Reform Judaism

My 140,000 Steps Through Israel

2009-07-10T04:27:15Z

by Sybil Schwartz
Anita Saltz Student, Jerusalem
Beth Emeth Synagogue, Wilmington, Delaware

I yearned for a Judaica journey of sustenance - one filled with opportunities for intellectual growth, spiritual awareness, and engagement in and with the land and people of Israel. One that I could afford. Two years earlier I had connected with one of the ongoing seminars at the The Anita Saltz International Center's progressive study center in Jerusalem that was created in conjunction with the Union of Reform Judaism's Department (URJ) of Adult Education. Upon returning home my appetite had been whet by the Rabbinical and academic scholars who skillfully integrated and wove together prayer, text and field study to nourish my Jewish soul.

Again this year I found myself craving Judaica immersion in the spiritual and historic land of our people. A "traditional tour" was not going to satisfy my appetite. In mid-May 2009 a diverse collection of fellow sojourners (who for the most part did not know each other) along with our teachers from Saltz and URJ began our journey of steps through Israel: engagement with text, prayer, tikkun olam, and the political historical and religious landscapes of Israel.

Each step of the journey was a unique learning experience.

For a portion of one day I was immersed in the diverse non-Jewish immigrant population of Tel Aviv, many of whom had escaped civil wars. We walked through their neighborhoods to learn that these refugees are being assisted by Israelis to navigate the country's bureaucracy toward securing a job and surviving. There was the Shabbat we studied Torah and then spent the remainder of the day on a walking expedition of Yaffo's bakeries, and learning the history of the city. One morning we peeled potatoes and served lunch at a Jersuleum food kitchen to understand the plight of the older poor Russian Jews who had not learned sufficient Hebrew to integrate into Israeli society. The citizens of Israel were sustaining these immigrants, not the government.

Our steps brought us to Jerusalem, the city saturated with prayers, parallels and polarities since time immemorial. Meandering through the alleyways of the city we heard the diverse sounds of a monotheistic people in prayer. On Shabbat morn we prayed and in the afternoon walked to a grassy knoll overlooking the walls of the old city to study the works of Shmuel Agnon, who focused on the conflict between traditional Jewish ways and modern life, and the spiritual turmoil that can develop when removed from the homeland and faith. On another day we trekked to the house of Ben Yehuda (responsible for the revival of Hebrew as the spoken language) whose home is sporadically defaced by a sect of Orthodox Jews who regard the work of this Zionist as secularizing the "holy" language.

Wherever we walked in Jerusalem, symbolism abounded at every intersection. The men's clothing styles, length of women's skirts, kippah colors and styles, pace of walking, and location and size of synagogues fostered an atmosphere of kinship among the similar groups and polarization from those whose beliefs and practices differ. We witnessed the polarizing effect of Jerusalem Day. Streams of individuals in attire generally associated with Orthodoxy were making their way to the old city. The portrait of this large solo vibrant band of young and old (the non-Orthodox did not seem involved) en route to the Kettel illustrated a sect's political views concerning Jerusalem.

After walking over 140,000 steps I returned home with a greater understanding that Israel's strength and endurance can not be sustained by troops alone, but requires a pluralistic Israeli and Diaspora Jewish society rooted in tradition, prayer, and tikkun olam. I came to appreciate that the future strength of the house of Israel will be in its capability to accommodate the diversity of its people under one roof with assorted synagogues and batei midrash. For progressive Jews to influence the destiny of our people in Israel this will mean that we need to be at the forefront of creating sacred spaces for prayer in our synagogues, engaging text in our batei midrash, and performing multiple acts of charity in the house of Israel.

Galilee Diary: Peace talk VII: A modest proposal

2009-07-07T17:23:31Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

And they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not take up sward against nation; they shall never again know war; but every man shall sit under his grapevine or fig tree with no one to disturb him. -Micah 4:3-4

I have tried over the years to avoid pontificating on large-scale national issues, but to keep this diary focused on the Galilee and my personal experiences there. However, sometimes it is hard to remain silent on the macro questions, and my experiences with Jewish-Arab relations here in the Galilee led me to the observations about "talking peace" in the last six entries. Which led me to the questionable step of wondering, "so, what is my vision, after all?" And even though I claim no authority in political science, international relations, etc., it seems a cop-out to keep speaking in generalizations and leaving the dirty work to others. So here is my peace proposal:

Israel is the Jewish homeland and center of Jewish culture. Hebrew is the first language, Arabic second, English third - in public schools and in official government publications.
Palestine is the Palestinian homeland and center of Palestinian culture. Arabic is the first language, Hebrew second, English third - in public schools and official government publications.
Each state is a secular democracy, with full individual rights, equality of protection under law, and equality of opportunity for every citizen regardless of race, religion, ethnic origin, or gender.
Jews are free to live in Palestine as Palestinian citizens - and Palestinians in Israel. Each minority will be guaranteed certain basic cultural rights such as the maintenance of their language community, religious institutions, unrestricted travel to their homeland.
Religious communities are free to enforce, internally, their particular restrictions regarding membership, marriage eligibility, supplementary education, private education, and other matters, but, outside of basic restrictions on incest, all individuals may marry their chosen partner under law, with or without sanction of a particular religious community.
Each state may develop an immigration policy in accordance with its needs and ideology.
All parties renounce the use of force in solving disputes; a mechanism for mediation of disputes at various levels between the two states, and between their citizens, shall be established. Both states sides accept the borders (1949 lines) of this agreement and renounce any other territorial claims.
A process of public reconciliation will be established, for creating a shared public historical record of events in the historic conflict between the two peoples.
Both states pledge to cleanse their educational systems of materials demeaning to the other, and to institute (via a joint educational planning commission) a nationwide curriculum aimed at furthering reconciliation and partnership.
While each state will be fully sovereign, certain commitments to cooperation will be institutionalized in this agreement:

Movement/transportation/communication between the West Bank and Gaza
A master plan for developing, preserving, and distributing the water resources of the whole region
Access to, control of, safeguarding of holy places
A master plan for environmental preservation

Jerusalem will be one city with a formal mechanism for shared sovereignty. Each state will be granted, within the city, a capital zone wherein its key government institutions will be located.
A joint commission, with international involvement, will develop a plan for resolution of the status of the Palestinian refugees by means of compensation and/or resettlement.
The above definitions will be enshrined in a constitution for each state.

Galilee Diary: Peace talk VI: Listening

2009-06-30T15:51:50Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

They combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, "You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord's congregation?" When Moses heard this, he fell on his face.
-Numbers 16:3-4

Last week, the local chapter of Sikkui, a moderate, non-militant non-profit organization that engages in programs of research and education to further equal rights in Israel (research reports, public lectures, seminars, etc.) held an evening panel discussion on the topic of "fear, racism, and inequality;" the focus was on discussing the reasons behind the efforts for and against residential segregation in the Galilee. The invited speakers represented a pretty wide range of views (similar to a program we offered a few months ago, about which I wrote here). And while the audience, characteristically, consisted mainly of people with more "leftist" sympathies, it was actually pretty heterogeneous, as the speakers were a draw (The moderator was Israel Prize Laureate Prof. Gabi Solomon). However, one part of the audience was a little surprising: a busload from the nearby city of Karmiel (pop. 50,000), led by a mayoral candidate from the last election, whose platform had been "keep the Arabs out of Karmiel." They seem to have come not to listen and discuss, but to heckle and disrupt and wave Israeli flags, until, largely ignored, they got bored and left.

While these visitors were not expected, their antics fit squarely into a central element of Israeli public discourse, one of the least attractive aspects of Israeli culture: The assumption that the appropriate way to deal with opinions I do not like is to silence them or outshout them; if no one can hear them, then they don't exist and we don't have to think about them or respond to them. I'm not sure where this approach came from - if it is Middle Eastern, or if our founding fathers brought it with them from Russia. In any case, it drives most of us Anglos crazy. And while the Knesset is perhaps the place where it can best be observed in its extreme form, it permeates all levels of discourse. Trying to conduct a civilized discussion of a controversial issue in a youth group or class room - or teacher in-service - is a constant and frustrating exercise in fighting this approach and trying to get people to listen to each other. Perhaps that is why there are so many academic and quasi-academic professional training programs here in "group facilitation," and why that is such a popular profession - we can't seem to have a group discussion without professional help! I first encountered this behavior shortly after we arrived at Shorashim, when the community began a "discussion" of the question of privatization of the collective economy. Hearing our new nice, educated, middle-class neighbors trying to out-scream each other (thereby, of course, not advancing a solution in any way) was daunting. In the end we hired an expensive facilitator and are all living happily together 20 years later.

Recently, we have seen this "silence the Other" approach carried to a worrying extreme, as there is legislation currently before the Knesset which would forbid anyone from holding any kind of public recognition of the "Nakba" - "the catastrophe" - which is how many Israeli Arabs refer to their defeat in the War of Independence. Presumably, if we never have to listen to the Arabs express their memories of loss and humiliation, those feelings will go away (or maybe the Arabs will get so frustrated that they'll just go away). Similarly, the Ultra-Orthodox act as if shutting down the Gay Pride Parade will either cause homosexuality to disappear - or will cause homosexuals to find another country.

Interesting that the best-known imperative in the Jewish tradition - "Listen, O Israel..." - is the one we have the hardest time doing.

Galilee Diary: Peace talk V - Living with the other

2009-06-23T17:08:52Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

When she saw that [Joseph] had left [his garment] in her hand and had fled outside, she called out to her servants and said to them, "Look, he had to bring us a Hebrew to dally with us! This one came to lie with me; but I screamed loud. And when he heard me screaming at the top of my voice, he left his garment with me and got away and fled outside."
-Genesis 39:13-15

In Jew Suess, the infamous Nazi propaganda feature film, a central plot element is the cruel sexual exploitation of the virgin Aryan Dorothea by the conniving Jew Suess.

When I was a teenager, the real estate developer and social activist Morris Milgram tried to build an explicitly integrated development in our area. My parents were supportive. Their friends' comment was "that's because you don't have daughters."

When I make the mistake of mentioning Arabs in any context in the course of a bet midrash with high school students in Karmiel, I hear a loud litany of complaints about how Arab boys come to Karmiel to stroll the mall and harass Jewish girls with looks and comments.

There is, it seems, something viscerally frightening about the Other, whoever he happens to be - a fear that begets visceral hatred and has, over the centuries, led to violence in varied settings. I will leave the explanations to the Freudians. What is important is that the image of the Arab as fundamentally different, as a threat to our culture and even to our personal safety, is, I think, an important factor in determining the way we live together (or don't). Surveys show that a clear majority of Israeli Jews would not agree to live in an apartment building together with Arabs. There is presently a case awaiting hearing in the Supreme Court, in which a middle class Arab family was rejected when it sought to build a home in a Jewish community here in the Galilee. The main platform plank of the opposition parties in the last Karmiel municipal election was "keep the Arabs out of Karmiel." They carried the city council. The Jews' objections are not based on our enmity with Arab states or on fears of violence or terrorism; it is pretty clear that they are based on less rational considerations.

I am sure that there are plenty of Israeli Arabs who have negative and threatening images of Jews in their heads. They, however, happen to be the minority, so they don't really have the opportunity to translate their fears into actions.

So what is to be done? It seems that there is no easy solution - especially in view of the issues expounded in the previous three Galilee Diary entries; all four factors are intertwined (defining a Jewish democracy; the conflicting historical narrative; the cultural divide; and simple fear/hatred of the Other). Where do we start? Forced residential integration? Integrated education? Voluntary shared cultural programs? Changing the curriculum of the schools (the separate schools)? Public propaganda? Agreeing on a constitution? Developing a new generation and a new style of leaders? Legal challenges to discrimination? Giving up and giving in to the voices of "transfer?" Either we can be paralyzed by the vicious cycle of challenges, each of which seems a precondition for solving the next - or we can each choose a place to stand and reach for whatever lever we can to move the world. The trends in Jewish and Arab society, as they surface in depressing survey results every few months, make it clear that just waiting for the problem to solve itself is not a viable option. And if we don't move towards solving it, what kind of a future can we envision here?

Galilee Diary: Peace talk III - Living with history

2009-06-09T17:18:57Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Ten Minutes of Torah and Galilee Diary)

Who is the mightiest of the mighty? ... Some say: he who is able to turn his enemy into a friend.

-Avot d'Rabbi Nathan version A chapter 23

One of the obstacles to the creation of a political future shared by Jews and Arabs in Israel, as discussed in the last entry, is perhaps the fact that we don't share an understanding of the past. And the fact that the story told by the Other casts doubt on the truth of the story we tell about ourselves consistently makes us so angry that we can't continue the conversation.

We know: We once lived in this land and ruled it as a sovereign kingdom, in which Judaism was the state religion and worship centered in the Temple in the capital city, Jerusalem. Refusing to acquiesce in foreign conquest, first by the Babylonians and later by the Romans, we rebelled; those rebellions were put down with violence, our sovereignty was lost, and most of the people were forced (by the conquerors or by conditions resulting from the conquest) to leave. For two millennia we lived as an often persecuted minority, remembering from generation to generation our "good old days" and longing for a return to the land and restoration of our sovereignty. Modernization did not improve our lot in Europe, and from the beginning of the 20 th century we began to try to return and reclaim our land and re-establish our state. The Holocaust made clear our vulnerability without a state. The world accepted our claim, and the United Nations voted to allow us to establish a state in a portion of our historical domain. The Arabs who had moved in in our absence rejected our claim and the UN decision, and did whatever they could to thwart our efforts, up to and including war. Thus, the only way we could in fact attain - and maintain - sovereignty was through force of arms.

The Arabs know: While the Jews may (or may not, depending on your acceptance of the Bible as history) have once had a sovereign state here, they left of their own accord, while we continued to live here, a life style and a culture rooted in the soil, generation after generation. The Jews who began to immigrate at the turn of the 20 th century did so in the context of European colonialism, believing it was their right to take over the lands of the non-European world for their own benefit. The Jews forced us off our land, having bought the land from absentee landowners. They introduced a foreign culture and made it clear that they wished to create a European-style state run by them. They claimed that the Holocaust somehow gave them the right to claim this land, but we were not responsible for their troubles in Europe and refused to see why they should be compensated at our expense. The world, dominated by Europeans, rejected our right of self determination in our ancestral land, leaving us no option except violence.

This zero sum game is self-perpetuating, for if either side grants any credit to the story of the other side, it gives up its status as helpless, persecuted victim and maybe even the moral justification of its claim to full ownership of the land. A variation on this game is for the Palestinians to insist that the Jews are a religion, not a nationality, thus having no claim to a state; to which the Jews respond that the Palestinians are not an authentic nationality but a 20th century invention, created as a tool against the Jewish state.

There can be no conversation (that is not just simultaneous screaming) until each side is prepared to step up and say, "I admit that to some extent, at least, I am responsible, I perhaps could and should have behaved differently, the situation is more complicated than the story I have kept telling." Of course, why should I say that until I hear the other side say it? Well, maybe that's the only way out. Or maybe that will just lead nowhere - which is, it seems, where we are already.

Saperstein Video Blogs About Obama's Cairo Speech

2009-06-08T14:25:47Z

by Kate Bigam
(Originally posted on the RACBlog)

After President Barack Obama addressed the Muslim community in a speech in Cairo, Egypt, Rabbi David Saperstein, director of the RAC, recorded a video response to the speech for Patheos.com, a newly launched religion website.

Check out Patheos' page on the Obama speech, where you can watch video responses from Rabbi Saperstein and from Eboo Patel, Director of the Interfaith Youth Core. Responses have also been posted from religious leaders across the country representing various faiths. Here's Rabbi Saperstein's take:

The Reform Movement also responded to the President's speech in an official statement. In it, Rabbi Saperstein says:

We are hopeful that today's speech, which was broad in its scope and ambition, will form a solid basis for U.S. Middle East policy. History has shown that U.S. leadership is critical to advancing the cause of peace. To that end, we look forward to working with President Obama, Prime Minister Netanyahu and others to realize a peaceful and secure future for Israel and her neighbors.

For more Jewish reactions to the Cairo speech, JTA has a nice round-up of organizations' responses. What did you think of the speech?

How Not To Protect the Jewish State

2009-06-04T18:51:37Z

by Rabbi Eric Yoffie
(Originally published in The Jewish Daily Forward and Ten Minutes of Torah)

During his recent visit to the United States, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu repeated his demand that Palestinian recognition of Israel as a Jewish state should be a precondition for talks aimed at achieving a peace settlement. While such a request might seem reasonable -- after all, Israel is a Jewish state -- it is actually a serious mistake.

First of all, what does the term "Jewish state" mean? Does it refer, for example, to a state governed completely or in part by Halacha, by traditional Jewish law? Does it refer to a particular set of linguistic, cultural and educational policies that the state will adopt? In my experience, if you put a half-dozen Jewish Israelis in a room and ask them what it means for Israel to be a Jewish state, you will receive four or five different answers, along with at least one indignant insistence that the phrase has no meaning whatsoever. Debates among American Jews on the topic are no less heated.

These ongoing debates about the meaning of a Jewish state are good for Israel, as are the serious and intense discussions taking place about the proper relationship of a Jewish state to its non-Jewish minority. These are highly charged issues that will not be resolved easily or soon. But making the debate a part of the diplomatic landscape is a decidedly bad idea.

Demanding that the Palestinians recognize Israel as a Jewish state could backfire from a public relations perspective. The United States is a multi-religious, multicultural democracy in which church-state separation is a sacred principle. The phrase "Jewish state," absent more precise definition and context, is likely to grate on American ears.

What's more, the term raises questions about the status of Muslim and Christian citizens in the State of Israel. Even though Israel's Declaration of Independence guarantees all citizens full political and civil rights, Israel's enemies might seize upon demands for recognition of Israel as a Jewish state to unfairly impugn its democratic bona fides.

Raising this matter now also has created suspicion in America that Israel is engaged in a rhetorical dodge meant to delay negotiations. (The same can be said of the current Israeli government's refusal to recognize the long-established principle of a two-state solution.) Such tactics have allowed others to depict Israel as the holdout and to shift attention away from Palestinian intransigence, which remains the major obstacle to Palestinian independence.

But there is a more profound reason why this demand is ultimately bad for Israel: It flies in the face of the very principles that animated the movement to create and sustain a Jewish state.

Zionism is about the Jewish people taking control of its destiny and determining for itself what kind of nation Israel should be. As a matter of principle and national honor, Israel has never ceded this right to Palestinian or other Arab leaders. Indeed, no previous Israeli government has demanded that its Arab neighbors affirm the Jewish character of the state. Israel has made peace with two Arab countries -- Egypt and Jordan -- without including such a demand in the terms of the agreements.

The task of Israel's government is not to gain "recognition" of its Jewish character from anyone, friend or foe. Its job is to guarantee a stable Jewish majority that will enable the Jewish state to continue to develop and evolve in a democratic fashion as well as to ensure Israel's Jewish character for the future.

On this front, Israel has much more important diplomatic battles to fight. For instance, the demand that Arab refugees be settled in Israel under the "right of return" would undermine Israel's Jewish majority. Israel should oppose such a right for even a single refugee as part of an agreement with the Palestinians.

Practical matters such as this should be the focus of Israel's diplomatic efforts. That is the best way of protecting Israel's future as a Jewish state.

Tuesday the Rabbi Was Not A Friar: When Sirens Sound Across Israel

2009-06-03T19:46:27Z

by Rabbi Rich Kirschen

This morning was one of those mornings I dread living in Israel because I had given in to my wife's demand that it was my turn to take the car to the garage and get it fixed. This is always the moment of truth when I know the essence of my manhood will be tested. A virtual auto motive Akedah (the binding of Isaac) if you will.... where I am forced to go up a mountain in Jerusalem (actually Talpiot where all the garages are) and hand myself over as an offering- if not an actual sacrifice to my auto mechanic - Amnon. I am not mechanical and never will be...hey, I'm from Woodmere, Long Island. And any time men get together to talk about power tools or automotive matters ...I try to switch the conversation to an interesting and sensitive midrash. Now when I was living in the States it was bad enough, but here with my fellow Jews speaking in the holy tongue of Hebrew ...it brings up my issues about actually living up to the Zionist dream.

Here in Israel is where we were supposed to be workers of the land, here we were going to take the Jew out of the exile and the exile out of the Jew. And here I am a supposed to be a Gever (the Hebrew word for a man's man). But as soon as I arrive at my mechanic, I never know what he is talking about and I just cannot help but flash that sign on my face that says "deer in the head lights" or in Israeli terms FRIAR! A FRIAR is the last thing that anyone wants to be in Israel, A FRIAR is somebody's sucker or in this case - paying way more than you actually should. The Israeli national pastime is to prove why everyone else is a FRIAR and that you are in fact no one's FRIAR. But when my mechanic Amnon told me that I needed a boxer to change my joont....my goose was cooked and it was clear that I had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently he was telling me that I needed a special wrench to take off the wheel of my car so it could be fixed. What language was this? Boxer.......Joont they didn't teach me these words when I studied at Hebrew Union College. And then I was sent all over the city to find his buddy "YiItzhak the Tire Guy" who really has the tools to fix it. And the whole time that I am racing around Jerusalem, I am determined that when I get to Yitzhak's I will come off as a Gever (a man's man) and more important not as a FRIAR (a sucker, a patsy, etc..)!

So I arrive at Yitzhak's Tire place all puffed up ready to present my automotive challenge when a siren goes off in Jerusalem (and around the country). And then I remembered that this was the morning that everyone has to go through a test run in case Iran decides to fire Inter Continental Ballistic missiles at us. I also made a mental note that we made sure to tell our kids (ages 15, 12 and 9) that there was going to be a drill today and not a real war. A few months ago during the War in Gaza, the siren in Jerusalem actually went off by mistake and my children went running in a panic down to the bomb shelter in their school. These experiences are not without their emotional and psychological impact. And so while I am racing all around Jerusalem intent on not being anyone's FRIAR, the Jewish State was simply trying to make sure- we won't FRY.

Rabbi Rich Kirschen is the director of the Anita Saltz International Education Center at the World Union for Progressive Judaism in Jerusalem. He can be reached at Rich@wupj.org.il

Galilee Diary: Peace talk II: Jewish and democratic

2009-06-02T19:30:35Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

...We, members of the people's council, representatives of the Jewish community of Eretz-Israel and of the Zionist movement..., hereby declare the establishment of a Jewish state in Eretz-Israel, to be known as the state of Israel.

-Israel Declaration of Independence

As I suggested in my last entry, in thinking about what it will take for Jews and Arabs to live together in peace in Israel, there are (at least) four different dimensions to consider: the political, the historical, the cultural, and the personal.

The most fundamental is the political - defining a shared life here requires us to agree upon a political structure that meets enough of the basic needs of each group to allow them to have an interest in sustaining that structure and not seeking to overthrow it. The United States is based on an approach in which the individual is the measure of all: each person has equal and inalienable rights, in a state that explicitly declines to make any differentiation between religious, racial, or ethnic categories of individuals - regardless of your religious belief, your color, where your grandparents were born, you are equal to all other citizens in your rights, obligations, and opportunities (of course, sometimes practice lags behind theory...). Lawmakers are elected by majority vote, and those lawmakers in turn make decisions by majority vote. It is understood, and formalized in the Constitution, that this majority rule does not give the majority the right to infringe on the basic freedoms of the individual; the fact that the majority are Christian doesn't give them the right to make laws that will infringe on the rights of non-Christians, even though they might very much want to. So while the US might be a Christian state in terms of the vast majority of its population, its Christian-ness cannot find significant expression in its laws. Most Jewish citizens of the US treasure this reality and understand how it revolutionized the life of the Jewish people after centuries of discrimination under law in European states.

Israel, in contrast, defines itself as the national homeland of the Jewish people, a Jewish state. The raison d'etre of the state is the restoration of the historic sovereignty of the Jewish people in its homeland. It is not based on the equal rights of every individual, but on the right of the Jewish people to self-determination. So for me, who grew up in and valued the US concept of individual freedom, living in a state in which that concept is not primary causes a certain discomfort. How can these two sets of values be reconciled?

Israel could be like the US, with total formal equality of individual rights, and the Jewishness of the state simply determined by the fact that the large majority of the population are Jewish and therefore are free to live out their Jewishness fully, yet without significantly infringing on the rights of others to fulfill themselves as individuals and preserve, privately, their religious and/or ethnic identity. That would require a constitution based on near-consensus, guaranteeing that it would be impossible for the majority to curtail the individual rights of the minority - and guaranteeing that the definition of the state as Jewish homeland would be similarly immutable.

Another, European, model, would see the state as comprising a dominant ethnic majority and a minority ethnic group recognized by law as having a degree of autonomy, at least in cultural areas like language and education. This model was not all that successful in 20 th century Europe, as there was always tension between group members' loyalty to their group and their loyalty to the state. Politics became a constant power struggle between the majority and minority groups, in which individual rights could be diminished, as majority rule was too often seen as the right of the majority group to do what they wanted, without consideration for the sensitivities of the minority - who were seen as, and saw themselves as "outsiders."

Israel has remained suspended somewhere between these two models for 61 years, leaving both the Jewish majority and the Arab minority living in a perpetual feeling of being threatened by the other. One of these days we're going to have to decide what we are.

Galilee Diary: Peace talk

2009-05-26T20:49:24Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

...Priest and prophet alike, they all act falsely, They offer healing offhand for the wounds of My people, Saying "Peace, peace," when there is no peace. -Jeremiah 6:13-14 (and 8:10-11)

Recently I was invited to speak at a conference on "Discovering and Accepting the Other," at Nes Ammim, a Christian community tucked among the avocado and banana orchards just south of Nahariya. Nes Ammim was founded in the 1960s by European Protestants who sought to support the State of Israel and the Jewish people, and to provide opportunities for Christians to live and study in Israel. Until a recent financial downturn, this peaceful little kibbutz raised flowers, produced furniture, and offered study programs for visiting Christians; today the population has declined, and the only continuing business is their kosher hotel, which serves Israelis and tourists. Their study center presents various public events in the course of the year, most notably a Kristallnacht commemoration that generally focuses on one of their main themes - the role of the bystander and the importance of taking responsibility.

This conference, attended by a miscellaneous assemblage of local Arabs, European visitors, and a few local Jews, was typical of other such gatherings I get invited to attend now and then at various venues. They tend to encourage somewhat predictable speeches/sermons on the importance of peace and good will and brotherhood - i.e., if only we could just treat each other as human beings, with human dignity, then we could break out of the cycle of violence. In preparing to speak, I really didn't want to fall into that pattern of platitudes for peace. Indeed, I have developed an aversion to such homilies, which are of course a regular part of public discourse around here: we talk a lot about wanting peace, praying for peace, loving peace, making peace. However, somehow when it comes to the bottom line, it is always some else's fault that peace remains a distant hope. It seems to me it would make more sense honestly to consider what we value more than peace - and what we even mean by peace. If the cost of peace is giving up certain other values we hold dear - identity, or political power, or beliefs, or economic benefits, or real estate - and we are unwilling to pay that price, then it seems a little disingenuous to go on and on about how much we long for peace.

With respect to the local situation in the Galilee between Jews and Arabs, since the riots of 2000 the phrase "peaceful coexistence" has become passé. It turned out that for Jews it meant quiet, while for the Arabs it meant redress of injustices (discrimination at various levels). And since we weren't talking about the same thing, we stopped using the words, at least in talking to each other.

So I said that before we can talk about Jews and Arabs living together in peace in Israel we have to talk about a few preconditions: a) finding a model of common loyalty, shared citizenship, defining how to apply the slogan of "democratic Jewish state" in everyday reality; b) reaching some kind of understanding of each other's "narrative" - finding a view of history that is not a zero-sum game (i.e., if I'm right you must be wrong and vice versa); c) becoming more knowledgeable and understanding of each other's cultures and the values and behaviors that are culturally determined; and d) overcoming the classic symptoms of fear, stereotyping, and hatred of the Other, whoever s/he may be. This is of course a huge challenge, and we could (and do) argue endlessly about where to start. The hard part, wherever we start, is taking responsibility for the status quo. We've been saying "he made me do it" since kindergarten; it didn't work then and it won't work now.

Galilee Diary: Standing guard

2009-05-19T18:58:14Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Asher did not dispossess the inhabitants of Acco or the inhabitants of Sidon, Ahlab, Achzib, Helbah, Aphik, and Rehob. So the Asherites dwelt in the midst of the Canaanites, the inhabitants of the land, for they did not dispossess them. -Judges 1:31-32

We have been running a series of two-day seminars for participants in pluralistic pre-army preparatory programs ("leadership academies") that have become popular in recent years (a year of intensive study and service between high school and the army). The seminar consists of a day exploring and studying Yodfat, where the Jews fought to the death in the first battle of the great revolt (67 CE), and a day in Zippori, where we signed a surrender agreement before the revolt started. The focus is on understanding the values implicit in these two responses. The two days involve hiking, meetings with archaeologists, text study in situ, simulations, an encounter with an actor representing a character from the period, etc. Seeking a cheap place for groups to camp near Zippori, we found our way to the hilltop outpost of Joel Zilberman, who was happy to give us a place in return for the kids' listening to his story and helping him with shifts of guard duty over night. And it is an interesting story, which I heard along with the kids in the first of our groups to visit, last week:

Joel, a twenty-something who recently finished his army service as an officer in a combat unit, grew up on Moshav Zippori, where his family are farmers, raising cattle on grazing lands they lease in the area. He attended a pre-army preparatory program before the army, and came out imbued with idealism and the desire to "make a difference" in Israeli society, to rebel against the materialistic mainstream. He became drawn into the ongoing struggle of his family and neighbors against rustlers and land-usurpers from the neighboring Arab villages. These local gangs have been a constant nuisance for years, and there was a feeling that the police were either uninterested or incompetent to deal with what had become a serious economic issue. Taking a cue from the history of the area - where the famous land-watchman Alexander Zeid stood against vandals and rustlers in the 20s and 30s - Joel set up a camp on a hilltop and began to let the marauders know that someone was watching, reporting license numbers, taking a stand. He is a charismatic speaker and blends together the rhetoric of old-time Zionism, Jewish philosophy, and social change; soon he had started a movement of volunteers who set up land-watch patrols like his in various hotspots around the country. The kids I was with were happy to sign up for their guard shifts; another group's counselors refused the invitation to stay there, feeling they were participating in a political manipulation.

Indeed, the journalists of the right have given Joel very good press: they see him as the embodiment of good old-fashioned Zionist pride, holding on to the Jewish land for Jewish people, as over against the decadent post-Zionists who seem afraid to take a stand against Arab aggression. Others see him as a vigilante wrapping himself in a patriotic flag. Or maybe he is just a citizen taking responsibility for his own property. It does seem to be true that the police are remarkably uninterested in crimes of property - or maybe they're just underfunded and understaffed; add to this an explicit policy of staying out of Arab villages, even to enforce traffic laws. Thus, it is possible to understand frustration, and a sense of injustice, on the part of the victims of this reality. Is this an Arab-Jewish conflict, or a failure of Israel to maintain the rule of law in a fair manner? Is this new movement vigilantism or an expression of a high ideal of self-sacrifice for justice? Standing there on his windswept hilltop, watching a magnificent sunset over the pastoral lower Galilee, it was hard not to be moved by Joel's commitment and ability to articulate it - but it was also, for me at least, impossible to ignore the whole complex of difficult questions raised by his words and actions.

Give Israel's Arab Citizens Full Equality

2009-05-19T16:58:01Z

by Rabbi Eric Yoffie
(Originally published in Reform Judaism magazine)
Menachem Begin must be turning over in his grave.

The late Prime Minister and long-time leader of Israel's right-wing parties was an enthusiastic champion of Israel's Arab citizens. He viewed equality for Arab Israelis as a matter of principle: now that a Jewish state had at long last been created, it had a special responsibility to confer the same rights enjoyed by Israel's Jewish citizens on her Arab minority. He also knew that ending discrimination against Arab Israelis was in the nation's self-interest. Absent fair treatment, her Arab citizens would be radicalized, threatening Israel's security.

Unfortunately, today, 26 years after Begin left office, Arab citizens receive fewer government resources than do Jewish Israelis and suffer discrimination in housing, employment, and education. To make matters worse, last March Avigdor Lieberman's Yisrael Beiteinu party became Israel's third largest party after running a hate-filled, demagogic campaign challenging the loyalty of Israel's Arab citizens.

To be sure, the other side is not blameless. Arab Knesset members delight in provoking the Jewish majority. At times their provocations exceed all limits of decency, including expressing support for Israel's enemies in times of war--which drives many of Israel's Jewish voters into Lieberman's arms. Israel's mainstream parties have too often acquiesced in this process by remaining silent.

It is best not to exaggerate the importance of Lieberman's anti-Arab campaign. He received only 12-13% of the vote. At the same time, neither should he be ignored. The complex problem of majority-minority relations in Israel will not be resolved by simplistic and incendiary solutions that are both immoral and undemocratic, which is what Yisrael Beiteinu offers.

A sensible response would mean a different approach. It would mean extending a hand to Israel's Arab citizens by addressing their economic distress and appointing an Arab Israeli to serve in Israel's cabinet. And it would mean calling on all Israeli citizens, including Arabs and ultra-Orthodox Jews, to take on full responsibilities of citizenship, including mandatory national service. (Polls show that 74% of Arab Israelis support such service.)

Israel is a proud democracy in an authoritarian neighborhood where rogue states abound. It is time to realize the full potential of her democratic ideals by assuring full equality for her Arab citizens.

Galilee Diary: Green thoughts V: spring report

2009-05-13T14:30:47Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

For now the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The blossoms have appeared in the land, the time of pruning has come; The song of the turtledove is heard in our land. The green figs form on the fig tree, the vines in blossom give off fragrance... -Song of Songs 2:12-13

It may be complicated, but it works: the Jewish solar-lunar calendar once again has put Pesach right where it belongs, and when we chanted Song of Songs on the Shabbat during Pesach, the text and the landscape were in sync. Here is a field report from the Western Galilee:

The winter wildflower cycle has just about run its course - first the crocuses, then the cyclamen, then the bright red anemones and their red look-alikes, ranunculus and poppies, the masses of little purple ricotia - it's still mostly cool and we're not done with the rain yet (hopefully), but their season is over by now. Around here the main color on the mountainsides now is provided by the stalks of pink sage flowers, and the bright yellow of wild mustard and of the thorny calycotome. Once the weather finally warms up, the hollyhocks will bloom, marking the end of the flower season (except for the capers).

So indeed, the blossoms have appeared in the land, and we have spent a few refreshing and exhausting days in the garden pruning and weed-whacking, piling the compost high and dragging away load after load of branches - rose, hibiscus, citrus, rubber tree, pistachio... The pungent smell of marjoram and sage, mixed with the sweet citrus fragrance, is pretty strong stuff. Now that the clock has shifted to daylight savings, I get up before the birds, and enjoy their music. I don't know if the cooing ones are indeed turtledoves, or just pigeons... And yes, there are little green figs on the fig tree, but no, our grapevine is still stuck in its winter dormancy - no blossoms, no leaves yet.

Meawhile, in the market the citrus, bananas, and avocadoes are receding, to be replaced by a tsunami of strawberries, available at every highway intersection. For us, besides the traditional symbols of Pesach, there are seasonal tastes that have become inextricably associated with the holiday - strawberries are one; artichokes are another - they too are plentiful and cheap at this season, not a delicacy but a proletarian vegetable. And the third is fresh garlic, which we buy by the bunch and hang by its long leaves to dry (and stink) in the laundry room - it will last us half a year or so. This is an in-between season for fruit - strawberries definitely dominate, as it is still a little too early for the early summer fruits of shesek (loquats) followed by apricots; the two of them each have brief successive seasons, holding us over until they give way to the peaches, nectarines, plums, grapes, and sabras of summer.

Of course, cities are cities everywhere - Tel Aviv children might get the impression that fruit, like meat, grows in plastic boxes. And between globalization and hothouse technology, sometimes the seasonal distinctions can get blurred. However, because Israel is both small (not containing a wide range of climate zones) and relatively isolated, you can generally tell from a quick walk through the market just what season we are in. You are never more than about a twenty minute drive from real live agriculture - and if you live in Tel Aviv, the farthest distance that apple or tomato can possibly have traveled is only about 120 miles.

The Jewish calendar is based on the agriculture of the Land of Israel; it encodes the experience of nature here into a virtual reality of liturgy and images. But once you get here and experience the real thing, you realize that "the next best thing to being there" is indeed only next best.

Galilee Diary: Independence

2009-05-05T20:11:58Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Our hope is not lost, the hope of two thousand years To be a free people in our land, the land of Zion and Jerusalem. -Hatikvah, Israeli national anthem

This year's observance of Yom Ha'atzma'ut was particularly interesting and thought-provoking for me; here are some hightlights:

At mid-day on Tuesday, Memorial Day, almost the entire population of Shorashim, a few hundred people, set forth in a bus and a caravan of cars toward the Bet Shean valley. Every year we do an educational excursion on the afternoon of Memorial Day, to a historical site connected with the creation of the state. This year, we explored the area settled by Orthodox kibbutzim in the late 30s and early 40s. A highlight of the afternoon was a meeting with Jonathan Bassi, whose parents were among the founders of one of these kibbutzim. Bassi, who was a baby in 1948, recently got interested in researching a pivotal battle from 1948 that helped set the borders in the area, in which several of his parents' close friends and comrades were killed. He discovered a fascinating history of silence, regret, and guilt - that generation didn't discuss their feelings, and when he probed, fifty years later, it all came out - the one who was passed over in making up that morning's patrol because he was needed on the farm, the one who still feels guilty that he didn't clean the machine gun - and it jammed in battle, the young widow who only knew her husband had been killed when he didn't come back with all the others (no one would tell her)... etc. It was interesting to contrast that almost pathological restraint with our present invasive media culture, which would not have let any intimate detail escape the public spotlight. We complain about that sensationalistic, prying scrutiny - but it does have its advantages.

Bassi didn't talk about himself. A recognized and respected community leader, he was appointed in 2005 to supervise the resettlement of the settlers evacuated from Gaza. He became a lightning rod for the strident public controversy over that evacuation, and ultimately was hounded out of his kibbutz by a vocal minority. But we all knew his story (from the media), as we listened to him speak so eloquently about the battles of sixty years ago, and their meaning for him.

We went on to a nearby park, where at sundown we held a brief ceremony - including the sounding of the shofar - to mark the transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day, and a picnic and campfire. Baked potatoes in the fire for the native Israelis; toasted marshmallows for the immigrants.

The next day, Independence Day, we set out to brave the crowds at the Air Force training base near Haifa, where the Galilee Jewish-Arab Youth Circus had been invited to perform at the traditional Independence Day open house (held at many army bases, all over the country). We had wondered how the parents of the Arab kids would feel about this invitation. There was no hesitation; they were proud and supportive. We had actually been a bit surprised at the invitation, and indeed a few days before, a clueless army bureaucrat tried to cancel it, as it was "not possible for Arabs to visit the base;" but ultimately he got it - that these are citizens - and relented. So there they were, Jews and Arabs, in the shade of a Patriot anti-missile missile launcher, launching balls, rings, and each other into the air, to the enthusiastic applause of hundreds of who had come out to show their children Israel's military might and eat ice cream.

Hopefully some of them got the message - that it takes different types of might to survive as a state, and that the courage to let the Other stand on your shoulders may be at least as important as the courage to fly an F-16.

Galilee Diary: Spring festival

2009-04-28T20:15:01Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

As she kept on praying before the Lord, Eli watched her mouth. Now Hannah was praying in her heart, only her lips moved, but her voice could not be heard. So Eli thought she was drunk. -Samuel 1:12-13

Schools are closed during Pesach, and many businesses and offices are closed for part of the week. This creates a great opportunity for family vacations - or, alternatively, a strong need for activities to entertain the children. Thus, traffic on the roads is a constant nightmare, 24 hours a day. There seems to be no major intersection that is not backed up in all directions. Part of the cause of all that traffic is a plethora of festivals - it seems that there are more every year. Sculpture, storytelling, music, juggling, beach, dance, wine, theater - you name it, there is some locality somewhere in the country holding a festival for it during Pesach. These are generally the result of a combination of local boosterism, somebody's artistic vision, and capitalism. In particular, localities in the periphery seek to capitalize on the presence of thousands of vacationers from the center of the country, luring them to buy food and drink and stuff by means of cultural events and family entertainments.

Indeed, for years, our county held a "music and nature" festival including concerts in natural settings as well as big-name performers in more traditional venues; all the local businesses geared up to sell everything from kosher meals to healing to arts and crafts. After a while, it became clear that the cost of bringing in famous performers, and the inconvenience to the locals, exceeded the benefit both culturally and financially, and the tradition was terminated.

A fairly recent addition to the festival circuit is the International Festival of Pantomime, held in the Arab town of Shfar-am. This one is a bit "purer," as it seems to be driven primarily by an artistic vision, and, for better or for worse, includes only performances - no food sales, no street fair, not even T-shirts for sale. It was established six years ago as a memorial to an actor from Shfar-am who died of a heart attack at a young age, and attracts leading mimes from around the world.

One of the above mentioned traffic jams made the 25 minute drive from Shorashim to Shfar-am into 45 minutes, and we got lost in the town (of course), but still made it before the show started. Shfar-am is a sprawling town of about 35,000 residents, around 60% Moslem, 26% Christian, and 14% Druze. The hall was pretty full - probably about 200 people. From various clues of dress and headgear, it seemed that the crowd was mostly local, with all three religions represented, as well as a smattering of Jews, and festival performers from abroad. The performance this particular evening was by a Polish mime troupe, and while their skills were impressive, we found the overall plot a bit surrealistic and hard to follow. So there we were, Jews and Arabs, being entertained by Poles. The show was short, and people did not rush to leave; while we were sitting there wondering if this was intermission, a man approached us (who turned out to be the festival director) and asked where we were from; when he found out we were from nearby, he offered us free tickets to the finale the next evening. We took him up on his offer, and enjoyed a full evening of classic mime/clowning by some truly amazing artists.

Of course, the price of those free tickets was having to listen to the closing speeches of the festival, mostly in Arabic, which, despite how welcoming everyone was (numerous "thank you for coming's" as we entered and left both nights), made us feel like outsiders in the hall, surrounded by people speaking a foreign language. However, like circus, pantomime is a truly universal language: when the lights went down we were all equals, puzzling together over the weird scenes, laughing out loud together with no reservation. Such moments of cultural sharing are rare around here, but they do occur and it's worth enduring a traffic jam to have the opportunity to experience one.

Galilee Diary: Spring countdown

2009-04-21T18:39:45Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

And from the day on which you bring the omer offering - the day after the sabbath - you shall count off seven weeks. They must be complete: you must count until the day after the seventh week - fifty days; then you shall bring an offering of new grain to the Lord. -Leviticus 23:15-16

As principal of a Jewish school in the US, I always felt that once we hit Tu Beshvat, the year is over - there is no time or energy left to do anything except cope with the succession of holidays, get ready for the end of the year, and work on the plans, hiring, etc. for next year. Any kind of continuity, of concentration, of orderly instruction is pretty much shattered by one special day after another, with their associated preparations. And if that is true in the microcosm of the Jewish school in the Diaspora, imagine what goes on in the Jewish state!

Purim, for example, eats up a full week - first there's getting ready, and then the school party has to be two days before Purim, for there is no school on Purim, and the day before Purim is the Fast of Esther, when it's considered inappropriate to party; and then the day after is Shushan Purim, another day off. Similarly, Pesach vacation starts a week before Pesach, which means that school sedarim and other festivities have to be held before the dismissal, cutting into the little time after Purim that was not already devoted to preparing for Pesach. For Pesach (and the weeks before) especially, not only schools, but the whole country goes into a kind of shutdown mode - normal obligations are set aside for cleaning, shopping, and travel. Whatever prophet said "dust is not chametz" has no following in the holy land; for example, the county street-sweeper makes its annual visit to our parking lot the week before Pesach.

But that's only the warm-up. Traditionally, the period from the second day of Pesach until Shavuot, the "counting of the Omer," was treated as a period of mourning. No one knows why - the Talmud refers to a plague that killed thousands during the Roman period - some see in that a cryptic reference to events of the disastrous Bar Kochba revolt. Others suggest that the period during which the wheat is ripening is fraught with danger - one poorly timed hailstorm can destroy a year's food supply; hence, we superstitiously avoid acting too happy until the harvest is in. If anything, the seven weeks of counting should be a calm and productive time. But whether by plan or by coincidence, we've inserted modern historical commemorations into this period, leaving no week untouched. The week after Pesach there's Yom Hashoah; the week after that there's Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'atzma'ut - and since the latter comes this year on a Wednesday, and many people are off on Fridays anyway, that Thursday will be taken as a vacation day by thousands. Then a normal week, followed by the week in which Lag B'omer falls. Not really a holiday, with unknown origins, this 33rd day of the counting of the Omer, on which traditionally the mourning customs of the period are temporarily lifted, is thus a day of many weddings, and has become a kind of children's fire festival - bonfires, often huge, are de rigueur that night and woe to any construction site without a security guard. A year's worth of carbon credits up in smoke. The following week is Jerusalem Day - and the week after that Shavuot. By then of course we're approaching June, so schools are heavily into exams, rehearsals for graduation performances, etc.

There's something wonderful about this intense rush of religious and historical symbols, a period in which the various dimensions of Jewish identity saturate the public space - and consciousness - with symbols and songs and tastes and smells. Unless, of course, you're trying to get something done.

Galilee Diary: By the Sea

2009-04-14T14:02:23Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

The ocean sounds, O Lord, the ocean sounds its thunder, the ocean sounds its pounding. Above the thunder of the mighty waters, more majestic than the breakers of the sea is the Lord, majestic, on high.
-Psalm 93:3-4

Many Israelis spend Pesach in Sinai (despite both the irony of returning to Egypt for Pesach, and the government warnings of terror attacks). That's always seemed a bit extreme to us, but this year we did repeat an adventure of several years ago, transporting our seder to a beachfront kibbutz guest house south of Haifa. Not Sinai and not the Red Sea, but plenty of sand and sea nevertheless. With two other families we prepared and brought with us all the symbols and the foods, and organized the seder in one of our rooms (after a bit of furniture-moving). The circumstances forced us to keep food and utensils simple, releasing us all from some of the "bondage" of Pesach preparation. Since no one had to leave for home afterwards, we could drink wine and sing as late as we wanted. And we could take long walks along the beach, by sunlight and by moonlight, a setting conducive to thoughts about freedom.

We were just a few minutes' walk along a broad sandy beach from Tel Dor, a massive excavation of an important port city that was built and occupied over and over again by every people that ruled the coastline, from the Canaanites through the Phoenicians and Romans to the modern Zionists. A little farther south is the Roman port of Caesaria, whose excavations have been turned into a popular tourist site. Dor remains partly excavated and totally undeveloped. The waves crash over a jumble of natural rock formations and man-made structures from different periods, and you can wander and climb freely - you can even swim (illegally) in the pools created by the waves among the ruins. On a spring day, when the paths are lined with wildflowers, the sky is clear blue and the water turquoise, and salt spray is on the breeze, it's hard to think about the responsibilities waiting after the holiday.

Dor, like Gaza and Yafo, Caesaria and Acco, represents the link between the Land of Israel and the West - Greeks, Romans, Crusaders, Napoleon, the British, the Zionist settlers, all used these ports. We take for granted the importance of the desert in the history and culture and religion of the land; the Torah is pretty much a desert book. Our desert is the bridge between Asia and Africa. But it's important to remember the significance of the coastline as well - for it represents the bridge to Europe. Perhaps what has most made this country so important, throughout the ages, is its unique location, linking North Africa, Europe, and the Arabian desert and beyond (it is believed that Marco Polo passed through Acco on the way to China). We've been dealing with globalization here since before the globe was invented, for better or for worse. Mediterranean, African and Asian flora and fauna meet here - as do diverse cultures and religions. These encounters have at times been traumatic, but they have also been productive. Our challenge today is to shift the balance from trauma to creativity.

Since most travel to Israel today is by air, it is easy to overlook the importance of the sea link. When our children were young we decided it was important to experience the geography of Israel's location, and so we flew from Chicago to Greece and continued on to Israel by ship. And indeed, seeing Mt. Carmel materialize in the distance, and then experiencing the entry into the harbor and arrival on dry land - the sense of place - and of history - was very powerful.

The sea is of course not just a path to the West; it is also a powerful force of nature and cultural symbol in its own right, with its power and its mystery, its beauty and its cruelty. In this context it is interesting to note that the vast majority of the population of Israel lives less than 45 minutes' drive from the shore. We are at least as much of the sea as we are of the desert.

T'fillin - The perspective of a Conservative convert, Reform Jew

2009-04-13T15:38:57Z

by Jacob V. Aftel
Ohef Sholom Temple of Norfok, VA

Well, there it is - mentioned four times in the Torah; Exodus 13:1-10, Exodus 13:11-16, Deuteronomy 6:4-9 and Deuteronomy 11:13-21 where we are commanded that "you shall bind them for a sign upon your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes." Them and they of course refer to the words of G_d. The specific words are the story of the exodus and the mitzvot. Of the 613 mitzvot, the act of laying t'fillin is considered by its adherents to be a serious one to ignore.

Beyond the commandment to do so, the Torah does not describe the t'fillin nor does the Torah instruct how the t'fillin should be put on and worn. Oral tradition is mostly responsible for the handmade, relatively expensive adornment used as an adjunct to daily prayer. The interpretation of the directive in the Torah is how we ended up with t'fillin.

Among Jewish groups the Sadducees and Medieval Karaites, the commandment was considered to be metaphorical, a reminder from G_d for us to keep his word foremost in our thoughts and deeds. The Pharisees considered the commandment to be instruction to literally wrap t'fillin (totafot) on the arm and the head. Thus the actual construction of the phylacteries is tradition bound and has developed over the centuries with a strict list of criteria resulting in Kosher t'fillin.

When my father-in-law was alive I attended Shakarit services at Beth El and there was something communal about arriving and putting on t'fillin. There was small talk with a pause for the brachot upon wrapping the arm piece and the head piece and then one was girded for prayer. Then there was the point in the service when everyone began removing in reverse order to the tune of Aleinu. The ritual of t'fillin was an integral part of the service, so much so that there were loaners for the forgetful and newcomers.

I used to notice how folks were regarded when they would come to services after a long absence or for the first time. There was congenial insistence that they remember to put on t'fillin. Some politely refused the offer or ignored the offer in favor of the meat of the service, prayer. To my memory no-one was judged or looked down upon because they didn't put on t'fillin. But there were the knowing looks exchanged among the regulars that said, "he isn't one of us."

Now, I told you that story to tell you this one. I read 2 English language Jewish newspapers with regularity; Haaretz and Jpost.com. Advice from friends that have lived in Israel leads me to take the "news" with a grain of salt. I enjoy the opinion pieces and the postings readers provide at the end of the stories. I am troubled by one aspect of Jewish life in Israel as it is presented in these papers. It is the assertion that the Orthodox makes the rules with an apparent rubber stamp from the government.

There was the op-ed piece that suggested it would be appropriate to stone Jews being caught eating traif during Passover. Also reported is a recent trend to declare a convert not Jewish because the Kosher-police observed them not living up to their obligation to lead life according to halakhah. So it would appear that converts living in Israel should keep on their toes and not just worry about his or her obligation to G_d but also bear in mind that they are being watched and judged on their daily activities, sometimes with grave consequences.

This brings in the whole debate about whether Israel is a democracy bound by secular laws, a democracy which yields to halakhah at the discretion of rabbinic courts or a theocracy. Israel, depending on the time of day and reporting agency appears at times to be all three. And since Judaism has different streams (Orthodox, Conservative, Reform and Reconstructionism), it begs the question as to which stream every head must bow and every knee must bend. From an outsiders view point (one who does not live in Israel) all indication is that the Orthodox, Haredi, has the greatest influence for policy making adjudication. Further it makes it more complicated as to whether there is more or equal emphasis placed on Torah (d'oraita) laws, rabbinic (d'rabbanan) laws, or long-standing customs (minhag). Israeli government is complicated enough without having to consider how the above fold into the equation.

Now, I told you those stories to tell you this one. I am a convert, a conservative convert. I went to the mikvah and had a ritual circumcision. I even had a bar mitzvah. My wife is interested in converting and it will be a reform conversion which will include the mikvah trip. We are both in love with the idea of making aliyah and living in Israel. I have done some research and the websites of information don't scare me. I am a professional and could most likely find a job.

But I don't wear my t'fillin out where people can see it anymore. And being reform, a lot of my observance is what I am convinced is necessary to connect with G_d. It appears that is not good enough to be a Jewish citizen in Israel. It has become obvious to me that it is not enough for Israel to exist as a country in the Middle-East. It must exist as a Jewish controlled (read Orthodox) state that tolerates others within its borders as long as they don't mind diminished status as citizens.

I am secure in my Jewishness and being an American Jew has allowed me the fantasy to believe that I am as Jewish as the next Jew. So it is with some disappointment that it appears I will have to settle for trips to Israel as a secular tourist and remember that I am a Jew in America.

Galilee Diary - Green thoughts IV: Ponzi and Heschel

2009-04-07T15:08:54Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

The solution of mankind's most vexing problem will not be found in renouncing technical civilization, but in attaining some degree of independence of it. In regard to external gifts, to outward possessions, there is only one proper attitude - to have them and to be able to do without them. On the Sabbath we live, as it were, independent of technical civilization: we abstain primarily from any activity that aims at remaking or reshaping the things of space. Man's royal privilege to conquer nature is suspended on the seventh day.
- Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath (1951)

American immigrants here always used to joke about how the new developments and cultural fads of Europe and North America generally took a decade or two to find their way into our mainstream. Often we had the sense of living in a state of delayed development. We were still carrying reusable baskets and even refillable bottles to the market when America had long changed to disposables; we were still mostly riding the buses when everyone in America had a car. Now, however, the time lag has shrunk considerably, probably to zero. Indeed, I think we were even ahead of America in the use of ATMs and later, of cell phones. So now, the world-wide fad in environmentalism has arrived here pretty much simultaneously with its flowering elsewhere. We too now recycle plastic bottles (though only the 1.5 liter ones); we too now use cloth bags instead of plastic at the supermarket; the elites are even buying hybrid cars and installing solar panels.

I wonder, however, if these admirable actions are not merely band-aids on a cancer. As I suspect is the case elsewhere, it is not clear that these visible fads are associated with a deeper understanding of the fundamental problem. We may put our stuff in cloth bags, but are we buying less stuff? We may be building greener homes, but are we building fewer and smaller homes? We may be using more fuel-efficient cars, but are we driving less? My sense is that these measures, which are certainly good and useful, do not address the deeper cultural phenomenon of consumerism, of the assumption that the goal is to make, have, build, and buy more, that growth is necessary. But if in fact resources of space, and energy, and water, are ultimately limited, then, sooner or later the system has to fail. A few months ago only business historians knew what a Ponzi scheme was. Now the whole world knows. And as a number of commentators have pointed out, the category seems applicable to the entire consumerist system - we keep distributing dividends to ourselves by taking more from the next wave of investors, who in this case happen to be our children; when the oil/water/open space run out, we won't be around to suffer the consequences.

For decades, many of us - and not only the Orthodox - thought that there was something right and appropriate that Shabbat in Israel was an official day of rest, when businesses were closed. That seemed part of what a Jewish state was all about. Of course it led to hardships and inequities and made life difficult for many people, and one could always argue about how rigidly it should be enforced - and about who should have the authority to decide just what should be allowed. Ultimately, over the years, the claim of individual rights has trumped that romantic notion of a Jewish state, and the capitalists and secularists have "won" over the clericalist bureaucrats - many malls are open on Shabbat, and are packed with shoppers, for shopping is, after all, a form of family recreation (at least here we don' t yet see child-size shopping carts with the sign "consumer in training"). So we have a victory for individual freedom - and a sad failure by Israel to demonstrate the power of our tradition to stand against the tide of consumerism, a missed opportunity to find a way to integrate the powerful universal message of Shabbat (as articulated so well by Heschel) into the culture of the Jewish state.

Galilee Diary: Leaving the desert behind

2009-03-31T16:07:15Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Encamped at Gilgal, in the steppes of Jericho, the Israelites offered the Passover sacrifice on the fourteenth day of the month, toward evening. On the day after the Passover offering, on that very day, they ate of the produce of the country, unleavened bread and parched grain. On the same day, when they ate of the produce of the land, the manna ceased. The Israelites got no more manna; that year they ate of the yield of the land of Canaan. -Joshua 5:10-12

We learn in chapter 5 of Joshua that while the generation of the Exodus had been circumcised in Egypt, their children and grandchildren born in the desert had not been. And since only the circumcised may eat of the Passover sacrifice, it seems that this ritual too was not maintained during the forty years in the desert. Anyway, we couldn't have eaten matzah in the desert as we had no grain - only manna. Thus, the first Passover in the land of Israel was rather a significant event, a new experience for the people.

And when you enter the land that the Lord will give you, as He has promised, you shall observe this rite. And when your children ask you, "What do you mean by this rite?" You shall say, "It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord, because He passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt when He smote the Egyptians, but saved our houses." -Exodus 12:25-27

It is interesting to try to imagine the questions that were asked at that first seder in the land...

On all the other nights of all the years of our lives we ate manna, which had the quality of tasting like whatever we wanted it to taste like (e.g., lobster); why tonight do we eat only this dry matzah?
On all other nights we ate food that fell from heaven - all we had to do was gather it; why tonight do we only eat bread that is the product of our labors of cultivation and preparation?
On all other nights we sat on our suitcases; why tonight have we unpacked?
On all other nights we drank water from Miriam's miraculous portable well; how on this night will we stay awake if all we have to drink is the wine of the grapes of the Land of Israel?
On all other nights we were surrounded and protected by the endless desert; why tonight do we sit with our doors open to listen for any suspicious activity by our new neighbors?
On all other nights we were all equal, sustained by God's providence; why tonight are there poor among us for whom we must we take responsibility?
On all other nights we knew we could rely on Moses to lead us; why tonight is our dinner-table conversation about the crisis of leadership?
On all other nights we looked out of our tents at an endless and unknown wilderness; why tonight does every hill and valley, every rock and tree suddenly have a name and a meaning for us?
On all other nights, when we felt that we belonged someplace - it was Egypt; why tonight do we feel we belong here?
On all other nights we could ask our parents about their memories of slavery and redemption; how on this night shall we answer our children's questions?
On all other nights we worried about getting to the Land of Israel; why tonight do we worry about being allowed to stay here?
On all other nights, we studied the Torah as a theoretical exercise, relevant to some distant future; why tonight does the transition from theory to practice seem so overwhelming?
On all other nights, it was the older generation who were responsible for our predicament; why on this night are we suddenly responsible for ourselves?
On all other nights, we dreamed of coming into our own land, that had been promised to us; of what shall we dream tonight?

Galilee Diary: Green thoughts III: humility

2009-03-24T18:39:01Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

We will dress you in a dress of cement and mortar;
We will spread for you carpets of gardens;
On the soil of your redeemed fields
The grain will sing out like bells.

Through the desert we will carve a road;
The swamps - we'll dry them all up.
What more we can give you, we will,
What haven't we given that we still can give?
-Nathan Alterman, from "Morning Song" 1934

Originally written for a Keren Hayesod (European UJA) fundraising film, this song by perhaps the most popular and prolific Israeli poet and songwriter of the pre-state and early state period was sung by generations of school children until it fell out of favor in recent years. The song's disappearance from popular culture is a striking indicator of the change in consciousness that has occurred and is occurring regarding our relationship to the land of Israel. For decades we lived on the myth that Israel had once, long ago, been a fruitful, green land - in the years when we were sovereign here and cultivated and cared for the soil. But then, when we left, the land fell into disrepair and was abused - armies cut down the trees, goats ate the new growth, silt plugged up the streams - leaving the dismal and pathetic combination of swamp and desert that the Zionist pioneers found when they returned.

Our mission therefore was restoration, development, showing our love for the land by redeeming it from its misery. We set out to drain the swamps, to green the desert, to build passable roads, to replace the miserable hovels and stagnant villages of the Arabs with modern, orderly, healthy, towns and cities. Out of a backwater of the Ottoman empire we envisioned creating a European utopia. Of course, this vision implied that the status quo was unnatural, that what we were doing was rehabilitation, restoring the land to its original healthy state.

Reality, as is so often the case, turned out to be a bit more complicated than myth. As the twentieth century went by, we discovered that demonstrating our love for the land by dressing it in cement wasn't so romantic after all; especially when we had to carve up the mountains to quarry the limestone to make all that cement - leaving that carpet of gardens under a pall of haze and smog from the quarries and kilns. And the classic case study in misguided enthusiasm for reclamation was the draining of the Hula swamp in the 1950s, perceived for years as the pinnacle of the Zionist effort to renew the homeland... Until we found out that the swamp had served important ecological functions - not only as a habitat, but as a filtration system for the water entering the Kinneret, and as a stabilizer for the soil in the entire valley. Dust storms, fires, soil collapse, mouse infestations - our great achievement brought us a series of plagues until, in the 1990s we re-flooded sections of the valley (creating what is now a popular and beautiful nature reserve).

The Hula story is a cautionary tale about humility in our relationship with the land - about the temptation to think we know more than we do. The green movement has had some impact on popular culture, but we still have not gotten over our need to show our love for - or our possession of - the land by bulldozing and paving it.

When you rent for years and then move into your own home, you feel this sudden liberation - you can drive nails into the wall, paint the woodwork any crazy color you want - the house is really yours to do with as you will. Zionism was like that. But now that we've asserted our freedom of ownership, we need to sober up and consider how to keep the house solid and livable for our grandchildren.

Avigdor Lieberman and My Jaffa

2009-03-24T17:32:28Z

By Rachel Reynolds
(First posted on the RACblog)
Rachel Reynolds is a graduate of Sweet Briar college and an intern at the RAC. All views expressed are her own.

Though rumors are still swirling that Bibi Netanyahu has yet to give up on a national unity government with either Labor or Kadima, this last week appears to herald the formation of a government that unites Likud with Yisrael Beitanu. This coalition will elevate Avigdor Lieberman to a position of power frightening to those of us who support the rights of Israeli Arabs.

When I lived in Tel Aviv, I resided in two worlds. The first was that of Tel Aviv. The locus of this world was my Jewish, Kiryat Shalom universe: the neighborhood pizza stand, the kids who attended the secular elementary school where I taught, and the dirty sidewalks on the main road, Kibbutz Galyot, that we had to cross to get to the bus station or our yeshiva.

It was the van that drove past our apartment with speakers blaring, "beytzim, beytzim!" (eggs, eggs!), and the kids volunteering in the Labor Zionist Youth movement with their blue shirts and Chuck Taylors. When I left Kiryat Shalom, my Tel Aviv was Shuk Hatikvah's copious supply of fresh, cheap produce, fish, and enormous sacks filled with spices. It was our Yeshiva, where we learned to better understand Jewish texts and philosophy alongside Israelis committed to establishing a progressive, religious voice in Israel. It was the small soldier's bar on Lillenblum where we went nearly every week to drink with the bartenders-cum-fireblowers (apt, for a bar named "Flame"), and where we learned to love Israeli pop music, and where I befriended an IDF officer who put a face on the news stories we read about the West Bank.

My second world was Jaffa, contained for me between the confines of Sderot Yerushalayim and the sea. The heart of my Jaffa was the Toulouse Garden across from the matnas, or community center, where I worked. My students played there and fought there. They gathered there with their parents for the annual Land Day protest that I too attended, sympathetic to their complaints over the ethnic gentrification in Jaffa that threatens to erase the Arab culture and life that has defined the city for thousands of years. My Jaffa is the beach just north of the clock tower, where I sat every Saturday at dusk to watch the Shabbat queen drift away into the horizon. My Jaffa was fresh mint tobacco in the shop on Yeffet St, and warm hummus at Abu Hassan's on Shvitai Yisrael, where the leather-faced men behind the counter bark at you when your order is ready, their brash tones belied by kind, amused eyes.

My Jaffa is Hebrew spoken through Arabic consonants and vowels, and Arabic spoken joyously, freely, and loudly by men in cafes and women with their children in the streets. I learned what I could from my students, and soon enough found myself on the corner in the garden, crying out "yallah tulab!" to call them in for a lesson. When I began to speak to them in pieces of their own language, they eyed me as though I had cracked a secret code. It was the first time I felt a sense of belonging in Jaffa. It was not to be the last. I took an exercise class in the basement of the matnas. For some reason, I was undaunted by the prospect of a Hebrew-speaking aerobics instructor and about twenty Arab-speaking women. Aerobics is a pretty fast-paced activity to engage in through two language barriers, but we did our best.

These concentric circles I inhabited may as well have been completely set apart. Many Israelis I knew could not understand why I volunteered with Arab children. When I asked an Israeli friend, a decade-long Tel Avivi, to meet me on Jaffa beach, I waited for him for half an hour on the boardwalk before calling him to discover he was twenty minutes north near the Dolphinarium. For him, Jaffa is a boundary, not a place in its own right.

Still, for all the time I spent in Jaffa, there were some questions I never had the courage to ask. I wanted to know--did they rank their identities, as I, an American and a Jew, felt somehow compelled to do? Did they consider themselves Israeli? If a Palestinian state were to be created, would they want to stay, or leave? These are the questions that Avigdor Lieberman would ask of my friends and students in Jaffa. Perhaps they are ultimately unavoidable, if there is to be an end to the current political and geographical impasse. But I fear for my friends in the wake of their answers. I hope that Lieberman will learn to see my Jaffa. I think that if he could, he would not be so eager to purge it, and the people who inhabit it, from the Israeli landscape and soul.

Galilee Diary: Green thoughts II: My space

2009-03-17T20:11:04Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Once there was a man who was clearing stones from his field and throwing them into the public domain. A pious one kept nagging him: "Why are you clearing stones from what is not yours and throwing them into your own space?" The man ignored him. Later, he sold that field, and was walking past it and tripped on the stones. He said, "Now I understand what that guy meant with his nonsense." -Mishnah Ta'anit 1:5

Visitors often wonder why it often seems that in Arab villages, the insides of the homes are spotless and well maintained while the streets are littered with garbage. The answer I have received is a cultural one, regarding the perception of "my space" vs. no-one's space: what is inside my courtyard is my responsibility. What is outside is no man's land. When the population is small and the refuse is minimal and quickly biodegradable (which was the case around here until the 20th century), that approach was sustainable. It isn't any more - but cultures change slowly.

And the problem is by no means limited to Arab villages. Visiting an Israeli national park the day after a holiday can be really depressing. The garbage cans were already filled to the top, early on the holiday, with the detritus of picnics, disposable diapers, etc. But the people kept on picnicking, and the park workers were on holiday leave, and the garbage can was seen as no-man's land; therefore, people continued to pile their garbage on top of the can, carefully balancing it there, or not, not really stopping to consider an alternative, or the consequences of leaving garbage piled in the open for what would clearly be several days.

The "tragedy of the commons," the failure to understand the consequences of treating the public domain as no-man's land, has long been a feature of Israeli culture that has driven visitors from the west crazy. From large scale industrial pollution to the tossing of empty cigarette packs out of car windows, the obliviousness of large sectors of the population to any responsibility for the public domain is sometimes unbelievable. I know plenty of curmudgeons (generally Anglo immigrants, like me for example) who will pick up the popsicle wrapper and courteously return it to the kid who just tossed it ("Oh, I think you dropped this..."). Quixotic, perhaps, but satisfying.

While cultures change slowly, they do in fact change, and it is possible to discern some advancement in Israel in recent decades. As the garbage gets deeper and more durable, and as we are influenced by global trends, there do seem to be signs of changing consciousness. Recently, there have been reports of somewhat reduced mountains of garbage in parks after holidays. There is growing awareness of recycling (though the 0.25 shekel bottle/can deposit law has not been very successful, and most people don't bother). The school system and youth movements certainly try hard to instill a sense of responsibility for public spaces.

It's interesting and ironic that we quote with reverence Trumpledor's "It is good to die for our land," and we engage in emotional and even violent arguments over just how holy the land is and to whom it is more holy - and yet the land itself somehow gets ignored and even violated. Maybe it's like parents in a bitter custody battle - sometimes the kids themselves seem to get forgotten. Twenty-first century Zionism needs to focus less on owning and controlling the land and more on taking responsibility for it - and on sharing that responsibility with everyone who lives here.

Salient Memories

2009-03-12T14:13:59Z

By Rabbi Richard Winer
(Originally posted on Divrei Derech)

Now that I've returned from the C.C.A.R. Conference in Israel, I consider the details that rise to the surface in my recollections.

One moment keeps coming back.

The day after the conference concluded, I returned to the Old City to explore further. A couple of us wandered through the alleys enjoying the sensory experience. We wound down through the Shuk and into the Jewish Quarter. As I stood waiting while my companion poked into one of the shops, an entourage came winding along toward the Wall. I gathered that they were on their way to celebrate a Bar Mitzvah. A youth walked along under a chuppah while a man who appeared to be the proud father led the group singing.

But there was more.

The father interrupted the revelry. From where I stood I could clearly here him recite the words of a prayer. It sounded spontaneous and directly from the heart. The father of the Bar Mitzvah was offering a prayer for the safety and welfare of the soldiers, and for their eventual safe return home.

As I look back on this recent trip to Israel, this image clearly stands as one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in the time I've spent there. It is a beautiful illustration of the Talmudic quote: Kol Yisrael aravim zeh b'zeh - All Israel are responsible for one another. (Shavuot 39a)

I was honored to witness this tender moment in the life of our people Israel.

Galilee Diary: Ivory Tower

2009-03-10T20:51:45Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Yehoshua ben Perachia said, Make for yourself a teacher (master), acquire for yourself a colleague, and judge every person favorably. -Mishnah, tractate Avot 1:6

Thursday was a warm sunny winter day after a difficult couple of weeks. I welcomed the opportunity to drive myself to Jerusalem, enjoying three mindless off-peak hours as the scenery sped by. The occasion was a seminar in honor of the retirement of Prof. Emanuel Etkes from the Jewish history department of the Hebrew University. There were learned papers presented by eight of his students who are now lecturers and professors in their own right, hors d'oeuvres in the soaring lobby of the new Jewish studies building that was not even a fundraiser's dream when I was a student at Hebrew U., and a few personal reminiscences and presentations. And home in the Galilee by midnight.

In 1982 I met with the revered Prof. Jacob Katz about writing a doctorate in Jewish history at the Hebrew University. He told me he had retired and was taking no new doctoral students, but he would pass me on to his senior student, Emanuel Etkes, and would help me choose a topic. We chose "The New Jew" - studying the attempt to create a new Jewish identity, by education, in pre-State Palestine. I was Etkes' first doctoral advisee - and the topic was well outside of his field of 18-19th century Eastern European intellectual history. But he couldn't say no to Katz. The next three years were for me an intensive, formative experience, an opportunity to understand Israeli culture in its historical development, to explore questions of educational philosophy that would be relevant to every position I've ever held, to grapple with central issues of Jewish and Israeli identity that still remain unresolved after a century of trial and error. It was my good fortune to fall in with an academic of impeccable research credentials yet who saw has central mission in life to be teaching - and who is indeed a master. I wrote my dissertation in Hebrew and hired an editor to help polish it. Etkes was not satisfied with her work, and re-edited almost every page himself. And in Israel in 1985, "cut and paste" was still something you did with scissors and glue. Etkes knew that my thesis would reflect on him as a rising academic in a competitive environment - but he also knew that for me it was not going to be my academic calling card, for my direction in life was elsewhere; rather he made it an amazing educational experience for me, which I think gave both of us a chance to reflect on issues of education, culture, Jewish identity and Israel, in ways that became part of everything I did afterwards.

The lectures at the seminar in his honor helped me realize that Emanuel Etkes' on-going studies of Hasidism and the opposition to it, of Haskalah in Russia, of the yeshivot of Lithuania and Jerusalem, of the Musar movement, have not been mere dry academic research and are not a world apart from the concerns of my PhD exercise. On the contrary - they are clearly part of a deep and committed search to discover who we are here, how we got that way, and where we are going. As the American educator Parker Palmer says, "You teach what you are."

And another realization: The Hebrew University is of course just another world class university struggling against budget cuts, brain drain, mediocrity, etc. But historically, remember, it is THE Hebrew University - founded in 1918 (!) to represent the pinnacle of the synthesis of Jewish and Western thought and culture (Einstein, Freud, and Buber were on the board...), to be a powerful force for the building of the old-new Israeli culture in the land of Israel, to "restore the crown," in which the wisdom of the yeshivah and the wisdom of modern scientific thought would bring us new understandings of Judaism and give the new state its "High Culture." Looking around the room, contemplating Etkes' achievements and the rise of a whole new generation of scholars who "knew not Katz," it was nice to see that sometimes we really do get it right, that visions really can become reality.

Hebrew is Palpitating My Heart

2009-03-04T15:48:24Z

By Rabbi Paul Kipnes
(Originally posted on Or Am I?)

There's another aspect of being in Israel that palpitates my heart. Hebrew. Danny Siegel, poet and tzedakah (charitable giving) champion, once wrote the poem, Hebrew:

I'll tell you how much I love Hebrew:
Read me anything Genesis,
or an ad in an Israeli paper, and watch my face.
I will make half sounds of ecstasy,
and my smile will be so enormously sweet
you would think some angels were singing Psalms
or God alone was reciting to me.
I am crazy for her Holiness
and each restaurant's menu in Yerushalayim or Bialik poem
gives me peace no Dante or Milton or Goethe could give.
I have heard Iliads of poetry, Omar Khayyam in Farsi,
and Virgil sung as if the poet himself were coaching the reader.
And they move me
But not like the train schedule from Haifa to Tel Aviv
or a choppy unsyntaxed note from a student
who got half the grammar I taught him all wrong
but remembered to write with Alefs and Zayins and Shins.
That's the way I am.
I'd rather hear the weather report on Kol Yisrael
than all the rhythms and music of Shakespeare.

This poem captures one scrumptious aspect of my trip to Israel. Being immersed in Hebrew. Having spent two full years in Israel (post-High School gap year, and first year of Rabbinic School), I learned enough Hebrew to be semi-fluent (at least as far as conversations about eating, politics, religion and day-to-day living). But I was self-conscious enough to let my Hebrew slide. Then, a year ago, I hired a Hebrew tutor to meet me once weekly at a local coffee shop, so that I could talk and hear Hebrew. We graduated to some reading of newspapers and stories. Then she brought me a book in simple Hebrew (Shlosha Yamim Vayeled - Three Days and a Boy) and I surprised myself by plowing through it very quickly. Now as I journey around Jerusalem and the rest of the country, I relish opportunities to speak, read and immerse myself in the Holy Tongue. (I recently wrote about my Love Affair with the Holy Tongue here).

It is important to me, as a Jew and a Rabbi, to be able to communicate in our people's language. So I traded family histories with the taxi driver in Hebrew. I spent a morning studying with Israelis in the Pluralistic Beit Midrash (study session) all in Hebrew. I am tantalized by the Hebrew in the signs for auto parts or housewares. I find myself eavesdropping on the conversations in the Beit Café (coffee shop), because the Israelis' Hebrew is finally becoming intelligible. The news on the radio, in Hebrew (speaking still a bit too quickly for me), challenges me to deepen my command of the language. Though most Israelis want to speak with me in English, I respond to them in Hebrew. I can pretty much get along solely in Hebrew. Very cool.

While English was the main language of the CCAR convention, but true to our commitment to the Holy Tongue, our program committee raised up the offerings in Hebrew. Our CCAR convention offered a plethora of opportunities to study texts in Hebrew, to interact with Israelis in Hebrew, and to pray only in Hebrew. In short, so many American Reform Rabbis are fluent in Hebrew - thanks to our mandatory first year of study in Jerusalem. Because we recognize that the Hebrew language connects Jews everywhere as one people.

By the way, the picture is of me and Rabbi Rick Winer (who blogs at Divrei Derech). I'm the good looking one (on the right).

Galilee Diary: Remembering Amalek

2009-03-03T20:34:12Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)
Therefore, when the Lord your God grants you safety from all your enemies around you, in the land that the Lord your God is giving you as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget.
-Deuteronomy 25:19

There were criminals in Rabbi Meir's neighborhood that so bothered him that he prayed for their death. Beruriah, his wife, said to him: "What's with you? Psalm 104:35 says, 'May sins disappear' - does it say 'may sinners disappear?' No, it says 'sins,' so you need to pray for them to repent; the Psalm continues 'and may the wicked be no more.' So he prayed for them and they repented.
-Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 10a

Haman, according to the Scroll of Esther, was a member of the tribe of Amalek. Thus, we learn the consequences of disregarding the Torah commandment to wipe out the memory of Amalek - as long as they are allowed to continue to exist, they remain a threat, the enemy who for no rational reason constantly plots our destruction. And we read the above passage on the Shabbat before Purim every year, to keep the lesson alive. The basis of this image of the Amalekites is found in the previous verse: we are told that right after we left Egypt, they attacked us cruelly and without provocation. The story of Amalek - and of Purim - posits a view of history in which there are forces of evil that can only be combated by means of violence, by destroying them physically. Their evil is inherent and immutable, and so, like some kind of virulent microbe in a horror movie, as long as even a few cells are left alive, there is the potential that they will regenerate into a monster. We may believe, in principle, that all humans are created in the Divine image, but apparently there are some who have so lost touch with that image that they are unredeemable.

One can certainly see the evidence for this view in the events of our history - from Amalek to Haman to Chmelnitzki to Hitler - we keep encountering enemies who seem to be beyond education and negotiation, whose hatred for us transcends their own self-interest and seems driven by forces beyond understanding. In this context, Beruriah's feminine wisdom seems naïve - what, we should have offered the Nazis diversity-training seminars? We should negotiate with terrorists? We should reason with the devil? Our history is full of sad stories of tragically humane and optimistic individuals and communities who believed that everything could be worked out, that we only had to appeal to our oppressors' enlightened self-interest, or to wait for their conscience to shine through; for we know that people can change, that the gates of repentance stand eternally open for everyone. More than once, we and our optimistic view of human nature and God's mercy went up in smoke together.

So there is something tempting about seeing Amalek in every enemy. That's the way they are - that's their inborn character. Trying to educate them is hopeless; the only solution is to blot out their memory. Let the evildoers die - then wickedness will be no more. There are a few problems with this approach, it seems to me. First, it is a bit of a slippery slope - once you start down the path of destroying those who you see as evil, you can end up doing a lot of damage that in retrospect may well turn out to be unwarranted. Second, we have been on the receiving end of the pestilential image of the Other, so we may need to be careful about the temptation to identify the Other as inhuman. Third, are we indeed prepared make the statement about human nature that people cannot change? And fourth, this mythical view of human evil absolves us of any responsibility for the bad things that happen to us - evil persons and groups are out there in the world, lurking, and we, their victims, can only repair the world by deleting them. Rabbi Meir wanted to take the easy way - hit them hard enough and they'll leave you alone. Beruriah's path is a longer and more difficult and uncertain one - fraught with frustration and danger; but I wonder if there is any other way to redemption.

Eat a Falafel and Chips for Me

2009-02-26T17:41:25Z

By JanetheWriter
A number of my friends, in commenting about my escapades in the I'm-searching-for-a-good-guy-in-NYC quest, have told me that they're happy to take a back seat and live the adventure vicariously through me.

Although I can certainly appreciate vicariousness in certain situations, if given a choice, it's not the way I'd opt to visit Israel. However, since it doesn't appear that I'll have the opportunity to visit there any time in the foreseeable future, it's the only mode of travel I've got at the moment. Lucky for me, though, with 300-some Reform rabbis gallivanting around Eretz Yisrael attending the CCAR convention this week in Jerusalem, I'm certainly getting a good dose of virtual Israel through them.

For starters, every afternoon (it's already late evening in Israel) at about the same time a certain rabbi calls from the Inbal Hotel to check in on what's happening back at the office in New York. Bizarre as it sounds, when we chat, some of the magic of Jerusalem comes right through the phone and lingers in my office until long after we've ended our call. Yup, that's Jerusalem for you.

Others are posting regularly on Facebook and their blogs. And so it is that I know that earlier in the week, many of the women visited the Wall, where, as part of the observance of Rosh Chodesh, they created quite a ruckus by singing, which, according to traditional Jewish law, women are forbidden from doing in places where it can be heard by men. Here's a first-person account from one of the women who was there. And here's another perspective from one of the men. Although I'm not a rabbi and although I wasn't there to sing in person, I certainly was there with them in spirit.

And then there's the falafel. Before they left, I asked a few of the travelers to eat a falafel and chips for me. One, a young rabbi from Minnesota, gave me, again with the help of Facebook, a delightful description of his culinary experience:

Young rabbi: "I wandered around Jerusalem this afternoon before the conference started and managed to find my favorite falafel place at the Mahane Yehuda market. I didn't take the most direct route, but I found it, and had falafel in a pita with chips and hot sauce for you!"

Me: "You're the best! Thanks...hope you enjoyed it."

Young rabbi: "I did enjoy. My stomach, not so much. :) But I'm still glad I had one."

Me: "Should I take a Tums?!"

Young rabbi: "I think we'll be okay. :)"

Me: "Great! Enjoy the rest of the visit."

Another rabbi, who's hoping to post a lot of photos and video during the trip said, "I'll try and capture myself with a falafel and chips...or more likely a schwarma."

To which I replied, "Schwarma's good too...enjoy!"

Indeed, in addition to falafel and schwarma, I hope that all those rabbis eat and drink so generously of the indescribable electricity, magic and spirit of Israel that when they return safely home they've got plenty left to share with the rest of us.

Travel safely and Godspeed, my friends.

Crawling with Reform Rabbis

2009-02-24T21:07:59Z

By Rabbi Paul Kipnes
(Originally posted on Or Am I?)
This country is crawling with Reform Rabbis. They are much harder here to identify then the ultraorthodox ones, mind you, but with the opening of the convention of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR) beginning on Tuesday, this country is again crawling with Reform Rabbis. (Truth in advertising: there were already plenty of Reform rabbis living here. Through Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion's Israeli Rabbinic program there are a plethora of homegrown Israeli rabbis, and a vibrant American and English rabbinical aliyah has brought numerous Diaspora rabbis to make this country their home. But I refer now to Diaspora rabbis.) Yes, Israel is crawling with Reform (or as we like to say here, Progressive) rabbis.

And that's a good thing, mind you, given that Israelis have - across the board - become so alienated from their Jewish heritage/identity/reality by the inflexibility, sexism and political machinations of the Chief Rabbinate and orthodox religious parties. In ever greater numbers, they are embracing the authentic alternative our movement - T'nu'at Yahadut Mitkademet, the Israeli Movement for Progressive Judaism - offers. This influx of rabbis injects our movement here with a healthy dose of support, during a time in which they are increasingly igniting a passion for Judaism in the minds of Israelis.

That's a good thing, mind you, because since the early 1970's when HUC-JIR instituted its Year in Israel program, requiring all American Reform Rabbis to spend their first year of study in Israel, our American Reform Rabbinate has become infused even more deeply than ever with ahavat yisrael, a love of Israel. Service to the Jewish people begins with an understanding that being a Jew equals being part of a Jewish people, that the religion is part, but not the totality, of that reality, and that Israel is and has always been central to that identity.

That's a good thing, mind you, because no matter how many trips to Israel we Reform Rabbis lead for/with our congregants, there is something uniquely poignant about coming home to Israel, making Aliyat haNefesh, if you will, with the very people with whom we spent so many months exploring the country in our adult years. (What's Aliyat haNefesh, a spiritual ascent? Here's my understanding.)

A Reform Rabbinical Convention in Jerusalem
Once every seven years, the CCAR meets for its annual convention in Jerusalem. For a few, this is their every seven years return artza (to the land). For many of us, who try to visit Israel every year or so, this is just another excuse to come home to the Holy Land. For our Movement, this is a clear indication of the depth of our connection to Zion.

Yesterday, with my small touring group of congregants, we visited the new Museum at Har Herzl (Mt. Herzl, Israel's national military cemetery). A brilliantly designed, multimedia experience, the Museum makes you feel like you are falling in love - with the once completely assimilated, non-Jewishly connected Theodore Herzl - with the idea of a Jewish State.

Which led one of our tour participants to ask why in his pre-Bar Mitzvah Jewish education did he not really come to understand the significance of this movement for statehood. Which led me to explain how education is often lost on the youth. Which led him to ask if he ever really learned about early zionism at school or camp. Which led me to suggest that while most all Reform and Conservative schools teach the history of early Zionism, we in our youth are so caught up in ourselves (and irritated that we have to attend supplementary school in the afternoon after our secular school lets out) that we miss half of what we are taught. Which led to the realization that the best way to instill ahavat yisrael, a love of Israel, is to make it possible for the largest number of Jews to visit the Holy Land. Which explains the critical nature of Birthright and annual congregational trips to Israel.

Which explains why, this spiritual ascent to Jerusalem, once every seven years, specially designed for rabbis (and their spouses/partners), is so important. We reconnect with the back alleyways of Israel's cities, create new kesher (connections) with Israelis across the spectrum, recharge the many facets of our tziyonut (Zionism), and literally fall in love with this country yet again and again.

So Israel is beginning to crawl with Reform Rabbis, as more than 300 of us will gather together for our kinus (conference). And while that will give some ultra-orthodox leaders the creepy-crawlies, it illuminates a indisputable reality: that the Diaspora and Israel are connected by a multidirectional umbilical cord infuses us all - Americans, Israelis, English, Germans, South Americans, Canadians, Russians and... - with a rich heritage and a meaningful Jewish future.

A Certain Holiness
Thus writes the tzedakah wonder worker and poet Danny Siegel:

It was that time of Jerusalem day when the sun chooses
any one of many hills to wash in gold,
the time of day the City assumes a touch of the romantic's magic.
The religious said blessings.
The eloquent called to mind lines memorized in school
for moments such as these
and wrote new songs from notes made of beams.
Others still, held hands and kissed for all this beauty
whose truest words are whispers and sighs and halfsounds,
hints of interjections no one can put to a rhythm
not Shelley, nor Wordsworth, nor the grandsweeping Lord Byron.
And Mozart and Schumann deceive us,
trying to make keys and oboes and strings say things
only a Jewish heart in love with the Holiest of Places
can say.

Galilee Diary: Green thoughts I: Answer us!

2009-02-24T20:55:03Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Take care not to be lured away to serve other gods and bow to them. For the Lord's anger will flare up against you and He will shut up the skies so that there will be no rain... -Deuteronomy 11:17
If the rains have not come by Rosh Chodesh Kislev, the Bet Din decrees three days of fasting for the entire public... -Mishnah Ta'anit 1:5

Here it is past mid-February and we are finally having some winter storms. But it is clearly too little too late. The disappearance of the Kinneret - like that of the Dead Sea - is already taken for granted. It used to be that the level of the Kinneret was frequently front page news. But by now, no one is really interested, as there is a feeling that there's nothing we can do about it, and it's not going to change, so why go on about it. I mean, we don't have a government, we have Hamas on the south and Hezbollah on the north, don't nag us about water conservation. Actually, as I write this, the two main spring water bottlers in the country have shut down because of mysterious contamination, so there is a looming shortage of bottled water. Now maybe people will get upset...

It's interesting to look at the classical view of drought in the land of Israel. The Bible makes it very clear that God's favor is bestowed in the rain - and when there is no rain, it is because we have behaved in such a way as to anger God; the drought is a punishment for our sins as a nation. Hence, when there is a drought, the Mishnah teaches, we are not helpless: there are things we can do. The entire tractate of Ta'anit is devoted to the details of the escalating regime of special prayers and public fasts intended to convince God of our remorse for our wrongdoing, and to implore his forgiveness - to be expressed in rainfall.

To our modern scientific consciousness, this system seems hopelessly primitive. It seems a bit ridiculous to think that our morality can affect the weather. And many people smirk at the news reports of Orthodox rabbis, in our time, holding special public prayers for rain.

And yet, from another perspective, what's so far-fetched about thinking we do bear responsibility for our water crisis? After all, isn't it our sins of over-consumption, waste, and selfishness that are indeed the primary reasons for the shortages we now experience? OK, not eating for a few days won't make it rain - but using less water and other stuff, day after day, might have averted this drought. For Deuteronomy it was a God who gets angry and punishes. For us today it is an awareness that our behavior does indeed affect the balance of nature and has the potential of bringing disaster on us; punishment? Cause and effect? Whatever, acting as if we were not involved, as if it were fate or sunspots - or a problem to be solved by future generations - was not acceptable for the rabbis of the Mishnah, and it is not acceptable in a world of scarce resources and global interdependence.

In Israel, in addition to the general lack of consciousness of the large scale effects of small scale actions (waste, pollution), our water crisis has been exacerbated by an ideological mismatch as well. Zionism was all about pioneering, about settling the land, about reclaiming the swamp and the desert. It was about being reborn as earthy, productive farmers instead of parasitic luftmenschen. So agriculture, even water-intensive agriculture not suited to the local conditions, has a special place in Israeli history and culture; cutting what experts say are exaggerated water allowances for agriculture is perceived as violating the Zionist dream. Exporting oranges is, after all, exporting water. So we don't just need conservation campaigns and policies - we need to re-imagine our vision of restoration, to reformulate what it means to love the land.

Aliyat haNefesh, My Soul Ascends to Jerusalem

2009-02-24T20:42:18Z

By Rabbi Paul Kipnes
(Originally posted on Or Am I?)

I'm in Israel now. This might be a good time to reflect upon the purpose of this trip. My Israel Adventure 2009 has three purposes:

To attend the convention of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (Reform Movement rabbis) who meet once in seven years in Israel;
To help guide a small group of Or Ami people (a congregant and his current/future sons-in-law) through Israel;
To make my annual Aliyat haNefesh (spiritual ascent) to our Jewish holy land.

What is this Aliyat haNefesh? On Shabbat and Holy Days, when we marched with Torah we sing a verse from Tanach: Ki mitziyon tetzei Torah, u'dvar Adonai mirushalayim - From out of Zion comes forth Torah and the word of God from Jerusalem. Purposely placed in the middle of the prayer service, this song trumpets our Jewish reality: that on some cosmic (metaphysical?) level, we are all connected as Jews to Zion, to Israel, by an unseen umbilical cord. We Jews are called from deep within to reconnect to the womb.

Back on Yom Kippur 2007/5768, I spoke to Congregation Or Ami about deepening our relationship with Israel. I paraphrased the writings of my colleague (the rabbi of my youth, one of my role models) then President of the Association of Reform Zionist of America, Rabbi Stanley Davids, who called for an aliyat hanefesh, a spiritual aliyah. (My sermon also draws from the writings of Rabbi Robert H. Loewy.)

Today, on Yom Kippur, I call for a new kind of connection to Israel, an aliyat hanefesh, a spiritual aliyah. Aliyah, from the root, Ayin-Lamed-Hey means to rise up. When you move to Israel, like my (then) 19 year old niece Yonina did, we say you make aliyah. When traveling in Israel, and you go to Jerusalem, even if you are in the north traveling down south, we say la'alot lirushalayim - that you make go up to Jerusalem, rising up to our spiritual center. When you ascend the bimah to bless Torah, we say you have an aliyah, rising up to that spiritual plane.

I ask you all to consider making it a religious duty to participate in an "aliyat hanefesh, a spiritual aliyah." Let it be "a soul-driven aliyah that places love for Israel near the center of our lives. Aliyat hanefesh could be expressed by visits for study and for vacations, by extended sabbatical stays, by making certain that our children and grandchildren have extensive personal experiences of Israel, by becoming informed advocates for Israel and by personally making certain to celebrate Yom Ha'atzmaut as a religious holiday each May."
Today, this Yom Kippur, I call for each of us to recommit to the covenant with God by committing to travel to Israel soon and again. Let us walk the streets of our holy land once every 5 to 10 years. Let its holiness wash over our souls...

For me, once every 5 years is not enough. It is my hope, my goal, to lead a group of Or Ami congregants to Israel once every 12 to 18 months. So while our Or Ami Summer 2009 trip was canceled - the economy took its toll on everyone's travel plans - this CCAR convention, and Mark's desire to take his sons-in-law for a week of touring, provided me with the opportunity to fulfill this year's aliyat hanefesh.

Confronting Our Demagogue

2009-02-19T19:37:38Z

by Rabbi Eric Yoffie
(Originally published in The Forward and Ten Minutes of Torah)
The apologists and the excuse-makers in the American Jewish community have begun their work. No need for concern, they say. Avigdor Lieberman, leader of Israel's Yisrael Beiteinu party, is not really an extremist. He may have some unconventional ideas and have said some unfortunate things, but he is basically a mainstream politician who poses no threat to U.S.-Israel relations or to relations between Israel and American Jews.

Much of the debate until now has focused on whether or not Lieberman can be accurately classified as a racist or a fascist. But this debate is largely beside the point. A far-right politician on the European model, he has risen to prominence at a time of uncertainty and fear by alleging that Israel faces a threat from within. Like other demagogues of this type, he has been sly in his rhetoric so that allegations of racism cannot be established with certainty.

Nonetheless, the thrust of his campaign was anything but ambiguous. His intention was to inflame hatred of Arab Israelis among the Jewish Israeli public. His major policy proposal was a loyalty oath clearly intended to disenfranchise Israel's Arab citizens and turn them into residents without rights. It was an outrageous, abominable, hate-filled campaign, brimming with incitement that, if left unchecked, could lead Israel to the gates of hell.

The challenges posed by the relationship between the Jewish state and its Arab citizens are certainly real. Demagogues thrive by focusing on real issues. It is legitimate to be concerned about the distancing of Arab Israelis from the Jewish state and about ensuring a Jewish majority in Israel. But no one in his or her right mind believes that these problems will be solved by rescinding the Israeli citizenship of more than a million Arabs.

American Jews -- the vast majority of whom are strong supporters of Israel as both a Jewish and a democratic state -- are dismayed by Lieberman, mostly because he represents values that we abhor. Furthermore, we know that America's commitment to Israel rests far more on shared values than on strategic interests, and thus we see him as a threat to the U.S.-Israel alliance. In addition, there is reason to worry that he will blacken Israel's name among the democratic nations of the world.

It would, of course, be a mistake to obsess about Lieberman and to grant him greater importance than he deserves. Remember that he received only about 12% of the vote, much of it a protest against the perceived weakness of the other major-party leaders. And, it's safe to say, most Israelis find his views utterly unacceptable. Still, Israel's bizarre parliamentary politics could elevate him to a position of real power. What is important, therefore, is for all concerned to do what is necessary to limit his influence and visibility.

If the party forming the next government can keep Lieberman out of the coalition, it should; if not, he should be exiled to the margins of the government, and it should be made clear at every opportunity that he does not speak for Israel.

But American Jewish leaders, too, face a significant test. For all those who claim to speak and lobby on our behalf, who fight antisemitism whenever it appears, and who champion Jewish rights everywhere, this is a moment of truth. If we are silent or speak the language of equivocation, we will weaken rather than strengthen Israel's cause. We will also undermine our credibility with our government and with American Jews, who are looking to us for leadership. We do not make excuses for the haters, the bigots and the demagogues who incite against Jews and other minorities around the world, and we must not make excuses when the inciter is one of our own.

Galilee Diary: Wandering Jews

2009-02-17T19:12:05Z

By Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

The word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai: Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim judgment upon it; for their wickedness has come before Me. Jonah however, started out to flee to Tarshish from the Lord's service. He went down to Jaffa and found a ship going to Tarshish. -Jonah 1:1-3

Ran into a neighbor this evening, whose daughter left last week on her Big Trip - After Army Before University. She is doing fine, and has already been tubing on the Mekong River (for my generation it is still a little difficult to get our heads around the idea of floating down the Mekong River, for recreation); meanwhile, she reported that everywhere she goes in the region she hears Hebrew being spoken. We exchanged notes, as our daughter had called in yesterday from Ethiopia, just back from a trek in the Simien Mountains - having had a beer in Addis Ababa a week ago with the friend of a friend who was passing through. Which was nothing unusual - our younger son, on his Trip a few years ago, was sitting in a pub in a small town in southern Chile, on the way to Tierra del Fuego, when in walked the daughter of another neighbor. And in case you were wondering how these kids pay for all these excursions, just walk into any shopping mall in North America and say "shalom" to the first pushcart vendor you encounter.

There are some kids who travel to Europe, and some who buy a car and drive across North America, but by far the majority direct their sights to the third (or formerly third) world - South America, Africa, India, China, Southeast Asia. There was once a very strong focus on India, but as the numbers of kids traveling has grown, so has the variety of destinations. It's interesting that travel has become a rite of passage for middle class Israeli young adults - the way it once was for upper class Americans and Europeans. However, unlike the aristocrats and nouveau riches of the 19th century, these travelers are not going to imbibe the high culture of Europe, to get in touch with the classics; rather they are seeking physical challenge, exotic experiences - the very cultures that are the most foreign to them, where they have no roots or collective memory whatsoever. On the other hand, I imagine that what they do have in common with young travelers of a century ago is an urge to "get away," to deal with the unexpected and the uncomfortable, to demonstrate self- reliance.

Israel, being small with somewhat impermeable borders, can feel pretty claustrophobic. Even combat soldiers come home almost every weekend, bringing their laundry with them, and going back Sunday morning well stocked with home cooked delicacies. If you really want to get away from the embrace of family and community, you have to leave the country. The army may be for some a maturing experience, but it is not exactly a place where you get to test your independence (and those who try get to spend their weekends grounded on the base instead of eating Mom's cooking at home). Moreover, for all Israel's being an ingathering of exiles from the four corners of the earth, it can feel like a pretty homogeneous and conformist place, where we don't really encourage people to look at the world from different cultural perspectives. So we hit the road before locking ourselves into the next phase of the rat race.

Having observed my own children - and friends' and neighbors ' children - go through this rite, I really see it as a positive experience. They learn and grow, and it's fun to track them on Google Earth, trying to imagine what they are seeing. At the same time there is some irony in the fact that we live in Asia: not in European or North American culture - but in the middle of the Middle East; I can walk in twenty minutes from my house to a community where the dominant culture is one that has been seen by the West for centuries as the epitome of exoticism, where I don't speak the language, where the social mores are a world apart from mine. This is a remarkably interesting and complicated place. I guess I am currently in the 19th year of my Big Trip.

Opinions on the Israeli Elections

2009-02-12T22:08:33Z

This past Tuesday, Israelis went to the polls to elect a new prime minister, and Tzipi Livni's moderate Kadima Party won a one-seat victory in the Israeli Parliament over Benjamin Netanyahu's hard-line Likud Party. Kadima will get 28 seats in the 120-seat parliament and Likud 27, far less than the 61-seat majority needed to govern alone. The results set the stage for what could be weeks of coalition negotiations. Livni and Netanyahu are already hard at work trying to line up potential partners.

Subscribers to the Union's Ten Minutes of Torah received an editorial today written by The Editors of The Jewish Week, opining that the real losers of the elections are the Israeli people:

"The fact that so many voters were undecided up to the last minute was a reflection of frustration and anger among an electorate, burdened by a dysfunctional electoral system and a list of leading candidates who offered no fresh ideas on how to deal with the country's most pressing -- even existential -- problems. These include continuing rocket attacks from Hamas in Gaza, the threat of the same from Hezbollah in Lebanon, the inability of the increasingly marginal Palestinian Authority to negotiate a meaningful conclusion to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the specter of Iran continuing its efforts to build a nuclear arsenal and make good on its pledge to eradicate the Jewish state.

That's not to mention domestic issues, from the economy to declining education to corruption in government.

The consensus is that whoever emerges as prime minister will have little chance of stepping up negotiations with a Palestinian Authority involved in a political, and sometimes armed, civil war with Hamas, an erstwhile partner that remains covenantally committed to the destruction of Israel and Jews everywhere." Read the full article on The Jewish Week's website.

Israel's electoral process may seem confusing for those who are not familiar with its complex procedures. A blog called "The Israel Situation" gives us a good breakdown of the process in "The Israel Election Process Explained", as does the blog "Israel Politik".

ARZA has also posted reactions from Reform Jews, a roundup of articles on the most recent developments, and links to the credible news sources from Israel on their home page including JTA's special coverage, Israel Votes 2009.

Included in the ARZA coverage is a piece by Rabbi Ira Youdovin, Chairman of ARZA's Rabbinic Council, who examines two issues that he feels are of interest to Reform congregations: Israel's pull to the right, and the moderate success of the Israel Beitenu party led by Avigdor Lieberman.

"... Lieberman's racist---and arguably fascist---positions are drawing attention. Even more significantly, they are being embraced by a growing number of Israelis, particularly the young. Fifteen seats may represent only 12.5% of the total vote cast and an increase of less than 3 percentage points over the last election. But any percentage above zero is disturbing, and any increase, however small, is alarming.

A member of my family castigates American Jewish leaders for not speaking out more forcefully against Lieberman's policies. Until now, our reticence might be justified on the grounds of non-interference in an election campaign. We know how agitated we get when Israelis try to tell us how to vote. It works both ways.

But now that the election is over, it's of critical importance that we send a clear message to both Livni and Netanyahu that, whatever else they may offer to entice Israel-Beiteinu, even the slightest compromise of the rights of Israel's Palestinian citizens is unacceptable, and will do serious damage to Israel's relations with the United States and most other nations of the world, and with our own North American Jewish community."

Galilee Diary: Changing channels

2009-02-09T22:06:51Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Happy is the man who has not followed the counsel of the wicked, or taken the path of sinners, or joined the company of the inane. -Psalm 1:1

We do not go to the stadium because it is the "company of the inane;" Rabbi Nathan permits [attending the gladiatorial contests] in order to shout and save a life - or in order to bear witness [to the death of a Jewish gladiator] and thus release the widow to remarry. The sages taught: We don't go to theaters and circuses... If there is idol worship there, we don' t attend because of that; if not, then we don't attend because it is the "company of the inane." -Babylonian Talmud, Avodah Zarah 18b

Last week I was asked to teach an internet in-service session for "Jewish Roots" teachers in ORT schools, on the topic of "Reality TV and Jewish Identity." At first I thought, "Right, how about the elephant and the Jewish question?" But then I understood that the request was based on two concerns - how to make Jewish text study relevant to the students' lives - and the teachers' concern with the moral values or lack thereof in the popular culture of their students.

First of all, it's important to point out that while Israel now has satellite TV, and even without it, quite a few channels available to everyone, it is still a small country, in which a seemingly trivial cultural fad can seem to totally saturate the national consciousness. I remember when there was only one television channel, you could walk down the street on a summer evening and set your watch according to the theme song from Dallas, coming out of every window. We've come a long way since then, but when a reality show has a significant "event" (e.g., deciding who to remove from the island, or the vote on "A Star is Born"), you can't schedule a meeting or a school program that evening. And even if you don't watch, it will be on the front page of the mass circulation tabloids.

Before reality shows, the youth entertainment fad here was the South American "telenovella" serials. There's always something. Indeed, already in 1912 the historian Joseph Klausner published an attack on the shallowness and ignorance of Israeli youth. When I came on EIE in 1962, I was taken aback to discover that my classmates were obsessed with Paul Anka, not with authentic Hebrew music. But wait, perhaps this isn't a modern phenomenon at all - look at the Talmudic discussion above, of Jewish attendance at the theater. It seems that while there were some rabbis who found a moral defense for participating in pop culture, the dominant attitude seems to have been "Jews shouldn't go there" (which implies, presumably, that they were going). The question is, what is the level of prohibition - is participating in pop culture merely an unseemly waste of time and dulling of the senses and the intellect - or is it idolatry? Is it just silly - or is it evil? Is it valueless - or does it represent negative values? Does the integration of Israel into global culture - manifest in the production of a full program of reality shows in Hebrew - represent a success of Zionism, or a failure? Should we be pleased to have taken our place among the nations - or disappointed that we couldn't do better? Would Eliezer ben Yehuda, the reviver of the Hebrew language, be proud of what we are using it for, or ashamed? And is it even legitimate to attempt a moral judgment of culture? Isn't culture whatever the people create for themselves?

It seems that these are questions we've been asking for centuries. You might think that they would only be the concern of Jews living as a minority in the Diaspora - but it turns out that cultural influences doesn't stop at the border of the holy land - not in Roman times, not today.

Don't build Wiesenthal museum on disputed Jerusalem site

2009-02-05T21:29:54Z

By Rabbi Eric Yoffie
(originally published on JTA.org and Ten Minutes of Torah)

If one were intent on undermining Israel's claim to Jerusalem, there would be no better way to accomplish this goal than to build a Jewish museum atop a historic Muslim cemetery in the heart of the city.

Incredibly, the Simon Wiesenthal Center -- a Los Angeles-based organization that combats anti-Semitism and advocates for Jewish rights around the world -- has undertaken to do just that. It has begun construction of a Museum of Tolerance on the grounds of the Mamilla cemetery, located in the downtown area of western Jerusalem. Mamilla is an 800-year-old site that was an active Muslim graveyard until at least the 1930s.

The Wiesenthal Center is a worthy and admirable institution, but in this case it has lost its way. In a city that is sacred not only to Jews but to more than 2 billion Christians and Muslims, Israel's legitimacy as a sovereign power rests on its sensitivity to the religious concerns of its sister faiths. As critics have noted, if Muslims were uprooting Jewish graves in order to build an Islamic museum on the Mount of Olives, Jews in Israel and throughout the world would respond with outrage. Muslims can be expected to respond similarly to the Wiesenthal museum, and indeed have begun to do so.

No one claims that Wiesenthal set out to offend Muslim sensibilities. Awarded the site by the Municipality of Jerusalem, only later did Wiesenthal realize that the museum would be erected on a graveyard. Instead of agreeing to build elsewhere, however, its leaders chose to fight in Israel's Supreme Court for the right to continue construction. Last October they won their case, largely on technical grounds. The court noted that planning had been completed, a permit issued and construction had commenced. It also pointed to evidence, which was far from conclusive, that some Muslim authorities no longer saw the site as sacred.

Yet while winning the legal argument, Wiesenthal has lost the moral one. What is legally permissible may be ethically questionable and religiously offensive. Indeed, there is something perverse and ironic about building a monument to tolerance that will be a permanent source of tension in the region and that undermines the mutual respect and trust that tolerance requires. Furthermore, constructing the museum in Mamilla sets a dangerous precedent that will undermine Jewish efforts to preserve abandoned Jewish cemeteries and sacred sites in Eastern Europe and the Muslim world.

A large and growing number of responsible, mainstream Jewish voices have spoken out against the museum, including the Reform movement's Israel Religious Action Center. Dr. Rafi Greenberg, a prominent archaeologist at Tel Aviv University, has argued that Mamilla is one of the few surviving Islamic sites in western Jerusalem and therefore must be left intact.

Especially important has been the criticism of the former rector of the Hebrew University, Professor Yehoshua Ben-Arieh, who is perhaps Israel's most prominent expert on the geographical history of Jerusalem. Ben-Arieh has cast doubt on the claim that Muslim authorities permitted construction on the grounds of the graveyard in the past, and has asserted that building the museum will cause damage to Jewish-Muslim relations that will last for generations.

It is true that radical Islamic voices, within and outside of Israel, have attacked the museum, and not a few of these voices are motivated by hostility to Jews and the Jewish state. Sadly, Wiesenthal spokespeople have attempted to portray all criticism of the museum as the rantings of Israel bashers and left-wing fanatics. They have gone as far as to suggest that those who attack the museum are serving non-Zionist ends and delegitimizing the Jewish state.

Such claims, however, are absurd.

The cries of Islamic fanatics cannot discredit critics of the museum any more than the appearance of black radicals could discredit the drive for black equality in America. What is important here is what Israel and the Jewish people do to promote human dignity and true tolerance, and understanding the religious concerns of our non-Jewish neighbors is the essence of enlightened Zionism. It strengthens rather than weakens Israel's cause.

This is an uncertain time in the Middle East. The war in Gaza, waged by Israel to defend its citizens in the South, has unsettled the area. The Obama administration is considering what role it will play in the Arab-Israeli conflict. The last thing that Israel needs now is a religious crisis that can easily be avoided.

Let's admit the simple truth: There is something profoundly disturbing about the idea of putting a Jewish Museum of Tolerance on a plot of land where Muslims have been burying their dead for most of the last 800 years.

I have great respect for the Simon Wiesenthal Center, and I would like to see its museum built -- somewhere else in Jerusalem.

The Lubovicher and the Shiite discuss Gaza

2009-02-05T16:51:36Z

By William Berkson
One of the fascinations of the Internet is the opportunity to talk with people having hugely different viewpoints, from all over the world.

On the type design forum I frequent, I participated in a discussion of the recent Gaza battle.

Included in the discussion were a Lubovicher in Brooklyn, an Israeli in Los Angeles, a Shiite in Basra, and Sunnis in New York and Japan, an Englishman and a Persian in Canada and a Christian in Australia. They design Hebrew, Arabic and latin language fonts.

One thread was started by the Australian, who noted celebrities in London protesting the Gaza incursion. The other was started by the Sunni in New York, who asked for prayers for his colleague Arabic script designer in Gaza, who was in the war zone--he survived, but ended up losing a cousin and two of the cousin's sons from an Israeli projectile.

On one thread I added my prayers for the safety of the designer, and on the other I argued that peace will not come unless the voices of reason and compassion overcome extremists on both sides.

The ensuing discussion was not encouraging. The Lubovicher argued that "Mercy means to destroy [Hamas], even if the so-called innocent are destroyed as well." That was just the beginning. He went on to quote the end of Psalm 137, "Happy who seizes and smashes your infants against the rock." And he added his interpretation that "If that baby murders later in life, happy is the one who smashes him or her early on." He went on to appeal to the principle that you should kill a pursuer, a 'rodef' before he can kill another, to refer for justification also to the seven nations of Canaan that were condemned to destruction in the Torah and Almalekites.

I argued that this was a complete distortion of Talmudic law, which no competent scholar would accept, and dangerously close to the reasoning of the assassin of Rabin. The Lubovicher was unmoved.

Meanwhile, I had said that I rejected the settlements and Sharon, but I didn't see any criticism of the Arab fanatics on the part of the Arab participants. The Shiite responded with propaganda cartoons from the Arab press against Israel, and also eventually linked to "White Power" sites with long Holocaust denial tirades.

The Sunni in New York expressed a wish that Jews and Arabs live peacefully side by side in the middle east, but also vehemently rejected any Jewish state. He and all the Arab participants regarded the Jews as having stolen Arab land and acquired it by bloodthirsty aggression.

I argued against this, trying to be as balanced and accurate as I could, but to no avail. Interestingly, the Persian who came on the thread told the Arabs that they needed to get over the fact that the Israelis won their state, and stop playing the victim. The Arabs vehemently attacked this.

On Obama's first day, in the morning a Protestant minister at the early prayer service had told a striking Cherokee story.

Here it is, copied from the internet:

An old Grandfather said to his grandson, who came to him with anger at a friend who had done him an injustice, "Let me tell you a story.

I too, at times, have felt a great hate for those that have taken so much, with no sorrow for what they do.

But hate wears you down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have struggled with these feelings many times." He continued, "It is as if there are two wolves inside me. One is good and does no harm. He lives in harmony with all around him, and does not take offense when no offense was intended. He will only fight when it is right to do so, and in the right way.

But the other wolf, ah! He is full of anger. The littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He cannot think because his anger and hate are so great. It is helpless anger, for his anger will change nothing.

"Sometimes, it is hard to live with these two wolves inside me, for both of them try to dominate my spirit."

The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes and asked, Which one wins, Grandfather?"

The Grandfather smiled and quietly said, "The one I feed."

I said that this was the spirit needed to solve the Palestinian-Arab dispute. The Arab in New York also loved the story. But the lesson he took from it was that fighting the "right way" meant destroying the Jewish state.

So after this discussion, I see that there is white-hot hatred and demonization of Israel throughout the Arab world. And the rest of the world is reluctant to condemn it. And there are also Jewish extremists, with rabid rhetoric. This is a grave problem.

2 Must-Read Articles on the Cynical Misuse of the Holocaust as a New Weapon in the Arsenal of Anti-Semites

2009-02-04T20:21:33Z

By Paul Kipnes
(First posted on Or Am I?)
Israeli Avram Burg recently raised difficult questions as to whether the Holocaust has become ingrained as a dangerous lens through which Israeli leaders view the world. He suggests that the Holocaust skews their view of reality and leads to a "they are all out to get us" mentality. One may agree with or take issue with Burg's argument, even as one praises the fact that a democratic society allows such critique from within.

Sadly, the Holocaust is being used increasingly in another way, as a "weapon against Jews and the Jewish state." This is even more dangerous. Two articles, which came to my attention through the Daily Alert prepared by Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs, illuminate this darkness:

Using the Holocaust to Attack the Jews - Walter Reich (Washington Post)

The Holocaust is being increasingly used as a weapon against the Jews and the Jewish state. As some people who don't like Jews have found, it's worth acknowledging the Holocaust if you can then turn it into a cudgel against the Jews. According to this crowd, the Jews today have become Nazis. The Jewish state is now supposedly carrying out a Holocaust against the Palestinians.
People of good will around the world are naturally shocked by the tragic and appalling deaths of Palestinian civilians, including those killed in the recent war in Gaza. But the massive and unceasing eruptions of outrage against the Jewish state - in a world in which other countries and groups have engaged in immensely more destructive and immoral behavior while provoking barely any outrage - can only be explained in a few ways.
One is that attacking Israel has become a means of attacking Israel's ally, the U.S. Another is that over-the-top attacks on Israel, particularly those invoking Holocaust language, have become a means of once again attacking the Jews.

The writer, a professor of international affairs at George Washington University, is a former director of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum.

Diminishing the Holocaust - Irwin Cotler (Montreal Gazette)

The lessons of the Holocaust risk losing their value if the tragedy of the Holocaust is invoked to fit every case of moral outrage. No recent event makes this more clear than the inflammatory misuse of Holocaust comparisons to describe the conflict in Gaza, in a dual demonizing indictment.

On the one hand, Jews are blamed for perpetrating a Holocaust on the Palestinians, as in the appalling statement of Norwegian diplomat Trine Lilleng that "The grandchildren of Holocaust survivors from World War II are doing to the Palestinians exactly what was done to them by Nazi Germany;" and on the other hand, crowds are incited to another Holocaust against the Jews, as in the chants of protesters who scream "Hamas! Hamas! Jews to the gas!"
Consider the simultaneous humanitarian crises in the world that were largely ignored during the war in Gaza. Darfur continued to be beset by genocide. Mass rape was being used as a weapon of war in the Congo. In Zimbabwe, a disastrous cholera epidemic was afflicting tens of thousands. Anarchy reigned in Somalia; systemic repression endured in North Korea, and political prisoners were being executed in Iran.
Meanwhile, Israel unilaterally halted its fighting in the middle of the day to allow humanitarian supplies to flow to Palestinians, and it warned civilians - by dropping leaflets and by phone - when attacks in their vicinity were coming.
The comparison between Israel's action against Hamas - a terrorist group sworn to destroy Israel - and the Nazi Holocaust is as false as it is obscene. I say this not as a proponent of Israel, but as a voice for Holocaust remembrance.

The writer is a member of the Canadian Parliament and a former justice minister.

Galilee Diary: Hard Choices

2009-02-03T15:43:54Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

A scheme is not a vision. -Leonard Cohen, "Isaac"

Now that the latest war seems to have ended, we can get back to where we left off in the election campaign (the cynics, of course, argue that the war was actually just a phase of the campaign). The posters all show portraits of scowling candidates, with slogans like "not a buddy - a leader!" (You find yourself looking to see if the small print is an endorsement by Vladimir - or Benito. But it's not). No smiles in this campaign.

Last night we went to a local parlor meeting for one of the smaller parties - not a fringe or single-issue party like senior citizens or pot-legalization - but one with a broad social vision. The young woman who spoke was extremely impressive - serious, well-spoken, convincing - and she is only a local volunteer; many of us know the leaders of the party to be similarly impressive intellectuals and leaders of social change. The obvious concern, that several people expressed, was the prospect of "wasting" a vote on a small party. If a couple of the larger parties together get close to 50% of the vote and form an alliance, then all they'll need is a few more seats to form a majority coalition.

Theoretically any small party could be the keystone. This is of course the "blackmail" power of single-issue parties: "We'll join and give you a majority on all major issues if you give in to us on our one demand (e.g., money for yeshivot, or legalizing pot, etc.)." So if a small party is lucky, and the numbers are right, it can have disproportionate influence on the operation of the government. On the other hand, if its demands are too unreasonable, or there are other small parties bidding against it, or it is too small, it can find itself out in the cold: a tiny parliamentary faction stuck in the opposition with no leverage to achieve its goals and not much interested or skilled in anything else. We've seen this scenario many times in the past 60 years. And if the party is too small, then it won't get enough votes to get any seats in the Knesset, and those who voted for it certainly will have thrown away their votes. Or worse - just as voters for Nader may have helped elect George W. Bush, so a vote for a small party is one vote not cast in the contest among the three major parties - one of which, in the end, will provide the prime minister.

Thus many people argue that one should grit one's teeth and vote for the one of the major parties that is the least objectionable, so that at least one's vote is directly helping to determine the balance of power. The trouble is that the major parties themselves are largely coalitions of disparate ideological and interest groups, and if you're cynical or at least unenthusiastic about their respective leaders, it is very easy to look at the choices and simply walk away (as 40% of the electorate did last time); indeed, one participant in the meeting last night, a recently discharged soldier, said, in obvious frustration, that his inclination was not to vote, as the big parties all turn him off and the little ones seem pointless. It was easy to feel his pain.

I've tentatively come to the conclusion that if there is a party that really represents a coherent vision that mostly speaks for me, and that is fielding candidates who seem to be the kind of leaders I would be proud to have representing me and running my country, then I should vote for it even if it may well end up in the opposition. Everyone is busy calculating, and trying to predict the next moves and likely combinations, and figuring out what deals can be made. That is natural and OK - it is politics in the real world. But as we've just seen in another election elsewhere, maybe there needs to be some place for vision, for saying out loud: "This is what we really want - not the least of all evils, not what we can get under the circumstances - but what we really believe in." When you keep settling for mediocrity, you get mediocrity. If we want to raise the level of discourse, we have to look up.

A Day in the Life: Jerusalem Revisited

2009-01-29T11:30:00Z

By JanetheWriter
On any given day, if you'd ask me what I was doing precisely five years earlier, I'd probably look at you as though you had two heads. The same is not true for this particular day.

Five years ago today, having arrived in Jerusalem the night before, I was spending my first full day in the center of the Jewish world as a participant in a Union for Reform Judaism mission being led by Rabbis Lenny Thal and Elliott Kleinman. And, because I kept a detailed travel journal throughout that amazing and all-too-short journey, even today -- exactly five years later -- I still can recall the tiniest details of that oh-so emotional day, January 29, 2004:

David Citadel Hotel
Jerusalem, Israel

How to begin to record the events of this unforgettable Jerusalem Day? It began well enough with delicious breakfast of salads, fruit, olives and cheese... followed by remarks from Anat Hoffman, executive director of the Israel Religious Action Center. She described her activities of the last several weeks to help ensure social justice for all of Israel's citizens, including Israeli Arabs. She also talked about her work with Women of the Wall and displayed a beautiful tallit, which is available for sale to support their efforts. As we gathered in the hotel lobby for the short walk to Beit Shmuel, sirens were audible--quite close--everywhere and then when I saw police atop running horses, my heart lurched. Ezra, our guide, and Elliott told us that a bus had exploded because of a suicide bomber and that nine people were dead and many others injured. Ezra also said that, difficult as it might be, there was nothing we could do and therefore, we needed to go on with our plans. (As everyone reached for cell phones, we were cautioned that the local time in New York was 2 a.m. and so most of us opted to wait until a more reasonable hour to call home.) And so we met with the Netzer kids and prayed together with them in a beautiful, glass enclosed room overlooking the Old City.

After services, we met with Uri Regev (head of the World Union for Progressive Judaism) and then left for the Old City. There we entered through Zion Gate, walked around and ate lunch, as well as did a little shopping. Over falafel, I called home (6 a.m. in New York) to report the morning's events before anyone turned on the television. It was a teary call and I was glad to have Josh Lief and Josh Goldstein, who were supportive and comforting, sitting at the table with me. During a free moment after lunch, Elliott whisked me away to the spot where the four quarters of the Old City converge, a place he said he loves to take first-timers and others who may not have ever seen it. It was amazing to experience the distinctions... the sukkah frames on the balconies of the Jewish quarter, the tight, closed look of the Armenian quarter, the church cross rising from the Christian quarter and the smell of roasting meat wafting from within the Muslim/Arab quarter. After lunch it was off to the Kotel, where I deposited everyone's prayers, distributed tzedakah and left my own note for peace. I also spied through the mechitzah over to the men's side and held my camera overhead to capture a shot. Before our approach to the wall, Ezra asked me to share the reading from Larry Hoffman's book, which I did, and we also took a group picture.

After the wall, we viewed the exhibits in the Davidson Hall and then took a look at Robinson's Arch, which you just have to imagine, because there's really no arch there. Upon returning to the bus, Lenny announced that although Ezra was doing a great job keeping us updated on the news, he (Lenny) wanted to make sure that we all caught the headline in today's Ha'aretz that "It's Jane's Birthday!" Then, everyone sang Happy Birthday - in Hebrew!

We then returned to Beit Shmuel, where we heard from Iri Kassel (head of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism and Paula Edestein. Following their presentations, Elliott asked me about plans for dinner and when I said I didn't yet have any, he said he'd take me out.

Then, when no one else was going shopping, Ezra and I set out for Ben Yehuda Street. But, we ran into Josh Lief, who was going to meet a friend there for dinner and so offered to take me shopping. I was a consumer maniac and in about an hour purchased gifts for all my mah jongg buddies, the people at work, a beautiful hanukiah for Ma and several other gifts. I also managed to have a delicious fruit juice shake on the recommendation of Josh.

On the way there, we passed a Magen David Adom truck and only later did it occur to me that they were possibly collecting blood for the injured victims of the terror attack. One other incident to report... while walking through the pedestrian mall, we passed a crowded bus stop at about 5:15 or 5:30. As we walked by, a bus (also crowded) pulled up and Josh said to me, "That's the number 18; that's the one they usually blow up." For just a few seconds I was scared... but we kept walking and, thankfully, nothing happened. When he was ready to meet his friend, Josh put me in a cab and 10 shekels later, I was back at the hotel.

A quick change of clothes and Elliott and I headed out for dinner to Darna, a great Moroccan restaurant, where we had boned Cornish hen over vermicelli seasoned with sugar and cinnamon, as well as yummy appetizers and mint spiced tea for dessert. As we were leaving the restaurant, Elliott stopped to listen to a radio where the names of the morning's dead were being announced. Done not only out of respect, Israelis come to a standstill for this reading to ensure that they did not know any of those now gone. Several times on the walk back to the hotel, we too stopped to watch news reports of the morning's events.

Rabbi Ron Kronish, director of the Interreligious Coordinating Council in Israel spoke to the group after dinner, after which a small group accompanied Elliott on his nightly stinky cigar walk. On this night we visited a supermarket, where we purchased wine for tomorrow night's home hospitality and the Great Synagogue, where a wedding reception was in full swing. On the walk back, Elliott quietly pointed out to me the street where the bomb had exploded, marked by a lone police car, its silent, swirling blue light the sole reminder of the morning's events.

May those 11 souls rest in eternal peace and may their deaths be not in vain.

Today, on the fifth anniversary of their deaths, I remember each of them:
• Avraham (Albert) Balhasan, 28, of Jerusalem
• Rose Boneh, 39, of Jerusalem
• Hava Hannah (Anya) Bonder, 38, of Jerusalem
• Anat Darom, 23, of Netanya
• Viorel Octavian Florescu, 42, of Jerusalem
• Natalia Gamril, 53, of Jerusalem
• Yechezkel Isser Goldberg, 41, of Betar Illit
• Baruch (Roman) Hondiashvili, 38, of Jerusalem
• Dana Itach, 24, of Jerusalem
• Mehbere Kifile, 35, of Ethiopia
• Eli Zfira, 48, of Jerusalem

Galilee Diary: Reality

2009-01-28T04:00:00Z

by Marc Rosenstein
(Originally published in Galilee Diary and Ten Minutes of Torah)

Altneuland = Oldnewland: Title of novel published in 1902 by Theodore Herzl, envisioning the Jewish state as a progressive, secular, German-speaking utopia.
Tel Aviv: The title of the Hebrew translation of Altneuland; Tel = mound of ancient ruins; Aviv = springtime.

We are producing a one-day seminar for 400 10th graders at the Reali High School in Haifa next week, and so I had to meet with the teachers the other day to go over the plans. The kids will be traveling around the Galilee visiting sites and personalities relevant to various value dilemmas facing Israeli society. It was the first time I'd been there in 25 years. The Reali (pronounced "ray-ah-li") has been for nearly a century one of the elite high schools in the country; indeed the last time I was there it was in the context of my Ph.D. research on Israeli education in the pre-state period. I had gone there to examine the archives, but alas, the principal, who was very welcoming, explained to me that some years ago they had had a very efficient buildings-and-grounds director who saw no reason to be storing boxes of musty old papers - so a historical treasure was sent to the landfill.

In a way, the story of the Reali is the story of Israeli culture. At the beginning of the 20th century, when stirrings of renewed Jewish life in Eretz Yisrael were attracting the attention of European Jews, a German Jewish philanthropic fund came up with a plan to upgrade education in the Yishuv (the term for the pre-state Jewish community in Israel). They sought to establish modern schools and teacher seminaries to replace yeshivah education, in order to modernize what was then a backwater in the Ottoman empire. The highlight of this plan was to establish a school of technology and engineering, whose graduates would build the new state. This would require two institutions - a college, and a feeder school, preparing students in the disciplines of math and science (known in German - and later in Hebrew - as the "realistic" subjects, as opposed to the humanities; to today's youth, of course "reality" [also in Hebrew] refers to a form of cheap entertainment for the masses). The feeder became the Reali School. The college became the Technion. But along the way a few interesting things happened:

In 1913, the Reali School was set to open, but it became clear that the founders intended that German would be the language of instruction - how else could we prepare engineers and scientists and architects to compete in the world economy? Indeed how could we prepare them at all if not in the classic language of science and technology? (As an undergraduate biochemistry major in the US in the 1960s, German was still the foreign language of choice). But the "new Jews" of the Yishuv were having none of it, and a strident public debate - and a boycott - ultimately led to Hebrew being set as the language of instruction. That meant that the first challenge facing the educators was to find and create words for concepts that had never been expressed in Hebrew before (e.g., carbon dioxide; acid; momentum; dicotyledon...).

In the same year, a young educator was brought over to be headmaster of the Reali School. Jacob Biram had recently been ordained as a Reform rabbi. However, no sooner had he gotten settled than the World War broke out, and as a loyal citizen he returned to Germany to serve his obligation in the German army. After the war he came back to Israel where he became one of the dominant personalities in Israeli education for decades. The Reali School was a mainstay of the new Israeli secular culture - but Dr. Biram insisted that that culture had to be permeated by traditional texts and values. The Reali School under his leadership was distinctively more "Jewish" in climate than other parallel institutions. There is a story that he once met a teacher eating a falafel on the street; when the teacher was summarily fired the next day, it was never known if the firing was because he was eating in the street - or because he wasn't wearing a hat; European civility and Jewish tradition were both part of Dr. Biram's heritage. Times have changed.

With or without such institutional traditions, I find many teachers today in Israel, like the ones I met the other day, see a central part of their mission - and a huge challenge - in connecting or reconnecting the children of post-modern global Israel with the vision of pioneers like Dr. Biram.

Update from Haifa: To the people of America and Barack Obama, we salute you!

2009-01-21T22:04:57Z

The Union has been receiving regular updates from Rabbi Edgar Nof of Or Hadash, a progressive congregation in Haifa, Israel. Here is a recent email:

Dear Friends,

Shalom! I want to write tonight to all of our friends in America and around the world, to commemorate the inauguration of Barack Obama, the 44th president of the United States, and the first African American president, as a very special event. I hope that Obama's administration will bring about positive change, embrace peace and security, and also promote economic stability to the world. Now it is our turn to be in support of you, and we have done so by raising the American flag in our preschools to show our love and solidarity. We all at Or Hadash wish Barack Obama and the American people good luck on this very historical day and in the coming four years. Mazal Tov!

I also want to say that we in Israel are very relieved to report that the war in Gaza has come to a close after three long weeks. Despite us being afraid that Hamas will take this opportunity and time to build up their arsenal of weapons, we are glad that we can finally rest easy that our sons, friends, and relatives are longer in immediate danger, on all sides of the border. Tonight we are praying that the ceasefire will last, and that peace will prevail. Those of us who are optimistic are still hoping for a better and more hope-filled future for the state of Israel and the Jewish and Palestinian peoples.

Personally, I hope that the Palestinian leadership will realize that this can not be done by attacking Israel with rockets, but by once again by being open to taking real steps towards peace, while allowing the people of Israel to return to some degree of normalcy in our lives. Still we are very thankful to have had the support and constant outpouring of love from our Jewish friends abroad, especially in America, who have remained so loyal to Israel throughout the duration of the war.

In Friendship,

Edgar

Activism for Progressive Judaism: Can We Do Better?

2009-01-21T17:52:22Z

by Russell Cohen
(Originally published on Russell Cohen's blog Cafe Birkenreis)
During the latter half of 2008, the WUPJ lent its support to two online petitions (e-petitions) on behalf of member unions. In both cases, the response from progressive Jews worldwide was less than rousing

In the first case, the IMPJ (Israel) attempted to gather signatures in support of the effort to achieve official recognition and a state salary for Rabbi Miri Gold, of Kibbutz Gezer in Israel. This is a potentially ground-breaking case, as a positive outcome would set the precedent for official recognition of progressive rabbis across Israel, and eventually lead to improved status for progressive Judaism as a whole.

In the second, the SAUPJ (South Africa) is attempting to gain access to the King David Jewish day schools network for Netzer, the Reform youth movement. The King David schools should be a resource for the entire SA Jewish community, but have instead been hijacked by the Orthodox majority there.

Progressive Judaism claims to be numerically the largest stream within Judaism worldwide. Progressive Jews are presumably largely computer literate, and have in the past overwhelmingly supported similar initiatives on behalf of anything from Climate Change action to the genocide in Darfur. Despite these factors, however, only 3,500 signatures had been gathered by end-November 2008 for the IMPJ e-petition (against a target of at least 10,000). In the case of the SAUPJ initiative, only 538 signatures (against a target of 500) have been received to date. In order to be truly effective, the first needs to be supported by tens, if not hundreds of thousand of signatories, while the second would have carried far more weight if endorsed by thousands rather than hundreds.

These results are disappointing, to say the least; perhaps even shockingly so. What went wrong with these two initiatives, and how can we ensure that future efforts receive the support they deserve from progressive Jews worldwide? To my mind, there are two factors to be addressed:

Attitude

I think we're seeing an example of the barber's children going with hair uncut. Progressive Jews have simply adopted so many causes, that there's no drive or energy left for causes closer to home. Charity doesn't have to begin at home, but it should also not be neglected.

Not neglecting our own issues is doubly important in the case of those relating to Israel. I believe that progressive Judaism will always be taken less than seriously, will always find itself in a defensive posture, until it receives official recognition and equality in the Jewish State.

We need to take the approach that "an injury to one is an injury to all", and simply not accept second-class citizenship or a lesser status for progressive Judaism anywhere in the world, but particularly in Israel.

Approach

To ensure an effective response to issues such as the two above, the initiative still needs to begin with a union (e.g. IMPJ, SAUPJ or URJ), but should then be adopted and coordinated by the WUPJ.

The issue and call to action (e.g. an e-petition) should be communicated to all progressive Jews worldwide, either by the WUPJ, the union, the congregation, or a combination of all three. The issue (including links to the appropriate online petition, donation page, etc.) should also be communicated through the official websites, blogs and e-newsletters of all these bodies. Members should also be encouraged to forward the material to their own "e-brigades" (we all have them).

Issues relating to privacy policies, etc., should be addressed by all progressive unions worldwide before the next such initiative, to ensure that no union is unable to support an initiative due to privacy or related concerns.

Such a combined "bottom-up" and "top-down" approach should prove more effective in both reaching and motivating the widest possible audience when these initiatives are undertaken in future.

In conclusion, progressive Judaism is facing many challenges, opportunities and threats worldwide. Where armchair activist tools such as electronic or online petitions can help us to meet those challenges, the WUPJ and all its member unions and congregations should present a united front and a coordinated approach.

Russell Cohen is a progressive Jew from Johannesburg, South Africa who writes and blogs under the pen name "Maskil".

RJ.org editor's note: The Union has solicited support for the cause of Rabbi Miri Gold in its Weekly Briefing, and we encourage you to visit the IRAC website to sign the petition.

5 Must-Read Articles as Israel Declares Cease-Fire

2009-01-20T04:48:55Z

by Rabbi Paul Kipnes
(Originally published on Or Am I?)
What does this all mean? Here are 5 Must-Read articles that offer perspective on what has happened and is happening:

1. Gaza and Hamas: Was it about Education or Eradication? The focus for Israel and Barack Obama's team should be on creating a clear choice for Hamas for the world to see: Are you about destroying Israel or building Gaza? As Thomas Friedman writes:

I was one of the few people who argued back in 2006 that Israel actually won the war in Lebanon started by Hezbollah. You need to study that war and its aftermath to understand Gaza and how it is part of a new strategic ballgame in the Arab-Israel arena, which will demand of the Obama team a new approach.

2. The Reform Movement's Rabbi David Forman asks (and answers) 20 Questions:

15: Why is the world demonstrating against Israel, displaying pictures of Osama bin Laden's comrades-in-arms, Hassan Nasrallah and Khaled Mashaal, as national heroes, instead of holding mass protests against terrorists (Islamic extremists) who stage their vicious attacks upon innocents in Mumbai, Bali, London, Madrid, Jordan, Egypt, the Twin Towers, and Israel - to mention only a few? David answers: Good point.

18: Thanks a lot, as if I didn't know. Could it be that I sense that no matter how justified our war is with Hamas, that we are adopting the tactics of our enemy, or is there no choice but to fight Hamas according to its ground rules, thereby rationalizing away some of our objectively horrid behavior and, in the process, suspending all Jewish moral concerns, reducing us to a nation like any other nation? David answers: All the above.

3. Two Israeli Leftists, A.B. Yehoshua and Gideon Levy, face off on the Moral Implications of the Gaza war. A.B. Yehoshua writes:

There is something absurd in the comparison you draw about the number of those killed. When you ask how it can be that they killed three of our children and we cause the killing of a hundred and fifty, the inference one can draw is that if they were to kill a hundred of our children (for example, by the Qassam rockets that struck schools and kindergartens in Israel that happened to be empty), we would be justified in also killing a hundred of their children.

In other words, it is not the killing itself that troubles you but the number. On the face of it, one could answer you cynically by saying that when there will be two hundred million Jews in the Middle East it will be permissible to think in moral terms about comparing the number of victims on each side. But that is, of course, a debased argument. After all, you, Gideon, who live among the people, know very well that we are not bent on killing Palestinian children to avenge the killing of our children. All we are trying to do is get their leaders to stop this senseless and wicked aggression, and it is only because of the tragic and deliberate mingling between Hamas fighters and the civilian population that children, too, are unfortunately being killed. The fact is that since the disengagement, Hamas has fired only at civilians. Even in this war, to my astonishment, I see that they are not aiming at the army concentrations along the border but time and again at civilian communities.

Levy responds.

4. Title aside, the New York Times offers a surprisingly balanced review of the challenges of determining ethics in Urban Warfare in Weighing Crimes and Ethics in the Fog of Urban Warfare. They analyze the actions of Israel and Hamas. Here's one taste, a frontal critique on Hamas, not usual for the New York Times:

The other key legal principle is discrimination: has a military struggled hard enough to hit only military targets and combatants, while trying to avoid purely civilian targets and noncombatants?

Deciding requires an investigation into battlefield circumstances that cannot be carried out while the fighting rages, and such judgments are especially difficult in urban guerrilla warfare, when fighters like Hamas live among the civilian population and take shelter there. While Israel is the focus of most criticism, legal experts agree that Hamas, a radical Islamic group classified by the United States and Europe as terrorist, violates international law.

Shooting rockets out of Gaza aimed at Israeli cities and civilians is an obvious violation of the principle of discrimination and fits the classic definition of terrorism. Hamas fighters are also putting civilians at undue risk by storing weapons among them, including in mosques, schools and allegedly hospitals, too, making them potential military targets. While urban and guerrilla warfare is not illegal, by fighting in the midst of civilians, often in civilian clothing, Hamas may also bring risk to noncombatants.

5. Of course, always check Jack's War in Gaza Update (Ceasefire Edition) and the Muqata's Israel @ War Special Edition.

Family visits one another

2009-01-15T20:35:08Z

by Yigal Rechtman
Brookyn Heights Synagogue, NY
This year, like many others before it, our family traveled to Israel. This time we had a double duty of being tourists (more on that later) and enjoying the simcha of my sister's marriage to her fiancée Moshe. Like a true Israeli event, west and east were joined in this wedding: Moshe's family's from Tripoli, Libya and ours is of run-of-the-mill Polish and Russian descent. The wedding was lovely in every manner although it was rather small by Israeli standards (300 people).

Our trip also included pre-arranged guided tours. We were joined by close friends from Westchester with children of roughly the same ages as ours and we had a few 1- to 3- days tours arranged, interlaced with downtime, vacation time, family visits and do-it-yourself walking around. We felt that this was a good mix of vacation and educational tour in Israel, a country that is rich with historical, geological and cultural features that are too numerous to describe here.

Our visit lasted for all of Chanukah and into the first few days of 2009. Of course, while we were in Israel the military offensive in Gaza started. The sentiments about the operation were of great internal support by Israelis, of many walks of lives (even Israeli Arabs we talked with were not vehemently opposed to it, at least not expressly). The reason for the support is that most Israelis felt that the action was a last resort and was unavoidable. Most people we discussed this war with used the term "shooting and crying", which is an idiom used to indicate that as an offensive army, soldiers and generals alike feel the pain of the people who are being hurt, maimed and killed by their action, even if those people are self-described 'haters' of the Jewish state.

To give the war a bit of a background: Israel pulled out of Gaza completely in 2005. When the pullout occurred, Israel left behind empty settlements that had been working farms. Passageways to Israel from Gaza were established for movements of goods and people (mostly Gazans who work in Israel) and Israel supported the new Palestinian administration with setting up infrastructure, political administration offices and agricultural technology. A period of relative prosperity and calm followed, punctured mostly by closures of the passageway because of security threats from suicide bombers who made their way from Gaza to Israel, causing harm to Israeli civilians.

In 2007 the citizens of Gaza elected Hamas as its prime controlling party. Hamas, which is defined as a terrorist organization by Europe and the U.S., has a declared mission to wipe out Israel and hurt Jews wherever they are. Hamas operatives caused daily missiles to land on various towns in Israel, most noticeably the town of Sderot, which is close to the Gaza strip. The irony about these missiles, known as Qasam missiles, is that they are made of aluminum piping that Israel provided to the Palestinian administration in a good-faith attempt to help enhance its agricultural capacity.

As the missile landings increased in range and quantity, Israelis felt attacked, and the sentiment grew that a cessation of these missiles must happen, whether by negotiation or military action. Diplomatic relations between Israel and Hamas are nonexistent and are mostly conducted by third-party emissaries. A 'cease fire' was negotiated for six months that expired in December, 2008. The 'cease fire' did not stop Hamas from occasionally bombing Israeli citizens. Upon the expiration of the agreement Hamas increased its activity, landing 30 to 60 Qasam missiles every day on Israeli towns and hurting citizens.

The response in Israel, other than the military action that is still underway, is that this is a justified war. People we met felt to the most part a degree of pain for the Palestinian people who are caught in the crossfire and whose houses, schools, mosques and streets are used - by Hamas militants - as human shields against Israel. Israel, already familiar with the tactic as it was used by Hezbollah in Lebanon in 2006, has taken the position that although these human shields are citizens, that it will not compromise its military operation.

Another sentiment shared by most Israelis is that Hamas was elected by the Palestinians in a democratic election. This fact to some extent puts the blame of the escalation on the situation not just on Hamas but on the Palestinian themselves who were swayed by fundamentalist Islamists to vote for an organization that is not recognized by most countries -- which were up to that point supporting the newly formed Palestinian administration. Since the election of Hamas as a ruling party, most aid has stopped arriving in Gaza because support of terrorist organization is prohibited by the laws of the donor countries.

These ironies in the Hamas attack and the justification for the Israeli action did not escape most Israelis. Although there is a side of Israel that is very much self-blaming, the voices heard from that camp mostly spoke about the human suffering that occurred because of the military offensive, not the root-cause of the offensive. The good news from all of this is that Israelis, trained to live under siege by one hater or another, take on the tack of winning by not being affected. Most Israelis went about their daily lives as usual. We traveled to Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Eilat, and even touched upon Bee'r Sheva (where some Qasam missiles have fallen) and in all places life went on as usual.Lovers loved, children played, water flowed and food was served. Tel Aviv and Jerusalem especially were as vibrant as ever, teeming with domestic tourists (during the Chanukah holiday when children are off from school) and international travelers (we met quite a few families we know from the U.S., including BHS' own Yassky-Fortuna family). Our guided tours were uninterrupted and we went about our trip enjoying and touring East Jerusalem and the south with little notice of any action. While the military offensive was underway our source of information was mostly Israeli television and some international broadcasters such as the BBC and SKY networks (It was interesting to note that Israelis loath the one-sided attention provided by CNN and mostly avoid that media channel.) Although at the time of this writing the offensive is still ongoing, and stories arrive daily about the progress of the war, some facts are already missed by the press: Israel warns Palestinians via text messages and leaflets that a building is about to be bombed, in order to minimize civilian casualties. In addition, any wounded person who seeks medical care in Israel is considered at the border crossing by Israeli authorities; acute cases are taken to Israeli hospitals, including a recent would-be-bomber who was wounded when his own Qasam rocket blew upbefore the launch.

Israelis are also adept in helping one another in times of need. The war necessitated movement of families from Hamas-targeted towns into towns where Qasam missiles and the farther reaching GRAD missiles (Chinese made; Iran supplied; Egypt looked the other way as they were smuggled) cannot reach. The radio was full of ads for free websites where families can find a "hosting family" in safe areas, and where emotional trauma centers and call-centers can be found. Many radio stations allowed listeners to call in and send a dedicated song from or to people in the affected areas.

As for how we saw it all: we've already made some preliminary plans to be back in Israel as was originally scheduled (don't ask... my sister moved her wedding date by six months from the summer '09 to the winter of '08) in August. We will likely tour the north of Israel and likely also hire the services of a professional tour guide for some of the northern historical sites. The north would be most agreeable in the summer and we look forward to exploring some of the history that stems from that part of the country, such as Arbel fort and the second-century first synagogues and Jewish councils. Who knows - maybe a Jeep tour is in our stars, too? With that I would like to encourage us all to follow the news, pray for the well being of the Jewish state and continue to keep ourselves informed about the situation, in a balanced and non-inflammatory manner. Israelis need to know that their family thinks about them. One way to show your faith in the future of Israel is to visit the country, and when people ask you why you picked Israel as your next destination you can say: "We're family; and family visits one another. (Plus, the Mediterranean sea is gorgeous in the summer!)"

Update from Haifa: Jews, Christians, and Muslims Praying Together for Peace

2009-01-14T20:46:28Z

by Jessica Berman
Or Hadash Overseas Coordinator
On Monday January 12th, a positive step towards peace was made when Or Hadash together with the Catholic Focolare Movement organized an interfaith prayer service for peace with Jews, Christians, and Muslims. The service was held at Stella Maris, a well known Carmelite monestary in Haifa, and was considered by many to be a very important event. The service, a first of its kind to take place in Haifa, was especially eventful because it was both arranged and took place during a time of war, and focused on praying for peace through the songs and psalms of each culture. Among the clergy and organizers were Rabbi Dr. Edgar Nof of Or Hadash; Father Renato Rosso of the Carmel school in Haifa; Father Yousef Rizek, a Latin Parish priest of Shifa Amer; an Iman from the city of Furades, Israel; and Corres and Christina Chayat from the Focolore Church in Haifa.

The service was lead in English, Hebrew, and Arabic, and was reported on by three Haifa newspapers: Yediot Haifa, Maariv Haifa, and Kol Bo. Also in attendance was Or Hadash Temple Administrator, Ami Perelman; Or Hadash Vice President, Mirjam Jurmann; Temple Shalom of Newton, MA Director of Lifelong Jewish Learning, Julie Vanek; Active Or Hadash member and honorary interfaith liason, Earl Sugarman; and many other loyal Or Hadash members.

Towards the end of the service, Or Hadash was able to present the Focolare group with toys and books that were donated by Or Hadash sister congregations of American Reform Jews, for transport to the children of Gaza via the Focolare church group inside the strip. The service itself featured beautiful Arabic hymns, sung bv the Focolare choir, and ended with a candle lit song session outside the church at a statue of three angels that represent the patriarchs of the three religions. Here the clergy expressed their messages of hope for the future.

Everyone present agreed that the intermingling of the three groups was a much welcomed step in the right direction amidst the unrest currently occurring in the country. Through this, we felt a sense of hope and brotherhood, which proved that we are all human and that we are all connected. As Or Hadash board member Dr. Jesse Lachter said, "We hope that this will be the first of many similar events in the future". On Friday January 15th, we will also pray for Israeli soldiers (many of whom are members of Or Hadash) who are bravely fighting in the conflict. Additionally, we will also pray for a fast and and peaceful end to the difficult war that has affected us all so much

War is not the Answer, but Peace doesn't seem to work so well either

2009-01-13T15:41:14Z

by Rich Kirschen
Director of the Anita Saltz International Education Center
Jerusalem, Israel
I am not going to offer a strategic analysis as we have far more competent people to do this. But I wanted to write, touch base and at least give you a personal perspective of what is like living in Israel during this war (my second war in Israel and hopefully my last - but I suspect not).

On one level my family is fine. We are lucky because we live in Jerusalem. Amazing how quickly things change. Who could imagine saying this only a few years ago during the Second Intifada? On another level, how can one be fine during a war? Ayal our eight year old was in our bed the first night of the war and actually was in our bed the other night as well...everyone is effected and children sense what is going on around them on a much deeper level (than we give them credit for).

Even during a war life goes on; but of course it cannot be business as usual. Nothing feels the same nor should it feel the same. Even the wonderful aspects of life here feel different. The other night my wife and I went to a meeting at our son's school where we were getting ready for his siddur (prayer book) ceremony. The Reform movement had just put out an amazing siddur for his school. As we reviewed this prayer book, we were truly overwhelmed at how it reflected the values that so many of us were working to instill in our children. It was just one of those rare coordinated efforts that succeeded in reflecting ideals about spirituality, pluralism, equality, Jewish tradition and of course it was all in beautiful Hebrew (that my kids understand way better than I do). It was a remarkable moment sitting in a circle with all these Israeli parents in a cold school room in Jerusalem kvelling over this Reform Jewish prayer book. And then the woman next to me received a phone call and shot out of the room. Her husband had just been called up to go into Gaza. ...

A few nights ago friends came to stay with us because they live on Kibbutz Dvir which is in firing range not too far from Gaza. They only have 45 seconds to get into the bomb shelter when they hear the siren and they just needed a rest - because to live with this uncertainty - is exhausting. Of course their visit also allowed me to observe the moments that can only happen in Israel. Because one has only 45 seconds to get to the bomb shelter, our friend could not get herself to take a shower, so she has been walking around in sweats for the last two weeks But her daughter who is a 14 year old Israeli teenager has been very nicely dressed this whole time. When she asked her why she was dressed so nicely, her daughter replied "Ima, everyone I know is going to be at the bomb shelter...I need to look good." Welcome to life in Israel.

Finally for me the strangest aspect of "business as usual" is interacting with Palestinians in Jerusalem. I work at Beit Shmuel and most of the maintenance staff here are Arabs from East Jerusalem, or Palestinians. Nothing is more confusing than Palestinian identity in Jerusalem. Every morning I see the same guys and we say the same "Ahlann", "Boker Tov", "Good Morning", while down in Gaza our people are in a fight to the death. Maybe "Good Morning" is easier. I have come to learn there are layers of interaction here that seem to have their own rules. Israelis and Palestinians relate to each other very differently professionally, personally and finally nationally and yes the contradictions are intense.

No one wants this war, but no one wants missiles falling through their roof either. But on the other hand the pictures and stories from Gaza are horrible.

And now I will write something profoundly un-Israeli, betraying how poorly I have internalized the Israeli ethic. I am willing to admit I don't have a good answer. I just read Ha'aretz newspaper this Shabbat and agreed with every article. And they all advocated something else. This is an incredibly complex conflict.

I am still convinced that concerning our situation, we are acting differently than any other sovereign nation in the world, even though we make mistakes. And I am following the news every day and hoping we know what we are doing.

What is so frustrating is that we have seen that war is not the answer, but in this region peace doesn't seem to work so well either.

I do know that the protesters around the world are making me sick. They don't seem to want to help the Palestinian people as much as they simply want to hurt Israel... similar to Hamas.

I see the protests in Europe and they remind me of the story that Amos Oz told. When his father was living in Germany in the 1930's. Apparently there was graffiti all over Germany saying "Jews- go back to Palestine." Of course when Amos Oz was invited back to visit Germany in the 1990"s - to receive a prize in literature- he saw signs all over Germany that said "Jews- get out of Palestine". And so it goes...

Pray for peace, for our soldiers, for the innocent on both sides and for the State of Israel.

Israel on my Mind...Yet Again

2009-01-12T18:00:09Z

by JanetheWriter
On Friday, after I read Daphne Price's wonderful post on this blog about why she and her family are in Israel right now, I was prompted to comment thusly:

Good for you, Daphne! For so many of us, opportunities to visit Israel are too few and far between and I applaud you and your family for doing what you believe is the right thing at this difficult time.

My own first visit to Jerusalem in 2004 happened to coincide with a rush-hour bus bombing in Rehavia that killed 11 and injured scores more. Indeed, January 29, 2004 was a sad and scary day, but in true Israeli style, we carried on with our itinerary, which then included stopping at a streetside news stand in the evening to watch the names of the dead and wounded scroll by on the television. I could not have had a more Israeli slice-of-life experience.

I hope that you savor this visit, not only for yourselves and your children, but especially now, for all of us whose hearts are in the east.

Although, unlike Daphne and her family, I can't be there physically right now, like so many of us, my heart and mind are extraordinarily present in Israel. Here are three things that I'm doing to help me be there in spirit.

1. Listening to Galgalatz, a radio station operated by Israel Army Radio, which I found when a friend noted on Facebook that she was listening online. Not knowing what it was, I Googled it and next thing I knew, I was listening too. According to my fellow RJ.org blogger David A.M. Wilensky, "In Israel Galgalatz is on everywhere all the time! It is THE radio station, with, as you'll find, the most inexplicable playlists of all time." Indeed, although I don't understand the news at the top of each hour or much beyond a few words of what the DJs say, hearing their voices and the wonderful mix of music they select surrounds me with the sound and feel of Israel. If only schwarma and falafel were available over the internet...

2. Donating my Facebook status to QassamCount, which uses that space to publicize the number of rockets that hit Israel each day, as well as the total number of rockets and mortars Hamas has fired into the country since 2007. To my way of thinking, it's a much better use of the space than are updates about my comings and goings in the world. After all, in the overall scheme of things, who really cares what I'm doing at any particular moment in time?!

3. Corresponding via email with an Israeli, which came about as a direct result of #2 above. After I donated my Facebook status to QassamCount, at one point, I did change it back to something else. When I went to return the space to QassamCount, the updates didn't show up. After a day of waiting for them, I emailed technical support at qassamcount@gmail.com, beginning an exchange with Arik at QassamCount that went something like this:

Me: Earlier this week, I donated my status and it showed up on my FB page without a problem. I then changed my status but now want to once again donate it to the rocket count. I have clicked on the "Donate Status" button on the application, but my status never changes. Why is this? What can I do to fix it? Thank you.

Arik: You don't need to redonate your status - next time we run an update it will be changed to our latest update about Qassams. Thanks.

Me: Thanks, Arik, but my status still hasn't changed to the QassamCount.
In any event, if you have not already seen it, I thought you might be interested in this clip from Fox News yesterday.

Arik: Hi. What's your profile URL? I will check it out.
And thanks for the link! :)

Me: Thanks, Arik.
It's definitely still not updating... The profile URL is: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/home.php?ref=home.
Grateful for whatever you can tell me...

Me again: Arik, if you did something to my profile or status to make the QassamCount
show up, thanks! It appears to be working now. If not, I have no
explanation for the "fix."
Now, let's just hope the numbers go down and the whole application
becomes unnecessary. Thanks again.

Arik: We had a technical malfunction that affected you and others. This is why it was
suddenly fixed.
I join your hopes that our app won't be necessary soon...
Have a pleasant week.

Me: Thanks...shavua tov to you too.

Indeed, may QassamCount swiftly become a thing of the past and may we all donate our status to other, more peaceful Facebook applications.

From Jerusalem and Against the War

2009-01-09T16:44:50Z

by Louis Frankenthaler
In the interest of full disclosure: I live in Jerusalem, I am married. We have 2 young children, 6 & 9. I am a human rights worker, a PhD student (at Ben Gurion University) and I grew up in a Reform congregation in NJ. AND I am against the war. I am against the war from the first day and every day. (I am also against the Occupation, the settlements, and work to expose and stop Israeli human rights violations) Why? Not because I am some "radical leftist" or "self-hating-Jew" "or anti-Israel Israeli" which I am called when people want to delegitimize my opinion or avoid the complexity of the issue, but because I support democracy, universal principles of human rights and the rights of local people to their unique cultural expressions, including Jews of every variety, Palestinians, and others. So yes, believe me it is difficult being in the opposition here in Israel (I will not cite a list of difficulties, because they pale in comparison to the monumental suffering in Gaza and in the protracted suffering in southern Israel where, in both places, civilians are being targeted, killed and exploited.) My position, then, is that the war must end and that it is directly connected to the way in which Israel has been an occupier for more than 40 years, and that the argument that Gaza even after the 'disengagment' has remained under Israeli control, albeit without settlements and direct military force inside is critical to the context of the current war.

Similarly, it is impossible, illogical and a diservice to the discussion to separate the Gazan Palestinian and his/her situation from the West Bank Palestinian and his/her situation. The continued building of settlements, land appropriations, the barrier (remember that the struggle around the wall near Modi'in Illitis for land for Ultra-Orthodox housing in the settlement*) and direct military Occupation in the West Bank is directly connected to Gaza. Please do not stop reading now...(see a human rights report about abuse of Palestinian detainees by Palestinian authorites, written by a Palestinian HR organization), and this too is unavoidable, be it in internal "Jewish discussions" or discussions that involve Jews and Others, and Israelis and others as well as Jews outside of Israel with Israel.

Part of the complexity of the discussion, I imagine, for the Jewish community in the US is that there is a genuine tug, not of allegiance, as Reform Jews the first priority is the universal principle of human dignity and human worth... that is to say the difficulty is how to negotiate the real need to identify with the greater group to which one belongs while not becoming consumed by that group... So the debate about the war and the complexity of it which goes beyond who shot first, second, third and who will shoot last... Complexities are inherent in Jewish discourse, which is why what troubles me is that there is a tendency to conflate the Jewish voice with the Israeli voice, especially in times like this and to disregard and disengage from dissent.

I was asked by a reporter once, about what I hoped for after the Obama victory. I said I want a real friend of Israel, who will not be afraid to speak the truth and to push Israel in the direction it must go... I also then ask Jews in the world community to look at Israel as your 60 year old aunt or uncle, who is addicted to drugs. Yes you love Israel but love does not mean bringing another drug dose as a birthday present... it means telling your aunt or uncle to get treatment. Now. Please understand that I say this because I live here and want to continue living here even though I can leave at any time: Israel's addiction is the Occupation, all of it, every settlement, from the smallest outpost to Maaleh Adumim... Israel's recovery from its addiction may involve learning to live with left overs, maybe like Maaleh Adumim, and the victim of its addiction the Palestinians, may have to live with some of the loss, but that is for them to decide... the core issue now is ending the war and ending the Occupation only through this can we, can you in the Reform Jewish community, expect a democratic and pluralistic future.

*"The Modi'in Illit settlement was established in 1993 as an urban community intended to ease the housing shortage of ultra-Orthodox Jews from Bnai Brak and Jerusalem." From the 2005 human rights NGOs report.

Now More Than Ever, We Need Shabbat

2009-01-09T14:57:08Z

By JanetheWriter

War's raging in Gaza,
Israelis are dead,
Children are crying; they need to be fed.
Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
Who hallows us with mitzvot and commands us to kindle the lights of Shabbat.

May they illumine these difficult days,
May they guide us to brighter tomorrows.

Gone are jobs,
The Dow is down,
Who knows about the coming rebound?
Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
Creator of the fruit of the vine.

May its sweetness remind us of happier times,
May it point us toward the good days yet to be.

Corruption is rampant,
Scandals abound,
The world's moral compass is turned all around.
Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.

Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
Who brings forth bread from the earth.

May it sustain us today,
May it give us strength for the future.

Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.
Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.
Now more than ever, we need Shabbat.

Shabbat shalom.

Finding Happiness in Israel, Even (and Especially) Now

2009-01-08T20:45:27Z

by Daphne Price
Daphne Price is Rabbi David Saperstein's executive assistant.
(First posted at RACblog)
I love watching the sun rise (though most of my sunrises coincide with vacation). This morning's sun rise was over the Old City of Jerusalem. We arrived in Israel last evening, and my 18 month old is having the worst time adjusting. For 4 hours or so, my baby and I strolled the halls of our hotel until the sun came up.

Despite the war in Israel, we decided to travel all the way here to "vacation" for 12 days with our two small children. We gave it a lot of thought and consulted many of our friends and relatives. We even considered going to Disney instead. In the end, my husband and I decided this was the right choice to make. Why?

We love Israel. As our children grow, we want them to learn to love Israel. We want them to know Israeli culture and to learn her short and complicated history. We want them to understand Israel and Israelis - and all the good and bad that goes with it. (And let's face it: They're not going to get an accurate read of the country by watching the news from our living room back in Maryland.)

At 4 and a half years old, my oldest child has been here enough times that even she is familiar with our routines. She has friends and relatives she plays with. She knows that the zoo is in Jerusalem and the aquarium is in Eilat, and that her aunts and uncles live in Tel Aviv. She can name a half-dozen or so restaurants where we like to (love to!!!) eat - and she knows what she's going to order at each place. She knows where her favorite candy store is in Jerusalem. She knows the difference between a pita and a lafa, between tehina and hummus. And she knows that Israelis push and can be pushy.

The other day, she asked me if we were still going to Israel. When I asked her why we wouldn't, she said she heard there are bad people there. I sighed. I tried to explain to her that yes, there were bad people, but if we were going, we wouldn't be near where the bad things are happening. I'm not sure she was convinced, but at that moment I decided that unless the situation escalated, and the attacks were expanded further into Israel, we were definitely going (otherwise, Disney!).

I want her to see that her friends and relatives are still living their normal lives and that they still go to school and play (although granted, none of them live in the targeted areas). I want her to visit and eat and soak up the atmosphere. I don't ever want her to be afraid of visiting Israel. Yes, at this age, we'll shelter her as much as we can from the violence and the conflict - but we will take her to the store to buy toys for the children here who have to spend so much time hunkered down in their own shelters. Yes, we'll be more cautious over this next stretch of time. Yes, there will be places that we'll avoid on this trip. But the bottom line is that this is a happy place for us, and I want it to be happy place for her too. I want her to always look forward to visiting Israel.

Of course, we hope for an end to the war and to bloodshed. We hope for peace. We hope we can keep coming back to Israel.

As I spent the night roaming the halls, these thoughts and more went through my mind.

My baby and I ended our night by feasting at breakfast overlooking the Old City, watching the sun rise. And I thought, in so many ways: Yes, this is my happy place.

Update from Or Hadash in Haifa

2009-01-08T15:42:59Z

The Union has been receiving regular updates from Rabbi Edgar Nof of Or Hadash, a progressive congregation in Haifa, Israel. Here is today's update:

Dear friends,

Just two days ago I wrote you about the death of Yousef Maudi, the 1st Israeli soldier from Haifa to die in the war against Hamas in Gaza. I want to now commend board member Dr. Jesse Lachter, who attended Yousef's funeral, which took place outside of the city in a Druze village on behalf of the Or Hadash community. We hope that the rest of our soldiers fighting in Gaza will stay safe throughout the duration of the war.

On a different note, as you may already know, the North woke up this morning to find that for the first time during this war, 5 rockets were thrown onto the North of Israel from Southern Lebanon, reaching the coastal city of Nahariyah and the Western Galilee. There, regrettably, a nursing home was hit, but no one was hurt as the residents were at that time eating their breakfast in another part of the home. The IDF retaliated by sending mortar fire into the sites from where they believe that the rockets were launched. As of now, the citizens of Israel do not know yet whether the North will become a new front in this war, therefore deeming the next 24 hours very crucial in determining this.

While, it remains quiet for the time being in Haifa, this has brought flashbacks of 2006 back to reality, and has brought the North into a newly heightened state of preparedness and worry. Luckily at Or Hadash, we are very prepared for such an attack, and have learned a lesson from the last war, when we had to renovate our shelter amidst the rocket barrages. Now, thanks to our friends and donors from abroad, (including the URJ, WUPJ, ARZA, and the AJC) have one of the best equipped bomb shelters that will protect us against the most horrifying of scenarios. I want to thank you for all of your letters of support that we have received, especially in these past few days. It is a good feeling when more than 380 friends, rabbi, and their congregants show such an outpouring of caring support. I promise to get back to all personally, as I always try to do, as soon as possible!

We hope that the situation will not open up into a Northern front, but as you have seen, this war is an unpredictable and not easy one. For the moment, know that we are safe in Haifa, and that we will of course update you if the situation changes in the near future. Until then, I wish you an upcoming Shabbat shalom.

In Friendship,

Edgar

Fighting in Gaza

2009-01-07T19:34:31Z

By Hanan Cidor, KESHER Shaliach
First published in It's an Israel Thing
Although I'm currently in Israel, it seems as if there was no escape this week from the leading story in the world media about the military operation currently undergoing in the Hamas controlled Gaza strip.

Truth be told, and maybe that's very fitting to an Israeli, I've changed my mind about this operation more than once ever since it started Saturday morning. The basic excuse to start this whole thing is justified in my eyes. For the past seven years, the last three being after Israel has disengaged from its settlements in Gaza and left it for the Palestinians to rule, there have been constant firing of rockets towards Israeli towns and villages across the border. Let's just stop for a moment and think about that sentence. Seven years of rockets on your house, not knowing where and when the next one is going to hit.

I'm an Israeli who lived in Jerusalem in the worst years of the Intifada and even I can't begin to imagine the meaning of that kind of reality. I can't think of one normal state anywhere else in the world that would have let those attacks go unanswered. A government first and most important duty is to protect the people from various threats and attacks such as those inflicted to Israelis by Hamas in the past few years. I know that there are a lot of people out there, Jews and gentiles, Israelis and others, who feel that Israel has its share of responsibility for the desperate situation in which the Palestinians, and with them the entire peace process, has found themselves in the last years. That point is completely valid in my eyes, and in more than one way I will probably agree with some of those claims. That said, still, I see no other option at this point and time than to act against Hamas in an attempt to make them cease their fire. I believe almost no Israeli actually thinks that this operation will fundamentally solve the problem, even the Israeli government, after learning the harsh lessons of the war in Lebanon two years ago, has set the relatively modest goal of creating an atmosphere that will allow us to provide better peace and quiet to the people of the south. After so many years of war and death I think we have all understood that this conflict will never be solved in a military way, it could only be "handled" that way, with each round becoming more violent and desperate. That's exactly why there was no joy whatsoever in me when we started the bombings. Besides my usual disgust of violence of any kind, justified or not, it is clear that the hate towards Israel in Gaza will only grow larger after this kind of operation.

And here exactly lies the unavoidable tragic truth of the Middle East and maybe of every other conflict in the world. With everyone being buried on each side today, even when there is no other choice than protecting yourself violently against threatening enemies, the hatred becomes more inherent in people's souls making it even harder for both sides to reach the agreement and hopefully peace I believe we all fundamentally want. One can only hope that when it does happen and both sides will wake up to understand how ridiculous and worthless it all was, it won't be too late. Maybe it's my optimistic nature, or maybe I'm just naïve, but I truly believe we should never let go of that dream, especially in times like these because otherwise we will condemn ourselves to a life of hatred and death, making this miracle called Israel completely miss the goal of its creation.

On War and Intent

2009-01-07T03:02:09Z

by dcc

"After arriving at my office, at the moment I resumed writing this article, I was again forced to leave, this time because the building next to my office received a threat that an Israeli F-16 strike was imminent."

Jaber Wishah published this line along with a few hundred other words in the December 29th "Eyewitness" column of the Financial Times coverage of latest news in Palestinian-Israeli fighting. He wrote of his family's home being blown to bits because his next-door neighbor was related to a Hamas executive force member. Wishah, deputy director of the independent Palestinian Centre for Human Rights in Gaza City, is clearly not pleased with the incursion and devastation being unleashed upon the population he represents.

As a news junky I read many newspapers and blogs daily but I can't read more than a few paragraphs of a story about this war. Be it in Ha'aretz, the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Al-Jazzera Online or the BBC, I don't care to read anything about the on going conflict over Gaza. Yet Wishah's piece spoke to me. I cut his first-person narrative out of my paper last Monday not because it seemed angry and helpless, but because while hundreds had been killed by Israel's bombings in the days prior, Wishah and his family, friends, colleagues and neighbors got warning before these locations -- legitimate or otherwise -- were destroyed by the Israeli military.

The Israel-firstnicks will say that Israel has the right, without any reservation, to blow Gaza and its Hamas-supporting-population back to the Stone Age. They won't say it in public but they will say it amongst themselves. The Peacenicks will say we need a unilateral cease fire without any regard to the reality of the situation; self-sacrifice is so easy from the comfort of an apartment in Brooklyn. The far Left and radical Right will simply blame Israel because that is easier than looking at the entirety of the situation. Wishah, who is living thought this war as clearly biased but unaffiliated individual, acknowledges the horrific and complex nature of this conflict, perhaps without even knowing it.

A friend of mine asked me last week if I was in favor of these attacks. After going thought geo-political ramifications of such an action -- I studied international politics with a concentration on the Middle East in college -- I dismissed his question. I told him the following:

As I see it, questions like "are you for or against the attacks" are part of the problem we have in dealing with the Middle East. Of course I am against the attacks. We all would rather see peace and security in Israel and Palestine like we would in the rest of the world. I don't like the idea that people I know are sitting on the border with Gaza right now. I would much rather have them at home celebrating Yom Felix (what Israelis call NYE) with friends in Tel Aviv. But a question like "do you think these attacks are necessary" might frame the overall conflict in a different light. In that case I think they had it coming.

But children never have it coming. But children are being killed by Israeli bombs falling on mosques and schools. Those are facts. There are children who have missed weeks of school, have not slept in months and died because of sporadic rocket fire into Sderot. Those are facts. Tom Segeve of Ha'artez explains that the Israeli people understand that "a child in Sderot is the same as a child in Gaza." But as Natan Sharansky said in the Wall Street Journal, such moral equivalency only continues the "most shameful military tactics" of the Palestinians: "pimping the suffering of their civilians as a weapon of war." Granted, Sharansky and Segeve are correct and this does all prove that this situation simply is horrific and unbelievably complicated.

Both Israel and Hamas have a clear goals in this fight. Israel: to let civilians in the South live in peace and security. Hamas: to destroy Israel. While the intent of the two sides are completely different, the means by which they try to achieve them may seem to be similar. Yet targeted attacks on (what I may not consider) military targets is not equivalent to the indiscriminate lobbing of rockets into undoubtedly civilian areas from other undoubtedly civilian areas. Israel was right to respond to the Hamas provocations. Did they go too far? I suppose it depends on who you would speak to; I assume the kids in Sderot think it is fine while the kids in Gaza wouldn't agree.

But these children are not responsible for this situation, they will only inherit it.

I will not pretend to know what to do about this situation. I will however continue to read a few paragraphs a day in the hopes that I will learn of some kids who thought it was better to live than to kill. Ken yi'he l'ratzon, may that be God's will.

Despair has no role in Middle East situation

2009-01-06T03:37:53Z

by Aaron B. Cohen
JUF News Executive Editor
Chicagoans watching the ugly scenes unfolding in the Middle East may wonder what's driving the conflict between Israel and Hamas. Why can't the two sides just get along? Isn't despair driving the extremism?

An engine of determination not one of despair lies under the hood of the Israel-Hamas conflict.

Hamas cannot have despaired of making peace with Israel; it never wanted to. From the outset it determined to wage jihad according to its Islamist credo. Destroying Israel and replacing it with a greater Islamic state of Palestine always has been its goal; terrorism always has been its tactic.

Israel in contrast hasn't despaired of accommodating Palestinian statehood based on mutual recognition and an end to hostilities and claims. But it is determined to prevent Hamas from continuing to rain rockets and missiles on Israeli civilians.

Nearly four years ago Israel withdrew completely from Gaza, determined to exchange land for the possibility of peace. The world witnessed incredible scenes of Israelis evicting Israelis from homes and farms and villages.

Hamas, especially since violently overthrowing Fatah and the Palestinian Authority in Gaza, seized on Israel's withdrawal to intensify rocket fire on towns and villages near the border. For eight years Israeli civilians in the Hamas/Islamic Jihad target zone have lived under a hail of thousands of rockets indiscriminately fired. Only thanks to an ingenious warning system do citizens--mothers with infants, toddlers, schoolchildren, the elderly--have 15 seconds to get to a "safe" room. Israel's efforts to protect its civilians as opposed to the Hamas strategy of waging war from among civilians, has saved hundreds of lives.

Despite the unending provocations all these years Israel declined to attack Hamas all out, in large measure for the sake of Palestinian civilians, whom Hamas uses as human shields. Hamas in contrast singled out as terror targets the crossings for fuel, goods and people between Israel and Gaza, and used the subsequent (and always temporary) closure of those crossings in its ceaseless--and hate-filled--anti-Israel propaganda campaign.

When Hamas came to power it refused to meet the three conditions the international community demanded: recognition of Israel, renunciation of violence, and commitment to previous Israeli-Palestinian agreements. It chose instead to maintain its rejection of Israel's right to exist (which it code-names "resistance"), smuggling weapons from its Iranian patrons into Gaza and firing rockets into Israel.

What happens next?

Hamas is taking a pounding, as it expected and wanted. It's gaining street cred. It's not about to change its stripes. Instead of mutual recognition Hamas will continue to preach Israel's destruction and embrace martyrdom.

Having exhausted all other possibilities during the past eight years, Israel sees no choice but to fight hard.

Who will remain standing and what will be the nature of the peace that someday will come?

There is hope. It's no secret that Israel is the country in the region with the most robust rule of law; the strongest democratic institutions; and the greatest academic, scientific, and economic achievements. It's a cultural powerhouse. It has accomplished it all despite being a nation of embattled survivors and refugees.

The best outcome for the Palestinian people would be to emulate that model, to build rather than to seek to destroy. One of the signs of promise of the peace process of the 1990s was budding cooperation between those Israelis and Palestinians, who, people-to-people, were ready to make peace and to do business.

That's the best chance people have to learn, to create, and to achieve a normal life.

Israel will not abandon its rights to self-determination and self-defense. Will a Palestinian leadership free of the Hamas ideology be prepared to make peace with Israel, end the conflict, and bring the Palestinian people a better life?

No one relishes the heart-rending scenes of civilians caught in a war--especially a war instigated by a fanatical, terrorist group for no other purpose than to erode the existence of a sovereign state.

Despite our sadness we Chicagoans who support Israel do not despair. Israel is determined to prevail.

The Little Town Of Sderot

2009-01-05T19:57:26Z

By Paul Liptz
Paul Liptz (Pbliptz@netvision.net.il) immigrated to Israel on June 4, 1967. He was on the faculty of the Department of Middle Eastern and African History, Tel Aviv University for 35 years. He is now on the staff of the Anita Saltz Center of the World Union of Progressive Judaism and the Hebrew Union College in Jerusalem.

Sderot is a small town close to the north east border of Gaza. It's like many of Israel's peripheral areas with an undeveloped town center, monotonous buildings, lower middle class inhabitants and by and large, citizens who don't really have the money to sell their apartments and move anywhere else. However, the difference between Sderot and most other areas in Israel is that this particular town has been the object of attacks from Gaza for the last eight years.

Sadly, Sderot had little influence with the decision makers. As long as they only suffered a little, it just wasn't worthwhile making too much of a fuss about it. For many Israelis, it was preferable for a small group of people to be under attack than to get involved in a major war. Anyway, there was a widely held belief that Hamas would agree to some form of a minimal cease fire and even though there is unlikely to ever be a peace treaty with them, many Israelis imagined that one could continue with this low level of conflict for an extended period of time, especially since it was "out there".

Some Sderot residents even seemed to be coming to terms with their vulnerable position. They realized that they had few powerful supporters and while the politicians periodically traveled to this outpost to have their photos taken with the locals, the really important issues of Israel were perceived as the events in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem and Haifa and in the banks, stock exchange and high tec firms.

In the historical context there was clearly a precedent for an "expendable" group. During the long years between Israel's Independence in 1948 and the 1967 Six Day War the kibbutzim and moshavim (collective villages) in the most northern area of the country had constantly been under Syrian fire. It hadn't seemed worthwhile going to war to ensure the safety of a relatively small group of citizens. Thus, year after year, children in the upper Galilee spent hours and days and sometimes weeks in bomb shelters while the Syrians shot down from the Golan Heights onto the defenseless villagers. It was only in June 1967 that the position changed radically and Israel took control of the Heights. I well remember my weeks on Kibbutz Dafna in June and July 1967 speaking to a whole generation of innocent people who would still look up to the mountains and wonder when the next alert would be sounded and the rush to ensure that their children were safe, waiting quietly in the harsh concrete bunkers until the all clear signal was sounded.

In many senses, life in Sderot was more difficult. There were few bomb shelters, despite continuing government promises that they would be built. As nuclear families populate this southern town, they didn't have the same kind of caring community and infrastructure that was of such importance to their northern brethren.

In 2005, during the painful unilateral disengagement process whereby several thousand Israelis were forcibly removed from their homes in the Gaza Strip, most people were convinced that now, with Gaza back in the hands of the Palestinians, everything would be just fine. And I was one of those optimists. However, on the second night after the Israeli withdrawal as I saw the Palestinians destroying the greenhouses and hacking at the water pipes, I realized my dream was ludicrous. I had so hoped that this was the first stage of Palestinian independence and slowly but surely, they would build their infrastructures - hospitals, schools and roads and that life would really become better for them.

The skeptics were correct. The Egyptians also quickly recognized that a Hamas controlled Gaza was a threat and so closed the border between them. Israel was troubled by the realities on the ground. Iranian military equipment was flowing into the area and it were designed for one purpose and one purpose only-to be used against the innocent residents of Sderot and the other small towns and villages in the area. The Israeli government decided to control the entry into Gaza of military equipment but permitted food and humanitarian supplies to flow in. However, tunnels built from Egypt were effectively developed and soon the attacks on Israeli citizens increased. The government stated again and again that it was responsible for the well-being of its citizens and thus could not allow a significant area of the country to be under constant attack. Israel's politicians appealed for understanding and asked global leaders a simple question- "What would you do if there were continuous attacks on your sovereign territory?"

More recently Israeli society came to a harsh realization. The attacks were not merely on Sderot, but some one million citizens in cities like Ashdod, Ashkelon, Kiryat Gat and even Beer Sheva would find themselves threatened. The government had no alternative but to take stern action. It was clear that Israel would be widely condemned for defending itself. It is hoped that civilians in Gaza would not unduly suffer but one can never ensure that in military conflict, innocent people won't suffer.

Israel's goals are clear and simple. Allow our citizens to live in peace and the people of Gaza can live their lives undisturbed. Few Israelis ever want to occupy Gaza again. There are too many good things happening in Israel itself and still numerous challenges before us. Now the time has come to try and establish a new reality.

As far as I'm concerned, the people of Gaza can live their lives as they want. The type of government system is up to them. How they behave towards their women is no longer my concern. Their relationship with other Arab countries is an issue only between them and the Arab world.

I hope our goals are rapidly attained. I have no wish to cause suffering to the Palestinians but there has to be an understanding that we, Israelis, are not just going to sit on the sidelines and allow ourselves to be decimated. We've worked too hard to build what we have and no-one, but no-one, is going to destroy us.

Finding Words of Hope

2009-01-05T17:56:22Z

by Gardening Grandma
I've always resonated to the writings of the late Rabbi Chaim Stern, editor of Gates of Prayer and Gates of Repentance. But it wasn't until I read a post by his widow, Lea Lane, on The Huffington Post blog that I realized how his words can be of comfort and encouragement during these difficult days.

The passages quoted are from Day by Day, and include this:

May I be among those who are hard to provoke and easy to appease. May I be a friend of peace at home and at work, and everywhere I go. When I am angry let me reflect whether my anger is proportionate to its cause and appropriate in its expression.

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.

In Response to the Current Israel Situation

2008-12-30T20:48:00Z

by Rabbi Bob Orkand, President of ARZA
As we approach the new year we are focused, once again, on the violence in Gaza. We pray for a quick end to the military action launched by Israel against Hamas and we agonize over the death of innocent civilians on both sides of the border.

As usual, Israel's critics are quick to denounce the Jewish state for its actions. How easy it is for critics to ignore what led to the current military action: Population centers in southern Israel have been the target of over 4,000 rockets, as well as thousands of mortar shells, fired by Hamas and other organizations since 2001. The first Grad/Katyusha strike on Ashdod took place on December 28. There had been no formal cease fire between Israel and Hamas, but only an informal six-month tahadiya (lull) during which 215 rockets were launched at Israel. On December 21, Hamas unilaterally announced that the lull had ended.

On December 27, UN Secretary Ban Ki-moon's spokesman issued a statement saying that while the Secretary-General recognized "Israel's security concerns regarding the continued firing of rockets from Gaza," he reiterated "Israel's obligation to uphold international humanitarian and human rights laws." The statement specifically noted that he "condemns excessive use of force leading to the killing and injuring of civilians (emphasis added). French President Nicholas Sarkozy, who holds the rotating presidency of the European Union, also condemned Israel's "disproportionate use of force," while demanding an end to rocket attacks on Israel. Brazil also joined the chorus, using the same language. Undoubtedly, a powerful impression has been created by large newspaper headlines describing massive Israeli airstrikes in Gaza without any explanation of Israel's reasons for such actions.

There are several ways to respond to this criticism. While one must always be sensitive to the deaths of innocent civilians, one must also ask what any civilized nation would and must do to defend its citizens from missile and rocket attacks. One can only wonder what the United States would do, for example, if terrorists in Mexico indiscriminately fired missiles toward cities in Texas. The charge that Israel uses disproportionate force keeps resurfacing whenever it has to defend its citizens from non-state terrorist organizations and the rocket attacks they perpetuate. Alan Dershowitz noted two years ago: "Proportion must be defined by reference to the threat proposed by an enemy and not by the harm it has produced." Waiting for a Hamas rocket to fall on an Israeli school, he notes, would put Israel in the position of allowing "its enemies to play Russian Roulette with its children" (Alan Dershowitz, "The Hamas Government has Declared War Against Israel: How Should Israel Respond?" Huffington Post, March 14, 2008).

Abraham Bell of the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs reminds us that "if the attempt has been made to minimize civilian damage, then even a strike that causes large amounts of damage--but is directed at a target with very large military value--would be lawful" (Abraham Bell, "International Law and Gaza: The Assault on Israel's Right to Self-Defense, Jerusalem Issue Brief, Vol. 7, No. 29, January 28, 2008, Institute for Contemporary Affairs/Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs). The fact that the number of civilian deaths, as tragic as they are, have been minimal, attests to Israel's care in striking only Hamas military targets.

One must also take into account the fact that most armies seek to achieve military victory by the defeating the military capacity of an enemy. That is what Israel is now doing. The targets thus far have been training facilities, bomb depots, and Hamas military headquarters.

Again, any loss of civilian life is regrettable. No one in Israel rejoices when such casualties occur. In fact, Israel has in the past cancelled military operations over concern for the loss of civilian lives. However, when an operation is legitimate and there are civilian casualties despite best efforts to avoid them, the ultimate responsibility lies with Hamas. As Michael Walzer said in 2006, "When Palestinian militants launch rocket attacks from civilian areas, they are themselves responsible--and no one else is--for the civilian deaths caused by Israeli counter fire" (Michael Walzer, "How Aggressive Should Israel Be? War Fair," The New Republic Online, July 31, 2006).

Over the coming days we will see attempts at fairness--to place the blame on both Israel and Hamas. Our approach must be to express sorrow for any loss of life, but to do all we can to help others understand that once again Hamas is clearly the aggressor in this conflict and that Israel has no choice but to respond in such a way as to defeat those who would benefit from an ongoing conflict. Enough is enough.

Shamor v'zachor - Observe and Remember

2008-12-30T00:08:26Z

by Daniel Crane
First-year rabbinical student at HUC-JIR
Originally written for blogHUC and Daniel's blog Journaling in Jerusalem

I've been involved with interfaith dialogue since my first year of college. So when I signed up for Rav Siach, an interdenominational rabbinical student discussion group in Jerusalem, I expected an interesting and smooth experience. The past two months have definitely been interesting, but I could hardly call them smooth!

For the past eight weeks, four fellow HUC rabbinical students and I have been traveling to Melitz, a pluralistic education center in Jerusalem, to meet a handful of our future colleagues from other denominations. There are about a dozen participants with three facilitators, and we come from Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, "orthodox," and non-denominational backgrounds. Thus, we come to the table not only with our personal perspectives but also with the weight of our "movements" on our shoulders. And all that weight has made for some very heavy conversations. We discuss and debate issues like commandedness, the role of the rabbi, and denominational distinctions, and we strive to keep our minds open while attempting to understand the thoughts of the others. This can be a significant challenge, but our mutual respect gives us the motivation to try our hardest.

One of the most intense components of Rav Siach has been our recent Shabbaton, which began when we departed from Jerusalem at 7:15 am on a Friday morning for the Arbel. The Arbel is a plateau overlooking Lake Kinneret, Sfat, Tiberias, and the coastal plain. From so high up, one can see for miles in any direction, and the views were simply stunning.

The wife of one of our facilitators is a tour guide in the Arbel, and she led us through paths down the side of the Arbel and around the face of the cliff. We rested in the abandoned caves that had been inhabited by the last remnants of the Hasmonean Dynasty that had gained control of the land of Israel following the events commemorated by Hanukkah, and we read the historical account of their eventual defeat in these very hills. Afterward, we climbed back up the cliff, gripping iron handholds and stealing final glimpses of the plains and hills laid out before us. When we reached the top, we ate our packed lunches and headed to the hostel/conference center where we'd be spending the night.

The actual hours of Shabbat were fascinating on many levels. First of all, there were a number of interesting lessons offered by our peers. Some of the topics included a comparison of the parsha with a selection from Homer's Odyssey, Reform Responsa (religious/legal decisions in the Reform movement), and the recent ruling in the Conservative movement to allow for the ordination of openly gay rabbis. We walked on Saturday afternoon to the Kinneret Cemetery, where several influential figures in early Israeli history, including the poet Rachel, the songwriter Naomi Shemer, and the Zionist labor leader Berl Katznelson are buried. And, of course, the food was plentiful and terrific!

Two particular events especially defined the scope and depth of the Shabbaton for me. The first occurred on Friday night, when we walked to our assigned room to pray together. Upon arrival, we discovered that the light was off, and to turn it on would be a violation of the rules of Shabbat in the eyes of our observant participants. As this value isn't part of my own Shabbat practice, I thought I could fix the situation by simply turning on the light in the room. I knew that it was unacceptable to ask someone to turn a light on for you, so I quickly walked to the room and flipped the switch on without saying a word. What followed was a wholly unique experience.

Immediately, the group had transformed. Everyone was in shock. What had I done? Although I didn't know this at the time, it's additionally not allowed for one who observes strict laws of Shabbat to make use of the result of a fellow Jew's breaking those laws. In other words, though I had tried to make the room suitable for our use, I had actually made it entirely unkosher.

I've come head-to-head with halacha before, but this was the first time that I had really affected people that I cared about. Words were exchanged, apologies were made, and discussion ensued. This certainly serves of an example of the principle that being told something doesn't make up for experiencing it firsthand. Never before had I felt so much access to the world of halacha as when I entered that world and shattered it for others. It was a painful lesson but an important one, and certainly the most important to me over the course of the Shabbaton.

On the other side of the spectrum, the spiritual high for me came on Shabbat morning. Our non-denominational rabbinical student led us in meditative morning blessings, and the combination of singing and silence launched me into a spiritual experience. While our voices had been in debate and discussion, not until this moment were they in harmony. I felt our small community coalesce into a praying body, and I was proud and delighted to be a part of it.

In my eyes, the Shabbaton was a terrific success and showed that pluralistic Shabbat experiences may not be easy but they can absolutely be transformative. Many of the Rav Siach participants now feel a renewed interest in such programs, and I believe that we're all better equipped to lead and learn in pluralistic environments in the future. While I'm disappointed that our official group will be coming to a close in a few weeks, I look forward to continuing my relationship with these future colleagues and continuing to learn from them for years to come.

Response to the Gaza Violence

2008-12-28T21:31:10Z

By Rabbi Eric Yoffie
For the past three weeks, Israel has lived under an increasing barrage of rocket fire from the Hamas-controlled Gaza Strip. More than 80 missiles landed on a single day. Israel's first responsibility, like that of any nation, is to protect her citizens. The military action that Israel launched Saturday morning was clearly intended to do just that.

Israel's action is as tragic as it is necessary and predictable. While we mourn the loss of life, no democratic nation in the world would permit a hostile force on its border to target its civilian centers with constant missile attacks. Israel has demonstrated extraordinary restraint as nearly 8000 rockets have been launched at Israel's cities in the last 8 years. When Israel withdrew every civilian and soldier from Gaza in 2005, the attacks did not stop for a single day.

We believe that military action must always be the last resort. But more and more Israeli cities are now in range of Hamas' rocket-firing army of terror, and we know that the traumatized children of Sderot and neighboring towns can no longer be expected to live in constant fear.

Hamas chose to end the existing cease-fire. Hamas has cynically chosen to use Palestinian civilians as cover for its military operations. Hamas openly declares its commitment to destroy Israel. Hamas, therefore, must bear responsibility for the bloodshed. Hamas, and only Hamas, can make the decision to move beyond this bloody conflict by stopping, once and for all, all attacks on Israel from the territory it controls.

We welcome the words of Israel's Defense Minister Ehud Barak that every effort will be made to limit casualties among the civilian population of Gaza. We welcome as well the words of the Israeli Foreign Minister Tzipi Livni, who emphasized in her statement that "while confronting Hamas, Israel continues to believe in the two-state solution and remains committed to negotiations with the legitimate Palestinian Authority in the context of the peace process, launched at Annapolis."

We note, with sadness, the predictable chorus of those in the international community who call for Israeli "restraint." These critics offer no solution to the suffering of Israel's citizens, and in the face of rockets terrorizing their own children, would not be talking of restraint and proportionality. They would be demanding that their governments put an end to the attacks.

We share concerns expressed by our government and by others that food, medicine and other humanitarian assistance be allowed to reach Gaza. We note that Israel has permitted humanitarian aid to pass through the Gaza crossings, and we call upon Israel, western governments, and international aid groups to do everything possible to avoid a humanitarian crisis in Gaza.

We thank the Government of the United States, which has been a voice of reason in responding to Israel's actions. We hope that the Palestinian leadership will demand an end to missile fire and a return to the path of peace and the negotiations begun in Annapolis. And we pray that the Palestinian people will strengthen the hand of all who are prepared to make peace a reality.

Chanukah VII - A holiday for every Jew, a holiday for today's Gaza

2008-12-27T18:34:06Z

By David A.M. Wilensky
First published on The Reform Shuckle

Chanukah is my favorite holiday. I know that involved, intellectual Jews like myself are supposed to declar that Pesach is their favorite or something, but I think that we do Chanukah a disservice these days. Undoubtedly, Chanukah's proximity to Christmas has made it a more major holiday in recent decades as American Jews have sought to include themselves in winter holiday festivities, but I'd argue that Chanukah's popularity cannot be reduced to such a disdainable cause.

If Yom Kippur or even Simchat Torah came at this season, we would not have been able to seize upon them and say, "Yes, goyim! We are just like you! We too have an uplifting winter holiday!" Chanukah is a great holiday all on its own and I'm here to tell you why.

Let's say you're a little kid and you like presents, it's a great holiday. It's also a great holiday for inculcating our children about tz'dakah and the value of education.

Rabbi Abraham P. Bloch has written that "The tradition of giving money (Chanukah gelt) to children is of long standing. The custom had its origin in the seventeenth-century practice of Polish Jewry to give money to their small children for distribution to their teachers. In time, as children demanded their due, money was also given to children to keep for themselves. Teen-age boys soon came in for their share. According toMagen Avraham (18th cent.), it was the custom for poor yeshiva students to visit homes of Jewish benefactors who dispensed Chanukah money (Orach Chaim 670)." [Wikipedia]

Or let's say you're a typical American. Aside from the obvious upside of feeling slightly less culturally marginalized during December/Kislev, this is a supremely compelling holiday. Modern American Jews tend to be liberal and, if not urban, metropolitan or suburban. We go to university, we are highly assimilated. Yet, Chanukah is about Jews like us getting their asses handed to them. The hellenized city Jews supported Antiochus and it is a group of bible belt fundamentalists who've been living off in the countryside who are the victors in the story of Chanukah. As Americans, we take part in a country with a huge, some would say increasingly imperial army. Yet, Chanukah is about the guerilla defeat of such an army.

Or let's say you're into miracles. The Talmud has the inspiring story of a dire olive oil shortage. Without more olive oil, the Temple cannot be properly rededicated, but miraculously a tiny amount lasts over week (!) until more can be scrounged up. It's a great winter story, right in line with the cross-cultural trend of winter light festivals and as such, Chanukah works.

Or let's say you're into history or text study. This holiday has it all! There are three great texts from the Apocrypha, and at least three from the Talmud. Of course, the classic source texts for the holiday are Maccabees I and II, late Jewish texts not included in the Tanach, but included in the Catholic Bible as part of the Apocrypha. These text relate the military struggle of the Maccabees and the story of the restoration of the Temple and of the transformation of a late celebration of Sukot into an annual week-long independence celebration. The Talmud offers us the miracle-driven version of the holiday offered above, a story about Adam's amazement at the his first winter equinox and his subsequent celebration of festival for that occasion, as well as story of Chanah and her sons who are killed for refusing to worship an idol in the midst of the Hasmonean War. The third book from the Apocrypha is that story of Judith, which leads me to...

Or let's say you're a feminist, or just interested in the representaion of women in Jewish texts. There's the book of Judith, or Yehudit, which simple means Jewess. Yehudit, the title character lives in a town under siege by one of Antiochus' generals, Holofrenes. Yehudit sneaks into Holofrenes' tent at night and seduces him. She takes his own sword and removes his head. And one time my mom was Yehudit for Purim or Halloween or something. It's a good story.

Or let's say you live anywhere in the diaspora. Here's a story about the triumph of Jewish culture over an assimilationist force!

Or let's say you're Israeli or simply a Zionist who remains in galut. Of course, the ultimate Zionist holiday is Yom Ha'atzma'ut, Independence Day, but Zionism always seeks to justify itself historically. How better to do that than to celebrate an older Jewish independence day?

There's a final reason why this is a great holiday for our times. Today, hostilities have increased in Gaza. Palestinians and Israelis are dying today in an occupied territory. I don't pretend to know who is good in this conflict and who is bad. Probably, there is no good guy and no bad guy in Israel today. But Chanukah is the story of Jews under occupation, seeking their right to self-determination. And in Gaza today, some people we like to think of as enemies are doing the same thing. Let's all just think about that as Chanukah begins to wind down, eight candles on our menorot, with only one more night of light to go.

Shavua tov.

Support Reform Rabbis in Israel

2008-12-14T23:54:04Z

by Gardening Grandma
I'm at Union's board of trustees meeting, where they've just passed unanimously a resolution urging all Reform Jews to sign the petition to have Rabbi Miri Gold, the rabbi of Birkat Shalom in Kibbutz Gezar, recognized as a rabbi by the State of Israel. Please, show your support now by signing it now! www.irac.org

We'll be sharing more information from the board meeting soon....

The Jewish Vote

2008-10-25T00:34:15Z

By Larry Kaufman
I've always made it my business not to talk politics with my business associates, especially those who are likely to be on the opposite side of the political spectrum. But my wife has no such inhibitions, and one night my very WASPy, very right-wing client banged on the table and said, "Dammit, Barbara, you live like an Episcopalian and vote like a Puerto Rican." He also remarked to me one day, "I just don't understand why my Jewish friends are all so ready to vote against their pocket-books." To which I replied, "Joe, I can live with an extra thousand dollars on my tax bill, but I can't live with prayer in the public schools."

Four years ago, my friend Ralph emailed me almost daily, sending highly partisan screeds inveighing against a presidential candidate I had never told him I supported. I think he figured out by my abstention from rebutting or responding to any of these missives that I was on the other side, and he too expressed surprise that his Jewish friends were going to vote against a candidate he described as the best friend Israel had ever had. My answer to him, similar to my answer to Joe -"I can't speak for your other Jewish friends, and I'm sure none of them is a stauncher Zionist than I am, but ultimately I have to vote for the candidate that I consider the best choice for the United States."

In the current campaign, there has been more talk about the Jewish vote than I can remember in years... especially the Jewish vote in Florida. The Great Schlep is based on the spoken fear that elderly Jews in that up-for-grabs state are nervous about their natural candidate's stance on Israel, and the whispered fear that Bubbe and Zayde won't vote for an African American.

Frankly, I have enough confidence in Bubbe and Zayde to think that when racism is an issue in the polling place, they vote against it. However, I know a lot of Jews who will be influenced by their impression of the candidates' stands on Israel.

As it happened, my congregation presented a program today with a spokesman from AIPAC, the Israel lobby. As you know, AIPAC is not a PAC. It endorses no candidates - its mission is to look out for the interests of Israel with the Congress and the Administration. Our speaker pointed out that, divided as our Congress is on most issues, the only issue that is still overwhelmingly bipartisan is support for Israel - and he made it clear that both presidential candidates are equally staunch for Israel, and that our votes could be decided on other issues, because that one is a wash.

A similar bottom line emerged from a recent blog from the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, which projected that Israel would be a priority issue for either new administration. Apparently the smart money is saying if you're going to vote on the basis of what's good for the Jews, you can vote in what you perceive as the best interest of American Jews, not of Israeli Jews.

So whom do most American Jews perceive as deserving of their votes in the upcoming election? My source for most of my information about Jewish current events is the JTA and currently that includes almost daily visits to its Election Central, which is projecting that the Jewish vote will split in much the same ratio as it has for years, 75/25, give or take a few points in either direction.

Back in 1936 they told about the young man who reported to his immigrant mother, "Roosevelt won by a landslide." To which she replied, "Thank God for the landsleit" The landsleit, for those who need the translation, are the people who came from the same land you did, back in the days when our Jewish community was ethnically variegated.. As all of us have assimilated into the American fabric, we may live like Episcopalians - but statistics show that, however we vote, we vote. So vote your conscience, vote your pocketbook, vote your convictions - and take satisfaction that whichever of the two candidates you choose, you won't have to apologize to Israel.

Israel on My Mind...Again

2008-10-24T23:46:54Z

By JanetheWriter
In my current read, In the Land of Invisible Women, Qanta Ahmed, a young Muslim medical doctor from the west, tells of her adventures living and working in the Saudi Kingdom. In one chapter in which Ahmed details her preparations to go on Hajj, a spiritual pilgrimage to Mecca, I was struck by several parallels between her journey and my own first trip to Israel.

After confiding in a colleague about her worries that she won't know the proper thing to do or say, he tells her, "Nearly everyone who attends Hajj is going there for the first time. No pilgrim ever knows what to do. Everyone takes small books with them, books of prayers and instructions."

In fact, tucked into the paperwork, luggage tags and other miscellany I received from ARZA Travel prior to my own departure was a small book entitled Israel: A Spiritual Travel Guide, A Companion for the Modern Jewish Pilgrim. Part travel guide, part journal and part siddur, it seamlessly combines before and after readings together with blessings and space for personal reflections for various regions, sites and events in Israel: the Galil, the Negev, Jerusalem, the Knesset, the Kotel, Yad Vashem, Tel Aviv and more. Indeed, this guide, my constant companion throughout the journey, appears with me in many photos and in several journal entries:

After lunch it was off to the Kotel, where I deposited everyone's prayers, distributed tzedakah and left my own note for peace. I also spied through the mechitzah over to the men's side and held my camera overhead to capture a shot. Before our approach to the wall, Ezra (our guide) asked me to share the reading from Larry Hoffman's book, which I did. We also took a group picture.

* * *

Later in the same chapter, Ahmed describes the scene at the airport as she prepared to depart for Mecca: "The terminal was submerged in a biblical scene; no movie set could have been more authentic. Millions were locked in the same force field. We were being magnetically drawn to Mecca. I could feel the gravitational pull of God."

Recalling what I'd heard and written in my journal at the time our group ascended to Jerusalem, I was astounded:

Leaving Karmiel, we raced to Jerusalem, traveling down Route 6 (once again passing the security wall) and approaching Jerusalem from the west. As we ascended the highway toward the city, Elliott started to speak about a friend who went to the North Pole to photograph an expedition there. In relaying the adventure to a group of friends afterward, the photographer described how the magnetic fields there do weird things to your body. Everyone in the group of friends who was Jewish and had been to Jerusalem nodded in understanding and reported having similar experiences in Jerusalem.

This cosmic alignment that seems to transcend all boundaries has left me wondering a few things: Is it only Muslims who feel the magnetic pull to Mecca? Only Jews whose magnetic centers align in Jerusalem? If so, how does the universe know exactly who's who? Where is it that Catholics experience this cosmic force, the magnetic intersection of body and soul? The Vatican? Bethlehem? What about other Christians and those of other faiths?

Regardless of the specific, "right" answers, if, in fact, there are any, the forces of the universe are powerful and inextricably linked to each of us. Therefore, let us harness these forces for good--for peace, for justice, and for making our world a better place for all.

Seeking Israel Travel Advice

2008-10-10T23:14:50Z

By Larry Kaufman
My wife Barbara and I are beginning to plan our fifth trip to Israel, and are already discussing what we want to do and see this time. Our first trip, more than thirty years ago, was a three-week group tour, which covered the major tourist sites/sights quite well. Our subsequent visits, the most recent two years ago, have allowed us to fill in many of the touristic holes. So the question is, what should be on our itinerary, either because Israel has changed so much over these three and a half decades, or because it's relatively new, or it's so far off the beaten path that we may have missed it previously, or it just hasn't made its way into the general travel canon?

The Diaspora Museum in Tel Aviv was an important highlight of our 1983 trip and of our 2002 trip -- but do we need to see it again in 2009? Petra, which we visited in 2007, is a vivid memory, but we're not archaeologists, or Ark-Raiders freaks -- no need to go there again. A hidden treasure that we probably wouldn't have found on our own during our 2007 visit was the Menachem Begin Museum in Jerusalem. Fortunately, someone in Chicago told us about it before we left, and we were glad that we took his advice. (Note that we are emphatically not Likudniks or Begin fans -- but we have become Begin Museum fans.)

Although our two most recent visits have been under Reform movement auspices, we haven't yet made it to either of the movement's kibbutzim, Yahel or Lotan, an omission we'll try to rectify this time. We're also hoping to celebrate Shabbat at our synagogue's sister congregation outside Jerusalem, Kehilat Tzur Hadassah. Although we are not nervous travelers, we essentially avoided the Old City on our last two trips - I hope we'll feel comfortable about re-exploring it this time.

When we tell people that we're traveling to Israel, two kinds of "comfort" questions tend to arise. Most frequently, they have to do with personal safety and media-stimulated nervousness about suicide bombers and other terrorist types. I'm always reminded of the question someone posed to my mother, when she announced at age 70, back in the early 1970s, that she was moving from the Lincoln Center area of Manhattan to Tel Aviv: "Aren't you nervous about moving into a war zone?" "No," she replied, "I'm moving out of a war zone." With the same kind of prudence that needs to be exercised in any city in the world, personal safety is just not an issue.

The other kind of question isn't really a question; it's a criticism of Israel for the undue influence of the ultra-Orthodox in matters of personal status and funding for non-Orthodox institutions. As I have commented previously, we should be looking at the donut and not the hole, and seeing first-hand the enormous forward strides the Progressive and Masorti movements have made in recent years -- congregations, buildings (including those built with government funding), schools, community centers, and above all, public recognition that Reform has something important to offer to Israelis, that it's not just an American import catering to American olim. Not going to or supporting Israel because of the ultra-Orthodox is a counter-productive way to cut off your nose to spite your face.

So yes, we're comfortable about going, to recharge our spiritual and Zionist batteries, to forward our personal agenda of promoting Progressive Judaism worldwide, and to gain the cultural enrichment that foreign travel provides. Assuming we have a week at our disposal (supplementing the week of WUPJ meetings that will be the impetus for the trip), where shall we go? Eat? Shop? What hidden treasures can you tell us about? And what's the magnet that doesn't fall under your been there done that rubric and that you visit every time you have the good fortune to travel to Israel?

Top Priority or Empty Promise?

2008-10-08T19:04:55Z

By Jeff Oakley
(First posted on the RACBlog)
Jeff Oakley is an Eisendrath Legislative Assistant at the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism.

Last week, Republican Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin stated that "a two-state solution is the solution... and that will be [a] top of an agenda item, also, under a McCain-Palin administration." Democratic VP candidate Joe Biden stated, for his part, that "no one in the United States Senate has been a better friend to Israel than Joe Biden" and that Obama will bring "thoughtful, real, live diplomacy that understands that you must back Israel in letting them negotiate, support their negotiation, and stand with them."

From the claims of the campaigns, getting down to business with Israel in reaching a two-state solution to the conflict will be a top priority. For myself, as a part of the Reform movement, which enthusiastically calls for such an approach, these claims are great to hear. To achieve success in negotiations, the next President simply cannot withhold enthusiasm and dedication to solving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict until their lame duck months (as the last two have).

Will the same pattern of passivity and procrastination return with the next President, regardless of the electoral campaign promises? Ha'aretz columnist Yoel Marcus certainly thinks so, writing today that "Israel won't top the agenda for Obama or McCain."

With an economic crisis, wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and the challenges of Iran, Pakistan, Russia, China, health care, tax policy, immigration, education, energy independence, environmental policy, and much more to think about (a McCain adviser had earlier claimed there to be as many as 30 more important crises in foreign policy alone), the 44th President will indeed have pressing issues that could easily lead to Israel being shuffled to the back of the line.

However, given the failures that have resulted with such an approach, I believe strongly that a failure to keep the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a high priority of the administration will not benefit the United State or Israel. So, with Palin claiming that a two-state solution will be at the top of the agenda, and Biden scolding the Bush administration for only "trying to turn it around now in the seventh or eighth year", and insisting on "thoughtful, real, live diplomacy", there may be hope yet for diplomacy.

Given the urgent need for American leadership in ensuring that the talk about a two-state solution becomes a reality, to ensure Israel's long-term security, viability, and prosperity, I'm certainly hoping that the next President will stick to the promises made this fall to provide that leadership.

Israel on My Mind

2008-10-08T19:00:37Z

By JanetheWriter
In an earlier post on this blog, I wrote that I love to read the wedding announcements in the Sunday New York Times. I also read the obituaries--almost daily--and am repeatedly amazed by the fascinating array of people portrayed and the interesting lives they led.

Avraham Biran, the biblical archeologist who excavated layers and layers of Tel Dan was just such a person. His obituary in this week's paper, more than weaving the tale of a fascinating man and his life, released a flood of memories of my first visit to Israel, which included a quick stop at the site of the excavation.

Each of these remembrances, from the oily grit of the tarmac on my fingertips at the old Ben Gurion Airport to the wonderfully chewy bread from a roadside bakery on Raziel Street in Jaffa--my first meal in Israel--holds a special place in my heart. That whirlwind week--from Tel Aviv to the Golan, Kfar Blum to Netanya, Caesaria to Jerusalem--took me to emotional highs: salty Mediterranean sea spray, the Haas Promenade and the Old City, and to deep sadness embodied in the flashing blue light atop a lone police car parked where, hours earlier, 11 innocent people had died and more than 50 had been injured in a rush hour suicide bus bombing in Rehavia.

Although we are months away from our annual springtime recitation of "Next year in Jerusalem," Avraham Biran's obituary refreshed my memories and my desire to be there again. Tonight, even as the soulful strains of Kol Nidre echo around us, let us remember Jerusalem and pray for her peace in 5769.

Olmert lets it all out

2008-10-07T00:53:48Z

By Hanan Cidor, KESHER Shaliach
First published in It's an Israel Thing
In a very unordinary interview with, who I guess you could say is not a very ordinary man, resigning Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has made some relatively dramatic proclamations regarding his view of Israel's future in the coming years. Olmert basically stated in his otherwise dull traditional holiday interview that it is his belief that Israel will eventually have to let go of most if not all of what is regarded as the "occupied territories" of Judea and Samaria, eastern Jerusalem and the Golan Heights in order to achieve true and lasting peace with the Palestinians, Syrians and basically the entire Arab world. Obviously enough, the importance of that statement lies in its speaker rather than in the content. Olmert's announcement marks the very first of its kind coming from the highest Israeli executive. Although of somewhat lesser practical importance because of it being his last few weeks in power, still, it is bound to set some sort of precedent for future deliberations with Israel's neighbors and more importantly, with in Israeli society.

Reactions for Olmert's interview were, as expected, mostly negative in nature. The right wing accusing him of unilaterally and irresponsibly expressing his willingness to cede territories that should always stay part of Israel while from the left the remarks are deemed as being insignificant or even cynical, taking into account Olmert's inability to actually come through on any of his statements. To me, although somewhat odd in terms of timing, the interview marks another small step in the seemingly never ending road to a complete and final accord, which like always, is still very far. No matter what agreement any Israeli Prime Minister will reach with the Palestinians and Syrians, it will be almost worthless without it involving a serious and thorough discussion between all sides of Israeli society. Since the decisions and price involving any future accord relates and seen as crucial to almost all of Israel's citizens.

Rabbi Bachman knocks it out of the park

2008-10-02T19:15:22Z

By David A.M. Wilensky (First published on The Reform Shuckle)
I've said it before and I'll say it again: The man is a genius. Check out a transcript of Rabbi Andy Bachman's erev Rosh Hashanah sermon here. Here' an excerpt:

Surrendering total control is never easy-especially as members of a synagogue community founded on principles that value the intellect over the experiential; the rational over the mysterious; Reform over Tradition. Of course, as we continually need to remind ourselves, the historical circumstances that founded this community in 1861 are quite different from those that demand action in the world today. Our membership, ever growing, comes from all walks of Jewish life-Reform, Conservative and Orthodox and non-Jewish life as well. I find that fewer people have an intellectual ax to grind with Tradition and Reform is not much more than: 1. a commitment to egalitarian values for men, women, gays and lesbians; 2. a rationalist and historical view of the authorship of Torah; and, 3. devotion to the principles of Tikkun Olam, Social Justice and Social Action. But "Reforming Judaism?" I've yet to encounter in my years here a single Jew who truly wants to Reform Judaism. After all, in humility, we could easily spend the next 50 years just figuring out what Judaism IS!

Children of the Emek

2008-09-21T18:13:42Z

By Larry Kaufman
For my ninth birthday, my Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Morris gave me a book hot off the presses, written by their friend Libbie Braverman, who was the principal of the Hebrew school at the Euclid Avenue Temple in Cleveland. The book was called Children of the Emek, and had emerged from Libbie's recent trip to Palestine, very shortly before trans-Atlantic travel was halted by World War II.

Children of the Emek told the story of life in Palestine under the British mandate, through the eyes of a young brother and sister who lived in Nahalal, in the Jezreel Valley (the Emek of the title).

I remember their life on the moshav, their visits to Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, and to a kibbutz, and especially their friendship with Elsa, a girl their age who had just come to Palestine as a refugee from Nazi Germany through the auspices of Youth Aliyah.

By the time I was a senior in high school, Libbie had been promoted at the Euclid Avenue Temple and had become education director - and her successor as head of Hebrew, Sara Palay, hired me to teach Hebrew to second graders. Thus I got a chance to get to know Libbie in a context other than as my aunt's friend and as the author of what had been one of my favorite books.

Although as a bookish kid in a Zionist household, I read and re-read Children of the Emek, I didn't properly appreciate it until some 35 years after I first encountered it, when I realized during my first trip to Israel how much of what I knew about the country could be traced to this book I had read as a youngster.

With the benefit of hindsight, I suppose the book was intended as a Sunday school textbook - both of the Reform temples in Cleveland were led by rabbis who were ardent Zionists at a time when Zionism was far from the mainstream of the Reform movement. My supposition about the book's presumed textbook origin was corroborated many years later, when I stumbled on a copy at a used book sale. This turned out to be a 1954 update, in which the characters and the setting remained intact, but the story had been brought up to date to portray the early years of the state rather than the pre-war, pre-state era. Frankly, I didn't feel that the modernization worked - but then, I was no longer nine years old. However, a Google search today reveals that you can still buy copies!

At this season of cheshbon hanefesh, the accounting of our souls, it's appropriate to look back at our mistakes and our regrets. I realize now with regret that when I came back from that first trip to Israel, I should have called Libbie and told her about the lasting impact her book had had on a nine-year old kid - and also on the impact her providing a teaching opportunity had had on a seventeen-year old kid. She would have been in her seventies by then, and I've been told that she lived to a ripe old age, in full possession of her faculties and of her reputation as a peerless educator. I offer this public tribute to a great lady as a substitute for the private message I should have delivered.

Next Year in Jerusalem?

2008-09-11T19:23:57Z

By Larry Kaufman
As part of a unique new cooperative venture between the Reform movement and the Aliyah Department of the Jewish Agency for Israel, Rabbi Stanley and Resa Davids are touring North America, talking to groups of Reform Jews about a variety of options for extended sojourns in Israel short of complete relocation. They are focusing especially on "flex aliyah" and its variations, such having a second home in Jerusalem instead of in Phoenix or Palm Springs, or, as the Davids have done since prior to Rabbi Davids' retirement from the pulpit, splitting the year between North America and Israel.

Given the distancing that once characterized the relationship between the Reform movement and the very idea of a Jewish state, the current rapprochement is particularly noteworthy - and getting to this point required major changes in the thinking not only of the Reform movement, but also of the Zionist movement. Reform had to put behind it the idea of Judaism as religion and only religion, and had to come to terms with peoplehood; Zionism had to abandon the idea of shlilat hagolah, eradication of the Diaspora, along with the rhetoric that one was only a Zionist if one came to live permanently in Israel.

I find that rhetoric disturbing when it comes from Israel, and even more disturbing when an American Reform Jew, pro-Israel though he might be, refuses to join ARZA on the grounds that he's not a Zionist because he has no intention of pulling up stakes and relocating to Israel. As Rabbi Davids said more eloquently than I can replicate, we need a new definition and a new paradigm for what Zionism means in the 21st century to a Jewish Diaspora community that, thank God, has no urgent external need for the Zion of refuge. Without a personal plan for an aliyah of choice, we are Zionists when we recognize that our Diaspora security as Jews as well as the enrichment of Jewish culture and spirituality rest in some measure on the fact and accomplishments of Zion,

Listening to the Davids the other night, as they described their own experiences in establishing their home and lifestyle in Jerusalem, and the concepts of "flex aliyah" or what the Jewish Agency used to call Aliyah in Stages, I was reminded of the days when, as the Chicago regional president of ARZA, I talked to congregations about the changed relationship between Reform and Zionism. Borrowing from the name used by our movement in much of the world outside of North America, I proposed the mitzvah of Progressive Aliyah.

Progressive Aliyah, I told my audiences, might start with a temple youth group trip, and proceed to a semester in Israel, a three-week stint with Volunteers for Israel, or some other variety of extended stay. For some Reform Jews, I would say, using a line that was always well received even if rarely heeded, retirement in Netanya might be a suitable alternative to retirement in Boca Raton.

One night, however, I was asked to speak about Zionism not to a Reform congregation, but to the Hadassah chapter in a local retirement community, The Breakers. I modified my Reform-oriented script, but retained the subject of aliyah and the concept of Progressive Aliyah. Given the venue, I suggested that some American Jews might want to consider the option of retirement in Netanya as an alternative to retirement at The Breakers. At this juncture, the Hadassah president interrupted and told me, "I lived for twenty-five years in Netanya. When I retired, I came to The Breakers!"

Rabbi Davids tells us that the pace of Reform aliyah from North America has doubled in recent months, albeit from a low starting point. Among the factors that are making life in Israel more attractive to Reform Jews across the age spectrum are the improved quality of life in general, and achieving critical mass and accordingly an increased Reform presence. Not only are there now 25 member congregations in the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism (IMPJ), but three of them have received government support for their synagogue buildings.

Rabbi Davids stresses the continued importance of working to have the Chief Rabbinate (Orthodox) separated from the government, but nonetheless feels that American Reform Jews contemplating Israel residency can now enjoy the donut instead of fixating on the hole. Above all, he stresses the importance of Reform on-site citizen voices in assuring an Israeli future that is Jewish, pluralistic, and democratic.

In an earlier blog post, I expressed my belief that every Jew should, at least once in a lifetime, observe the mitzvah of travel to Jerusalem. At the very least, Resa and Stanley Davids have challenged us to think beyond a single visit to the vision of a new life. I know they are gratified, as they cover the congregational circuit to talk about aliyah, at how many people are turning out to hear their message, and I know that the Jewish Agency Aliyah Department must be wondering why it waited so long to target the Reform market. Of course, the cooperation and encouragement of the Reform Establishment helps. It also helps that competition has turned to cooperation between the Jewish Agency and Nefesh b'Nefesh, a private not-for-profit devoted to marketing aliyah to North Americans.

As a long-time member of the Chicago Aliyah Council, I've been embarrassed over the years to hear the aliyah shaliach (emissary) from the Jewish Agency report on the number of olim (emigrants to Israel) coming from the Orthodox world (most) and from the Reform world (negligible). Now our aliyah shlichah (feminine form of shaliach, since that's who we currently have here in the Midwest, along with a female Consul General) has a different story to tell. The times, they are a-changing - and if the momentum continues, we will change the face of Israel. Ken yehi ratzon - so may it be!

NFTY Freeze 2008

2008-09-09T20:53:59Z

By Carine Warsawski
Friday, July 25, 2008, is a day that 320 NFTY in Israel participants will never forget. That Friday was truly unique as NFTY made history in the Land of Israel. In New York City there is a group called Improv Everywhere that facilitated a 200 person freeze in Grand Central Station together for five minutes just for fun. Since then, the "Freeze" has been imitated all over the US and in 34 countries around the world. And for the last three months, my personal goal for the summer had been to recreate this spectacular street scene in Israel with our NFTY participants. So we did.

Our mission was simple: To create a scene of fun and confusion in an urban public area by freezing in place for three minutes...in Israel.

The location was indisputable: The tayellet (boardwalk) along the beach in Tel Aviv across from the Opera House on Allenby St. A prime junction for shoppers, beachgoers, and joggers alike, this boardwalk is one of the social hubs of this modern city.

The day of choice was obvious: Friday, the beginning to the weekend, a half day of work for most, providing the perfect opportunity for Tel Avivniks to catch some rays at the beach and roam the beautiful boardwalk before the start of Shabbat.

At 1:15 pm all 320 kids and staff met at the beach in Tel Aviv near our location of artful attack. We gathered on the roof of a beach side restaurant to synchronize our watches and cell phones and review our strategy. Once everyone was in sync, we laid out the plan: disperse ourselves to clandestinely hang out around the beach and tayellet until 1:45 pm.

On the second, everyone would freeze in place in a natural position - mid movement - for three minutes flat. At 1:48 pm, our cell phone and watch alarm clocks would vibrate, alerting us to unfreeze and continue about normally. Groups 7 and 8 would roam the shore; Groups 9, 11a, and 14 would wander the boardwalk; Groups 11b and 12 would peruse the fountain and shopping area across the street.

The roles were assigned: Nearly everyone would be a "freezer." Clearly an important role, those who froze in place were responsible for setting the stage and conveying the scene. Their integrity was of significant importance, for without their commitment, the whole experiment would fail.

The second role was the reactor. What we created in Tel Aviv on Friday, July 25th was art. And art is largely about generating a reaction from its audience. Those who were reactors had the responsibility of walking between the crowds of human statues playing the innocent tourist, looking confused, and staging questions to passerby asking what happened to these frozen people. Was it something in the water? In the air? It was crucial to have these few people be the key folks in instigating reactions and noting the reactions of those Israelis who found themselves in the middle of the freeze.

The third role was the videographer. In executing an artistic masterpiece, it was important that this massive scene be captured on film for review, for show, and for fun. We had a few photographers and six video cameras roaming the scene: one on the beach, one on the tayellet, two by the fountain, and two on the roof of the Opera House across the street capturing a bird's eye view of the scene.

Ready, set, action. After instructions were given on the megaphone, all the groups dispersed to their respective locations to integrate with the crowds. Without any evident signal, 320 people froze in place in Tel Aviv for three minutes of motionless entropy.

The scene the kids created is simply indescribable; to have 320 people freeze mid action was an INCREDIBLE sight. The kids were amazing. I could write a book based on the stories of their poses and the reactions they generated from passerby Israelis.

I could go on forever retelling the kids' ingenious poses, all 320 of them, crafted so carefully, so creatively and so realistically, I was truly blown away by their teamwork and also their professionalism. And as proof of our mission's success, the Israeli pedestrians who happened walking around us at the same moment we froze in place had priceless reactions of confusion and anxiety. They kept trying to ask "What is going on? What happened to these people? Who are they? Are they okay?" yet our resilient NFTY superstars never so much as even cracked a smile. But you can see it for yourself here:

At the three minute mark our cell phones buzzed in our pockets, signaling everyone to causally resume their lives. Everyone kept on walking as if nothing happened, denying that anything had even happened. It was perfect. The kids did a phenomenal job and will hopefully remember this event for a long time to come.

IMPJ Says Thank You

2008-08-14T00:34:17Z

By dcc
Last week Iri Kassel, executive director of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, sent the North American Reform Movement a thank you note for starting the Movement wide IMPJ Emergency Campaign. On behalf of the entire IMPJ he thanked us for coming through in the clutch to help save the Reform Movement in Israel.

In just the first few weeks of this project, we have raised $225,000 to support our growing Israeli Movement. The economic hardships of the IMPJ could not have come at a worse time, explains Kassel. As he mentions in his letter, we have a closing window of opportunity to increase the presence and strength of the Israeli Reform Movement, both socially and politically.

So on behalf of all of us here in North America you are welcome and thank you for your work to further the cause of Reform Judaism in the Jewish State. (Letter after the jump)

Dear Friends and Partners,

A few days ago we received a substantial sum of money that was raised through the initiative of the leadership of the Union, HUC, WUPJ, ARZA and ARZA - Canada.

In the name of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism (IMPJ) I thank you for this initiative. Your commitment to our Movement and your proven support of it are greatly appreciated.

Lately we have been witnessing the fruitful results of many years of hard work, as it is becoming clear that our contribution to Israeli society is substantial.

Today, of all times, when we have a window of opportunity--which will not stay open forever--we find ourselves in a situation in which we are prevented from meeting our challenges because of a severe lack of financial resources.

As a result of the devaluation of the US dollar we were forced to cut down our budget. Your kind donation will enable us to reduce the damage and to continue in our ongoing efforts to strengthen Reform Judaism in Israel through our synagogues, congregational activities, education, advocacy and tikkun olam.

The future of Progressive Judaism in Israel will have an effect on the entire Jewish world. We must do all it takes to continue our work and overcome the difficulties, and your involvement helps us to do this.

We appreciate your partnership and thank you for your care and efforts.

B'Vracha (with blessing),
Iri Kassel
Executive Director

On wrestling

2008-08-04T19:11:43Z

By Jennifer Gubitz
As a child, I was never much of a hugger. I preferred to neither give nor receive much affection from my immediate family, except for from my mom's mother - Bubbe Schwartz. I'd like to say that I remember vividly that we were inseparable, although nearly 20 years later I cannot be sure if my memories are accurately my own or if they are simply reconstructions of snippets of information I was told.

My Bubbe died when I was in second grade and in her absence, I eventually learned to hug other people. Ironically, a strong and warm hug is something I have begun to crave throughout my adulthood. When parting ways with my parents before a long flight or leaving my siblings after a short visit - I sometimes return three even four times for one last hug. It has to be just right and until it is, I feel unable to walk away without looking back.

A lecturer at HUC suggested, "To be engaged with Israel is to be both a hugger and a wrestler."

As I have spent the past few weeks supporting various Jerusalem shopkeepers when I should be studying; trying to honor my commitment to eating one falafel a day before I depart; considering which pairs of underwear I'm willing to leave out in order to make room for as many Wissotzky tea bags as I can stuff in my suitcase; wondering which speed dial numbers on my American cell phone I will assign to my new and dear friends; pondering if the waitresses will miss my daily visit and poor Hebrew at my local coffee shop - I'm not sure how I can run back to each of these things and people for one last hug.

The doors to the plane will close even if I haven't finished saying my goodbyes. The man who sells lotto tickets on my corner, and sits with his granddaughter or daughter I'm not quite sure, only starts work at 7:30am. My flight leaves at 8am.

The parking attendants and security guards who greet me daily at the HUC garage will probably want at least one hug before I go. If I don't show up for my flight, the airline will call my name over the loud speaker until someone tells them I'm busy hugging the guy who cleans my laundry on Azza Street with sensitive detergent because I have bad allergies.

I understand that Jews are wrestlers. I understand that it was a wrestling match won by our forefather Jacob that gave him his new name with the heavy yoke of parenting the children of Israel.

I wonder though what would have happened if he had just hugged his wrestling opponent? What would have happened if he had just hugged Esau? What if Cain had embraced Abel and Isaac hugged Ishmael?

Wrestling is exhausting.

Hugging is invigorating.

Jennifer Gubitz is a second year rabbinic student at HUC-JIR in New York City. She is currently serving as the Education Director at GUCI. You can read more of her posts on her blog "Living the dream..."

Life and death on King David street

2008-07-25T01:17:43Z

By Rabbi Michael Marmur
(First posted on The Jerusalem Post Blog)

For much of my adult life I have studied, taught and worked on King David Street in Jerusalem. It is certainly no ordinary work address. World leaders stay there - in recent months we have played host to Bush, Blair, then Bush again, Blair, Rice, Blair Carter, Sarkozy, Blair (I'm beginning to think that man has nothing better to do), Brown, Mc Cain, Obama - and that doesn't do justice to the tens of less famous officials - Fishing Ministers from Ruritania and Tax Inspectors from Uzbekhistan.

Then there are the Life Cycle Events. Families compete with each other to hold the most opulent and often gaudy events: barmy Bar Mitzvahs, wild weddings, and far from circumspect circumcisions.

And let's not forget the welcome crush of tourists, staying in comfort and often returning home with some expensive artifacts purchased at one of our street's many upscale emporia. More hotels are on the way, along with a plethora of swanky apartment buildings aimed at visionaries and speculators.

It is perhaps a surprise that one of the street's most famous and significant landmarks is the YMCA, an oasis of dialogue and culture and encounter and health. If you've never been, you owe it to yourself to drink in the architectural attractions, climb to the top of the tower, and stop off for a Pilates class at the same time. Jews and Arabs (both Muslim and Christian) feel at home at the YMCA.

Over the last years King David Street has also played host to the Annual Gay Pride parade. Visitors to similar events might mistake the throng of men dressed in police uniform walking by the YMCA as some kind of hommage to the Village People, but in our city's parade they are actually policemen, on hand in order to protect the crowd from the taunts of those who combine theological certainty with personal insecurity.

A variety of Jewish institutions grace the street: on avenues nearby some of the most important foundations and philanthropic agencies are to be found. AIPAC is across the street. The Gesher Institute is opposite my own institution, the Hebrew Union College, and our campus plays host to Merkaz Shimshon and Bet Shmuel - the world headquarters of the Reform Movement. In recent years an Ultra-Orthodox Yeshiva has opened up in close proximity. With the international center of Conservative Judaism a couple of blocks away, we are arguably situated in the most denominationally diverse address in the Jewish world. It is truly the High Street of the Jewish People.

The street is no stranger to acts of violence. The most spectacular and deadly event took place back in 1946, with the notorious attack on the street's most famous eponymous hotel. 45 years later, a planned suicide bombing succeeded in killing the man with the explosive jacket, but no innocent victims. And now, earlier this week, King David Street saw the second example in as many weeks of Tractor Terror. A man driving a construction vehicle started ramming and squashing vehicles, although he was killed before he managed to kill anyone else.

Five of my students were in close proximity to the attack this week. Four of the College's Israeli students were enjoying a break at a local café, and were afforded a grandstand view of the grim and swift proceedings. More directly still, one woman recently arrived from the US on our Year in Israel Program found herself directly behind the tractor. As soon as the gunshots began to ring out she took cover behind a tree. Once the emergency was over, she dusted herself off and went to her apartment. When I saw her soon after she was shaken but not stirred, and we spent some time talking about her road to the Rabbinate. For her and hundreds of others, the first Road to the Rabbinate is King David Street.

When I passed the scene of the attack a couple of hours later, an assortment of characters had shown up - a Government Minister in search of a photo opportunity, and some Kahanist crazies in search of a hatred opportunity. Chabad were also there for some reason, with a large banner promising Messianic days. Somehow the bizarre nature of the scene seemed natural in a road in which the incongruous is inevitable.

Those who try to bring death to this place of life will not succeed, even if (Heaven forbid) a future attack yields casualties. Somehow the untidy yet intense drama being played out in the street - Jews and Arabs, locals and tourists, Liberals and Traditionalists, wealthy and modest - must not be curtailed. It may have its tractors and its detractors, but the spirit of King David Street cannot be bulldozed.

IMPJ on the Brink

2008-07-23T19:09:12Z

The fall of the U.S. dollar in the last few months put the IMPJ, the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, into a financial crisis. RJ.org spoke with Peter Weidhorn, chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Union for Reform Judaism, as he and the other major North American initiated a major campaign to raise $500,000 in the next six weeks. To learn more about how you can help please visit the Union's IMPJ Emergency Campaign site today.

Another Shehecheyanu Moment

2008-07-17T00:12:03Z

By Judy Gangel
Until last week (July 10/11, 2008), I had, and still do have, many blessings to recall and for which I was and still am thankful ...but last week brought an incredible Shehecheyanu experience/blessing unlike any other...a moment that my former rabbi might have referred to as a liminal one...I floated back and forth over the threshold of the time of my youth (I am now 65, almost 66) when I was deeply involved as a proud member and regional officer of NFTY, and the present.

The experience/blessing came upon me during the live streaming broadcast from the HUC in Israel and from Masada, where my 16 year old grandson was a part of a NFTY in Israel experience (NO, it's not just a "trip").

As I watched on the internet (in spite of slight technical glitches), Dan Nichols and his band perform under the stars for 800 Jews, 600+ being NFTYites, most decked out in bright yellow tee shirts with NFTY IN ISRAEL in bright red on them(celebrating its 50 year anniversary coupled with Israel's 60th and ARZA's 30th), and realized that, at the very moment I was sitting at my computer in Randolph, MA, my older daughter, his mother, was watching in her home in Blue Ash, OH, and my younger grandson, 14, was at the NFTY camp GUCI in Zionsville, IN, possibly also watching (Dan will be performing there next week, according to the band's itinerary posted)...well it brought me to tears with the joy of l'dor v'dor...generation to generation...an emotion that had me back at the Eisner Camp in Great Barrington, MA, (during several occasions in 1958 - 1961) under the stars, celebrating kabalat Shabbat, or Havdalah, or in a friendship circle...listening to Art Podell on his guitar, later accompanied by Paul Potash, as we sang all the NFTY favorites!

This is, to me, the essence of who I am and what is my bashert in life...using my memories to help pass on to my family (and, as a Judaica retailer for simply the love of it) to anyone else who expresses a desire to know or understand...the meaning and joy of being a Jew and also being able to feel a unique camraderie/bond in instances like the one I just described.

The fact that in this day and age, such a connection can occur simultaneously in three or four different places in the world.......
WOW... Baruch ata Adonai, Elohenu Melech haolam shehecheyanu, vkiyamanu, vehigyanu lazman hazeh! AMEN!

(This post was originally a comment on the Gardening Grandma's post A Shehecheyann Moment)

Modes of Travel

2008-07-07T17:02:44Z

By Larry Kaufman
From my first visit to Israel, some thirty-three years ago, one of my strongest memories is the guide telling our group at the beginning of the tour, "You come to Israel as tourists; you will leave as pilgrims." And so it was.

We Jews have given new meaning to the phrase, the wandering Jew. Last year we went around the world - this year we want to go somewhere else. That's why you can walk off a cruise ship in Sitka, Alaska, into a jewelry store where you will be greeted by a Frank Meisler Chanukah menorah.

For that matter, that's why so many cruise ships have a resident rabbi among their amenities. We wander the world, in search of the exotic, the luxurious, the historic, the unfamiliar - although sometimes, when we begin to get homesick, it's the familiar that beckons to us. And many of us, wherever in the world we may travel, seek out the Jewish points of interest.

In addition to the places we travel on business, or to attend meetings, or as tourists, in recent years we have become habituated to a new mode of travel, the mission. I credit its development to our Jewish federations, but the idea has been widely emulated among other Jewish organizations, including those of the Reform movement.

Missions let us travel abroad, without appearing to be too self-indulgent. We still get the five-star hotels, the red carpet treatment, and a view of the key sights at the destination sites - but we also get off-the-record briefings from important officials, behind-the-scenes glimpses of places we are assured ordinary tourists don't get to see - and of course, the opportunity to make a contribution to the organization which is shepherding us.

But while we hear about individual travel, synagogue and other group tours, and missions, and despite what that Israeli guide told us in 1975, we don't hear very much about pilgrimages. Without going to the dictionary to see what Mr. Webster would say, I'm defining a pilgrimage as a trip with an overtly religious or sacred purpose. For the Muslim, it's the obligatory trip to Mecca; for the Catholic, the visit to Rome.

I believe it's time for serious Jews, regardless of denomination, to revive the idea of pilgrimage, as mitzvah, sacred obligation. We no longer have to go to Jerusalem three times a year to bring sacrifices to the temple. But it should be incumbent on each of us, at least once in our lifetime, to go to Jerusalem to encounter the sacred. And as we were reminded by JanetheWriter's moving account of her visit to Auschwitz, we should view that trip, too, as mandatory - as a sacred obligation - as a pilgrimage.

As it happened, my own visit to Auschwitz was my fourth camp. I had been to Dachau, Terezin, and Buchenwald, in an escalating sequence of horrors - and Buchenwald on a snowy November afternoon is about as depressing a sight as anything I can imagine. But Auschwitz stands alone in terms of the symbolic weight it carries.

You will not enjoy your visit - but that's the point. Not all of our personal travel should be for pleasure, or for intellectual stimulation. The pilgrimage to Jerusalem can have pleasure and intellectual stimulation as side benefits. That the journey to Auschwitz does not offer those side benefits doesn't make it any less obligatory. It is part of knowing who we are, and who we might have been.

At least we know when we pass under the words Arbeit Macht Frei, that we will be free to leave, pointed in the direction of better understanding and becoming who we should be.

Let Freedom Ring

2008-07-04T12:46:56Z

By JanetheWriter
Every night when I was growing up, after I'd said goodnight to my father, my mother tucked me into bed. When she did so on this date 32 years ago, she said, "Today is a great day to be an American and it's a great day to be a Jew."

Earlier that day, my sister, my father and I had decked out the family car--an early 1970-something olive green hardtop Mercury Monterey--with red, white and blue streamers, transforming it into a showpiece to be driven in our small town's Bicentennial parade.

After the parade, we returned home for a traditional summertime meal--hot dogs and hamburgers, corn on the cob, watermelon and lemonade. Community-wide fireworks followed, made all the louder and brighter because it was the Bicentennial.

Yes, indeed, it was a great day to be an American.

While we were marching in the parade, eating hot dogs, and reveling in 200 years of freedom from British rule, halfway around the world a different fight for freedom was taking place at Entebbe International Airport in Uganda.

There, IDF soldiers under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Yonatan "Yoni" Netanyahu were raiding the airport to rescue 100 Air France passengers who were being held hostage after their Paris-bound flight on its first leg from Tel Aviv to Athens was hijacked by PLO terrorists and diverted to Uganda.

During the 35-minute battle in which nearly all the hostages were rescued, the Israelis gunned down 20 Ugandan soldiers and all seven hijackers. Sadly, three hostages and the raid's commander lost their lives. As events unfolded, the world was awed by Israel's determination and chutzpah.

Yes, indeed, it was a great day to be a Jew.

Since that day a generation ago, we Americans have learned firsthand what Israelis have long known about terrorist attacks, and what they mean for freedom. Today, as we acknowledge and celebrate our uniquely American freedoms, let us remember, too, to vigilantly defend all our liberties--both for ourselves and for those whose rights are quite often and quite easily trampled. Only then will freedom truly ring throughout our land.

Rabbi Yoffie Live from Israel

2008-06-30T22:37:34Z

By Rabbi Eric H. Yoffie
I have just returned from a week in Israel. I met privately with Foreign Minister Tsippi Livni, Leader of the Opposition Benjamin Netanyahu, and a half dozen other ministers and Knesset members. I also joined a small delegation of Jewish Agency leaders for a meeting with Prime Minister Olmert. In addition, of course, I had extensive meetings with leaders of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism.

A few impressions: In many ways, Israel's situation has never been better. Unemployment is the lowest in 20 years. The economy grew at a rate of more than 5% for the first quarter of 2008. The hotels are full and tourism is at an all-time high. Reform congregational groups are everywhere, and I was delighted to meet Reform congregational leaders and rabbis wherever I turned. On the political front, a ceasefire is in place in Gaza, Israel is negotiating with Syria, and there has been quiet on the northern border for almost two years.

But...the mood in the country is at best cautious and at worst skeptical and sour. The current government is a moderate one, but its leaders - Olmert, Livni, and Ehud Barak - are at each other's throats, and the Prime Minister, who is under investigation for corruption, is not expected to survive for very long. There are many reasons to support the ceasefire, but there are reasons to question it as well, and the country is deeply divided. In addition, Hizbollah in the north continues to strengthen its position, and hovering in the background, always, is the growing threat from Iran.

During my stay, a debate over Israeli hosatages held by Hamas and Hizbollah was raging. Had Israel done enough to get back Shalit, Goldwasser, and Regev? Should Israel pay the outrageous price that her enemies were demanding for their return? With regard to Gilad Shalit, did it make sense - morally and practically - to hand over hundreds of Palestinian prisoners to Hamas, including convicted murderers, to get back a single Israeli soldier? The debate on these issues was intense, passionate, often bitter, and completely unpredictable; hawks and doves were on both sides of the question.

My thought throughout was that nowhere else but in the Jewish state would a debate of this type even take place.

The Reform movement in Israel continues to thrive. The Israeli rabbinic program of the Hebrew Union College will be admitting 10 students this year, its biggest class ever. The major problem for our congregations and other movement institutions is an economic one not of their own doing. The collapse of the dollar vis-à-vis the shekel has led to an economic crisis with which we are currently struggling. The leadership of our Union, together with our sister institutions here in North America, will be offering some proposals in the near future to help deal with the crisis.

In the meantime, the people and the State of Israel remain in our thoughts and our prayers.

Josh Levin on Reform Judaism

2008-06-30T22:17:30Z

By David A.M. Wilensky
As readers of Reform Judaism magazine will recall, the RJ magazine's summer 2008 issue included a series of important questions regarding the Reform Movement and their answers as given by 30 adult members of the Reform Movement.

I'm currently at the URJ Kutz Camp with a group of people who will be the future lay and professional leadership of the Reform movement in North America. I'll be using many of them as well as many of the younger Kutz staff members this summer in a series of posts here on the RJ.org blog, in which I will be asking Reform high school and college students (and perhaps a few 20-somethings) for their take on Reform Judaism via questions similar to those used in the magazine.

Josh Levin lives in Sarasota, Florida. He is a senior in high school. This year Josh will be the Religious and Cultural Vice President for the North American Federation of Temple Youth's Southern Tropical Region. Josh has three summers of experience at the Kutz, NFTY's Campus for Reform Jewish Teens. Next year, he plans to attend the University of Florida.

What is significant about Reform Judaism? What sets us apart from other North American Jewish movements? How does that make us stronger? How does it make us weaker?
As Reform Jews, we need not feel obligated to our religion or yearn to fulfill every commandment (especially those we take moral issue with, see animal sacrifice or stoning). We need only take what connects us to Judaism and the Jewish people in modern times. This makes us stronger as we are forced to think and to choose for ourselves what from our tradition is for us in a modern world and what from our tradition is not, while maintaining that tradition for the next generation.

Why are you a Reform Jew? "Because my parents are" is a valid answer. If it is because your parents Reform, what has kept you involved in Reform Judaism?
My parents are Reform. More specifically, my mom wanted to convert, but not to orthodoxy. Reform was the obvious choice. My ability to choose for myself and life as a modern person while maintaining my Judaism and connection to the Jewish people has kept me Reform.

Do you believe in God?
Yes.

How do you feel about Reform synagogue worship (or worship you've experienced through NFTY or Kesher or here or at other URJ camps) as it's practiced today?
The traditions are varied and widespread. That is one of the incredible parts of the Reform movement: there is no "right" way to conduct a prayer service. The only issue is people not understanding why the tradition is what it is, wherever they are praying.

Is social action central to your identity as a Reform Jew?
Social action is central to my identity as a person. Simply the experience of being a human being means to me that I should support other people. Being a Reform Jew, I feel especially responsible to other Jews. "All Israel is Responsible for One Another" is one of my guiding principles as a Reform Jew.

Was the Bible written by God?
No.

How do you reconcile Torah teachings that may be inconsistent with your beliefs today?
Torah is an ancient book fundamental to the survival of the Jewish people. But I have quite a bit of faith in the documentary hypothesis, so it is not a huge issue to me that Torah and the life standards of an ancient time past do not apply today.

Do you believe God hears our prayers?
Yes. But it is up to us to carry out our own goals and dreams we contain in our prayers or we will be doomed to a passive life without any of those prayers being fulfilled.

When do you most experience or feel closest to God?
I feel that by creating good we bring ourselves closer to the divine, as everything God created was supposedly good. So by taking responsibility for my own creation, I feel closest to God.

Is the State of Israel important to you and to your Jewish identity?
It is paramount in both. Most peoples of the world have a state belonging to them. This is true for the Jewish nationality as well. Only thanks to Israel is it easy to understand "Jewish" as a nationality and us, Jews, as a people with a bond stronger than religion.

Looking to the future, what are the most significant challenges we face, as a Movement and as North American Jews?
Not speaking Hebrew, having a poor Jewish history education, and living in America without visiting Israel are the three issues of American Jewry that will connect us less to the Jewish people and more to the American people (or Canadian people). If that trend continues, it will become harder for Jews living in America to identify themselves that way and easier and easier to just be American. Assimilation, for all intents and purposes, is the biggest threat to American Jews.

Jade Sank on Reform Judaism

2008-06-25T21:26:07Z

I'm currently at the URJ Kutz Camp with a group of people who will be the future lay and professional leadership of the Reform movement in North America. I'll be featuring many of them as well as many of the younger Kutz staff members this summer in a series of posts here on the RJ.org blog, in which I will be asking Reform high school and college students (and perhaps a few 20-somethings) for their take on Reform Judaism via questions similar to those used in the Magazine.

Jade Sank is a 17-year-old recent high school graduate. In the fall she will attend Hobart and William Smith Colleges in Geneva, New York. Jade was a member of NFTY-GER, serving as the 2007-2008 NFTY-GER Secretary. She attended the URJ Kutz Camp in the summer of 2006 and the Urban Mitzvah Corps in the summer of 2007. This summer, she is hard at work as a member of the Avodah staff of the URJ Kutz Camp.

What has belonging to a congregation (or a Temple Youth Group or a Kesher group or going to a URJ camp etc.) that is part of the larger Reform Movement meant to you?
Belonging to my congregation, my TYG, NFTY, Kutz, and Urban Mitzvah Corps has meant everything to me. My eyes have been opened by the millions of ways that I can get involved and make connections not only on a North American scale but a world scale. By becoming involved in many different ways I have achieved small goals that will eventually help the Reform Movement become stronger. The best part about being part of the larger movement is that through the small things I do, I will see the results on a larger scale.

Do you believe in God?
I used to have a very strong sense of God, but over the past year or so that sense seems to have become quite watered down. I would say that, yes, I do believe in God, but my belief is dwindling.

Do you believe God hears our prayers?
No. I believe that the reason we say prayers is for ourselves. Prayers remind us of our responsibilities to others, ourselves, and our traditions. When we say prayers aloud, or even to ourselves, it is like writing a sticky note to remind us of something important that we may forget in the scramble of everyday life.

Was the Bible written by God?
Absolutely not.

When do you most experience or feel closest to God?
When I am with a tight community of people who I know are experiencing kavanah. When others around me are concentrating and feeling personally spiritual, I feel more comfortable and more connected to the community and God. When people are paying less attention and are not interested or connected I feel awkward and further away from God.

What Jewish ethical teachings do you think are important and should be passed on?
Any teachings that have to do with tolerance, pluralism, understanding, and/or respect should be passed on and practiced regularly.

Is the State of Israel important to you and to your Jewish identity?
Yes. I believe that Israel is extremely important to the overall achievement of a strong Jewish presence in our world today. I think that Israel provides, quite literally, common ground for Jews all over the world.

Finding Real Peace

2008-06-20T05:08:02Z

By Dave Abbey

Real peace will come to the Middle East when both Israelis and Palestinians accept each other's story as 'legitimate'. People may have strong feelings about the 'other' side of the story but have to accept that each side feels it's case is the truth.

A two state solution is the only workable solution to ensure a viable Jewish state and a viable Palestinian state. Both sides have to make compromises which will 'hurt' but will bring a long-awaited peace between neighbours. An agreement on lands (more or less on pre1967 borders with negotiated modificationis); displaced persons (refugees); and Jerusalem (invariably it will not be an undivided city) with guaranteed access to all religiously-significant sites, will bring peace to that area.

Dave Abbey is a member of Temple Israel/Congregation Iyr HaMelech in Ottawa/Kingston CANADA

Strengthening Reform 1. Who Needs God?

2008-06-19T17:22:00Z

By William Berkson
As I was writing my second post on Israel and the Jewish community worldwide, the outstanding journalist and real 'mensh' Tim Russert dropped dead. And he was younger than me. That made me think: I'd better start posting first on what I think is most important. So here will start a series of posts laying out a vision of how to strengthen Reform Judaism. I would love your comments on where you think I am going right or wrong with this vision, and what you'd add or change.

So let's start, like the Torah, with God.

Who needs God? This may seem like a strange question within a Reform context, because Reform from the beginning emphasized God and ethics as the center of Judaism. But secular Judaism is the alternative on the 'left' of Reform, and as Reform is on the left of Judaism already, this seems a natural starting point.

I see that in the US there are now more than thirty congregations of Humanistic Judaism--a movement started by a Reform rabbi. The idea of this secular humanist Judaism is that we can have Shabbat and life cycle rituals, ethics and ethical training, and identification with the Jewish people without a belief in a God of any kind. In my experience a significant number of members of Reform congregations say they don't believe in God, so they are attending Reform synagogues for similar reasons. (See editor's note below)

The problem with humanistic Judaism is that human beings are not that great. That's only partly a joke. We know that people are capable of both horrors and heroics. Humanism relies on rationality to direct us in the right way, but reason is a guide, and not a judge. The idea of Reason as a faculty can judge the right thing to do is a debunked relic. Our ability to logically compare ideas and evidence is real, but that faculty of reasoning doesn't make decisions for us. For decisions, we need values, including ethical values.

Humanistic Judaism believes in Jewish ethical values, but has no foundation that inspires us to follow them. And that is the fundamental problem. Without God, Judaism can't inspire.

Let me explain. Ethical values are priorities that transcend "myself and this moment". All ideas of God in Judaism are the same way. They say we are part of something bigger than ourselves, more enduring than the moment, and give value to other people, and to what happens in the future.

According to the Encyclopedia Judaica, many scholars hold that the traditional sacred proper name of God in Judaism, yod-hey-vav-hey, is a 'hifil' or causative tense of an old form of the root for 'to be'. In other words, the basic idea of God in Judaism, as accepted by Moses, is that God is the one, common "cause of being." And in a famous enigmatic phrase "ehyeasherehye" [Ex 3:14) the Torah indicates that God is an ongoing, or eternal cause of being.

Depending on your other ideas about God this concept tells us that we are part of one plan, or are all part of one greater whole, and that whole not only includes our fellow humanity, but also history. Common ties that link us to one another, and the past and the future, are an underlying reality.

This vision of one God gives us a lens to view our actions as part of a common enterprise. The practice of Judaism in our relationships, in our celebrations, and in our study and meditations gives the opportunity to experience the holiness in our world and our lives. And that concrete experience of the sacred can inspire our thoughts, feelings and actions.

Now the question is, can we have a modern sensibility, fully accepting of modern science, and still accept a concept of God that gives us a sense of a Presence in our lives, and feelings of the sacred that inspire us and lift us up?

That issue I will take up in the next post.

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Editor's note: In 1994 the Union for Reform Judaism voted to deny membership to a Humanistic congregation because there is a distinct difference between an individual who does not believe in God and a congregation that eliminates the concept and word from its liturgy and principles. As Jonathan Sarna, a professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University, said upon the death of Rabbi Sherwin Wine, the founder of Humanistic Judaism: It "forced Reform Judaism to figure out what the boundaries of Reform Judaism were." For leaders of Reform Judaism, "that became the boundary. You could not be a Reform Jew and not say Shema Yisroel."

New Pioneers of Israel

2008-06-14T00:25:40Z

By Rabbi Stacey Blank
In Israel, even in Reform synagogues, most of the kids who have an aliyah to the Torah when they turn 13 are boys. There are very few girls. It is still not common for girls to have an aliyah to the Torah in Israel (though everyone has a party!). In a country where women fought side-by-side the men in the 1948 War of Independence, where women hold important positions in government, and where women run major corporations, it is hard to believe that girls by and large are not encouraged to enter the religious sphere.

Therefore, on the morning of Shavuot, when over 150 people crowded into the auditorium of Congregation Darchei Noam in Ramat HaSharon to witness a "class bat mitzvah" of 14 girls from a local school, this was a special event. For many of the guests, it was their first time in a synagogue. (Many asked which book was the prayer book and which book was the Torah). For most of the guests, it was certainly the first time that they saw a woman on the bima.

In pairs, each girl had an aliyah to the Torah and read about the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai in front of their parents, grandparents, and the boys from their class who came to cheer them on. Members of our congregation held a talit over their heads as they recited the prayers. All the parents came up to the bima to bless their daughters and at the end, there were hugs and kisses and lots of tears! When I blessed the girls, I spoke to them about how they performed these mitzvot in a way that shows how natural it is for women to read from the Torah and participate fully in Jewish religious life. On the other hand, we are witnesses to their pioneering spirit and they will pave the way for thousands of girls in Israel.

It was truly a joyous Shavuot in Ramat HaSharon filled with Torah and ruach Elohim, God's presence. It proved once again that we as the Reform Movement have a mission in Israel and we have a huge potential audience who are hungry for our message of equality, Jewish renewal, and tikkun olam.

Rabbi Stacey Blank serves as the rabbi of Congregation Darchei Noam in Ramat HaSharon, Israel