As I write this on Thanksgiving morning, there are many things to be thankful for: health, peace, family, community. I am, as one might expect, also a bit nostalgic, thinking about the Thanksgivings I remember from my childhood (there is nothing like Thanksgiving in New England) and a yearning for simpler days.

These last few days have been anything but simple as we have watched the conflict in Gaza unfold and now we have another thing to be thankful for this morning: a cease fire that has restored, at least temporarily, some calm to people on both sides of the border. No one knows how long this cease fire will last but we can hope that it is long enough for more lasting steps to be taken to make, if not peace, at least some form of tense calm take hold.

But, as I look back on this week, I still have some nagging questions. There are so many that can be asked but these are the ones that come to mind.

 

Why have we, as lovers and supporters of Israel, found it necessary to flood social media like Facebook and Twitter with constant statements of support for Israel? It is truly heartening to see so much support but what need is it fulfilling and what role is it playing as war moves from the battlefield to the Internet?

Why is it, as some have argued, inappropriate for those who love Israel to mourn the deaths of children in Gaza? Why do we not include the numbers of  children killed by Israeli bombs as fatalities when we talk about the war? Especially if Israel, and I believe this is the case, took great effort to avoid such tragedies, why do some people react so negatively when those who support Israel show sympathy for these innocent victims?

Why, almost 20 years after the peace treaty signing on the White House Lawn are we still, it seems, no closer to a two state solution which would end the occupation and give Palestinians a state of their own? Why are settlements still being built and why has Israel shown reluctance to do more to foster relationships with more moderate Palestinians?

And,of course, if there are questions for Israel and its supporters to answer, there are also questions for others:

Why is there still the need to argue “Israel’s right and responsibility to defend itself”? Why isn’t this just a given and why would anyone contest this point?

Why, seven years after Israel “disengaged” from Gaza, has  Hamas and other factions constantly fired life threatening rockets into Israel instead of building their own society and working peacefully with Israel to allow for more access and less restrictions?

Why do parents and leaders still raise their children to believe that the most important mission in life is to destroy their neighbor?

And, for both sides and their supporters, why do we keep going back and back in history to find the roots of this conflict? 2008?, 2005? 2000? 1967? 1948? 1918? We can go all the way back to this week’s Torah portion and the conflict between Jacob and Esau if we want to but, while context is important in addressing conflict, why can’t people start with today and look ahead?

Let us all take this Thanksgiving to cherish what we have and hope that others around the world will have those same blessings of peace and comfort. Happy Thanksgiving!

At this moment, the thoughts of so many in the Jewish community are focused on Israel and the conflict with Palestinians in Gaza. At this moment, I will simply offer a hope that a cease fire can be reached before there is more fear and more death. I certainly believe that Israel is justified in responding to the incessant rocket attacks on communities in the South. But, I also believe that this response is by no means a long range solution to the issues facing Israel and I hope that a cease fire will come sooner rather than later and somehow can lead to a Middle East free from pain and suffering. My thoughts and prayers go with those who are suffering and those in fear. May the new week bring new commitment to peace.

But, I have another topic in mind as I write this on the Saturday evening before Thanksgiving. I’m thinking about the other connection we as synagogues should be concerned with. In addition to feeling part of a Jewish community, we should feel part of the community of faith in the city in which we live.

As Jews, we have many issues which concern us and many reasons why we identify with a Jewish community. For some, religious faith, ritual and spirituality do not enter into the equation. But, for many of us, this is the primary reason for our connection with our Jewish community and if that is the case, it is critical that we feel part of a larger community of faith as we have so much in common with others, so much to learn from them, so much of our tradition to share.

Tomorrow evening, our Congregation is hosting the annual Interfaith Thanksgiving Celebration sponsored by the Interfaith Round Table of Washtenaw County. I love this event. It is truly a remarkable evening which has been carefully crafted over the years to produce an educational and inspirational experience which does not require anyone to compromise their own religious principles. The communal hymns and readings are chosen carefully to be comfortable for all. But, the highlight of the evening is the sharing of chants, song and readings from religious traditions, each chosen by the individual participants to reflect his or her religious faith’s tradition of giving thanks.

When Beth Israel hosted this celebration some 15 years ago, it began with a native American sharing a spiritual chant from our bima. Tomorrow evening, Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Sikh and Jewish representatives will share of their faith. And, in doing so, we will all be elevated.

I love our Jewish tradition. That goes without saying. But, I am fascinated by other faiths and love to experience that which is offered by others. If you’re in Ann Arbor, I invite you to come to the celebration at 7 pm. If you are not in Ann Arbor, perhaps there is a similar program in your community. I urge you to attend.

I am not naive about the conflicts that religions have with each other and I certainly know that one communal evening won’t end those conflicts. But, for one night, instead of concentrating on the conflicts, we will think of how blessed we are to live in a diverse country with so many different approaches to religious faith. And, we will realize  how blessed we are to live in a community in which we, as Jews, are respected and embraced as will be clear tomorrow evening when the entire community will come to our home to share a celebration and the reception which will follow.

I pray for  peace in Israel and Gaza. I pray for the children, the innocent on both sides who live in fear and  I pray for safety and security for our brothers and sisters in Israel. And, I pray that throughout our community and throughout the world, the different faiths will be able to share moments of mutual respect as we seek to transform this world.

This is my 50th posting on this blog and it could not come at a more exciting time. I will admit to being a newshound or whatever one might call it and will admit that I find elections, particularly presidential elections, enormously exciting. While I do not believe that clergy, those that serve congregations in particular, should “endorse” a candidate and I steadfastly refuse to do so, I also know that it is not difficult to make assumptions about the voting preferences of a person who, through their profession, has to take stands on particular issues or reveal a particular philosophical perspective on the world. Still, because I believe that a person’s vote is a private matter and because of how I and we at our congregation interpret the tax laws, I will not reveal my choice. However, it is true, that I like all of us, I’m sure have hopes for how the election plays out.

This is such an important moment for our country. There are many critical issues that have been placed on the table and many others which have been given less attention than they should (climate change being the most apparent). Whether the issue is the economy, health care, a woman’s right to make decisions in the issue of birth control or abortion, future supreme court appointments,  foreign policy in general and for many of us, relationship with Israel being critical, or so many others, we have a choice to make and we, as a nation, will do so tomorrow.

But, today, my excitement for tomorrow is tempered by real concerns about the electoral process here in the United States. Even if we set aside the fear that one party or another will attempt to in some way tamper with results or succeed in attempts to intimidate or exclude voters, our process is so unwieldy, with so many different types of ballots- and I should say here quickly that I miss pulling the lever that closes the curtain and flipping the switches on the machine but that’s another matter entirely- with so many legal questions swirling about early voting, absentee ballots and so many different methods to count votes, it is reasonable to be concerned that the election results will not be clear for many days or weeks. That is cause for great concern. Our nation needs to explore ways that our elections can be fair and open to all citizens who are registered or desire to be. I hope the fears are unfounded and that the election produces a clear winner so that we can get on with the business of addressing the issues of importance in our country.

I plan to get to my polling place well before it opens tomorrow morning. We have a very long ballot here in Michigan and I’m sure the lines will be long and slow moving- even then. But, it is not only for convenience that I want to get there early. There is a beautiful thought in Jewish tradition that we should be  zerizim lamitzvah- we should be eager to perform a mitzvah. Is voting in a presidential election a mitzvah? Absolutely- and not only in the sense of a mitzvah being a “good deed”. The word means commandment or obligation and I believe without question that even if we are not commanded to vote, it is an obligation to do so. So, I plan to show my eagerness by being there  right at the beginning and, as I do every four years (and should do every time but I leave it for the presidential elections), I will say shehecheyanu after depositing my ballot. It is an honor, a privilege, a sacred duty to vote and I hope that all who can will be at the polls tomorrow.

May our nation be blessed with peace, harmony and opportunity for all.

 

I want to follow up on my last blog post regarding Anat Hoffman with a thought that I shared with the Congregation yesterday.

Adin Steinsaltz, in his beautiful book Biblical Images, makes an interesting claim concerning Abraham. He says that instead of looking at Abraham as an innovator, one who brought a new idea- monotheism- to the world, we should see him as a “renovator”, one who brought people back to an idea which existed before. He says that the stories in the Torah which precede the story of Abraham’s “mission” presume a belief in one God. He also says that a belief in one God is in fact more primal, more basic to the human being than a belief in many Gods.

Whether we agree or not, he brings up an interesting point. Occasionally what we perceive to be something new is in fact something old and one who is viewed as an “innovator” is really trying to bring us back to something that existed previously.

I think that it is important to keep this in mind regarding the situation at the kotel for two reasons. First, the fact is that while the situation for those who wish to practice a Judaism which is egalitarian was not ideal in Jerusalem, it wasn’t too long ago that there was less conflict and more of an somewhat “laissez faire” attitude towards such action than there seems to be now.

In 1984, I led a group to Israel for the first time and we had an egalitarian minyan within the kotel plaza (outside of the segregated sections delineated by the mechitza, the separation between men and women). Honestly, no one seemed to care. People walked by our group and glanced and some looked disapprovingly but no one started any kind of trouble or raised an issue.

Similarly, on our visit to Rachel’s Tomb, on the border of Jerusalem and Bethlehem, we stood, men and women together, remarking on the deep meaning of this place and wondrously staring at the verse on the covering of the tomb, the quote from Jeremiah addressed to Rachel: “refrain your eyes from crying for your children will come back to you and there is hope for your future”. Now the tomb has been classified as a synagogue, men and women must enter and stand separately and the entire mood is different.
The way things were in 1984 would not be satisfactory to those of us who believe that Israel should encourage and embrace different approaches to Judaism. But, what is important to understand is that in some ways, and certainly in Jerusalem’s holy places, Israel is moving in the wrong direction, becoming more restrictive and less welcoming for those who believe deeply in progressive Judaism. Perhaps Anat Hoffman and all of us who support her are not to be viewed as seeking innovation but a return to greater respect.

And, the issue of innovation and renovation is important for a second reason. Our teachers at the Jewish Theological Seminary used to tell us that if Rabbi Akiva were alive today, he would be a conservative Jew. Whether or not that is an exaggeration, the basic point is true. Rabbinic Judaism, from the beginning, was based on the principle of innovation, on reacting to new situations with new expressions of ritual and law. The tradition of Rabbinic Judaism was based on the principle that Judaism was not static, but constantly being discussed, changed, pro-actively facing the present and the future.

The fear that Anat Hoffman’s actions  inspire among those who see only one approach to Judaism being acceptable and that being one which is the most restrictive and least open to more contemporary interpretations is dangerous. It flies in the face of the foundations of our faith which called for innovation and honestly and openly facing changing times. This approach to Judaism moves us away from what Judaism was intended to be. I believe that we should view Anat Hoffman and all of us dedicated to progressive Judaism as being “renovators” not innovators.

I don’t mean to imply of course that the Rabbis of the Talmud would have necessarily approved of some of the aspects of Conservative, Reform and Reconstructionist Judaism today. But, they would have, I believe, recognized efforts to help Judaism keep pace with the times with more respect than is seen today.

Unfortunately, and this is perhaps the most unfortunate aspect of a very sad story, I didn’t suspect even for a moment that the story was exaggerated. I read it and realized that it was absolutely true. And now the story has been told and retold and no exaggeration is needed to make the point. It is that horrible.

Anat Hoffman, director of Women of the Wall, an organization dedicated to bringing equality to the experience of praying at the Western Wall as arrested for saying the Shema at the Wall in a tallit with a group of women. She was, dragged away, strip searched, and thrown into a jail cell.

What can be said? What can possibly be said to make sense out of this horrendous, tragic episode? Nothing. It is further evidence of how far religious authorities in Israel are willing to go to ostracize, humiliate, and condemn anything other than one particular brand of Orthodox Judaism in the Jewish State. And, that is a tragedy, a travesty and a sin.

How do they expect Jews outside of Israel to overlook this? How do they expect us to continue to care about Israel if people who serve as role models for our children are beaten and humiliated for saying the Shema in what is supposed to be our holiest place? The excuse that women’s prayer is a provocation to others and therefore must be stopped is ludicrous. There are times where people must be told that their reaction is the problem. Anat Hoffman’s action is far from being an act of provocation. It is an act of commitment, of faith, of principle.

I only hope that some of the women who were there with her when this occurred, who are members of Hadassah, the organization which has done so much to build up Israel and support for her and commitment to her will ask themselves: What has Israel become? and will not let the matter rest.

None of us should.

In 1982, I traveled to the former Soviet Union and met Jews who were denied the right to worship, to identify as Jews. Many of the Jews I met eventually came to Israel where they knew they could express themselves as Jews in the way they saw fit.

What has happened to that dream?

An article appeared in the New York Times last week which I found fascinating and deeply troubling. The article concerned young Jews who are having numbers tattooed on their arm as a reminder of the Holocaust. Many of these young people are grandchildren of Holocaust victims or survivors and while I realize that it really isn’t my place to comment on how an  individual should react to this most tragic story in our history, I have some strong opinions concerning the story.

I find the entire idea troubling for two different reasons.

First, let me make a comparison. Often, people come into my office and ask me about cremation. Sometimes they have very good reasons for wanting to be cremated and ask me why we won’t bury cremated remains in our synagogue cemetery and why I find it so disturbing when Jews want to be cremated. I have several answers but I save my most emotional one for last. Imagine, I tell people, the Jews who were killed and bodies burned in the crematoria. It was the ultimate indignity that after all the suffering they endured, they did not have a proper Jewish burial. In the face of this, how can we, willingly, deny ourselves that proper burial that Jewish tradition dictates.

I feel the same way about the number tattoos. Tattooing is against Jewish law and while some people may not really care about this fact, I would ask them to imagine how those who held that law dear felt upon being tattooed by the Nazis. While obviously no one could even for a moment blame anyone for submitting to the tattooing when ordered so and while no one would accuse these individuals of transgressing Jewish law willingly, at the same time, for many this was not only a matter of persecution and a sign of great danger but also was the indignity of being forced to go against the  law they respected. In memory of those individuals, for that reason alone, I would counsel people against taking this step.

Then, there is the more general issue. What does it mean to remember the Holocaust? Are we, today, two or three generations later, serving history or the victims by this serious but only symbolic gesture? Those who feel it is critical to honor the victims or remember the agony would, it seems to me, be doing so in a more effective way by standing up for our people or by working for peace and justice and human rights for all  rather than to engage in this symbolic gesture.

I don’t question people’s seriousness in making this choice. And, we each need to remember in our own way. But,for those  who live in freedom to voluntarily choose to mark their bodies in this way seems inappropriate. We can remember without imitating, we can mourn without defacing our own bodies and we can work for better times for our people and for the entire world.

This morning, I sat down for a few minutes to read the paper and several articles caught my eye. First, the account of the horrendous, insulting and dangerous words from the President of Iran concerning Israel. Whatever our thoughts are on what steps Israel should or shouldn’t take against Iran, Ahmadinejad’s words remind us of the presence of real dangers to Israel and to our people and those words can not be ignored or taken lightly.

Then, I read two different accounts of attempts by Israeli political leaders to reopen the question of the West Bank and movements towards a Palestinian state. While I do not think that a unilateral withdrawal from parts of the West Bank is a positive step towards the future, at least it is good to know that some people are still talking about the possibility of changes in the West Bank. The continued occupation must end and there must be movement towards a Palestinian state for the good of all.

But, my major focus this morning as I read the paper was a story which concerned Yom Kippur. It seems that in one Orthodox synagogue in New York City, a “clinic” for lack of a better word is going to be set up in the basement over Yom Kippur which will allow those who can not fast to receive intravenous “feeding” of liquids and or nutrients to get them through the day without actually eating.

My first reaction at this was negative to say the least. The commandment to fast on Yom Kippur is cancelled out if there is any health risk and while Rabbis could debate on how serious a health risk merits eating on Yom Kippur, we always should be lenient in matters of “pikuach nefesh”, in matters preserving life. So, I thought, why would one even take any chances of this kind? Why not tell those who can’t fast that they have to eat rather than offer this solution.

But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that there is a lesson to be learned here. While I still believe that telling an individual to eat is far preferable, perhaps the point of this effort in this synagogue is based on the reality that the idea of fasting is so dear to many Jews, that they would not take the advice of a Rabbi to eat and would put themselves in danger. Accepting the Rabbinic opinion, and of course there is a debate on this, that intravenous feeding does not constitute eating, there is a real benefit to what is being  offered as for some, it will in and of itself preserve life.

Occasionally, I find myself too quick to dismiss those who in the Orthodox community for raising observance of the particulars of the law above more important “values” issues. and setting up such an arrangement in the synagogue seemed to be a good example of this. But, in this case, after my initial knee jerk reaction, I realize that helping people to observe a law which brings such meaning to them is to be praised.

If you need to eat on Yom Kippur, you must do so. But, recognizing the deep meaning the fast holds for those of us who can fast, if you can find some kind of a “middle ground”, how much the better. Kol HaKavod to those Rabbis who are helping their congregants do just that.

11 years is a long time. But, in many ways, those 11 years have flown by.

For those families who lost loved ones in the horrible attacks of 9/11/01, I offer my condolences and hopes that time has brought some comfort to you. May your loved ones be kept in the bond of life. May they rest in peace. May you find comfort and peace.

For those of us whose connection with the tragic attacks is less personal but still so strongly emotional, what do we remember, what does this day continue to mean to us?

I remember so well rushing down to my kids’ school where I was the mara d’atra, the Rabbinic Authority- as well as a parent- to calm fears, help the staff answer questions (as if any of us had the answers) and then to bring my children home as school closed early.

I remember watching TV some of the afternoon but feeling that, as hard as it was, I had to take the kids outside to enjoy the beautiful day and help them continue to have faith in the world.

And, I remember the interfaith gathering in the evening where I spoke about how important it was to teach our children to “choose life”.

It is unthinkable that we would not take time out on this day to remember.

But, it is important to note that time has moved on.

The memories of that day are still clear and they will stay with us for many, many years.

The lessons of that day can never be forgotten.

But, on this beautiful day in September, it’s appropriate that like so many of us did with our kids that day 11 years ago, we go out in the sunshine again and smile and continue to wish and work for a better world.

 

 

Those of us who are Red Sox fans are used to talking about the Sox from a theological perspective. For 86 years, it  seemed like we were subject to the Calvinist views of “predestination”, never reaching the pinnacle for some odd reason or another. Then, all of that disappeared in 2004 when a world series championship made us all believe again in the possibilities for redemption. 2007’s World Series victory made that point even clearer. All good things come to those who wait and have faith.

The past few years have been difficult ones and many people have asked me whether seeing the Red Sox so disappointing, getting into big money bidding wars with the Yankees and other teams, losing their “old towne team” image, watching overpaid ballplayers falter in the clutch and failing to make the playoffs made the two world championships seem not to be worth it. My answer was always the same: They absolutely were worth it and if the Red Sox never won another playoff game, I would be satisfied.

That was honest. But, at the same time, it has been hard to watch them over the past couple of years and this year, I found myself shaking my head with disgust as clubhouse dissension, lack of hustle and everything else disgusted all of us Sox fans.
Then yesterday, the Red Sox shocked the baseball world by engineering the biggest “salary dump” in major league history trading three of their highest paid players largely for young prospects. Ben Cherrington the general manager said: “we needed to do more than a cosmetic change”. Suddenly, Red Sox fans are energized again. Maybe the team won’t win and no question they will miss these great players but the games will be fun, the team will be young and exciting and who knows, maybe they’ll win some more ball games.

Cherrington said something to the effect of the Red Sox needed to get back to who they really were. That is the perfect definition of teshuva, repentance, so important at this time of the year. My team has said; “the way we’re going isn’t the right way and dared to make a drastic change”. That is teshuva.

Now, the only question is: how will they use the money they have saved? Will they make better decisions or, like most of us do, after the holidays are over, fall back to the same old routine?

Will this change be permanent? We can only hope. For them…and for ourselves.

When I began to write this blog, I did not anticipate frequent postings about the death of individuals I admired. But, in the past few months, I have written about the death of Andy Griffith, Ray Bradbury, the Red Sox’ Johnny Pesky and even the man who invented “Electric Football”. I suppose that when one reaches his or her 50s, it’s to be expected that one would learn of the loss  of childhood and adolescence heroes. But, there have just been too many lately.

What can I write about the death of Neil Armstrong? What can I say that hasn’t been said before or will be said in tributes in the days to come? What can I add?

Earlier this past week, I drove down I-75 to bring our son to school in Atlanta and when, on the way back driving alone, I passed by Wapakoneta, OH, I thought of the town’s hometown hero, the man whose intelligence, courage and strength led him to take those first steps on the moon after so many years of training and so many anxious minutes of life and death decisions as he took control of the LEM to guide it away from a rocky field. Now two days later, I look back on his life and recognize that Neil Armstrong was one of those rare heroes who deserved, but shied away from, public adulation. Humble to the very last day of his life, Neil Armstrong epitomized the pioneering spirit of the space program and the adventurous attitude that brings so much to our world while remaining in the shadows instead of seeking further spotlight.

I will never forget that day in 1969. Watching the grainy image of Armstrong walking down that ladder, not knowing what the lunar soil would feel like, going where no man had walked before, is indelibly burned in my memory as it is, I am sure, for all who saw it.

There is not much more to say. There is only admiration, appreciation and respect, for all he did and, even more importantly, for how he did it.

Rest in peace, Neil Armstrong. You touched us all.