Reform Judaism

Galilee Diary: Summer holiday II

2010-08-31T17:08:43Z

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

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...Zebulun did not dispossess the inhabitants of Kitron or the inhabitants of Nahalol; so the Canaanites dwelt in their midst, but they were subjected to forced labor. 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 1:30-32

Prague: We're not really into goulash, dumplings, and beer, but the feast for our other senses was satiating: cathedrals and synagogues, castles and bridges, monuments and art exhibits; you get a stiff neck walking around looking up at all the amazing buildings. To a layman, keeping track of all those dynasties and their machinations - and trying to keep straight all the different architectural styles in their chronology - can be quite daunting.

]]> As we referred again and again to the guidebook, and read the writings on the walls of the museums, we became aware of what we probably learned in 10th grade European History but forgot: like other peoples in central/eastern Europe, the Czechs have been involved for centuries in an ongoing struggle for self-definition. Already in the 14th century, the drama surrounding Jan Hus was not just about religious reform, but also about culture - Hus spoke Czech, and his struggle is remembered as national as much as theological. In the ensuing centuries there was a constant tension between the impulse to maintain and develop Czech language and culture, and the influence of German, which, in the centuries of the Holy Roman Empire, of which Prague was even the capital - and its successor the Austro-Hungarian empire - was the official language of the country. Remember the Habsburgs? This was their turf.

Finally, the First World War ended the "old order" in Europe, and the Czechs, like many others, became free to create an independent state (well, actually, together with the Slovakians, but that's another story) whose official language would be Czech, and whose culture would reflect a particular local identity and no longer be submerged or subjugated by German/Austrian culture. However - and the Czech story is not unique - it was impossible to draw ethnically "clean" borders, and all over Europe the Versailles Treaty left pockets of ethnic minorities inside states that defined their identity and culture according to the majority. Despite elaborate negotiations to protect national minority rights, minority-majority tensions throughout the region festered between the wars. Indeed, Hitler's excuse for annexing the Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia was the oppression of the German minority living there - and after the war the Czechs solved the problem by expelling the Germans in short order. This process of trying to match political boundaries to ethnic identities has continued, and in the past twenty years the map of central and eastern Europe has bloomed with still more colors, as smaller and smaller entities have become ethnically defined nation states. And the wars of secession continue.

There are still places where national minority cultural rights are protected by treaty, as we learned when we visited Slovenia on an earlier vacation. But after a century of bloodshed one is entitled to wonder if this system can work in the long run. What are the alternatives? Large political entities in which local ethnic groups have only limited autonomy, but not sovereignty (as under the Habsburgs, or the Soviets)? Relegating ethnicity to the private, voluntary realm, as in the US (i.e., no autonomy at all)? A patchwork of small, ethnically "pure," independent states, which seems to be the current trend? And if the latter, is purity possible? Is it worth the moral cost of the "cleansing" required to attain it?

What does this have to do with us? After all, the Middle East is not Europe (or so we keep being told); as Sharon's advisor Dov Weisglass famously said, peace will come when the Palestinians turn into Finns. Ask a Finn about the Roma (Gypsy) minority there and you are likely to discover that the dilemma of finding a model for the co-existence of different ethnic groups in close quarters is universal, and not just our problem. It was comforting to learn, in Europe, that we are not alone in our quandary; it was daunting to learn that the European experience has not yielded much applicable wisdom to help us solve it.

Galilee Diary: Summer holiday

2010-08-24T14:54:47Z

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

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It was forbidden to allow the posthumous destruction of Man, God, and - this even for the most secularist of Jews - that hope without which a Jew cannot live, the hope which is the gift of Judaism to all humanity. To deny Hitler the posthumous victory of destroying this faith was a moral-religious commandment. I no longer hesitated to call it the 614th commandment.

-Emil Fackenheim, To Mend the World (preface)

It was supposed to be simply a vacation, fairly last minute: we really didn't have the time or budget to plan a vacation this summer, so we found four days between obligations, added up our frequent flier miles, and booked a trip to Prague. We were looking for "escape," without email or cell phones, a different climate, different culture, pleasures of the senses. We had resigned ourselves to being surrounded by Israelis, as Prague is a hugely popular destination for 3- and 4-day packages from Israel. But apparently we were the last Israelis who hadn't been there, as we heard almost no Hebrew. And indeed, Prague is a breathtakingly beautiful city, where we walked our feet off, tried to keep straight the fascinating history, attended concerts, marveled at the architecture, shopped for souvenirs, managed to find decent food, and had a lovely time.

]]> However, in reading the guide book, I discovered that Terezin (Theresienstadt) is just 50 minutes away by public bus, and though I have never been enthusiastic about Holocaust tourism, we both felt the need to go. The trip is through rolling farmland, through a few not-very-prosperous-looking small towns, to a town built originally as an 18th century fortress surrounded by brick ramparts and a moat; later it was a garrison town, and then finally just a town of a few thousand Czechs, who were driven out by the Nazis when they converted the place into a transit ghetto. Today parts of the massive barracks and storage buildings are crumbling; some have been restored. Czechs have returned to live in them, and as we ate our picnic lunch on a decrepit park bench (communist era?), semi-trailers rolled through the town and locals passed by on bikes and tractors and cars. The place feels semi-deserted, and sad. We were accosted twice by drunken beggars. There is an impressive museum that documents the horrors of the place - and the triumph of the human spirit, the spiritual resistance to tyranny that was demonstrated in the rich cultural life of the ghetto. The tour route through town includes the cemetery and the crematoria that were built when the cemetery couldn't keep up. The whole day felt surreal, an outing in the country to a place of such horror, where innocent people today live their lives in the same streets and buildings. Your mind can't really put it all together, and the dissonance of different experiences and feelings is numbing. And then you go out to the weedy bus stop on the highway and take the 3:05 back to Prague.

That was Friday. On Saturday we went to services at the Altneu Schule, a synagogue built in gothic style in 1270, that has survived fires and floods and religious wars, the Holocaust and communism, basically unscathed, and is today the oldest functioning synagogue in Europe. It is rather austere, with wrought iron railings and well-worn dark wood furnishings, a high vaulted ceiling, thick walls, and high narrow windows. The walls are beige plaster and stone, with almost no decoration. I sat a few seats away from the seat of the Maharal, one of the greatest names in European Jewish scholarship (16th century); there were about 100 people altogether, pretty much filling the place. Most were tourists or expatriates, though there was obviously a hard core of locals (there are about 6,000 Jews in Prague today). I was feeling sort of emotional about the transition - visiting the crematorium yesterday, praying in a thousand-year old synagogue today - when the gabbai asked me if I would take the maftiraliyah (meaning, to chant the Haftarah). Not because I was a rabbi or anything, just because I was a Jew, a guest, who came on time and sat near the front. I felt like a bar mitzvah boy, hearing my own voice echoing in the gothic vaults, keeping the 614th commandment.

Galilee Diary: Red hot chile peppers

2010-08-17T14:40:20Z

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

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...We remember the fish that we used to eat free in Egypt, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic. Now our gullets are shriveled. There is nothing at all! Nothing but this manna...
-Numbers 11:4-6

Since my travel back to Shorashim from HUC is usually over the dinner hour, I often stop at the Jerusalem bus station and buy a falafel or shwarma (gyros) to eat on the bus. Last week, as usual, I placed my order for shwarma in a pita, and barely paid attention as the teenager behind the counter did his work, asking me mechanically, "Humus?" "Yes." "Hot sauce?" "Yes." "Salad?" "Yes." "Sauerkraut?" "Yes." "Pickle?" "Yes." "Fries?" "Yes." "Techina?" "Yes." I had him bag it, paid, and boarded the bus. I was pretty hungry, and was enjoying my feast as we rolled down the mountains toward the coastal plain. But as I got near the bottom of the pita (shortly before Sha'ar Hagai interchange), I discovered that instead of the timid half-teaspoon of hot sauce that is usually smeared on the humus layer, my "chef" had dumped in a healthy dollop, so much that the red juice was soaking through the pita, and my mouth was in distress, with no uncontaminated pita and little of my bottle of drink left to dilute the sensation. I was nearly half way home to the Galilee before the discomfort faded and I could think about topics other than my mouth.

]]> The hot pepper is a staple of the Israeli diet, finding expression in such familiar foods as the "schoog" sauce served with shwarma and falafel, "chraima" Moroccan fish, the little hot pickled peppers served along with humus, etc. Being able to tolerate and even enjoy this taste always seemed to me a sort of test of Israeliness, even though, in fact, there are lots of Israelis who have no particular affinity for capsicum. Actually, the use of hot pepper as a dominant seasoning is found in foods from just about all the warm countries of the world (South America, Africa, Asia, the Middle East) - it seems that northern Europe and North America are among the few regions where this taste is foreign. Be that as it may, for me (and I suspect for many other North American and European Jews) the challenge of "charif" (hot-pepper based seasoning) is primarily associated with the Israeli dining experience. As such, it fits in with a perception of Israel as a "hard" place, where stoicism in the face of discomfort or even pain is part of the national ethos - in dining as in history you have to be tough and keep smiling.

Whatever cultural value we assign to hot peppers, and whatever the global distribution of capsicum-based seasoning, one significance they have here is that they are firmly Middle-eastern, still one more reminder that Israel is where it is. However much Israel is dominated by Ashkenazi elites or influenced by American or global culture, we live in the Middle East, and our senses remind us of that as we experience the climate, the natural landscape, and the tastes of our surroundings. Herzl imagined it would be different, that the high civilization of turn-of-the-century Vienna would civilize the Middle East. But then Herzl was a product of the period of European colonialism - and he couldn't have foreseen how low that high civilization could sink.

On one level, it seems, Herzl's vision has come true: today Israel can feel like a pretty civilized, cosmopolitan place. You can get anything you want in Tel Aviv's restaurants. We grow our own caviar and limes, you can order a quinoa and cranberry salad even in the peripheral fringes of the Galilee or the Negev. You can get carried away with how sophisticated and high-techy we are, citizens of the world. And then you get a mouthful of pita saturated with hot pepper sauce that burns away your illusions and reminds you of where you live and why nothing is as simple as Herzl imagined it.

Galilee Diary: Pilgrims

2010-08-11T19:45:18Z

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

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And the Lord said to Abram... "Up, walk about the land, through its length and its breadth, for I give it to you."
-Genesis 13:14, 17

One thing that I remember about myself on my first visit to Israel as an EIE exchange student in high school is that I adopted a conscious policy of trying not to sleep on buses, but to look out the window, because I felt it was wrong to miss an opportunity to see the landscape as it went by, to learn the geography and the feel of the country. I think I succeeded pretty well in sticking with that resolve on subsequent visits, until my travel here became more routine and repetitive. But often, still today, even on routes I feel I know by heart, I really like to look out the window of the train or bus. As a tour leader for high school Israel Experience programs, one of the common behaviors that drove me nuts was the way the kids would get on the bus, close the shades, put in their earphones, and disconnect from their surroundings as soon as they could. I learned to give up on trying to wake them up to look at the interesting or important or beautiful views we drove past.

]]> Over the past few weeks I had the privilege of helping facilitate a summer Israel seminar for a group of young Jewish informal educators from the US. They were sort of model tourists, curious, thoughtful, never bored, [almost] never complaining, really committed to getting inside the complexity of Israel as well as to learning basic facts of geography and history, never at a loss for a relevant question to ask, open to the possibility of being moved emotionally by experiences that might present themselves. This experience helped me reflect on the nature of Israel tourism and the wide range of different responses one sees among the tourists who have been so ubiquitous around here in the past couple of months. I think that there are different components of the Israel tourist experience that are present in different degrees in each group and indeed in each individual; it is this mix that determines tourist behavior and response:

Pilgrimage: we travel to a holy place to seek a spiritual experience, a transformation, a closeness to something of deepest meaning - and this holds for secular Zionists as well as for religious Jewish, Christian, or Muslim pilgrims.
Vacation: we travel to get away, to relax, to take our mind off of the tensions of work and other pressures, to escape.
Mitzvah: we travel to Israel because we feel some kind of obligation - religious or Zionist - to do so; if I'm going to go to the expense of traveling far from home, as a Jew, Israel should be a prime destination.
Adventure: we travel to test ourselves, to find the authentic - which often means pushing ourselves outside our comfort zone, in food, language, conditions, distance from home, risk... Overcoming these challenges results in growth and empowerment.
Curiosity: we travel to learn, to gain knowledge we didn't have before; and in the case of Israel, the learning is often, intentionally, not only about Israel itself, but about Judaism, about our collective memories, our roots, our texts and practices.
Assertion of ownership: like Abraham, modern Zionists saw (and see) walking-about in the land as a confirmation of our connection with it - and possession of it.

Every tourist to Israel brings in his/her mental suitcase a different combination of these goals and expectations; indeed, sometimes they even conflict with each other. The more aware the visitors - and their tour guides, group leaders, and fellow-travelers - are of their different motivations, the more satisfying their Israel experience will be.

Jewish History, not Orthodoxy Defines Israel's Existence

2010-08-06T18:13:22Z

by Jan Lee
Originally posted on Suite101

Last month the Rabbinical Council of America waded into the fray concerning Israel's proposed conversion bill. The representing organization for some 1,000 Orthodox rabbis in the United States and abroad, it has previously called on Israel to review conversion procedures and treatment of converts in the country.

It is no surprise however, that after a record number of emails received by Prime Minister Netanyahu from Reform and Conservative Jews protesting the bill, and his subsequent decision to delay the measure, the RCA's "undiluted blessing" of the bill didn't appear to make front-page news.

Yet the organization's comments on why Diaspora Jews should take a hands-off approach and let Israelis sort out the issue themselves shed an interesting light on perceptions of Israel's identity as a homeland for Jews.

]]> The State of Israel and Diaspora Jews

The RCA raised a defensible point by stating that Israel is a sovereign state that "should not be subject to outside interference or pressure by other governments, religious bodies, or communal entities." As the world's only Jewish statehood however, it regularly is. Like every other nation on the planet, its actions and policies are regularly subjected to the microscope by other countries. It receives scathing rebukes when its decisions and actions fall outside the accepted norm of world opinion. Some would argue that it also enjoys a modicum of independence in determining the rights and responsibilities of its citizenry (not withstanding the challenges it still faces 62 years after inception, regarding its right to exist

The RCA uses this platform however, to suggest that Diaspora Jews should not voice opinion about the criteria that is used to determine conversions or protest laws that may one day may be used as a precedent for defining who is a Jew.

Orthodoxy and Israel's Identity as a Homeland

Israel gained independence as a nation in 1948 with the sweat and blood of Jews (and non-Jews) who saw its emblem as a Jewish state not as a way of defining the degree of a person's religiousness or orthodoxy, but as symbol of unity for all who identify as Jews. One can be certain that in the years immediately following the Shoah, the two policy questions that weren't demanded of potential citizens as a precursor to being allowed to enter the Jewish homeland were whether they kept a kosher house by Orthodox standards and whether they believed in G-d. The degree and ethnic customs of one's religious practice was not a criterion for determining whether one was a Jew.

Diaspora Jews contribute millions of dollars to Israel and organizations that support Israel's success as a democratic nation. They do so expecting little but the assurance that Israel will continue to be a homeland for Jews. But as a result of that tzedakah Israel's poorest citizens benefit. Funding in the form of donations from Reform, Conservative and unaffiliated Jews (as well as Orthodox Jews) each Rosh Hashanah and throughout the year go to support educational services, social services, privately funded soup kitchens and numerous other programs throughout Israel. In both direct and indirect ways, that funding provides support for some of Israel's most devout Orthodox citizens, many of whom do not work and make up some of the country's most financially impoverished communities.

The continued survival of Israel and that of the Diaspora are not mutually exclusive. Each helps define the future of the other. Without Israel, the Diaspora loses the reference point that defines its identity. Without the Diaspora, Israel loses its justification to exist.

Impartial Laws Support a Strong Nation

Israel needs strong laws to protect the rights of every future convert as well as every Jew. It needs guidelines that will ensure that the path to conversion and to citizenship is fair and clearly marked. Doing so will not only benefit Israel, but the global Jewish community by making it easier for potential immigrants to realize a dream of aliyah (immigration). But building a strong Jewish homeland takes consensus. It requires the consensus not only of its citizens, but of those who help to keep Israel's dream alive through the very blood, sweat, determination and vision that first gave Israel its birthright as a homeland for all Jews.

Parasha Re-eh: Wailing at the Wall

2010-08-05T16:31:51Z

by Larry Kaufman

As a word person, I am particularly struck by the opening word of this week's reading, which gives the parasha its name: Re-eh, See. We are accustomed to being told Shma, Listen, Obey. In this case, though, we begin with the visual rather than the auditory, See, not Hear. While Moses doesn't directly develop the idea of seeing as compared to hearing, he talks about things that can be better comprehended with the eyes than with the ears: the pagan altars which are to be torn down, the pillars that are to be smashed, the faces that are not to be gashed. But the emphasis on seeing rather than hearing is more mine than actually inherent in the text.

The parasha opens with a brief reminder that the people have a choice between the blessing and the curse, each attributed to a different mountain which the people can see as Moses speaks. Moses assumes, out of a sense of cockeyed optimism, that they will be smart enough to choose the blessing, and then sets out to tell them what that entails. The laws that are recapped in this sedrah fall into two broad categories: religious or ritual laws on the one hand, and civic or social laws on the other. I focus here on God's demand for a single place of worship after the people have entered the Land.

]]> Obviously the single place idea was expunged from Judaism with the destruction of the Second Temple, and actually the synagogue had started to develop even prior to then. But taking the parasha as a contemporaneous report, Moses, as God's press secretary, needs to give his conglomeration of tribes a common focus when they are settled in their allotted corners of the land they are about to enter. Scholars tell us the book of Deuteronomy was almost certainly written some six hundred years after that entry, with the people settled in an agrarian economy rather than nomadic wanderers. Knowing that gives special resonance to the authors still mandating support for the central institution, after it has become clear that going to Jerusalem three times a year is a strain for the tribes distant from the appointed place for sacrifice.

The authors of the Reform Movement's foundational document, the Pittsburgh Platform of 1885, forswore any hope or expectation of the restoration of a central Temple in Jerusalem, branding their congregations as temples to make that point clear. Yet the distancing from Jerusalem that was inherent in Classical Reform kept shrinking, and today we see our connectedness to Israel as a central factor in who we are as Reform Jews. But when we think Israel, what image do we see? Re-eh, Israel's most potent visual symbol is the Kotel, the Western Wall of the very temple we had put behind us.

We saw this dramatized recently when the call at the Wall was Re-eh, See. A woman is carrying a Torah scroll in this sacred place! This sight was deemed so offensive that Anat Hoffman, whose day job is director of the Progressive Movement's Israel Religious Action Center, was arrested. Anat is also the leader of Nashot HaKotel, Women of the Wall, which meets to pray there each rosh chodesh. Women of the Wall is not a Reform organization, it includes members from all streams, including Orthodox - and clearly what is important to these women is not the act of praying at the Wall, but establishing the right to pray at the Wall. And what is abhorrent to those who would deny them that right is that these women choose to exercise it visibly in a place the deniers have made into a visible symbol of misogynistic Jewish religiosity.

Re-eh, see us, the Women of the Wall are saying. See us in our tallitot and kipot, so the world can see you going berserk. Re-eh, see us in the act of prayer, even when you cannot hear us. See us play out this drama at the surviving Wall of a Temple we do not want to see rebuilt - and which, truth to tell, you don't either, even though you utter prayers daily stating otherwise.

So even if today Jews can present ourselves to God wherever we may be, Nashei HaKotel, the Women of the Wall, have focused on the Temple Wall to capitalize on the attention it commands, and to force people to see what they don't want to hear. Re-eh, See, elements in the Jewish enterprise have not accepted women as full players, entitled to fill the same roles as men, wear the same worship garments, read from the same Torah scroll, and do it all where they can be seen. Nashei HaKotel have co-opted the Wall because one picture is worth a thousand words, and this picture makes their struggle visible rather than abstract, dramatizing the idea that all are equal in the Divine presence. This is a fight about the women, not about the Wall.

I must confess that I am turned off by the Kotel - which has more and more become a combination of a Charedi synagogue and a tourist trap. Although our parasha tells us to tear down the altars of false gods, we elevate this particular pile of stones into an altar to a God that some expect will read and heed scraps of paper stuck between those stones. That's not my kind of God. I don't pray for the restoration of a central place of worship, nor am I interested in seeing the Kotel's restoration as a seventeenth century Galitzianer shtiebel. I am grateful that Jewish visitors have the access we were denied between 1948 and 1967, but our access is tainted by what we see there, and by what we don't.

Re-eh, See. See what use is being made of the Wall today - as a theatrical stage set for tourists, as a throwback place of worship, and as an instrument of protest. Although we have rejected the name the Christians gave this place, the Wailing Wall, it seems functionally to have become a place of wailing. The Temple, which, in the time of Deuteronomy, functioned as a unifying force has become a divisive one. As my grandmother might have asked, is this good for the Jews? And I will slightly modify her question and ask, how can this be good for the Jews?

Galilee Diary: An evening in Levinsky Park

2010-08-03T15:39:48Z

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

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"Peace plaza," "Peace market," "Peace square"... are found in every city large and small, and villages and settlements are named for peace, because peace is the "stamp" of our people, peace outside and peace within. For the Jews are a people who love peace in the world, and that is its desire and purpose - just to live in peace and brotherhood, each person with his brother and with the other peoples.... And since they came into their land they have lived in true peace with all the peoples and have dwelt in peace each person under his vine and under his fig tree in the land, with none to make him afraid...
- Elchanan Levinsky, A Trip to the Land of Israel in 2040, 1892

Elchanan Levinsky was active in the pre-Herzlian Zionist movement "The Lovers of Zion," and was a friend of Achad Ha'am. Ten years before Herzl's utopian novel Altneuland, Levinsky wrote a science fiction account of a visit to the Jewish state in 2040, envisioning a high-tech land with a rich Hebrew culture, in which various institutions of social justice have been re-created (e.g. the Jubilee year redistribution of land). Shortly after Levinsky's death in 1911, a teachers' seminary named for him was opened in the new Hebrew city of Tel Aviv. Levinsky College remains a respected institution to this day. Then came Levinsky Street, and Levinsky Park, located across the street from the Tel Aviv central bus station.

]]> When Israel conquered the West Bank and Gaza in 1967, the labor economy changed significantly, as cheap labor from these territories entered all the service and construction trades and agriculture in Israel. When the borders were closed following outbreaks of rioting and terrorism, these sectors suffered a severe labor shortage, and the government approved the importation of temporary workers from abroad. Thousands of workers from Africa, Asia, and Latin America were brought in by labor contractors, often under exploitative conditions; many lost or jumped their visas and sought to stay; many began families here. The seedy area around Tel Aviv central bus station, associated with poverty, homelessness, prostitution and drug addiction, became a center for this population, a strange foreign land where you can hear every language in the world except Hebrew. Periodically the immigration police make sweeps, the government debates the deportation of the Israeli-born-and-educated children of these "temporary" immigrants, and the agricultural and construction industries lobby for higher quotas.

On a summer evening, the broad lawns of Levinsky Park are occupied by the Sudanese refugees who live there (!), and by dozens of Chinese and Thai and African and Hispanic families bringing their children to the playground. Last night, the final show of the Galilee Arches Circus tour was held there. Twelve teenage circus performers from St. Louis and 13 Arab and Jewish teens from the Galilee Circus presented their joint performance - black and white, Christian and Jewish and Muslim, boys and girls, big and little - they went through their routines of tumbling, acrobalance, juggling, unicycle, etc. for an enthusiastic crowd that kept growing, as the music drew in hundreds of folks in the park, sitting, standing, climbing onto rooftops for a better view. A pre-teen Sudanese boy came up afterwards and managed "I want to learn" in English; we had to explain to him, in Arabic, that the Galilee is too far away for him to participate. It was the best show of the tour, as the performers were energized by the crowd, and it was a fitting end to a wonderful two weeks, classical multicultural circus as it was meant to be.

I wonder how Levinsky would have felt about the somewhat surreal picture in "his" park.

Of course, we haven't fulfilled his vision of utopia - but we still have thirty years to work on it.

Galilee Diary: Fringes

2010-07-27T19:35:07Z

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

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That shall be your fringe, look at it and recall all the commandments of the Lord and observe them, so that you do not follow your heart and eyes in your lustful urge.
-Numbers 15:39

Three stories, no comment:

On Rosh Chodesh Tevet of this year (in December), the Women of the Wall held their monthly morning service at the Western Wall plaza. This service, ostensibly religious, also has obvious overtones of political protest, seeking to draw attention to the unequal status of women dictated by Orthodox control of an area which seems like it ought to belong to everyone. One young woman put on a tallit, which aroused the ire of some bystanders who called over the police (of whom there are always plenty at the Wall), who arrested the offender and held her for several hours "for questioning" at the local station before releasing her. This past week on Rosh Chodesh Av, Anat Hoffman of the Center for Religious Pluralism was arrested for carrying a Torah.

Later this month I will be leading a group of visitors around the Old City of Jerusalem, and want to include the Temple Mount in our route. Not having been there for years, I decided I should make an advance review visit. So on a recent day when I was staying over in Jerusalem, I got up early and, on the way from my hotel to HUC, walked through the awakening alleyways of the Old City. This is a lovely time to walk there: the streets are mostly empty, the fragrance of fresh-baked bread wafts from the bakeries, shopkeepers are sweeping the pavement, kids are hurrying home with breakfast purchases from the local grocery, and religious Christians, Moslems, and Jews are on their way to and from morning prayers. I was first in line at the security gate to the Temple Mount, which opens for Jews at 7:30. After convincing the guard that this was an innocent visit and not a right-wing provocation, he waved me through with the warning: "Remember, no praying, and no entering the mosques; you walk around and you leave!" But the guy manning the x-ray machine studied the image of my backpack carefully, opened it, and pulled out a plastic bag. "What's this?" "A tallit." "Sorry, you have to leave it outside." "But I'm not going to pray." "Doesn't matter, you can't take it in." I tried to suggest I leave it with him until I finished my visit, but no way. So I missed my opportunity, on that morning, to tread on holy ground.

]]> Once there was a man who was very careful in his observance of the mitzvah of tzitzit (fringes - a small tallit worn as an undergarment). He heard of a prostitute in a far-off city who charged 400 gold pieces; he sent her a prepaid reservation, and came to the door. She let him in and led him up six silver ladders, through six silver beds, and up a seventh, golden ladder, to a golden bed. She removed all her clothes, and so did he, until he was wearing only his tzitzit, at which point his fringes slapped him on the face and he and his partner tumbled to the ground. "What defect did you find in me?" she asked. "I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you," he answered. She demanded an explanation; he told her about the mitzvah of fringes, and that his fringes seemed to him witnesses to his bad behavior. The woman gave a third of her wealth to the king, a third to the poor, and kept a third (including the beds); she followed him home, studied Torah, converted, married him, and they lived happily ever after. The beds in which they had not slept in sin, they slept in in holiness.

-Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Menachot 44a

Praying with Heart

2010-07-23T14:21:51Z

by Larry Kaufman

A highlight of any trip abroad is the chance to get off the tourist route and into the homes of locals. We've accomplished that in Israel by traveling with organized Reform movement groups, which typically includes Erev Shabbat services at a Progressive congregation, followed by dinner at the home of a member of the congregation.

While that opportunity was available to us on our trip this past June, we chose the other option, attending services at a fledgling congregation in downtown Tel Aviv, followed by potluck supper with the congregants. It was the right decision!

Our Kabbalat Shabbat was at T'filat HaLev, Prayer of the Heart, a congregation that was launched last year at Rosh Hashanah by HUC-Jerusalem rabbinic student Or Zohar, and that has met approximately monthly since. T'filat HaLev meets in a dance studio in downtown Tel Aviv, off Allenby Street - and the dance studio director plays an integral part in the service as she relaxes the congregation with a variety of motion exercises. The service is very musical - Or's primary vocations are radio broadcaster and musician, and he leads services with his guitar while his wife Feliza, who describes herself as a musician and voice movement therapist, functions as the cantor, singing and playing the harmonium. This video provides a feel for what the service is like. (This was not filmed the night we were there, but it captures the "vibe" we experienced.)

]]> T'filat HaLev has come into being with support from the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, and a combination of networking, word of mouth, newspaper ads, email, and flyers posted on Feliza's blog, Omanut Ha Emuna, which translates as the Art of Believing. Or and Feliza's musical group goes under the same name, and "seeks to investigate the relations between inner journeys and artistic expression. More specifically: Omanut Ha Emuna creates music that echoes inner search in music."

In some sense, the congregation grew out of the music (and, in fact, at its inception last year, it was called Shirat HaLev, the Song of the Heart. But it also grew out of Or's personal interest in Kabbalah, and his teaching of Kabbalah was part of the program during the early months of the kehilla (congregation) - now more traditional divrei Torah seem to prevail.

The music includes both familiar melodies and the Zohars' own compositions. According to Feliza, "We sound like we sound. Sound like ourselves. Some say that our music blends Israeli rock, Middle Eastern rhythms and scales, American beats and styles such as soul and reggae, as well as a bit of Far Eastern coloring."

Had we exercised our other option and gone to services at Tel Aviv's main Reform synagogue, Beit Daniel, we would probably have used the "official" siddur of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, Ha Avodah she- BaLev, The Service of the Heart, in a service much like those at home, aside from being all in Hebrew. (At least, that's been our experience at Yozma and Mevasseret Zion.) At T'filat HaLev, there is no siddur, only a photocopied program/song sheet, which Or explains as being less intimidating to his community of novice worshippers than a siddur would be - enhancing their sense of being at an event (Or's word for all of T'filat HaLev's gatherings - "tonight is our tenth event") rather than in shul. As part of the same approach, the service does not (yet) include Aleinu or the Mourners' Kaddish.

T'filat HaLev appeals to families, because child care is provided in an adjacent room by Mechina members (post- high school, pre-Army young adults, taking a "gap year" and doing community service). Nonetheless, kids - including Or and Feliza's -- run back and forth between the prayer room, where they are welcomed by their parents and others, and their own event. The congregation is heterogeneous, ranging in age from their twenties into their fifties, singles and couples as well as families. I doubt that they think of themselves as "members," since the concept of formal synagogue affiliation as we know it is a hard sell in Israel. As explained to us when we met with Rabbi Meir Azari, senior rabbi of Beit Daniel, his synagogue is sustained with fees for wedding ceremonies and b'nei mitzvah, as well as through contributions, not primarily through dues as in the American model.

Beit Daniel has established a unique role for itself in Tel Aviv/Jaffa, not only operating its synagogue in fashionable North Tel Aviv, and a guest-house/cultural center in gritty Jaffa, but also three public elementary schools in partnership with the municipality, integrating Jewish, Muslim, and Christian children under a single roof. Rabbi Azari and the congregation have taken T'filat HaLev under their wing, and in fact have granted a stipend to Or to build the new kehilla as a branch of the Daniel Centers, on the way to developing a multi-branch network model throughout Tel Aviv - Jaffa. T'filat HaLev benefits from Beit Daniel's organizational infrastructure and experience, and as part of the Daniel network is poised to work alongside its big brother on municipal projects. (T'filat HaLev has also received modest funding and generous encouragement from the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism.)

We American visitors were greeted warmly and graciously at T'filat HaLev, and more concessions were made to us English-speakers than I've experienced at other Israeli Progressive congregations. (Or explained that his group probably knew English better than we knew Hebrew.) But the hospitality and spirituality were the least of our take-aways from a remarkable Shabbat. It was exciting to see the response of so-called secular Israelis to a religious environment and experiment that broke their stereotypes and responded to their tastes and needs. It was satisfying to note that Progressive Judaism is now serving Israelis, not just American transplants. In fact, in developing its own modes and models of operation, it has set the stage for becoming our teachers, not just our students, at a time when we are facing the challenges of adjusting our own synagogue models to a changing environment. As financial contributors to the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism and the World Union for Progressive Judaism, it is gratifying for us to see the successes our seed money has allowed the IMPJ and its congregations to achieve. May we and they continue to be strong and to strengthen one another!

Galilee Diary: Shopping

2010-07-20T15:54:32Z

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

Now available from
URJ Books & Music

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They reached Wadi Eshcol and there they cut down a branch with a single cluster of grapes - it had to be borne on a carrying frame by two of them - and some pomegranates and figs... At the end of forty days... they made their report to the whole community, as they showed them the fruit of the land.
-Numbers 13:23, 25, 26

Since 1992, our seminar center has provided educational tours for many North American tour groups, to various sites around the Galilee. One of the "must-sees" of course, is Safed, the city perched in the mountains, which was, for barely a century, a major center of Jewish religious creativity: refugees from the Spanish expulsion of 1492 settled there and made it a hub of kabbalistic thought and literature. Among the well-known products of 16th century Safed are the Kabbalat Shabbat service and the hymn L'chah Dodi, and the major law code, the Shulchan Aruch. Later, Safed's economic and political fortunes declined, and it was destroyed by earthquakes in 1759 and 1837; in 1948 it was an Arab town with a small Jewish community, mostly ultra-Orthodox. The Arabs fled in the War of Independence, and new neighborhoods were built for new immigrants. For years Safed was a summer resort destination because of its mountainous location, but with the spread of air conditioning it was eclipsed by Tiberias, which, while hot and sticky, offers a waterfront. An artists' colony developed in the old city, which helped keep the town on the tourism map, but it has remained a "must see" that almost no one stays in for more than the two hours it takes to do a standard tour.

]]> In the 90s, week after week in July and August, I found myself trying to lead a busload of sweating American teenagers through the alleys of the old city (which can be romantic or squalid depending on your mood), waiting in line to get into old synagogues while trying to explain the significance of Lurianic Kabbalah and why these synagogues are important. This was frustrating, and so I decided to try a different approach, a self-guided tour in small groups, based on a mystery plot and short text readings. The game was pretty successful, and we still provide it now and then, especially for groups of families. Last week, I facilitated the game for a Reform synagogue group, on a day when the old city was flooded with tour groups, mostly birthright. The main alleyway through the art/souvenir market was total pedestrian gridlock - so much so that even in small groups it was hard to get around and enjoy the activity. The congestion occurs primarily along the main artery, Alkabetz street, a narrow pedestrian alley lined with souvenir stalls alternating with higher-class art and/or craft shops.

It turns out that history is OK, mysticism can be interesting, the mountain view is nice, but shopping is compelling. Bringing back souvenirs from Israel has a long history (see above), and while I have fumed as an educator at tour leaders who happily sacrifice important historical sites to leave time for a certain sandal factory outlet store, I think that the desire to bring back mementoes of a trip - for oneself and for friends and relatives - is natural and appropriate. Perhaps we educators need to see shopping as an opportunity, not as a necessary evil. Maybe we need to give thought to helping people choose gifts and souvenirs that will contribute to their religious lives back home - or will remind them of important experiences they had here. I figure if a teenager is so busy choosing a havdalah candle to bring home that she can't really take in the history of L'chah Dodi, that's OK in the long run. And if adult tourists skip the text discussion to choose a biblical microcalligraphic painting for their living room, well, it's not a total loss. Generally, we assume that "we are what we buy" is a negative statement; but I think we need to recognize that choosing what pieces of Israel to possess and bring home can be an important part of the Israel experience.

There is No Jewish Pope

2010-07-19T18:30:36Z

by Rabbi Dan Moskowitz
Temple Judea, Tarzana CA
Sermon given on July 16, 2010. Also available as a podcast on iTunes.

Tomorrow we will read Parshat D'varim the beginning of the last book of the Torah when Moses gathers the Israelites around him and shares with them his final words of advice before he dies. In that moment Moses reflects on how he did it, how he managed to lead 600,000 Israelites through the desert without them killing him or each other. And then he remember the critical moment when he asked God for guidance. He asked "Aicha - How can I possibly lead this people by himself, bear their burdens and bickering?" God said to Moses , "You can't, it would not be good for them and it would not be good for you, no one person, no one voice or opinion will suffice to lead this people." And God instructed Moses to choose wise, discerning and experienced leaders from the people and let them share the burden of leadership. Their first duties he explained were to decide justly the disputes between Jew and fellow Jew, to deal with the infighting that was overtaking the camp and the community. Because God saw that it was a cancer, like it the times of Korach, or Cain and Able, or Jacob and Esau and if left untreated would destroy this precious and chosen people.

On Tuesday we will read another book of torah, Lamentations; the woeful song of pain after the destruction of the First Temple and the dispersion of the Jewish people. Lamentations begins with the same questioning word Aicha/How?! But this time is God asking his people How did this happen? "How lonely sits the city [of Jerusalem], once great with people?! She that was great among the nations, has become like a widow."

It will be Tisha B'av, the 9th of Av, the day that commemorates the destruction of the first and second temple both of which our tradition teaches were brought down not by the Babylonians and the Romans to whom history gives much credit, but because of Jewish infighting, because of senseless hatred between Jews. Specifically the Talmud explains that it was because a certain man held a dinner party and an uninvited guest attended that the Temple was destroyed.

]]> Instead of welcoming this man as a fellow Jew and brother the host of the party berated and belittled the guest, paid no heed to his word of apology or contrition and kicked him out of his house insight of all of his guests, among which were many great rabbis. The Talmud explains that because the rabbis were silent and did nothing to stop this, the uninvited guest assumed they agreed with the actions of the host. This so enraged the uninvited guest that he went to the Roman authorities to seek justice and that action ultimately led to the Romans concluding that the Jews could not govern themselves. Further they reasoned that such a volatile group was an unnecessary danger to Roman interests and needed to be put in check. Therefore the Temple in Jerusalem, the center of Jewish life was destroyed and the Jewish people scattered to the Diaspora.

And there remained and did not return until 1948, when the modern state of Israel was born, on the heels of another great calamity, the Shoah. Led by the many Moses' of its day, Ben Guirion, Golda, Weitzman and others. This group too saw that Jewish infighting was the greatest threat to Israel's renewed existence, even greater than the Arab armies massing on its borders. As hard as that may be to imagine, it is true, Ben Gurion's great concern and the struggle of the Theodore Hertlz and the Zionist Congress in the decades before was how to get the Jewish world, let alone the rest of the world to come together in support of the Jewish state. You have heard the old joke 2 Jews 3 opinions, imagine the discussions on when and where to establish the Jewish state. In the final moments before declaration it was actually the question of how Jewish the Jewish state should be that nearly defeated the state. Specifically the issue was the inclusion of God in the Israeli Declaration of Independence.

The draft document used the phrase "and placing our trust in the Almighty". The two rabbis present Haim-Moshe Shapira and Yehuda Leib Maimon, argued for its inclusion, saying that it could not be omitted, with Shapira supporting the wording "God of Israel" or "the Almighty and Redeemer of Israel." It was strongly opposed by members of the secularist parties. The debate lasted late into the day and at times threatened to unravel the whole process. The room could not agree, should Israel be founded on a document that declared religious faith or should it be a secular charter founded on cultural identity, on Jewish peoplehood. With the hour growing late, and the deadline for declaration less than an hour away the phrase "Rock of Israel" was used, which could be interpreted as either referring to God, or the land of Eretz Israel, Ben-Gurion said to the assembled leaders of Israel "Each of us, in his own way, believes in the 'Rock of Israel' as he conceives it. I should like to make one request: Don't let me put this phrase to a vote." And it was accepted without a vote, miraculously a room full of Jews agreed to disagree the infighting was put to rest so the fighting for independence could begin.

Why the history lesson, because history at least for the Jewish people has a remarkable way of repeating itself. And as the philosopher Satayana taught, those who do not study it are bound to repeat it.

By now I assume that most if not all of you have heard of the crisis in Israel. Not the crisis of security and legitimacy that swirls around the Palestinian-Israeli conflict or the existential threat of a nuclear Iran; but the crisis of infighting amongst Jews in and outside of Israel. The crisis of the ever expanding divide between the Ultra Orthodox Religious community led by the chief rabbinate in Israel and the remaining 85% of the Jewish world, which by the way is all of us, that is being written off as irrelevant and written out of Israeli society as not Jewish enough to live in Israel.

Today, like in times past the question has to do with decides who is a Jew, with who speaks for the Jewish people and how we define 'Jewish'. Next week a bill comes before the Israeli Parliament (The Knesset) that would radically change the Law of Return, the fundamental and founding principle vested in the establishment of the State of Israel as an eternal homeland to which all Jews as long as they are descendent of at least 1 Jewish grandparent can return, claim citizenship, participate fully in society and live openly and safely as Jews. That criteria of one Jewish grandparent should be a familiar if harrowing formula, because it was also what Hitler used to determine who was Jewish enough to be sent to the Death Camps. Israel was founded by survivors of those camps, they knew what they were saying when they set that broad standard. For all their disagreements over language on this they never waivered, Israel was to be a safe haven for all Jews no matter the color of their yarmulke or even if they wore one at all.

The new law is known as the Rotem Bill for its sponsor David Rotem a member of the hard right wing nationalist Yisrael Beiteinu party. Yisrael Beiteinu is the same party that was elected into government on its platform of loyalty oaths for Israeli citizens. The Rotem Bill would give the Orthodox controlled Israeli chief rabbinate ultimate authority to determine who is a Jew and who is not. Specifically the bill would give sole authority to the chief rabbinate in determining what constitutes a kosher conversion, requiring converts to live an Orthodox lifestyle and mandating orthodox Jewish practice as the only legitimate form of Jewish life.

The bill however is not the real problem, it is just the tip of a much more frightening and dangerous iceberg that Israel and the Jewish people are hurling toward yet again with reckless abandon. The underlying problem is the real question: will Israel remain a democratic pluralistic state, or will it fall into the hands of extreme groups who run the government? This question, the nearly complete hegemony of the minority religious right to control and dictate Israeli domestic and foreign policy is at the root of Israel's deep internal conflicts, it underlies the Palestinian conflict, the settlement issue and the barriers on Israel's side to finding an equitable solution to the intractable conflict. It is at the heart of growing divide between the non-orthodox American Jewish community - the largest in the world and the current Israeli government. Increasingly they don't recognize us, our voice, our love, our support, our concern for Israel and we find it more and more difficult to see our Jewish selves in them.

I want to share with you a glimpse of just how deep this divide is, how painful the attacks, how injurious to the Jewish soul the views of the orthodox right have become. Yesterday Haaretz published an op-ed piece in opposition to the Rotem Bill. The response to the column was withering and hateful. A writer who identified himself as Rob a Reform Jew who had converted to Judaism and was living in New York wrote the following:

As someone who converted in the Reform movement, this law affects me directly. It basically says that to Israel, I'm not enough of a Jew, even after a circumcision, a mikvah, a beit din and years of studying and subsequent years of living a Jewish life. I feel betrayed by a country I have always supported, and cannot tell you how much this hurts.

Now listen to the responses to Rob post:

"Converted in the Reform movement?" Why should we pay for your mistake? Didn't your Reform "rabbi" tell you what you were getting into? Your conversion is not kosher why did you not go to an orthodox rabbi?

"G-d gave us the Torah and the Oral Law (which is now the Talmud). There are clearly explained laws that say a Reform conversion is NOT KOSHER. If you really care, you'll get an orthodox conversion. You can call yourself whatever you want, but you won't be a Jew until then."

Rob responded in the end:
God is the only one able to judge the validity of my conversion, not you, not the Knesset or the Chief Rabbinate. I'll be proud to be a Jew until the day I die, but I'm weeping for what the current Israeli government is doing and what that means for thousands of Jews around the world.

Aicha - how do we restore love, respect, tolerance and pluralism in the Jewish community?

Aicha - how do we not once again go down that road of Jewish infighting that leads to our undoing?

My answer is that when it comes to questions of the Jewish people, aicha--how can we the Jews of America, Reform Jews, lovers of Israel and Judaism, how can not raise our collective voices and say that great Hebrew plea of old, Dayanu - Enough already!

For the 2,000 years of exile we had no central religious authority. Each Jewish community, be they Sephardim or Ashkenazim, wherever they dwelled in the world, made their own internal religious decisions based on their place in the long march of Jewish history and their own reading of our Torah and traditions. Even Moses could not be the sole decision maker. He recounts in this week's portion how a system of courts was established to have justice be closer to the people, not vested in just one individual.

The proposed conversion bill, if passed, would formally legislate absolute authority on religious matters in Israel to the Chief Rabbis. With half the world's Jewish population and the only Jewish sovereign state in the world, such a decision has significant implications for all Jews. We have not had a central Jewish authority since the time of the Temples and Kings. There has never been a Jewish Pope and we do not need one today.

What we do need is an understanding that that there are many legitimate ways to be a Jew. We are not obligated to like each other or agree with each other and the Jewish decisions we make. We are, however, obligated to love each other for we are bound, each Jew to all other Jews, in an eternal Covenant within our own Jewish Civilization.

Israel lives in a tough neighborhood. She needs and deserves our complete support no matter where we choose to live. And, with that support comes the obligation to speak out about the major questions that affect the whole of the Jewish people. Israel needs and deserves our vigorous participation in the debate as to what kind of Jewish state Israel is to be.

The 10th day of Av, which is Wednesday, is also a critical day. It ushers in a period of comfort leading to the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. Let us pray that this year on the 10th of Av the Jewish world has had enough of the divisiveness that leads to destruction and that it has been replaced with comfort that leads to reconciliation.

***

Thank you to Rabbi Daniel R. Allen, Executive Director ARZA for the inspiration for this sermon and the closing paragraphs which are taken from his July 16, 2010 letter.

Editor's Note: Please visit the URJ's resource page on the Rotem conversion bill, and take action by sending your letter to Prime Minister Netanyahu and signing IRAC's online petition.

Our Impact on Blocking the Conversion Bill

2010-07-19T17:13:00Z

by Rabbi Daniel R. Allen
Executive Director of ARZA

In just a couple of hours Jerusalem will be filled with the readings of Lamentations. You have your choice of our congregations, dozens of readings at the Tayelet overlooking the Old City, the Windmill just off King David Street. You can hear Eichah with any accent- Morrocan, Yemenite, Traditional Ashkenaz, and American from the many, many NFTY, USY and Ramah groups that are here. It is actually quite a social evening after the readings as folks run into each other as they discover who is visiting, or friends who live here whom they forgot to call.

As we exited the Knesset earlier this afternoon I was struck by the fact that as free Jews, we could come and address our Jewish cousins inside the seat of a sovereign Jewish state on matters of Klal Yisrael. On the eve of recalling destruction, despite all the controversies, complaints and difficult conditions both for Israel and for our issues in Israel, we, all of us, can participate in Jewish life in a way not seen for 2,000 years.

]]> On the wall of my parents apartment in Jerusalem there has hung a telegram for many years. It is dated 29 November 1947 and is from Harry Shapiro, the President of the American Zionist Organization. It reads, in part, "We have won the vote and now the hard work begins."

Well, we think we might have won the day. As the afternoon ended the odds were quite good that there is to be what I call hafsak aish -- a cease fire -- on the Conversion Bill for a few months. The last obstacle is an evening meeting between the Prime Minister and Avigdor Lieberman to hammer out their differences so that the coalition can remain intact. The noises today have been mutually conciliatory. Nothing is definite until the final moments, both tonight and until the Knesset adjourns on Wednesday.

Once the picture is fixed the hard work indeed will begin. How to engage all those we have met and lobbied for the long run? What is our ARZA/IMPJ/Reform Movement strategy writ large? What is the neccessary division of labor including ongoing internal communications? How do we maintain the coalition with Masorti/Conservative Movement and the Federations? We do not all share all the same views and each internal body has it's own internal organizational/movement issues.

Time after time today members of Knesset, Ministers of the Government, and their aides repeated that it is ironic that the "Reformim" are religious while many of "us" really know so little about our Judaism. When the Minister of Defense made a similar statement we offered to have him to learn with us in our kehilot, or even to provide him with a teacher.

Our hard work will be twofold: engaging with our own folks in America to help Israel in its current struggles while increasing support of all kinds, including financial, to help our Israeli movement. If most of the MKs do not understand the importance of our concerns, all the more so the general public.

Usually folks who fast wish each other Tzom Kal -- an easy fast. This Tisha B'Av may your fast or your observance be meaningful knowing that you have the privilege of being a leader, not only of ARZA and our movement, but also of Klal Yisrael. We are a people of memory but even more so we are a people of deeds. Many great ones lie ahead of all of us.

The Fight Is Not Yet Over

2010-07-18T17:01:04Z

by Rabbi Daniel R. Allen
Executive Director of ARZA

The atmosphere is probably on normal mode for typical Israeli politics. The budget has not been approved, the peace process is shaky, and there are threats to bring down the government. By the time you read this what I write may be old news. What is most fascinating is that we, and here I mean the vast majority of affiliated Jews in America and around the world, are part of the maelstrom.

Many of us have seen this move before. The fights over who is a Jew in the early 70's, the crisis in the 90's that led to the Ne'eman Commission, and the court cases brought by IRAC. In 2002 the Israeli Supreme Court ruled that Israel is not a religious state but a State of the Jewish People. As such, the civil government had a right to provide the means -- whether through the Law of Return, the population registry or other means -- for Jews to come to and live in Israel. The Court opinion, written by Justice Barak, clearly stated that the controlling factor for the Jewish people was not solely Jewish religion. One reason given was that there was not agreement on the religious questions.

]]> The crux of the current Rotem Conversion Bill is the effort to wrest control of the definition of the Jewish people for state purposes from the civic government and place it clearly in the offices of the Chief Rabbis. We have not had a central Jewish authority since the time of the Temples, but if this bill passes we could well find ourselves with just such an authority, backed by the power of a state.

One of the more interesting meetings today was with the Secretary of the Government. The off-the-record conversation was an opportunity to hypothetically test information and strategies. "If you happen to speak with x perhaps you might say the following." The meeting was held after Prime Minister Netanyahu had made a public statement that he was against the Rotem Bill and urged all members of his party to vote against it. Does urge mean imposing party discipline so that MKs have no choice in casting their vote? So far there is no explicit answer to that question but many winks.

The PM said several weeks ago that what is needed is a table around which we can all discuss the broadest definitions of what it means to be a member of the Jewish people. Of course, every side would need to consider the needs of all parties. We are not known for reaching consensus opinions among Jews easily. However, if such a conversation can be engaged, it is far better for all concerned than forcing the issue through legislation.

I urge you to thank the Prime Minister for his leadership but also to remind him that the Rotem Bill must not pass, even better not to come to a vote at all.

The team assembled here is quite impressive. In addition to David Saperstein and myself, the heads of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, Rabbinical Assembly, and the Jewish Federations of North America. Of course our colleagues here from IMPJ, Gilad Kariv, and IRAC, as well as the Masorti movement, are also participating. There are daily calls -- usually at 10p.m. Israel time -- to update a team that includes the lay and professional staff of URJ, WUPJ, CCAR, as well as the other movements leadership.

Whatever happens here this week (and I do believe the bill will fail), one thing is clear to me: the best way to the growth of an open, pluralistic, democratic, Jewish Israel is for us to assist in building a strong Israeli movement. There are no serious barriers to our success. For sure we should continue our efforts to find ways for the Government to assist us. However, most importantly, we must be the emissaries to our fellow Reform Jews in America; telling the story of the growth of IMPJ, the successes of IRAC, and working to provide the serious funds for growth. It will take patience, perspiration and perseverance, but with renewed vigor ARZA can and must lead the way.

Shavuah Tov.
Danny

Tishah B'Av and Our Israel

2010-07-16T16:23:08Z

by Rabbi Daniel R. Allen
Executive Director of ARZA
(Originally posted on Ten Minutes of Torah)

I will hear Parshat D'varim on Shabbat and Lamentations on Tuesday in Jerusalem. I am here to participate in the effort to stop the Rotem Conversion Bill from passing in the Knesset. How ironic it is that the bill was voted out of committee on the first of Av and will be brought for first reading just after Tisha b'Av (the 9th of Av), the fast day on which the Jewish world commemorates the loss of the two ancient Temples. One of the reasons our ancient Rabbis gave for their destruction was sinat chinam - the internal arguing of one Jew with another.

Rabbi David Saperstein and I are in Israel to represent our Reform Movement organizations that are working alongside the Conservative Movement, the Federations of North America and the Jewish Agency for Israel to stop the Conversion legislation. Our joint efforts have involved the URJ, ARZA, CCAR, WUPJ, WRJ, MRJ, and of course, the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism and its Israel Religious Action Center.

]]> The word eichah means "how". It is most familiar to us in the opening line of Lamentations "How does the city sit solitary" The same word, eichah, is used by Moses in this week's parashah when he exclaims "How can I alone bear the trouble of you...and the bickering". Today some are asking, "How can we, who do not live in Israel, interfere in the internal political struggles of Israel"?

My answer is that when it comes to questions of the Jewish people, eichah--how can we not raise our collective voices. For the 2,000 years of exile we had no central religious authority. Each Jewish community, be they Sephardim or Ashkenazim, wherever they dwelled in the world, made their own internal religious decisions based on their place in the long march of Jewish history and their own reading of our Torah and traditions. Even Moses could not be the sole decision maker. He recounts in this week's portion how a system of courts was established to have justice be closer to the people, not vested in just one individual.

The proposed conversion bill, if passed, would formally legislate absolute authority on religious matters in Israel to the Chief Rabbis. With half the world's Jewish population and the only Jewish sovereign state in the world, such a decision has significant implications for all Jews. We have not had a central Jewish authority since the time of the Temples and Kings. We do not need one today.

What we do need is an understanding that that there are many legitimate ways to be a Jew. We are not obligated to like each other or agree with each other and the Jewish decisions we make. We are, however, obligated to love each other for we are bound, each Jew to all other Jews, in an eternal Covenant within our own Jewish Civilization.

Israel lives in a tough neighborhood. She needs and deserves our complete support no matter where we choose to live. And, with that support comes the obligation to speak out about the major questions that affect the whole of the Jewish people. Israel needs and deserves our vigorous participation in the debate as to what kind of Jewish state Israel is to be.

The 10th day of Av, which is Wednesday, is also a critical day. It ushers in a period of comfort leading to the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah. Let us pray that this year on the 10th of Av the Jewish world has had enough of the divisiveness that leads to destruction and that it has been replaced with comfort that leads to reconciliation.

Carrying the Torah with Pride

2010-07-14T19:05:02Z

by Phyllis Sommer
Originally posted on Ima on (and off) the Bima

Today, I was greeted with this news about the arrest of Anat Hoffman, one of the leaders of Women of the Wall and the Reform movement in Israel.

From the Facebook page of Women of the Wall, this press release:

ANAT HOFFMAN TAKEN INTO POLICE CUSTODY FOR CARRYING TORAH
Chairperson forcefully removed by police for carrying Torah

Jerusalem, Israel - One of the leaders of the Reform movement in Israel and Women of the Wall (WOW) was arrested for holding a sefer Torah during a Rosh Chodesh celebration at the Western Wall.

Women of the Wall (WOW) gathered this morning for their monthly Rosh Chodesh services at 7 a.m. on the women's side of the Kotel. Anat Hoffman, with a sefer Torah in her arms, led the 150 women strong prayer group in song as it continued its celebration in a procession toward Robinson's Arch.

Moments after leaving the Wall, police confronted and blocked the procession and began menacingly to attempt to remove the Torah from Hoffman's arms. Hundreds of participants watched in shock and distress as the Torah was jostled by police.

Hoffman was detained under the pretext that she was not praying according to the traditional customs of the Kotel. Hoffman was taken into police custody and interrogated for five hours. Police claim that holding the sefer Torah is against the Supreme Court ruling. Police are currently consulting with Attorney General to determine her charges.

Anat and her lawyer stated that the act of carrying a Torah is not mentioned in the Supreme Court ruling. Women of the Wall stood in solidarity with Anat outside of the Kishle Police Station near Jaffa Gate. Hoffman was released from police custody and banned from the Kotel for 30 days.

The arrest of a woman on the first day of the month of Av is a harsh reminder of the price that Israeli society may pay for its religious intolerance and fanaticism. Tomorrow at 13:30, WOW will lobby at the Knesset for civil equality and pluralism at the Kotel, emphasizing the Wall as a holy site for all streams of Judaism and advocating for equal rights of women at the Wall.

This morning at URJ Olin-Sang Ruby Union Institute, Torah was read all over camp. Our readers were women and men. The Torah was carried by rabbis and teachers, counselors and staff - male and female. The Torah for which Anat was arrested is the Torah from which we teach and learn each and every day. The country that allowed for the arrest of a woman carrying the Torah is the country for which we pray for peace and safety each and every day.

]]> I'm torn, truthfully. I consider myself an ohevet Tzion, a lover of Zion. But I am intensely and incredibly hurt by this action taken by the police in Jerusalem. (I do, however, smile a little at the 30-day ban from the Kotel proscribed for Anat - which ends just in time for Rosh Chodesh Elul. Reminds me of the wise judge in the story of the sukkah who gave the owner 7 days to take it down...)

For now, I will continue to wait and see what happens in the land I love. I will fill my days and world with Torah and I will teach anyone who will listen about my own beliefs about equality and plurality and fairness and right.

And I will continue to carry the Torah with great pride.

Galilee Diary: Accidental Hero

2010-07-13T15:09:16Z

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

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...There is no mitzvah greater than the redemption of captives... However, we do not redeem captives beyond their fair price... so that our enemies will not be motivated to pursue and capture hostages; and we do not try to rescue them... so that our enemies will not be cruel to them and guard them harshly.
-Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Laws of Gifts to the Poor 8:10, 8:12

I am writing this on an Egged bus crawling along on a usually fast route, as traffic patterns around the center of the country have been disrupted lately by the march dedicated to the release of Gilad Shalit. This poor kid and the public discussion of what can and should be done about his fate have been a kind of national obsession off and on through the past four years, and have come back to center stage in the past week. Captured by Hamas near the Gaza border (two other soldiers who were with him at his post were killed), he has been held hostage in Gaza with no Red Cross or any other access. Negotiations have dragged on, with periodic reports of breakthroughs followed by accusations by each side that the other was upping the ante or negotiating in bad faith. The Shalits, a quiet, middle class family from a small community in the Western Galilee, have been at the center of an often noisy campaign that seems mainly to be aimed at the Israeli government, urging that greater efforts be made to "bring Gilad home now!" There have been demonstrations and yellow ribbons, a children's book based on Gilad's childhood writings, concerts, vigils outside the prime minister's residence, weekly special prayers in synagogues of every denomination, and constant emotional front page coverage of all of this in all the media.

]]> It is hard to argue with or criticize the Shalits and their supporters: how would I feel if, God forbid, it was my kid? It would seem that parents should do everything in their power to save their child, so that some day, when they ask themselves if they did all they could, they will be able to answer with a clear conscience. And there are those who say that it is Israel's commitment to its soldiers to put their welfare above all other considerations - otherwise why should they take risks for the homeland? After all, the Jewish commitment to redemption of prisoners is deeply rooted in our history and literature. Others say that Israel holds thousands of Palestinian prisoners, many without proper trial, for all kinds of political offenses - so a lopsided trade is only fair. And we certainly have precedent for such exchanges over the past few decades. There is always the argument of "it's the occupation, stupid," but that doesn't seem all that helpful in dealing with this specific situation.

There is another side, which even though it sometimes gets drowned out in the media circus surrounding the case, nevertheless is represented in the debate. It too includes several different arguments: a) One should not negotiate with terrorists, period; b) Hamas is not demanding large numbers of random prisoners, but the release of high profile terrorists with a blood-curdling record - and a history returning to terrorist actions whenever they are released from custody; c) paying a high price for a kidnap victim only encourages further kidnappings. In the 13th century, in Germany, Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg (a prominent leader) was captured by a local noble and held for ransom. His devoted community set about raising the funds to spring their beloved rabbi. But Rabbi Meir forbade them to ransom him, lest the local rulers be encouraged to expand this source of revenue with further kidnappings. After 14 years, he died in prison; ultimately, his community did ransom his body for burial.

It seems to me that the dilemma of the right response to a kidnapping situation is one of the most difficult moral challenges there is, whether to a family, a local authority, or a nation. One of the things I thank God for in my prayers is that I am not the prime minister, so I don't have to make this decision. But I also pray that God will give the prime minister the wisdom to do the right thing, whatever that is.

Anat Arrested and Other Emergencies: Act Now!

2010-07-12T21:45:40Z

by Anat Hoffman, Executive Director, Israel Religious Action Center

Today appeared to be an excellent day for the ultra-Orthodox hegemony here in Israel. Before 9 AM, I was arrested for carrying a sefer Torah on the women's side of the Western Wall. At the same time just miles away, the conversion bill - that would change forever the definition of who is a Jew in Israel - passed its first vote in the Knesset.

The ultra-Orthodox are applauding the events of today. They succeeded in preventing women from carrying a Torah and praying at the holiest site of the Jewish people, and they moved one step closer to erasing all recognition ever achieved for Reform and Conservative conversion in Israel.
]]>
The events of today bring to light the moral bankruptcy of the antiquated, violent, and intolerant Judaism that defines the ultra-Orthodox strand of Judaism in Israel today. This stands in contrast to our progressive Judaism that is committed to the equality inherent in every individual - man or woman, Jew by birth or Jew by choice.

There is an expression that I love - we must learn to walk and chew gum at the same time. I and the other leaders of the Israeli Reform Movement will take care of things on the ground here in Israel - the police, the courts, the Knesset. Now you must take care of the Conversion bill. In the next 24 hours, send the attached letter demanding that the Israeli government listen to our voice, our unified voice calling for a Judaism of openness and tolerance. This is not an issue affecting only converts - it is an issue that threatens the very unity of the Jewish people.

Today starts the countdown of your moving into action to reject this dangerous brand of Judaism. Our voices will be heard, and through all of us working together, the ultra-Orthodox "victories" of today will prove obsolete.

Please copy and paste the attached letter to your own email, and send it to the Prime Minister, and forward this urgent call to your friends and family by clicking here.

Israel Revisited

2010-07-08T15:57:12Z

by Larry Kaufman

Almost two years ago, I asked the readers of this blog to advise me on what to see on a fifth trip to Israel. As it happened, the trip we were then planning didn't happen until just now, and turned out to be built around the World Zionist Congress instead of around the World Union for Progressive Judaism's Connections 2009 biennial. (Side note: we - and you - have another crack at a WUPJ Connections this coming February in San Francisco.)

As I explained in that earlier post, on our four previous trips we had seen the obligatory tourist sites along with enjoying a variety of off-the-beaten track adventures. I asked what was worth going back to because it had changed since last we were there (for example, we've seen three different incarnations of Yad VaShem) or what had materialized since our 2007 visit (when, for example, the very worthwhile Menachem Begin Museum was relatively new). Although we got some very good advice at that time, we ended up on this trip doing different things from those suggested then or that were on our tentative 2009 itinerary.

Some of those things - like shopping on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem or in the Carmel Market in Tel Aviv - had been available on previous trips, we just hadn't done them. Some, like the indoor playground built by the Jewish National Fund to give the children of Sderot a safe place to play away from Gazan rockets, had come into being since 2007. And some were things we couldn't have done on our own, but were privileged to do because we were part of the Reform Leadership Mission that followed the Congress.

]]> One such highlight was our visit to a public school in south Tel Aviv/Jaffa where Arab and Jewish children learn together (and thus learn to live together). I've already described this in a comment on another post and it was also the subject of a post a week or so ago by my fellow traveler Rabbi Danny Allen of ARZA.

Another highlight was the opportunity to visit with members of the pre-army Mechina operated by the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, which gives Israeli young people a gap-year grounding not only in the idea that there are many ways to be Jewish, even in Israel, but that the best way includes a healthy commitment to tikkun olam. Another privilege was to attend a dedication ceremony for a soon-to-be-built Mechina building, enabled by a major contribution from the URJ's Senior Vice President Rabbi Daniel Freelander and his brother in memory of their mother.

We had hoped to be able to visit the Israel Museum, but learned that most of it has been closed for renovations (it should be open by now), nor were we able to make the trek to Caesarea to the highly recommended Ralli Museum of Latin-American Art. But we did get to see the remarkable Impressionist collection at the Tel Aviv Art Museum, and also the eclectic potpourri at the very personal Ilana Goor Museum in Jaffa - displaying both the works she has created and those she has collected, in a restored Mediterranean palazzo (on whose rooftop overlooking the sea we also had our Shabbat morning services).

One of the take-aways from any visit to Israel is the study in contrasts. Juxtapose the Jerusalem buildings in golden stone with the white Bauhaus stucco of Tel Aviv, and then with its glass and steel skyscrapers. Savor a lunch of Middle Eastern salads with hummus and pita, followed by dinner in an American style steakhouse. One day the fruits and vegetables and bakery goods of the shuk, the next the gold and diamond jewelry of the Mamilla Mall. One Friday the enthusiastic sabra voices singing the familiar tunes of Kabbalat Shabbat, accompanied on the harmonium, in a dance studio turned into an ad hoc synagogue; the next Friday, the polished tones of the Israel Philharmonic, accompanying Emanuel Ax in a Chopin piano concerto in the elegant Mann Auditorium. Perhaps most important, contrast the growing impatience of Israeli seculars with special privileges for the ultra-Orthodox with the growing awareness and acceptance of the Progressive movement and its dynamic approach to a non-repressive, 21st century Judaism.

One constant related to all of our trips to Israel has been the questions both before and after (from people who have never been there) about our safety. On this trip, we had no qualms about visiting the Old City, which we had avoided in 2002 and 2007; at no point did we have to transfer from a standard bus to an armor-plated vehicle, nor welcome "security" aboard; nor were we "frisked" for weapons as we went into restaurants on Emek Refaim that had frisked us on our previous trips. Even Sderot is quiet, although we were reminded there that the indoor playground was designed around a 15-second warning - stop what you're doing, you have 15 seconds to get into the shelter. People go about their business, tourists abound, traffic flows through the checkpoints - and the absence of peace doesn't intrude on the normalcy of day-to-day life.

I will always remember the prophetic introductory remarks of Mickey, our guide on our first trip to Israel 35 years ago: You come to Israel as a tourist, but you will leave as a pilgrim. On subsequent trips, our focus was neither tourism nor pilgrimage, although both elements were present - we had come for meetings, attending to the business of the Jewish people. And this trip had elements of all three - but the residual feeling this time was different. Although we no longer have relatives there, we came home with a sense that we had been visiting family. Recent advertisements from the Israel Tourist Office have featured the tag line, No one belongs here more than you. Cynical though I may be about advertising slogans - after all, I wrote them for many decades - this one captures an essential truth. I hope you'll soon follow in my footsteps - and share my reaction. No one belongs here more than you.

Galilee Diary: What might have been...

2010-07-06T14:43:17Z

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

The bare fact...that simple and unsophisticated peoples have unbounded faith in education does not mean that the faith is untenable.
-George Counts, "Dare the School Build a New Social Order?" (1932)

Last week I accompanied a group of HUC students (Mandel Fellows) on a visit to the Galilee School, located a few miles from Shorashim; a number of my neighbors send their children there. The Galilee School is one of five integrated, bilingual (Jewish/Arab) schools in the country, one of the four that were initiated and are supported by the Hand in Hand Foundation. In other words, of a million or so students in Israel, a few hundred attend mixed schools; the vast majority attend schools that are formally designated as: state (culturally Jewish), state religious (Orthodox-zionist), state Arab, independent (Ultra-orthodox), or private (usually Christian). The educators who founded the Jewish education system in pre-state Palestine (even before the British Mandate began after WWI) began with a vision of a universal system (for the Jews, at least) based on Jewish culture (without religion); if you wanted to teach your child a particular religious or ideological approach, you would do so in the afternoon or on weekends. The public school system of the US was the model for many of these educators. But already by the early 20s, the universal vision had collapsed, and separate "streams" developed, "general Zionist," "religious Zionist," "socialist Zionist," Arab and Ultra-orthodox. And from the beginning, it had been taken for granted that the Jews would educate their children - and the Arabs theirs. The British tried to operate truly "separate but equal" systems, but the Jews brought in their own resources and expertise - and demanded autonomy; there was frequent conflict between the Zionist educators and the British education authority. With the creation of the state, the "streams" were adopted by the new ministry of education, and that structure continues to this day.

]]> The "stream" system means that a typical non-Orthodox Israeli can reach the army induction center before meeting his/her first Orthodox peer, meet an Arab for the first time (if ever) at university, and never meet an ultra-Orthodox contemporary. Only in the past 10 years or so have there been attempts at change. The Hand in Hand schools offer a symmetrical dual-immersion approach: every class is mixed, with an Arab and a Jewish teacher, and the kids are supposed to pass freely between languages. In reality it's more complicated, as the ambient culture is in Hebrew, so the Arab parents all know Hebrew and their kids absorb it from the environment, whereas virtually none of the Jewish pupils ever hear Arabic outside of the classroom. Moreover, while the school receives basic government funding and the Foundation pays for the extra staff, special materials, etc., the busing is paid by the parents, and is a significant expense. And there are a number of attractive alternatives for the Jews. Therefore, symmetrical enrollment has been an impossible challenge, and the schools are engaged in a constant struggle for survival. Watching the kids playing and learning naturally together was moving and left me wondering if what might have been still might be.

We also met with a parent whose children attend another local experiment, a "just Jewish" school - pluralistic, enrolling children from Orthodox and non-Orthodox families. Partially supported by the Meitarim Foundation (that supports a network of such schools), this school has not attained ministry approval, so is operating under the rubric of home schooling (which is allowed, and supervised, in Israel - there are a few hundred families involved, nationwide). In this school, the parents provide a significant amount of volunteer manpower - there are classroom teachers, but all of the enrichment and "frills" are provided by the parents.

These inspiring, struggling experiments are part of a difficult discussion that has occupied educators for the past century (at least): Can schools change the social order? Or are they doomed to perpetuate it?

Galilee Diary: A New Song

2010-06-30T20:28:28Z

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

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...How goodly, goodly are our tents;
We will yet return to an ancient melody.
-"Ancient melody," popular folk-song (and dance) by Michael Kashten and Amitai Ne'eman

Sing unto the Lord a new song, sing unto the Lord all the earth.
-Psalm 96:1

Three pop music experiences in one week:

On Saturday, at the biennial convention of the Israeli Reform Movement, one of the study sessions was devoted to the text of a song by the popular singer Ehud Banai, which strings together a collection of expressions from the lingo of telephone talk (perhaps it's a wrong number; no reception here; I hear you broken up; I'm waiting on the line; etc.); each verse ends with "Are you still with me? / Answer me." While it might be a song about love or friendship, it is hard to avoid the impression that it is a prayer, and that at the other end of the bad connection is God.

]]> On Monday I attended the wedding of a friend. A member of the bride's family has a business connection with Mosh ben Ari, a popular singer whose distinctive hirsute look (with a mane of dreadlocks) is instantly recognizable even to a nerd like me. And there he was, a guest at the wedding, who sang the opening song of the ceremony, a recent, popular version of Psalm 121 ("I will lift up my eyes to the heavens...").

And on Tuesday, at the graduation ceremony of the Mandel Leadership Institute in Jerusalem, after the certificates had been distributed, Kobi Oz and his band took the stage for a 40 minute show - banter and music. Quite popular now, Oz's music often touches on themes of faith, and makes references to Jewish sources, and some songs are a deliberate fusion of current Israeli rock with traditional North African piyyut (hymns).

So what's the deal - what's God doing at rock concerts? None of the above musicians comes from the Orthodox "sector" in Israeli society, and they certainly don't aim their art at that population. All three of them (and a number of others on the pop scene today) see questions of faith and identity and Jewish roots as legitimate material for songwriting, and/or use their music as a way to explore their own roots and their dilemmas in relating to them. This seems to be a trend in popular culture in recent years. Of course, it is pretty difficult to speak Hebrew and write Hebrew poetry without making references and including allusions to various texts from the Jewish classics (Bible, rabbinic literature), and even those poets who rebelled against the tradition, like Saul Tchernichovsky in the early 20th century, made frequent use of images and expressions from Jewish religious literature. Naomi Shemer was not an anti-religious rebel, but she was definitely part of "secular" kibbutz culture - however, if you are ignorant of classical texts, much of the richness and depth of her lyrics passes right over your head. Naomi Shemer was in the tradition of folk song (indeed, many of her hits have become folksongs), so perhaps this rootedness in tradition was to be expected. The current wave of rockers whose music is an expression of Jewish identity and Jewish searching is a little more surprising.

Perhaps it's just a passing fad, a product of the ongoing transition of Israeli identity from communal to individual, a stepping back from the secular Zionist rejection of the religious tradition. Or perhaps it is evidence of the impossibility of decoupling Jewish culture from Jewish religion in the long run.

Galilee Diary: Different lenses III

2010-06-22T18:09:42Z

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

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If you will it, it will not remain a fantasy.
-Theodore Herzl, Altneuland

In addition to The Jewish State, the manifesto that sort of kicked off the Zionist movement, Theodore Herzl also wrote a novel, Altneuland ("old-new land") describing a fictitious tour of the future state of Israel in the 1920s (Herzl died in 1904). The Hebrew translation of the book was titled Tel Aviv ("ancient mound of springtime"), and the city was named after it. Herzl's Zionist utopia was a peaceful, liberal, democratic, pluralistic European welfare state, with freedom of religion. It was inhabited by smart, cultured, self-reliant, generous, Jews, and cosmopolitan, well-integrated, respectable Arabs. He didn't seem to have struggled too much with the definition of the Jewishness of the state - in 1902, the idea of a world made up of peacefully-coexisting, gently ethnic nation states had not yet crashed and burned. A sort of vaguely Jewish national identity was enough for him.

This semester I was assigned to teach a course in the Israel Rabbinic Program at HUC, and decided to revisit Herzl's vision; the assignment for the semester was for each student to write his/her own Altneuland. A novel was not required, just an outline of the main points of the writer's own vision of the ideal Jewish state. It occurred to me that we complain a lot about the reality of the state, but we rarely articulate what it would look like if we could get it right. And it turns out, when you sit down to spell out your vision, that you suddenly develop more respect for Herzl's efforts, unsatisfying as they may have been. At least he took on the challenge, and tried to sketch the outlines of the Jewish state as he envisioned it, attending to politics, culture, industry, and economics. But in a way, those are the easy questions. The topic Herzl fudged is the one we struggle with - and all of my students who have made their presentations so far have really struggled with it - the Jewishness of the state.

]]> We all pretty much agree that the present model, in which the Orthodox rabbinate is part of the apparatus of government, is unacceptable; generally, this leads to a call for separation of religion and state. OK, so the state would not be officially, religiously Jewish. This generally leads to the position that the state will be Jewish in that the majority of its population will be Jews - which in turn leads to two questions: who gets to define "Jewish;" and what means are morally acceptable to preserve a Jewish majority. And if we propose that the Jewishness of the state not be determined by any special status of the Jewish religion, but is purely cultural, we are left with the question of what is Jewish culture that is not religious? Shabbat? Calendar? Social welfare legislation? Language? Food? Alternatively, we could try to propose a Jewish state in which the laws of the land are based on Jewish values; but then we have to argue over just what are Jewish values, and what determines them - the religion? And if so, the religion according to whose interpretation? Moreover, it turns out that this discussion is complicated further when we try to define the ideal long-term relationship of the Jewish state to the Jewish people in the rest of the world. Should Diaspora (or are they exilic?) Jews have a vote? Should they just be cheerleaders? Do they have any obligation to the state? Does the state have any obligation to or responsibility for them? And if the Jewish state has a large population of non-Jewish citizens, what should be the connection of these citizens to the Jewish people outside the state?

My students are finding these questions dizzying and our discussions are often frustrating. But I believe that most of us (Jews everywhere), daunted by this frustration, have backed away from this discussion for too long - and that it is our mission as liberal Jews and Zionists to lead it thoughtfully and positively. It turns out that will is not enough. We also have to struggle with the details.

Reform Leadership Mission in Tel Aviv

2010-06-21T18:28:44Z

ARZA, URJ, and WUPJ senior lay and professional leadership experienced the fullness of our Reform Movement in Tel Aviv on Friday June 18, 2010. What follows is from Rabbi Daniel Allen, Executive Director of ARZA, reflecting on the Friday experience of the leadership.

The fence was proposed to be built between two schools in Jaffa; one with Arab students and Arab Israeli curriculum and the other with Jewish students and some Arab Students with and Israeli National curriculum, the standard "secular" school. The fence would have divided the joint playground used during recess.

The Weizman school had been struggling. Very few Jewish families were signing up their kids to attend. The city school authorities turned to our movement and to Rabbi Meir Azari of Beit Daniel to run the early grades of the school. The first year there were 6 Jewish kids and 4 Arab kids in the one kindergarten classroom. This year there were 12 Jewish kids and 15 Arab kids. Next year the registration is for two classrooms with about a 60%/40% split of Jewish and Arab kids.

The classes are in Hebrew and the culture is Jewish. Across the hall an all-Arab kindergarten teaches in Arabic and Arabic Culture.

]]> On Friday our group of Reform leaders participated with the youngsters in the Shabbat ceremony. Arabs and Jews sang the brachot, heard about the Parashat Hashavuah, and got ready for Shabbat. I sat with Tony and Mahmoud as they recited the bracha over the wine.

The Arab families who chose this classroom for their kids want them to integrate into Israeli society. 1.5 million Israelis call themselves "secular". Yet 80% believe in God, 90% observe Passover in some fashion, 75% light Hanukah candles and a similar number light Shabbat candles.

Through institutions like Beit Daniel running kindergartens around Tel Aviv, literally thousands of Jews are touched by a positive religious element. Our movement can continue to affect, with ARZA's help, our target population, the 1.5 million "secular" Israelis".

Shavuah tov from Tel Aviv. By the way, with the efforts of IMPJ and Beit Daniel no fence was built.

Danny

ARZA Notebook: From the 36th World Zionist Congress, Our Many Accomplishments

2010-06-18T18:41:34Z

The 36th World Zionist Congress runs from June 15 to June 17, 2010. Rabbi Danny Allen, Executive Director of the Association of Reform Zionists of America (ARZA), is in Jerusalem attending the Congress. This is the 4th and final blog of his series of dispatches.

It may well be true that 90% of life is showing up. ARZA has been showing up at the World Zionist Congresses every four years for three decades. This congress was led by the incoming President of the Israel Progressive Movement (IMPJ) Yaron Shavit, a first for our movement.

Our accomplishments through the resolutions process partially include:

Overwhelming support to oppose the currently proposed changes in Israeli conversion law that will both negate the Law of Return and prejudice the rights of Jewish communities to act, each in its own way, regarding the conversion process.
Equal funding for all Jewish religious streams within the WZO budget. This could mean an additional $500,000 for the IMPJ.
80% positive support stating that the Government of Israel should recognize all streams of Judaism and their right to perform marriages and conversion in Israel.
Approved a new requirement that 30% of the membership in all WZO committees, boards, etc. must be women.

]]> While these accomplishments, and more, ring true for our movement there is a bigger context. Some folks say that the WZO is no longer a relevant institution. While it is true that it, in cooperation with the Jewish Agency for Israel, long ago fulfilled its basic mandate to establish a sovereign Jewish democratic state in our homeland, there remain benefits to us and our people derived from the WZO. One benefit is that the WZO is a real point of entry for our movement to influence some of the Israeli leadership. The other major benefit is the opportunity to discuss, dialogue and collective opine through resolutions on the thinking of the Jews world wide. Some have called it the parliament of the Jewish people.

This was the first time that a charedi (ultra orthodox) group joined the WZO. In this case it was the Shas party that represents mostly the Sephardic community and more specifically Moroccan Jews. One of their agenda items at the Congress was to have the concept of Jewish pluralism deleted from the WZO body politic. They proposed resolutions to set up pre conversion institutions in the Diaspora to avoid our congregations and rabbis as well as those of the Conservative movement and modern Orthodox. They proposed that the WZO expend its limited funds on substantial projects in the West Bank to protect ancient Jewish religious sites. They opposed the serious inclusion of women.

Led by our delegation, all of the Shas efforts were soundly defeated. Will this affect Israeli Government policies that we would like to see changed? Perhaps. Our collective actions do, however, put the majority of affiliated Jews on record as being for pluralism, tolerance and the rule of law in a Jewish, civil, democratic state.

As we observed the Shas delegation composed mainly of Rabbis, I could not help but feel proud that among our leadership present and voting were many of our own Rabbis. When Steven Fox, the CEO of the CCAR repeatedly raised his voting card to vote for progress in the Israeli society, I could imagine the hundreds strong members of the Conference he represented cheering us all on in our work.

My first WZO Congress was in the spring of 1972. Then we, as a movement, were not present. At this 36th Congress, ARZA was the clear leader, the largest group present, and able to use the WZO to advance our progressive agenda. Our overall delegation owes a big thanks to the leadership of Joan Garson, the Chairman of ARZENU (all the ARZA's from around the world) for her incredible efforts. Our own board member Didi Gilbert was also a key member and voice of ARZA in the inner ARZENU circle.

Our movement, which was once an American Jewish implant in foreign soil, is now a Sabra. The lay and professional leadership and the vast majority of members of IMPJ congregations are native born Israelis. Many were part of our overall delegation.

Today our Reform Leadership mission composed of senior lay and professional leaders of URJ, ARZA and WUPJ will participate in the dedication of the land in Jaffa for the new IMPJ Mechinah program center. This will be the first IMPJ movement wide building of our own. It is a visible tribute to the importance of our work to support fellow progressive Jews as day by day they improve the life of our home.

The massive demonstrations against the rule of law by nearly 100,000 in Jerusalem yesterday created nightmare traffic problems and again demonstrated the strength of the Israeli democracy. The rule of law won in the Jerusalem public square today.

Inside the WZO Shas, which was at the heart of the public demonstrations, tried to disrupt the procedures as well. Two 20-something Australian Jewish delegates addressed the body together. One is a member of the very left wing Hashomer Hatzair and the other a member of the modern orthodox B'nai Akiva. Standing with arms entwined they scolded that Herzl, the founder of modern Zionism and the World Zionist Organization, would have been appalled at the lack of civility but not the lack of agreement in our discussions. The overwhelming majority of those present--Jews from all over the world in all shapes, sizes, ethnicities and religious practice could not have agreed more. It is true--90% of life is showing up....especially if you can take one more positive step to improve the world.

Yesterday, at 3:30, having started at 5:30 a.m. we sang Hatikvah, wished each other safe journeys, and at least for ARZA departed with a great sense of accomplishment.

Shabbat Shalom from Jerusalem,

Danny

ARZA Notebook: From the 36th World Zionist Congress: Day 2, The Zionism Continuum

2010-06-16T20:31:17Z

In the age of 19th century nationalism our own version of national liberation, Zionism, came to life once again in our people. Today, at the 36th World Zionist Congress, Professor Stephen Cohen led an intense two hour conversation on what Zionism is and means now. He divided the current Zionists (and all supporters of Israel) into two groups: Protective and Corrective. Diaspora Protective Zionists tend to feel that Corrective Zionists are often no better than Israel's enemies. Corrective Zionists tend to feel that Protective Zionists--Israel right or wrong--are one cause for the younger generations to be increasingly less supportive of or engaged with Israel. Where do you fall along the continuum of Protective-Corrective Zionism?

With a focus on the future, how should we position the Reform Zionist message through ARZA? Professor Cohen suggests three possibilities:

]]>

The deductive message relies on the authority of the Zionist message. We are a people, a people is entitled to a land; Israel is our land, and ultimate authority is probably divine.

The reductive message must be market relevant without regard to any authority needs. Nike is one of the most famous reflective messages with its "Just Do It" tag line.

The third way, inductive, generally calls for a paradigm shift in both messaging and authority. As we move ARZA forward into the realm of serious development work we will need to explore a third way method and message.

Lobbying is a time honored tradition in any healthy democracy. Our Israel Religious Action Center has a superb staff lobbyist. She has worked inside the Knesset in one or another political capacity for over 20 years. Please let us know when you are traveling to Israel so that you can help us lobby. It is important on occasion for an ARZA trip to spend some time meeting with a member of Knesset either to say thank you for a recent action or to explain why a particular action or attitude is contrary to what we understand to be in the best interest of our people in general and our movement in particular.

Our kids usually deliver words of Torah on the occasion of their B'nei Mitzvah. A couple of weeks ago a young woman celebrated her Bat Mitzvah in one of our congregations. She is the only child in a single parent family. Her Big Sister (a program similar to the Big Brothers/Big Sisters in America), though not a member of our movement encouraged Galya to take the Bat Mitzvah experience seriously. She read her entire Torah portion and the traditional full haftorah.

Her D'var Torah focused on the fact that Samson's mother in the Torah is not named. She asked, what is in a name? What does it mean if you are part of a narrative but are unnamed? When ARZA first entered the World Zionist Organization we were present, but not well known, perhaps not named. Now we are the single largest delegation within the WZO and as the Cheers song says--everyone knows our name. With our collective and supportive efforts our Israel Progressive Movement's name will continue to increase within Israel and help our Jewish Zionist Democratic state continue to work toward being a light unto the nations.

Danny

ARZA Notebook: From the 36th World Zionist Congress: Day 1, Mechinah and More

2010-06-15T21:05:03Z

The 36th World Zionist Congress runs from June 15 to June 17, 2010. Rabbi Danny Allen, Executive Director of the Association of Reform Zionists of America (ARZA), is in Jerusalem attending the Congress. Below is part of his series of dispatches.

We left the hotel just after 7 a.m. for the 36th World Zionist Congress only to return after 11:00p.m. Some might think our more than 50 ARZA delegation a bit daft. The merry band of Reform Zionists is led by ARZA President Rabbi Robert Orkand and includes Chairman of the URJ Board of Trustees Peter Weidhorn and URJ Senior Vice President Danny Freelander, with 25% of our delegation under the age of 30.

Back to the daft part. Through our efforts within the WZO it is our expectation that the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism will receive support of approximately $1,500,000. It is our hope, and our ARZA holy task, to raise our fundraising sights to match these funds in the coming year and to continue our support for the work of the Israel Religious Action Center.

One of the projects for which we hope to raise funds is the IMPJ Mechinah. In Israel there are many year long programs (Mechinot) that prepare high school graduates to enter the Israel Defense Forces. Our movement has sponsored our own mechinah for nine years. Last Thursday evening ARZA honored Rabbis Elyse Frishman and Danny Freelander in a New York event. The IMPJ Mechinah will be a significant beneficiary of the funds raised.

]]> Mechinah planning group this afternoon. The Mechinah is engaged in planning for a new building in Jaffa, where the program takes place. One of the strengths of our movement is our experiential immersion programs: URJ Camps, NFTY Israel trips, etc. These are often positive life-shaping experiences for our youth.

Mechinah is an immersion program for the youth of our Israel movement. Through their leadership in the IDF and after their service they will help shape what we hope will ever be a democratic Jewish progressive Israel.

Through your work with and support of ARZA you are a participant in shaping Israel.

Danny

Galilee Diary: Different lenses II

2010-06-15T16:32:25Z

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

The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its inhabitants. All the people that we saw in it are men of great size...; we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.
-Numbers 13:32-33 (the report of the spies)

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For twenty years, the "flagship" project of our educational center has been setting up encounters between Diaspora Jews and Israeli Arabs. While the visiting groups include adult synagogue and community tours, the vast majority of the guests are teenagers or birthright participants. There have been years when we have hosted over 3,000 people in July alone; in recent years the numbers have been in the range of 1,500-2,000. The standard program consists of a 45-60 minute background presentation surveying the history of Jewish-Arab relations in the land of Israel, and trying to explain the current reality and the dilemmas we face here - both the Jewish majority and the Arab minority - as we try to live together in the democratic Jewish state. Then, either the group reboards their bus for a 15-minute drive to a nearby village, where they meet Arab teens in the school; or, if the group's tour operator forbids entry into Arab villages (there are still some who do), we send a bus to bring the Arab kids to Shorashim.

]]> This year, we are working with groups in three villages; it varies from year to year depending on logistics, local politics, school leadership, etc. - also, some years we are able to provide a weekly after-school English "club" for the Arab teens, in addition to their one-time encounters with visiting groups. In any case, in a typical summer, each Arab participant will have had the opportunity to converse with Diaspora Jews for an hour or so at least a dozen times, and many return for two or even three summers. They do it for the English practice, which is crucial, especially for the better students with academic ambitions; they do it for the fun of meeting other kids; they do it because it's something to do; they do it out of a commitment to try to build understanding and correct stereotypes. Some of them are stars and it is a pleasure to watch them shine; others struggle to communicate, but they stick with it. At the end of the summer the overall improvement in English fluency and in self-confidence is evident.

And the tourists? Their first comment is usually that they found it surprising and interesting to discover just how "normal" the Arab kids are - universal 21st century teenagers. Not what they expected from what they "knew" about Arabs from the media. (Actually, the first surprise comes in the introductory lecture, when they learn that one out of five Israelis is an Arab, and that the Arabs of Israel and those of the West Bank and Gaza, while they share an ethnic identity, are very different in their history, status, politics, and prospects). We have found that it is important to structure the encounter to focus mainly on the personal, on family, community, school, social life, etc., opening up more "political" questions as the hour goes on (what is it like to be a minority? What do you like and dislike about the place in which you live, etc.), as jumping into heavy political conversations generally means just lapsing into defensive positions, so that no real conversation takes place. There are always a few in the American groups, usually boys, who insist on steering the conversation immediately toward a debate in which they seek to overwhelm the Arabs with proofs of Israel's righteousness, and get stuck there for an hour. But since we work in small groups, and remix them a few times in the hour, they generally don't derail the learning of the rest of the group. And there's nothing wrong with the Arab kids' having to learn to hear these arguments and think about them and their responses to them.

The season has begun and I myself have already facilitated a few groups this week. Are we making peace? We have no illusions of that. But we figure that sending the Americans home with a slightly more nuanced understanding of the reality here may be useful in the long run; and if we contribute our small part to nurturing a self-aware, self-critical, self-confident, worldly young leadership in the Israeli Arab community - dayeinu!

ARZA Notebook: Dispatches from the 36th World Zionist Congress and Beyond

2010-06-14T20:03:56Z

Monday June 14,2010
Jerusalem

Patience and perseverance fully describe the ARZA day of preparation for the opening of the World Zionist Congress Tuesday. Our delegation is the largest element of the world ARZENU group that is here. ARZA and the other ARZA's from around the world form the largest single Zionist party at the WZO Congress.

Meeting on the beautiful Hebrew Union College campus in Jerusalem we discussed many subjects including the essence of Reform Zionism. Rabbi Stanley Davids and Rabbi Gilad Kariv, the Executive Director of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, led the intense discussion. The conclusion of a core meaning of Reform Zionism was summarized thusly "The Torah speaks of human beings created in the image of God. It does not say Jewish human beings but human beings."

We also spent time in committee meetings preparing for the upcoming resolutions session of the Congress. Several resolutions are attempting to lesson the WZO commitment to the pluralism of the Jewish world. Our folks are ready for this fight.

Dining alfresco in serenity on one of the terraces of HUC, sharing a light dinner with friends, old and new, from IMPJ congregations, being led in singing by members of the IMPJ youth, one can hardly imagine that Israel lives in a tough neighborhood. Your ongoing support of ARZA is a key factor in the ongoing success of the congregation and programs of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism.

The day began at 8:00 am with the final meeting concluding at 10:30 p.m. Congress opens tomorrow. More to come.

From Jerusalem,

Danny

Galilee Diary: Different lenses I

2010-06-08T17:55:38Z

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

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But the people would not listen to Samuel's warning. "No," they said. "We must have a king over us, that we may be like all the other nations: Let our king rule over us and go out at our head and fight our battles."
-I Samuel 8:19-20

I have been asked by a few readers to write about the flotilla incident, and even though I generally refrain from commenting on "national" topics, this seems a good case study for examining the dilemma of Israel-Diaspora relations. There is of course no unanimity in Israel regarding the incident; the various positions more or less fall where you might expect along the left-right spectrum. Here is a schematic catalog:

1. The Gazans elected a government that declares itself Israel's enemy and refuses to recognize or make peace with Israel. When in war, as in war. Israel is justified in blockading Gaza and enforcing that blockade by force if necessary. The ship carried terrorists who attacked the soldiers attempting peaceably to enforce the blockade.

a. The condemnations and calls for an inquiry - internal or external - are unjustified and hypocritical.

b. The decision of how to respond to the challenge was faulty, and a less risky approach should have been chosen. There should be an internal inquiry and/or the minister of defense should resign.

c. The operation was appropriate, but the implementation (intelligence, planning) was faulty. There should be an internal inquiry and/or the relevant official(s) should resign.

d. The operation was appropriate and successful; the failure was in the area of public relations and diplomacy - we won the war but lost the propaganda battle. There should be an internal inquiry and/or the relevant official(s) should resign.

2. The policy of siege on Gaza has proven over the years to be ineffective in changing either policy or public opinion, and it only leads to continued and escalated enmity on the part of the Gazans, and condemnation in the world. This operation is only proof that the policy is counterproductive and bankrupt. It is time to rethink our entire approach to the use of force in defining our relationship with the Palestinians.

]]> I have not been reading polls, but my sense is that the majority of the population is clearly in the first camp, divided among the four sub-positions. While there have been opinion pieces supporting the second position, the voices are rather subdued and there have been no significant demonstrations from that sector. The nationalistic/patriotic position remains dominant, and holds a monopoly on the rhetoric of "defeatism," "betrayal," "self-hatred," applied to those who argue that the current policy and its implementation may be questionable, problematic, or even wrong. So the questioners keep a low profile. This situation hasn't changed much over the past decade or so, and if anything seems to have intensified. This debate may be frustrating, but I think it goes with the territory (i.e., with having a sovereign state with a foreign policy) just as the US struggled with the dilemma of Vietnam, with perhaps a similar internal dynamic.

The more difficult challenge, it seems to me, is what faces Diaspora Jews, who do not have the same level of commitment and risk as the citizens of the state, yet as Jews find it difficult simply to disengage and claim to the world that they have nothing to do with Israel's decisions and actions. And even if they want to, it is not clear that the world will let them. The more lurid the TV images, the more painful the jaws of this trap. I don't speak for the state, nor do you. Yet, somehow the state speaks for all of us willy-nilly, and none of us can escape some degree of responsibility for trying to steer it in the right direction, or at least for trying to figure out what the right direction is.

Gaza Flotilla and Israel: Finding Balance Amidst the Mayhem

2010-06-04T19:30:56Z

by Rabbi Paul Kipnes
Originally posted on Or Am I?

The Baal Shem Tov (founder of Chasidism) urged his followers toward hishtavut, equanimity or levelheadedness. He recognized that powerful emotions of others will sway us in directions that lead us away from emet or truth. As we are assaulted by media messages about the Gaza Flotilla, let us strive for hishtavut (levelheadedness) in our response to the onslaught.

Here's what is known: A flotilla of 6 ships moved toward Gaza with the stated purpose either of delivering humanitarian supplies or of breaking Israel's military blockade of Gaza. After repeatedly rejecting Israel's request that the ships turn back or land at the Ashdod port for offloading supplies (which would be transferred by Israel to Gaza with the other humanitarian supplies Israel sends in almost daily), and after previous entreaties of the same by the European Union, the ships sailed forth toward Gaza. We know Israeli troops peaceably boarded 5 ships and turned them back. We know that on the 6th ship, soldiers were attacked and beaten. We know people died and many soldiers were injured.

It is too easy to throw hands up and blame Israel for making this happen.
It is too easy to fall into the trap of accepting the news coverage accounts of a supposedly peaceful non-violent action by the flotilla to help the Gazans.
It is too easy to dismiss this as another way Israel embarrasses itself and our people.

Hishtavut, levelheadedness, demands that we learn more so that we do not jump to conclusions. Why?

]]> Hishtavut, levelheadedness, demands that we learn more so that we do not jump to conclusions. Why?

There is ample evidence:

That this flotilla was set up to be a media event.
That the soldiers, prepared for non-violence, were attacked with knives, lead pipes and perhaps guns.
That some organizers of the flotilla were deeply connected to Hamas and possibly other terrorist groups.

Five steps to begin to judge for yourself:

Watch this video of how the soldiers were beaten as they boarded the boat.
Examine this history of the flotilla and peaceful attempts to turn it back.
Read this Jewish Journal article addressing concerns on the flotilla but also on the blockade.
Explore the legality of a blockade in times of war.
Consider this Haaretz Israeli newspaper critique, appropriate but balanced.

Finally, remember, both knee-jerk condemnation of Israel and blind rejection of any critique of Israel fail the test of realism. One may critique Israel from a place of love (see the Haaretz article above). Too often, however, Israel has been on the receiving end of condemnation of supposed massacres which later turn out to be overblown propaganda. So read Israeli newspapers leaning right (Jerusalem Post) and leaning left (Haaretz). And with patience, come to determine the facts.

Pay attention as the story unfolds over the coming weeks. Being a friend or lover of Israel is like being a friend or lover of anyone. It is a lifelong complex relationship. If you care enough (and we Jews should), then we will continue to engage in learning and understanding with openness to both supporting and when necessary sharing disappointment. We do both from love as we are guided by a hishtavut, levelheadedness.

Galilee Diary: Conflicting Memories

2010-06-01T17:53:26Z

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

...By virtue of our natural and historic right and on the strength of the resolution of the United Nations General Assembly, [we] hereby declare the establishment of a Jewish state in Eretz-Israel, to be known as the state of Israel.
-from the Israel Declaration of Independence, 1948

We recently engaged a new Arabic editor for our foundation's Hebrew-Arabic web newspaper www.dugrinet.co.il. While only in her early 30s, Samach has been working in Israeli Arab media since high school and has accumulated impressive experience, and we are excited finally to have found someone who can help us build the Arabic component of the website. I first met with her in early May, and in discussing what topics might be of interest to both populations, the Nakba came up. Nakba, or "disaster" in Arabic, is the word that has come to be commonly used to describe the experience of the Palestinian Arabs in Israel's War of Independence in 1948. For years, public discussion of that experience was pretty much non-existent in Israel. If the Arabs thought about it or talked about it, it remained below the radar. There were even years when the government checked to make sure that Israeli Arab schools were properly celebrating Independence Day. But the country has grown up a bit, and so have the Arabs, and in the past decade or so, the word has come to be a common part of public discourse. Loaded, emotionally charged, arousing powerful feelings, but out there.

]]> I learned from my conversation with Samach that the Nakba is now commemorated twice: Israeli Independence Day is observed as a national holiday according to the Hebrew calendar, on the 5th of Iyar, which falls on a different Gregorian date each year. Arabs, of course, have a day off just like everyone else. In the past, they simply treated it as a generic holiday, using it for family outings etc. However, in recent years, the leadership of the community has tried to educate the population regarding the historical meaning of the day for them, scheduling a public commemoration at the site of a destroyed village. My sense is that for most Israeli Arabs, the day remains a welcome vacation day, that can be enjoyed for what it is without too much guilt. Indeed, when our Jewish-Arab circus was invited to perform at an air force base on Independence Day, the Arab families were no less enthusiastic than the Jews about getting to see all that macho high-tech hardware close up. Meanwhile, however, the Gregorian date "officially" designated by the Arab leadership for commemorating the Nakba is May 15. On this day, in recent years, there have been large scale assemblies, and pilgrimages to destroyed villages. Sometimes these have morphed into angry demonstrations. It is fascinating to observe the ambivalence and division among the Israeli Palestinian Arabs with respect to these observances. As the immediate events recede into history (and as the generation who experienced them dies away), there are two competing forces: the movement toward forgetting, toward assimilation, toward wanting to get on with life in a modern democratic state - and the movement toward preserving, remembering, shoring up an identity of which the 1948 war was a major turning point. Samach pointed out that just as Jews cannot disconnect their identities from their historical memories (even though we often don't agree on just what the connection should be), so the Arabs face the challenge of trying to fit in, to "make it," without losing the roots and the memories that make them who they are.

Most Israeli Jews still cannot accept the public discussion of the Nakba, and the very sound of the word tends to provoke anger. Somehow it seems that the Arabs' insistence on remembering their defeat makes many Jews feel that they have not accepted it, and that commemoration of the Nakba is a tool in an unending irredentist campaign to undo 1948. The commemorations of recent years have given rise to several proposed laws (now pending) to make them illegal. It seems to me that people have a right to their feelings, their memories, and their identity, and that attempts to forbid, suppress, or delegitimize them are only destined to backfire, weakening rather than strengthening Israel's fragile social solidarity.

Galilee Diary: Standing at Sinai?

2010-05-25T15:17:50Z

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

On the day of the first fruits, your Feast of Weeks, when you bring an offering of new grain to the Lord, you shall observe a sacred occasion; you shall not work at your occupations.
-Numbers 28:26

Of the three pilgrimage festivals, Shavuot seems to have been the most difficult to translate into a meaningful holiday for Diaspora Jews. Pesach, with the seder, with its symbolic foods and powerful story; Sukkot, with its colorful symbols and observance - and both of these also have strong seasonal resonances of spring and fall (at least in the Northern Hemisphere) - while they may not be as central in Jewish consciousness as the High Holy Days, are nevertheless easy to relate to and remember. Poor Shavuot has been a harder sell. It doesn't have a clearly defined date in the Torah; it is only one day; it was, according to the Torah, completely tied to agriculture and to the Temple cult; thus, once the Temple was destroyed and our lives were not directly linked to the agriculture of Israel, Shavuot was orphaned. Fortunately, the rabbis figured out that the timing of the day fit with the timing of the revelation at Sinai, and, post-biblically, Shavuot took on the additional meaning of the Festival of the Giving of the Torah. This in turn led to the development, in the middle ages, of the "tikkun layl Shavuot," the custom of staying up into the night to engage in intensive study of Torah, as a kind of reliving of the revelation. And, since the prescribed texts for study in the tikkun represented the whole historical spectrum of traditional text, the tikkun was also a reaffirmation that all Torah learning, in all generations, originated at Sinai.

]]> Growing up in a Reform congregation, Shavuot was not exactly a major event; indeed, if not for confirmation, I doubt that most of us would have known it existed (and even then, it was generally observed on the nearest weekend, not on the holiday itself). Confirmation was a brilliant move - it made Shavuot, whose timing was opportune, into graduation. Without this content, the day would surely have just gotten lost in the commotion of the end of the school year.

For the Zionists who rebelled against Jewish religion, the obvious direction for Shavuot was the restoration of the biblical format, and for years, the First Fruits Festivals on kibbutzim, with elaborate pageants and parades displaying fruit and tractors and babies, and joyous singing and dancing, were a tourist attraction for urban Israelis and a symbol of what the return meant. For urban school children there were also first-fruit pageants and celebrations of the second-graders receiving their first Bible text. The tikkun was the preserve of the Orthodox for the most part - and of course, for everyone there was the [still essentially unexplained] custom of eating dairy foods, especially blintzes and cheesecake.

Over time, the divide has blurred, and in recent years, tikkunim are all the rage. I could have gone to at least one every night for the entire week before Shavuot in our area, not to mention the options all over the landscape on Shavuot eve itself. In Jerusalem, one can spend the whole night wandering from tikkun to tikkun, in homes, synagogues, community centers, educational institutions, of every religious and ideological flavor. Most of these gatherings use the name, but ignore the traditional format. They are simply evenings of study for the sake of study (and fellowship), and themes and topics are endless. The night before Shavuot eve our local recreation center put on an evening where the more spiritual topics tended to Zen and Yoga (raising the question - are Zen, and Yoga, in Hebrew at a tikkun, Torah?).

And of course regarding capitalism and Torah, the dairy industry spends months in preparation, and for the week before Shavuot there are long lines at the cheese counters, and free dairy cookbooks at all the supermarkets, and special deals on new flavored cream cheeses (e.g. this year, roasted eggplant cream cheese).

So how did we get from "I am the Lord your God" to roasted eggplant cream cheese? Isn't that what a Jewish state is all about?

Galilee Diary: Being Green

2010-05-17T16:27:04Z

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

When in your war against a city you have to besiege it a long time in order to capture it, you must not destroy its trees, wielding the ax against them. You may eat of them, but you must not cut them down.
-Deuteronomy 20:19

Living out here among the green valleys of the Galilee, it is interesting to consider our footprint:

Our county considers itself pretty advanced regarding recycling. Here on Shorashim (population - 80 households) there are separate bins in our parking lot for plastic bottles and bags, newspaper, white paper, cardboard, glass, and garden waste. While we pay deposits on wine bottles and beverage cans, the stores have made it so inconvenient to actually return the containers and retrieve the deposit that almost no one does, at best separating the materials in the recycling bins and forfeiting the deposit. Food cans go into the regular landfill garbage. The county offers plastic backyard composters at a subsidized cost, and they are quite popular here.
In addition, everyone has a solar hot water heater, and three neighbors have installed solar panel arrays, selling power back to the electric company. I know of a handful of others who, like me, have set up modest gray water systems (from the shower to the trees). A neighbor who wanted to put in a rain water cistern was deterred when he learned that the area of the cistern would be counted in the area of his home for calculating the monthly property tax.
I've noticed a couple of hybrids, a few green diesels (that get better mileage than hybrids), and about half a dozen SUVs.

]]>

I know of several homes heated by wood burning stoves, several more that use oil, but I think most people rely on heat pumps (i.e., room or central air conditioners that can be reversed). In mountain-top communities, wood or oil-fired furnaces are popular, but at our moderate altitude, it never gets very cold, so heat pumps are adequate and efficient.

While some families consulted with "green" architects, I don't think in the end that anyone has built a non-standard home (no mud plaster, no hay bales).

There are probably a dozen people who work at home or have offices here in the community, and an equal number who are picked up for work by their employer's van service. Everybody else drives to work, anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours. It appears to me that most people drive alone.

I encounter various neighbors on the moshav paths, jogging or biking or exercise-walking (them, not me); I suspect that a larger number drive to the gym for their exercise.

There is no store here, and while there are quite a few fruit trees, vegetable gardens are few and small. I know of one family who keep chickens. The only significant local product is olive oil (and cured olives). We do have a clothing exchange twice a year, which is always a great success (bring in your castoffs, go home with a new-to-you wardrobe - sometimes garments you've been coveting for years as you pass them on the path).

One of our founders, a landscape architect devoted to local, low-water gardening, designed our public gardens brilliantly. The place is lush, but largely with native, low-maintenance plantings. Not a lot of grass.

As a typical, educated, middle class community, we do our best to be environmentally correct, within, of course, a basic context that is anything but. Seeking out a synthesis between Zionist idealism (rooting Jews in the land) and "quality of life," we have created an automobile-dependent exurban sprawl that we try to green with composters and recycling campaigns. Of course I am not considering moving to a yurt and eating foraged groceries, but I think it important to recognize that one of the enemies we shall have to overcome in order to survive here is our own consumption, especially as it expresses itself in the sprawling attack on our scarce open space.

In Memory of Rabbi David Forman

2010-05-11T17:35:18Z

by Anat Hoffman
Executive Director of the Israel Religious Action Center
(Originally published on RACblog)

"I'm a civil war" - this is how Israeli poet Chaim Gouri described himself. After the death of Rabbi David Forman last Tuesday, I thought that he might have recognized himself in those words, too: From his student days in America with the Freedom Riders in the segregated South, to his founding of Rabbis for Human Rights and his consistent pursuit of "justice, justice" ever since, Rabbi Forman did not once let up the fight.

It is no easy thing to come to Israel and work for social change, to keep your Judaism intact while not letting the Jewish state cause you to forget the rights and humanity of everyone else. Yet Rabbi Forman built and lived a life in Israel according to his ideals, all while battling the civil war within himself, the contradictory impulses one can't help but feel here. So how did Rabbi Forman keep his sanity all these years, remain focused and not give in to defeat? I think he did it in three ways.

First, he wrote. He described Israel's internal struggles for American readers, and by documenting what he saw, he controlled the extent to which such wars could destroy him. Israelis, he understood, were schizophrenic - "one 'I' pulls in one direction while another 'I' pulls in the opposite direction and then a third and fourth 'I' pull in yet other directions" (Forman, Jewish Schizophrenia in the Land of Israel).

Next, he took action. He was the founder and spirit of Rabbis for Human Rights, "the rabbinic voice of conscience in Israel." He was also the architect of the North American Federation of Temple Youth (NFTY)-Israel program, creating the connection for countless numbers of young people between Judaism and Israel. While he could have chosen a different path, he lived by one of his favorite verses from Pirkei Avot: "Study is not the chief thing, but action." And he reminds us we need to keep up the work - "the Jewish state has yet to fulfill its historical and theological mission to become that 'holy nation:' a country based on the prophetic ideals of social justice and equality" (Forman, Fifty Ways to Be Jewish).

The third way: he loved his family. His wife, his daughters, their husbands, their families - and his seven grandchildren, Sivan, Binyamin, Yarden, Zohar, Tal, Shani and Nitai. "I pray, that as my grandchildren grow older, they will find their Jewish way in the world; and that their conduct will be determined by the historical traditions and practices of our people, which find their longevity and continued strength in a prophetic vision of social justice and equality, of personal commitment and collective responsibility, of familial respect and human dignity." His memory is a blessing.

Galilee Diary: Reform Zionism

2010-05-11T15:15:10Z

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

Justice, justice shall you pursue, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Lord your God is giving you.
-Deuteronomy 16:20

Among the programs operating at the Hebrew Union College Jerusalem campus are two different rabbinical training courses: since August, I have been directing the Israel Rabbinic Program, a four-year course of study designed to ordain Israelis to serve as Reform rabbis here. There are currently 22 students at various stages of completion. They tend to be in their 30s and 40s, often already experienced educators, from varied religious and cultural backgrounds. They study two days a week intensively, while also working on an MA in Jewish studies from an Israeli university. Meanwhile, we share the campus with another 50 or so full-time rabbinical (and cantorial and education) students spending their required first year in Israel before beginning their studies at New York, Cincinnati, or Los Angeles. They tend to be recent college graduates, from Reform backgrounds; their focus here is Hebrew language and Israel studies - and the experience of Jewish peoplehood. People often wonder why we operate two separate programs - after all, they're all learning to be Reform professional leaders. However, it is obviously not so simple - the gaps in age, experience, language, life-stage, and program structure make it quite challenging for the faculty to design even limited joint programs and shared experiences. Having decided to try harder, Rabbi Yoshi Zweiback (director of the program for the North Americans) and I have managed to pull off a couple of interesting experiments this year.

]]> Most recently, we held a joint study day on the topic of Reform Zionism - lectures, mixed discussion groups, a concluding panel. The discussions were lively and I think we achieved our goals. I personally had the privilege of introducing our featured guest speaker, Rabbi Richard Hirsch. When I was a kid at Union Institute Camp in Wisconsin, he was one of the dynamic young rabbis that turned us on to the connection between Judaism and the struggles for social justice that were so much in the center of American consciousness then; he went on to found the Religious Action Center, to march with King and Heschel. Enough for one resume. But then, in 1973 he made aliyah, and spent decades working to build the relationship between Zionism and Reform Judaism. That two-part career does not represent an obvious progression - I hope the students got its significance: I think it's not uncommon for those who are deeply committed to the universalistic, social-justice strand within Reform Judaism to keep their distance from Israel - because it represents the unabashedly ethnic/national/particularistic dimension of Judaism, and/or because as a society - or as a political entity - Israel doesn't always seem to behave according to our ethical preferences, leaving us frustrated/annoyed/turned off. When Dick Hirsch moved from Washington to Jerusalem he didn't leave his commitment to universalistic ethics behind - on the contrary, he made a powerful statement that is or should be the guiding principle of Reform Judaism in the Zionist context: if there is one place in the world where we Reform Jews have the opportunity and the obligation to translate our universalistic ethical principles into the messy reality of the political world, it is here, in the country that purports to be the Jewish state, the one place in the world where we are sovereign, where the buck stops with us. If we don't lead the way to building a state that is a Jewish state worthy of the name (and I don't just mean that Reform rabbis will have equal rights to marry), then, ultimately, Zionism will have failed, and Reform Judaism will be exposed as irrelevant to Jewish history.

Dick Hirsch is in his mid-80s, but he remains a great speaker. I only hope the students understood who and what they were hearing.

Galilee Diary: Letting Go

2010-05-04T14:51:08Z

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

Leaning on the lessons of the past in order to build a future, using the suffering of the past as a political argument, are like inviting the dead to participate in the democratic process of the living.
-Professor Judah Elkanah, 1988

In the middle of the counting of the Omer, the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuot, the fields of the Jezreel valley are golden with ripening grain, the carob trees are heavy with bright green pods, there are peaches in the market, and hollyhocks are blooming along the roadsides. A friend once commented that hollyhocks make her sad, as they are the last in the sequence of spring wildflowers to bloom; they mark the end of spring, and once they appear, the dry season is about to begin. In northern climates, spring is a time of promise that leads into the lushness of summer; here in the Middle East, the joy of spring gets us only as far as the sadness of the hollyhocks, and then we have to lie low for six months and long for the relief of the first showers of fall.

The tradition defines the period of the counting of the Omer as a time of mourning, for reasons that remain unclear (a plague? the catastrophe of the Bar Kochba revolt? concern for the vulnerable ripening grain?). And modern Israel has placed within this period Yom Hashoah - and a week later Yom Hazikaron, the memorial day for fallen soldiers and for civilians killed by enemy action. Interesting how nature, religious tradition, and nationalist symbols, all seem to come together during this time. As the world dries out around us, and the landscape fades from lush green to thorny brown in what seems like just a few days, we find ourselves looking back, preoccupied with sad memories and with the attempt of find meaning in them. In this dry time when nature's face is bleak, we mourn those who suffered and perished in the confrontations with evil in the past century; we remember those who were cut off and weep for the lost potential, for what might have been. And we express our feelings with traditional expressions of memorialization like reciting Kaddish, lighting candles, visiting graves.

]]> Remembering, commemorating - come naturally. For me, as a rather rationalistic Reform Jew, they are the key to immortality - we keep the dead alive in our memory and in our rituals and symbols of memorialization. The difficult dilemma is to decide what meaning we will take from our memories, and how our memories of the past will influence our behavior in the future. It's one thing, of course to pledge to carry forward the endeavors and the values of those who went before us. But that's not the same as drawing policy conclusions, or building political platforms or foreign policy or electoral rhetoric on those memories. There seems to me a fine (or not so fine) line between consecrating the memories of our beloved dead - and desecrating them.

Most of the political elite of Israel seem to have found opportunities on Yom Hashoah and/or Yom Hazikaron to talk about Ahmedinejad or Obama. But the question is, is it helpful to see history through mythological glasses? Was Hitler Pharaoh? Was Arafat Hitler? Is every anti-Semite Haman? Is every critic of Israeli policy Amalek? Have we Jews always been - and will we always be - victims of evil forces, or do we ever bear some responsibility for our own fate? Glib comparisons and cheap exploitation of the enormous sufferings of those who went before us seem to me to dishonor their memory. It is tempting, at this season, to allow the Jewish traditions of memorialization to morph into opportunities for nationalistic sloganeering. The memories of the victims of the Holocaust - and of those who sacrificed their lives to create and preserve the state of Israel - deserve better than that.

New Bill Would be "Disastrous to the Unity of the Jewish People"

2010-04-30T18:09:01Z

by Kate Bigam
Press Secretary, Religious Action Center
Originally posted on the RACblog

Israeli Knesset Member David Rotem, who has proposed a piece of legislation dealing with conversion in Israel, met earlier this week with leaders of the North American Jewish community to discuss the bill's possible ramifications. Following a series of discussions with Rotem in new York City, the Conservative, Reform and Reconstructionist movements together issued a joint statement expressing our disapproval of the bill and our concern about its potential ramifications.

The statement is after the jump. Read more about this bill in this story or this one, both from JTA, and in this op-ed by Rabbi Uri Regev, president of Hiddush, a group that advocates for religious freedom in Israel.

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We are appreciative of the substantial amount of time MK David Rotem devoted to meetings with us, individually and collectively, during his visit to the United States to discuss the legislation he has sponsored in the Knesset dealing with conversion and the Law of Return. We also welcome Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs Daniel Ayalon's participation in many of our meetings.

It should, first, be emphasized that we deeply appreciate Mr. Rotem's stated goal in advancing the legislation - to ameliorate the bottleneck in the conversion process that currently keeps as many as 350,000 thousand olim (immigrants) from the former Soviet Union from converting to Judaism. The laudable goal of attempting to hasten the process of conversion for these individuals - who currently serve in the Israeli army and contribute positively to Israeli society - is one that deserves widespread attention and support. Together, we thank MK Rotem for his efforts in addressing this crisis.

MK Rotem believes his proposed legislation would rapidly open the door to a faster conversion process. We respectfully disagree. Not only would this legislation fail to achieve his forecasted result, the collateral damage to the 85% of world Jewry who are not Orthodox (and perhaps others who are) would be disastrous to the unity of the Jewish people in a number of ways.

The bill threatens to alter the Law of Return and consolidate conversion power into the hands of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel. Both of these results could have devastating effects on the relationship between Israeli and Diaspora Jewry and thus on the broader unity of the Jewish people. Such concentration of power in favor of Ultra-Orthodox Jewry effectively negates the roles of the non-Orthodox movements both within Israel and abroad, sending the message that only the Orthodox have a place within our Homeland.

Specifically, the current formulations of Article 1 would legislate the role and status of the Chief Rabbinate in a way not previously written into law. Such legislation would turn back the clock on 20 years of hard-won accomplishments in the Israeli High Court and complicate future efforts to appeal to the Court, which has been the single mechanism to counter religious discrimination in Israel.

This bill returns us to the destructive "who is a Jew" question, that has previously threatened to divide World Jewry, as it does today. To explicitly connect conversion to a single religious stream, while making no mention of other streams of Judaism, is by definition to compromise and jeopardize the Law of Return, as it places the decision for "who is a Jew" in the hands of one group. Such an action is inconsistent with the democratic ideals on which the State of Israel was founded and relies, and would detrimentally affect the worldwide Jewish community.

Further compounding our concern is the fact that the bill mentions no alternative method of conversion via non-Orthodox streams. We - and more importantly, our Israeli colleagues and their lawyers - believe that this language, if adopted as written, would further marginalize and hamper the Masorti and Reform movements in Israel. This would be a tragic consequence as we offer vibrant religious alternatives to a nation of Jews religiously alienated by the increasingly extreme positions of a minority religious establishment. We firmly believe that any conversion legislation must explicitly address these concerns.

We are additionally troubled by language that provides that any person who entered Israel while ineligible to receive Israeli citizenship under the Law of Return will remain ineligible following conversion. Though MK Rotem says this language exists to outlaw the possibility of illegal immigrants undergoing conversion solely to obtain Israeli citizenship and remain in the country, the reality is that this deeply troubling clause differentiates between those who are born Jewish and those who choose to be Jewish, amending the Law of Return to exclude those who have made a conscious decision to join the Jewish community. For 2,000 years, Judaism has treated Jews-by-choice the same as Jews-by-birth. We are taught "as soon as a convert emerges from the mikvah (ritual bath) she or he is Jewish for all purposes." (Talmud, Yevamot 47b) We see no justification now for differentiating between groups of Jews or including an article with such severe ramifications in the framework of a law purportedly dealing with easing conversion procedures.

While we recognize the goals Mr. Rotem is working to achieve and deeply respect his efforts, we cannot lend our support to a bill that will have such devastating ramifications. This moment, when Israel faces a great many challenges, both at home and abroad, is no time to enact legislation that has the potential to divide the Jewish community or to alienate Diaspora Jewry.

Even as we expressed our concerns to Deputy Foreign Minister Ayalon and MK Rotem, we also emphasized our steadfast love and commitment to the people and State of Israel. It is in this spirit of unity that we stand shoulder to shoulder with our colleagues in the Masorti and Reform movements in Israel and with one another. Indeed, it is our unconditional love for Israel as both a sovereign nation and a worldwide Jewish community that calls us to urge, in the strongest possible terms, upon MK Rotem, the Yisrael Beitenu party, and Prime Minister Netanyahu to withdraw this bill and introduce legislation that resolves the urgent problems of olim from the former Soviet Union without compromising either the core democratic values of the State or the Law of Return.

Galilee Diary: Right and Responsibility

2010-04-27T15:34:03Z

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

The official shall go on addressing the troops and say, "Is there anyone afraid and disheartened? Let him go back to his home, lest the courage of his comrades flag like his."
-Deuteronomy 20:8

Dugrinet (www.dugrinet.co.il), our Hebrew-Arabic internet magazine, has begun to sponsor public events as a way of creating a relationship between the site and the community. Last week, we held a panel discussion on the topic of national service by Arab youth. This is part of a larger, ongoing discussion (sometimes rational, sometimes not) in Israeli society about conscription.

It is a pillar of mainstream Israeli ideology that army service is a sacred obligation, a key Zionist mitzvah that has made possible "the Jewish emergence from powerlessness." It is considered heretical to question this value. And indeed, about 75% of Jewish 18-year olds are drafted. Among girls, about another 20% do alternative national service in hospitals, schools, etc. These are primarily Orthodox girls whose religious commitments make it impractical for them to serve in the army. Among boys, around 15% are exempted for medical, psychological, and other reasons, and over 10% are exempted as they are full-time yeshivah students. This category is hotly controversial, and is a major source of the antagonism felt by the general population toward the Ultra-Orthodox. It is also a contributing factor to the widespread poverty among the Ultra-Orthodox, because in order to receive a yeshivah-study deferment you must be a full-time student and thus may not be employed.

]]> Regarding the Arab population, the state made the decision at the outset not to draft them, for obvious reasons (and probably unavoidable, even though one can wonder, in hindsight, if it was in fact a good idea); then in 1956, the Druze community agreed that its males be drafted, and about 85% of them serve. Among the Christians and Muslims, those who volunteer to serve constitute just a few percent. Almost no Arab girls, of any religion, serve in the army.

Over the years, the idea of alternative national service for Arabs has been in the air, and surveys have consistently shown that a majority of the Arab and Jewish populations favor it. Indeed, many wonder why we don't introduce the European model of compulsory service for everyone, with a variety of military and civilian options to choose from. It seems that the reason service for the Arabs has not developed (currently about 1,000 serve, about 3%) has been the unwillingness of the government to budget for the costs of the positions - and of the benefits to which the participants would be entitled.

Meanwhile, opposition to national service has been strident on the part of the political leadership of the Arab community, based on a number of arguments: a) Rejection of the "rights for responsibilities" rhetoric popular among Jewish Israelis ("if you want equal rights, you have to take on equal responsibilities"); the Arabs point out that that is not the norm in most countries: rights should be absolute, not conditional - "First treat us as equals, then we'll be happy to serve." b) National service is part of the defense establishment and they don't want to be part of it. c) Filling paid positions with volunteers contributes to the already severe unemployment in Arab communities. We heard all these arguments from one of our panelists last week, and I think it's fair to say that most of the Jews in the audience found themselves shaking their heads in frustration at what seems an irrational rejection of a project that can only benefit the Arab community and the country as a whole. And we applauded Lafez, the dynamic young director of the community center in the Muslim village of Dir el Assad, when he spoke passionately of the benefits to the kids and the community that he sees accruing to his national service volunteers - and when he accused the communal leadership of political opportunism on the backs of their own community.

The number of volunteers has gone up every year, but the opposition in the community has also become more strident. It seems to me that the state has an urgent interest in heading off the opposition by finally making a concerted effort to draw these kids into the program - or by instituting universal compulsory service.

Heroes

2010-04-23T15:10:02Z

by Phyllis Sommer
Originally posted on Ima on (and off) the Bima

What I love so much about Israel are the remarkable stories. "Only in Israel" is a phrase that I love to hear. On a visit to Israel in 2008, I heard this remarkable tale...

It was the War of Independence. Ilana was a teenager, a volunteer in Moshav Shafir. She, along with other teenaged volunteers, had been recruited as a saboteur. The tanks were coming, a long line of them, up through Gaza from Egypt. She and her fellow saboteurs were ordered to find all the explosives they could and place them under the bridge in Shafir, to blow up the bridge as soon as the first tank was on the bridge.

All the women and children had been evacuated from the area in anticipation of the arrival of the tanks, so the girls had been told. Ilana and her team stationed themselves directly under the bridge, awaiting their task.

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Ilana, a young woman who became a heroine. Today Ilana is an older lady (she refused to reveal her age...a lady never tells), telling her story to groups of visitors to Shafir, standing on the bridge that she did not blow up. (The tanks never got that far.)

On the day we heard her story, another woman came over as Ilana finished telling her story. She was introduced to our group as "the pregnant woman's baby" - Ilana had never met her before. But these two were forever linked by their story, their part in the formation of the young State. (The baby who cried, so they said, grew up to be a member of Knesset...) I felt goose bumps on my skin as these two women met and embraced. They were like long-lost sisters, joined by history.

The heroes of Eretz Yisrael are not politicians and soldiers (although they are so often heroes as well), but they are the ordinary citizens who have stories of their own to tell. These stories are what fill me up in the Land of Israel, and make the Land come alive.

Sixty-two years of stories...may the future bring so many more.

Thirteen Things I Love About Israel: Reflections on Yom Ha'atzma'ut

2010-04-21T17:16:51Z

by JanetheWriter
(Also posted on JanetheWriter Writes)

On this Yom Ha'atzma'ut, inspired by fellow bloggers Ima on (and off) the Bima and Rabbi Paul Kipnes, I've compiled my own list of 13 things I love about Israel. Although I've been there only twice (both times within the last six years), and haven't yet had the pleasure of a Dead Sea float, an Eilat mud bath or a sunrise hike to Masada, there's still plenty I know and love:

1. The tarmac at the old Ben Gurion Airport: wet, oily, dirty, Israel!
2. Breakfast of briny olives, cucumber and tomato salad, thick yogurt, smoky cheese and crusty bread. Who needs Cheerios or Kix?!
3. The cool clear water of the Mediterranean. It'll wash away whatever ails you.
4. Ben Yehuda Street. Thus far I've only had a chance to rush through right before Shabbat, as the shopkeepers were closing up, but someday (hopefully soon), I know I'll stroll through leisurely on Motzei Shabbat.
5. Riding along the highway in a tour bus and feeling a chill with the sudden realization that I'm in Israel!
6. Waving to oh-so-many familiar faces during kabbalat Shabbat services at Kehilat Kol Haneshama.
7. Rolling a tiny note like a chiffonade before stuffing it into the ancient crevices in the Western Wall.
8. Standing at the Haas Promenade overlooking Jerusalem of Gold.
9. Israeli flags flying in crystalline skies.
10. The "only in Jerusalem" experience of bumping into people you know, but didn't know would be there at the same time. (Yes, it happened to me the very first time I was there...and the second time, too!)
11. The peppery onion board sold by an unnamed bakery on Jaffa's Razi'el Street.
12. The view from the patio of the King David Hotel.
13. The idea that my next visit isn't too far in the future...and even if it is, I know that it's definitely worth the wait.

Happy birthday, Israel....see you again soon!

Galilee Diary: Definitions VI

2010-04-20T19:58:23Z

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

Rabbi Abba said in the name of Samuel: for three years the School of Shammai and the School of Hillel were in disagreement, each insisting that the halachah was according to its view. A heavenly voice was heard, saying "Both views are the words of the living God, and the halachah is according to the School of Hillel." But if both are the words of the living God, why did the School of Hillel merit that the halachah followed its view? Because they were soft-spoken and humble, and taught both their view and the view of the School of Shammai - and even mentioned the opinion of the School of Shammai first.
-Babylonian Talmud, Eruvin 13b

A couple of months ago I began a series of entries trying to explain the fine points of difference among the religious "streams" in Israel. Before moving on, herewith a scorecard, to help keep track of the players (in rough order of numbers):

1. Cultural, non-religious Zionism: The "mainstream" of Israeli culture that has dominated the education system and public life for a century. Sees Judaism as a national culture (like Frenchness for French people, or Polishness for Poles), in which the symbols of the Jewish tradition are secular, cultural symbols, no longer necessarily connected to religious belief. The prime exponent of this approach, Achad Ha'am, was a strong influence on Mordecai Kaplan, founder of Reconstructionism in North America.

]]> 2. Traditionalist Zionism: The approach that characterized the waves of immigration from North Africa and the Middle East; a cultural definition that keeps within it many customs and behaviors rooted in Orthodox norms: e.g., my friend who doesn't normally attend synagogue or consider himself "religious," but when visiting the states with a group on Yom Kippur walked miles (to a Reform synagogue) rather than drive on the holiday.

3. Orthodox Zionism: The Jewish state is the "first flowering of our redemption" - its existence has religious significance and thus must be supported and respected, and characterized by a lifestyle and culture in consonance with halachah.

4. Orthodox non-Zionism: The Jewish state is just another secular state that happens to be located in our holy land. It is not the beginning of the redemption - it has no religious meaning. We must live our lives here as we did and would in any Orthodox community elsewhere.

5. Messianic Orthodox Zionism: The dawning of the redemption we have seen in the past century requires us to be proactive in bringing about the conditions for its fulfillment, e.g., the conquest of all of the biblically-defined land of Israel.

6. Anti-religious Zionism: Judaism the religion was a temporary measure associated with exile; now that we have returned to a normal, national existence, it has become obsolete and counterproductive.

7. Liberal religious Zionism: The synthesis between a Judaism based on a rational understanding of human autonomy and historical development - and an enlightened modern state in Israel - can advance the cause of redemption.

8. Orthodox anti-Zionism: God has not given us any sign that redemption is near, and thus we are forbidden to try to create a Jewish state. This faction refuses to pay taxes or vote or receive state medical benefits etc.

9. Universalistic anti-Zionism: Ethnic nation-states and nationalism in general are factors that generate conflict and hatred, and Judaism should have no part in them. Hence, a Jewish state is a passé if not reactionary concept.

#1 and #2 above are sort of the general baseline, the background noise, of Israeli life. All of the others may be found in specific movements, political parties, and/or communities. Lots of voices - but all of them, whether we like it or not, have something of value to say.

An Israeli Perspective: Israeli Memorial and Independence Day

2010-04-19T16:20:15Z

by Hanan Cidor
Originally published in iTorah. Subscribe to iTorah

Being an Israeli, one of the hardest things to deal with, and as far as I know it is unique to Israel, is the seemingly unbelievable and immediate passage between sorrow and celebration, as portrayed in the pairing of Yom Hazikaron (Israel's Memorial Day) and Yom Ha'Atzmaut (Israel's Independence Day). The idea behind this is that the day before celebrating our independence, we are reminded of the price and sacrifice made by so many in order to keep us free.

If you've never been in Israel during those two days, nothing can possibly explain the experience and the kind of emotions that it evokes. After a full day of grief and remembrance, something that is very much relevant from a personal standpoint to literally every Israeli, we go rather abruptly to a truly joyous celebration of our freedom and achievements during Israel's Independence Day.

Those achievements are indeed very impressive. In just 62 years, Israel has managed to become a regional power, a modern, flourishing democracy in a region that has very little. In almost every possible measurement of world countries and societies, the Jewish state, especially when taking into consideration its small size, is at the top of the ladder alongside countries that have been around for centuries. When you think about the fact that all of this was done while facing constant security threats, some of them even starting literally from day one, the amazement and sense of awe is even greater.

]]> But Israel's achievements are not and should not be measured only in comparison to how other states perform. After all, part of the whole idea behind the creation of the State of Israel is to see if Jews can, over 2,000 years after the last time we "took a crack at it," actually handle themselves independently, be masters of their own fate, and create a society based on a combination of human values and Jewish culture and heritage. When looking at Israel through this "Jewish" prism, the list of achievements is also quite impressive. As one example of having done something that was seemingly impossible, I point to the revival of Hebrew as our people's language. To think that millions of Jews are being raised today in Israel having not English, German, Russian, or Yiddish as their main tongue but Hebrew - a language previously restricted to scripture alone, is nothing short of amazing.

Nevertheless, sixty two years is also very young, especially to have suffered so much loss and dire threats. Of course, this sort of experience is not without consequences. No different than most other Israelis, I too have lost friends who died while serving their country in the Israeli army. Regardless of past and future achievements of the State of Israel, their lives are forever lost and those who knew and loved them are left with a hole that can never be filled.

One of the "little traditions" we have in my family during Yom Hazikaron is to keep the TV on throughout the day on a special channel that for 24 hours shows nothing but the names of all of the soldiers and victims of terrorist attacks who have died since the day of Israel's birth. I know that many families in Israel do the same, and I think there's something very Jewish about that act. In a sense, it's our way of reminding ourselves that every person matters, that everyone had a name and an entire life to go with it - a whole universe that was lost in a tragic way.

So no, Israel is not perfect. In addition to the tremendous loss of human life, like every other Israeli, I can name off the top of my head a whole list of things that I don't like about my country. The thing is, none of these things will ever make me doubt my love and sense of pride for Israel, primarily because it belongs to me, and any other Jew who chooses to care or identify with it. Israel is our creation, the grand project of the Jewish people, and like every artist that has worked hard on a new creation, no one can be more critical than us towards what we have made; but at the same time no one can love the creation more than the artist who has put his heart and soul into his work.

Yom Ha'Atzmaut has always been my favorite holiday of the year. Not because I don't like any of the other holidays, but because in my view it is probably the only holiday where we celebrate a project that is still ongoing; where all of us can make a difference and shape the way this wonderful country, filled with our people, will look in the next year and the one after that. In my eyes, taking an active involvement in the shaping of our country and our people is the best way to commemorate the memory of those who have died defending it. Nothing is worth celebrating more than that.

Related Questions

How do most Israelis celebrate Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'atzmaut?
Yom Hazikaron is observed as a national day of public mourning with ceremonies in schools, offices and other public places. The military cemeteries are filled with family members and friends of fallen soldiers who come to mourn the loss of their loved ones, whether the death occurred decades or even a few days prior. Twice during the day the entire country literally comes into a stop as a siren is heard all throughout Israel and everyone stands at attention for two minutes.

On the eve of Yom Ha'Atzmaut people go out to the streets and celebrate together at outdoor concerts and parties all across the country. Fireworks are flown into the sky and barbecues can be seen (and smelled) wherever you go. The following day is celebrated as a national holiday where friends and families gather together, usually outside under the sun, to eat, laugh and enjoy each other's company. Nature reserves, museums and other attractions are open to the public - mostly for free. During the day, Israel holds the world Torah championship for teenagers and also gives out the prestigious "Israel prize" to individuals who excel in a variety of fields.

How can I celebrate Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'atzmaut?
For Yom Hazikaron, consider having a ceremony at your TYG or school commemorating the day, where you can read out names of fallen soldiers that can be found in the official Israeli database (you can ask a rabbi or a teacher to help with the translation). You can also wear the special "Yizkor" sticker worn by Israelis during the day. Another option is to stand at attention for two minutes along side Israelis at 8pm Israel time on Sunday, April 18th.

For Yom Ha'Atzmaut, consider having a party or a special meal to celebrate the occasion. You can run an Israel program at your TYG or school from NFTY's Israel program bank. Consider changing your Facebook profile picture to that of the Israeli flag for that day (April 20th) or wishing Israel a happy birthday on your status.

How can I find more information about these holidays?
You can go to the NFTY holiday pages dedicated to Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'Atzmaut or to the official website of Israel's ministry of foreign affairs where you can learn about the entire history of Israel.

Food for Thought

As a Jew residing in North America, do you feel like Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha'atzmaut are important to your Jewish identity? Why or why not?

Hanan Cidor is the Shaliach to NFTY. Hanan grew up in Noar Telem, the Reform youth movement in Israel, and at Kol Haneshama, a Reform congregation in Jerusalem. Hanan moved to New York City in September 2008 following 5 years of IDF service.

Galilee Diary: And now for something completely different

2010-04-12T19:50:41Z

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

You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart. Reprove your kinsman but incur no guilt because of him. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against your countrymen. Love your fellow as yourself: I am the Lord.
-Leviticus 19:17-18

Herewith a translation of a piece I recently published in www.dugrinet.co.il, the Hebrew-Arabic internet magazine sponsored by our foundation.

Once the Chilazoner Rebbe was sitting with his Hasidim around the holiday table, and he told the following parable:

Once I was driving along the highway and a car passed me and cut in quickly in front of me, cutting me off. "Damn Arab kids," I said. "They have no respect for the laws of the land, not even for the traffic laws. They whine about having no rights, but they refuse to accept responsibility!" A few minutes later I found myself stopped at a red light next to the car that had passed me. The driver was Ultra-Orthodox.

]]> Once I was driving along the highway and a car passed me and cut in quickly in front of me, cutting me off. "Damn Ultra-Orthodox," I said. "They have no respect for the laws of the land, not even for the traffic laws. They think they are holier than the rest of us, that they can run the country as they want, forcing everyone else onto the shoulder." A few minutes later I found myself stopped at a red light next to the car that had passed me. The driver was a settler.

Once I was driving along the highway and a car passed me and cut in quickly in front of me, cutting me off. "Damn settlers," I said. "They have no respect for the laws of the land, not even for the traffic laws. They think they can hold the rest of us hostage to their messianic meshuggas - driving us all to disaster." A few minutes later I found myself stopped at a red light next to the car that had passed me. I recognized the driver from his picture in the business section of the paper, a prominent lawyer from Herzliya.

Once I was driving along the highway and a car passed me and cut in quickly in front of me, cutting me off. "Damn North Tel Aviv snobs," I said. "They have no respect for the laws of the land, not even for the traffic laws. They throw around their money and power and treat the whole country as if it were their own private estate." A few minutes later I found myself stopped at a red light next to the car that had passed me. The driver was my neighbor.

Once I was driving along the highway, in a hurry to pick up my kid from the Acco train station. I passed a whole lineup of cars moving irritatingly slowly, and then had to squeeze back into the right lane before the West Acco intersection. A traffic cop pulled me over after the light. "What, did I do something wrong?" I asked him incredulously. "Are you kidding?" He sneered. "You just cut off that whole line of cars - an Arab, an Ultra-Orthodox, a settler, a lawyer, and a local." You almost caused a serious accident!"

"Wow," I said. "I didn't see them. I really didn't see them."

There was silence at the table as the Hasidim contemplated their master's deep wisdom. Then one spoke up, hesitantly: "Perhaps the Master would agree to interpret the parable?"

But the Rebbe would only repeat the last sentence: "I didn't see them. I really didn't see them."

And those who have understanding will understand.

Galilee Diary: Definitions V

2010-04-07T15:35:39Z

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

May it by Your will, our God and God of our ancestors, that You lead us and guide our steps in peace...and bring us safely to our desired destination - in life, in joy, and in peace...
-From the traditional travelers' prayer

On a recent Friday afternoon Tami went up to bring a cake to a new young family who had just bought a house here in Shorashim. The woman was wearing jeans. The man was wearing a large, knitted kipah. Tami mentioned that kabbalat Shabbat services would be at 6:00. The man said that our synagogue was not appropriate for him. Turns out that he is from a non-religious (yes, non-religious: not Orthodox, not Reform, not Conservative, not Reconstructionist, not Renewal...) Jewish background, and has begun a process of what is called in common parlance here "strengthening," meaning, moving toward Orthodoxy. Therefore, our egalitarian synagogue is not a place where he feels comfortable praying. Presumably, his wife will not attend because she remains non-religious, and so doesn't feel comfortable praying in any synagogue. They are the second family here to represent this process and this mix. And they are among thousands like them throughout Israeli society. The commonly held view of the polarized division between Orthodox and non-Orthodox is in fact far from accurate. While there are all sorts of examples of opposition and active conflict, of mutual fear, there is also heavy traffic along the paths leading in both directions - from Orthodoxy to other definitions, and from other positions toward Orthodoxy. I have not seen statistics, but anecdotal evidence suggests that flow in both directions is deep and wide. Just as we have several examples of "born-again" Orthodox here in our little community, we also have at least as many who would fit the slang definition of "datlash," (an acronym for "formerly religious"). These personal religious journeys, as well as marriages across the lines of religious definition, lead to a reality in which it seems like every extended family contains a variety of disparate positions. One sees these especially at life cycle observances and Passover sedarim, when the families gather and you can tell from the headgear and the skirt length that the whole spectrum is represented.

]]> It seems easier to understand the movement away from Orthodoxy, as contact with the attractions of the secular, global, majority culture, in the media, in the army, in the workplace, in higher education, lead many Orthodox people to question their allegiance to the strictures of a halachic lifestyle, or simply make it difficult to maintain. They experience the conflict between traditional authority and the autonomy of the individual, and are slowly drawn in (or suddenly swept away) - or fall in love with a partner from "the other world." Indeed, it seems to me that to a large extent the anti-modern militancy and isolationism of the ultra-Orthodox is a response to this temptation - if they demonize the open society, then maybe their children will be less attracted to it (the best defense is a good offense). What is more surprising is the extent of the movement in the opposite direction - the thousands of people, especially young adults, who choose to give up the pleasures of the permissive society in favor of the inconveniences of halachah. While in recent years some have found their way to the liberal movements, the vast majority who decide to "become religious" understand their only authentic option to be Orthodoxy (much as we don't like it, the Hebrew word "dati," meaning religious, is universally understood to mean Orthodox, and when we protest that that is not accurate, we get impatient looks). There are plenty of Orthodox rabbis actively engaged in missionizing among the non-religious population - through local study groups, through revival meetings, through youth activities and social services. However, it seems obvious that most of those who become involved are not being tricked - they are finding something they've been looking for. We liberals can be angry and feel that there's some kind of unfair manipulation going on here, but it seems to me that the phenomenon is less the result of Orthodox aggressiveness than it is evidence of the failure of secular Israeli culture to provide satisfying spiritual answers to an increasing number of young people.

Galilee Diary: Definitions IV

2010-04-01T15:44:02Z

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

Esther did not reveal her people or her kindred, for Mordecai had told her not to reveal it.
-Esther 2:10

At a recent in-service day for coordinators and facilitators in the ORT "Jewish roots" program, one of the guest speakers was Hannah Azulai, one of the most popular and busy actresses in Israel today (stage, screen, and TV). She told her life story - and it was interesting and moving (needless to say, she knows how to tell a story). Her parents were immigrants from Morocco in the 50s - her father a blind Torah scholar who worked here as a janitor, her mother illiterate, she was raised in Beersheba's tough "Neighborhood D." Interestingly, Tami and I spent a year in Neighborhood D, when Hannah Azulai was about ten years old; she was probably one of the kids we used to see around the shopping center. She spent a couple of decades of her life trying to suppress and hide her Moroccan origins, and to "pass for white" in order to make it in elite Ashkenazi society - and there were plenty of well-meaning educators and mentors who were only too eager to help her with this project. Only as a successful adult was she able (with the help of her husband, playwright Samuel Hasfari) to confront this cover-up and reclaim her identity, with sympathy for and pride in her family and what they had experienced in the transition of aliyah. Awareness of her not atypical experience is important for understanding another dimension of the complex religious tapestry of Israel.

]]> The drama of Zionist vs. anti-Zionist Orthodoxy; indeed the whole onslaught by modern movements on traditional Jewish society and the ensuing polarization and petrification - are almost entirely an Ashkenazi phenomenon. And so these conflicts were central components of public discourse and political life in pre-1948 Palestine, when Ashkenazim dominated the society, and Zionism was a European movement. However, the huge wave of immigration from North Africa and the Middle East in the 50s and 60s shifted the balance, so that "Oriental" Jews became the majority. The culture of these immigrants was different in a number of ways, one of which was that they had mostly missed the 19th century confrontation with modernity, and hence were not particularly interested in the religious and cultural wars of the Ashkenazim. For them, tradition was not ideology, it was just what they had inherited, and their observance of the mitzvot was not generally accompanied by an ideological rationale. They came to define themselves as "masorti," or traditional (i.e., neither Orthodox nor secular).

The Conservative movement, in what seems to me to have been an attempt to co-opt this population, took the Hebrew name "Masorti" - but this has only created confusion, and has certainly not drawn in the masses of Oriental Jews, who tend to view the liberal movements with some suspicion. After all, these movements are nothing if not Ashkenazi and ideological, and even now, half a century after this wave of immigration, the elites of Israeli society remain disproportionately Ashkenazi, and the feelings of resentment and alienation on the part of the Oriental Jews continue to find expression in politics and culture at all levels.

Thus, there are a couple of different conversations one can have here as a Reform Jew, and I've had them both. With a committed Orthodox Jew, one has to argue against the ideological position that God gave all the mitzvot at Mt. Sinai, that there is a chain of authority descending from Moses to the local rabbi, and that denying that chain and usurping that authority is a violation of God's will and a danger to the Jewish people: An argument about basic beliefs.

With a masorti Jew, the argument takes place on a different plane. "This is how we've all always done it, this is what Judaism is, this is who we are, this is what makes us Jewish and keeps us a people - how is it conceivable that you would reject/undermine/undo/re-form these traditional norms:" A conversation about identity - or perhaps not really a conversation at all.

Galilee Diary: Definitions III

2010-03-23T19:31:01Z

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

Jacob awoke from his sleep and said, "Surely the Lord is present in this place, and I did not know it!" Shaken, he said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the abode of God, and that is the gateway to heaven."
-Genesis 28:16-17

Recently I led a day trip for the Avshalom Institute, one of a number of organizations around the country providing adult education programming on "Israel studies," including lectures, courses, and field trips. The clientele are mostly active senior citizens, and many of the programs are quite rich, with prominent academic lecturers. Our topic was "the 'streams' of Judaism in the Galilee." After an introductory lecture on the development of the denominations, especially Reform, we went on to four encounters:

At the Conservative kibbutz, Hannaton, we met the new young rabbi, Yoav Ende, who explained both the philosophy of the movement and the story of the community - a kibbutz that failed (socially and economically) in the past, but is now going through a rebirth. The participants, who were pretty much all from the sector that defines itself as "secular," found it difficult to place the boundaries - between Reform and Conservative - and between Conservative and Orthodox: "So, if you follow halachah, how are you different from Orthodox? But if you apply your own reasoning to change the halachah, how are you different from Reform?"

]]> And the questions continued on the bus all the way to the next stop, Kibbutz Lavi, one of the pillars of the Orthodox kibbutz movement. Our hostess, Sheila, from London, was one of the founders in the late 40s. Her self-deprecating, ironic British humor, her swashbuckling stories of the early days, and her love for the kibbutz, won the crowd over: "If all the Orthodox were like you, we'd all be Orthodox." There is of course an internal contradiction in the very term "Orthodox kibbutz," as was clear from Sheila's story of the time the kibbutz chairman and the rabbi went head-to-head: the chairman insisted that on a kibbutz, authority resides in the general assembly; the rabbi insisted that in an Orthodox community, authority resides in the rabbi. A fascinating and inescapable dilemma.

On to Khirbet Ammudim, a few miles away, where the ruin of a third century synagogue sits in the middle of a cow pasture. There we discussed the fact that in all the many early synagogues excavated in the Galilee and Golan, no one has ever found evidence of a women's section - yet the Talmud refers to women attending synagogue. Mixed seating? Women outside? A wooden partition that left no trace? Given the lack of evidence, everyone is free to conjecture according to what s/he wants to be the right answer...

We ended the day at Kibbutz Yagur, famous for leading the way in producing an elaborate Passover seder every year, with an original Haggadah and original music. Our guide, Michal, was a disciple of Yehudah Sharett, who was the driving force in creating these productions for decades. She spoke of his "religious" approach, reminiscent of the founder of cultural Zionism, Achad Ha'am: the ritual is an expression of our national identity and historical experience - no need to get involved in theology. She spoke nostalgically of those magical productions with their massive multi-generational choirs, elaborate choreography, months of rehearsal. Today, of course, there's no budget for a music teacher, and besides, many people prefer a private, family seder. The "secular religion" pioneered by the kibbutzim in the first half of the 20th century is struggling to redefine itself. Its rituals have lost their power for many people, and the result has been a slide in the direction of reconnecting to traditional texts and practices.

My "tourists" headed back to Tel Aviv with lots of questions - and with no awareness that they probably live down the block from a Reform or Conservative synagogue.

Definitions II

2010-03-16T18:12:02Z

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

One should never occupy oneself with the legends and midrashim relating to the messianic age, and should not consider them as central beliefs, as they foster neither love of nor obedience to God; likewise one must not calculate the end - as our sages said, "accursed be those who calculate the end." One must simply wait and believe... -Rambam (Maimonides) Mishneh Torah, Laws of Kings 12:2

Because of its commitment to the state of Israel, and to having that state function as a modern, democratic, Jewish state, Orthodox Zionism was from the beginning viewed positively by many "secular" Israelis. While these Orthodox aroused opposition and resentment sometimes by their insistence on public observance of religious strictures (no El Al planes on Shabbat, no pork...), they were also respected as loyal, constructive citizens who were generally moderate in their Orthodoxy (witness the Orthodox kibbutz movement), and who shouldered their full share and even more than their share of the sacrifices needed to build the country. Indeed, since the beginning of Zionism, the stridency of the polemic between the different strands of Orthodoxy (pro- and anti-Zionist) has been greater than that between the Orthodox and secular wings of Zionism.

]]> The problem is that for the past two thousand years, it seems that whenever we have messed with messianism, the outcome has not been good. Jesus, Bar Kochba, Shabbetei Zevi, enlightenment, socialism - whenever we (or some of us) became convinced that a particular leader, or policy, or movement had the power to redeem us, redemption only ended up receding farther into the future, and there was a lot of collateral damage. So while it is very inspiring to recite the standard Orthodox Zionist blessing for the state that refers to Israel as "the first flowering of our redemption," there is also a potential danger in believing that we live in messianic times. Thus, when the amazing victory of 1967 gave apparent support to the belief that we could hear the messiah's footsteps, it intensified the old and powerful dilemma that attends outbreaks of messianic fever: what means are justified to move the process along?

And so today, Orthodox Zionism is itself subdivided into different strands: There are those who are sure they have figured out God's plan, and who know that we are experiencing the redemption. Our having attained sovereignty over the entire Land of Israel is clearly proof that that is what God wants - and thus we are forbidden to partition it, regardless of what realpolitik or common sense or the world might argue. This view characterizes the supporters of the settlement of the territories occupied in 1967, and in its extreme form has led to various extreme manifestations such as the Jewish terrorists of the mid 80s, and Yigal Amir's assassination of Yitzchak Rabin.

On the other hand there are the moderates, trying to continue the tradition of seeking a synthesis between Orthodoxy and the complex, modern reality of life in a democracy, in some kind of harmony with the world, trying to advance redemption not by reclaiming all the land of the biblical promise, but by trying to build a sustainable state that manifests Jewish moral values.

Meanwhile both of these strands of Orthodox Zionism are further subdivided by halachic issues having little to do with messianism - they continue to struggle to define their relationship to cardinal issues of the modern world such as the place of women, the treatment of homosexuals, and nature of rabbinic authority, the degree of openness to western culture in general. Every community, every family, indeed every individual represents a different set of compromises. Not to mention the constant traffic of people changing, moving from one community or one ideology to another.

Indeed, they really are not all the same.

Welcoming Rosh Chodesh with Women of the Wall

2010-03-16T15:22:54Z

by Liz Piper-Goldberg
Legislative Assistant, RAC

(Originally published on RACblog)

"Wondrous God, in ancient days You led our people from bondage to freedom; redeem us now out of our exile from one another, making all Israel one united people!"
-From the liturgy for Rosh Chodesh

Tomorrow is Rosh Chodesh Nisan, the beginning of the Hebrew month of Nisan. Rosh Chodesh, which literally means "head of the month," is the holiday that marks the beginning of each month in the Jewish calendar.

Many communities meet to pray and celebrate Rosh Chodesh together each month. One such group is the Women of the Wall, a progressive prayer group that meets at the Western Wall (Kotel) in Jerusalem. You may have been following our coverage of the recent events surrounding the Women of the Wall. In late 2009 Nofrat Frenkel was arrested for wearing a prayer shawl, or tallit, while praying at the Wall, and in January 2010, Anat Hoffman, who serves as director of the Israel Religious Action Center and leader of Women of the Wall, was interrogated and fingerprinted due to the actions of this group.

Below the jump, you can find more information on the Jewish rituals associated with Rosh Chodesh, prayer resources to hold your own Rosh Chodesh service, and ways that you can get involved in supporting the Women of the Wall. If you're on Twitter, follow @womenofthewall and #kotelwomen tomorrow to track their t'filot in Jerusalem!

Are you holding your own Rosh Chodesh Nisan event in solidarity with Women of the Wall? If so, email a description and photos to me and media@womenofthewall.org.il!

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In contemporary practice, Rosh Chodesh celebrations begin the Shabbat before the new month, with the recitation of birkat ha-chodesh at the conclusion of the Torah reading. Birkat ha-chodesh is a special prayer that articulates our hopes for the month to come, from peace and prosperity to success in business, good health, and piety. The prayer includes an announcement of the day or days on which Rosh Chodesh will fall, and the name of the month that is about to start. During t'filot on the actual first day of the new month, a special prayer, ya'leh v'yavo, is inserted into the Amidah. Hallel, pslams of praise, are also recited during a Rosh Chodesh service.

Here, you can access prayer resources and readings for Rosh Chodesh.

The month of Nisan is characterized by the holiday of Passover, which is deeply associated with the ideal of freedom. When we join together in announcing, blessing, and celebrating each new month, we stand with the Women of the Wall and all those working for religious freedom and civil equality in Israel. Religious pluralism is at risk in Israel, and the Reform Movement has taken a central role in speaking out in support of the Women of the Wall. Our message is clear: The Kotel belongs not just to one individual, group, or denomination but to all Jews.

From this month to the next, you can take a stand. It's not too late to hold a short service for Rosh Chodesh Nisan, or to plan an event for the next Jewish month, Iyyar, which will begin on April 14. For resources, educational programming, and ways you can get involved, visit http://urj.org/israel/wow/ regularly, or contact me by email or 202.387.2800.

From ARZA: An Important Request for Action

2010-03-09T21:31:57Z

by Rabbi Bob Orkand
President of ARZA

We have learned that the Knesset may vote as soon as Tuesday on legislation that would make important changes to the Law of Return, which sets forth who can claim Israeli citizenship. This particular legislation would target converts to Judaism.

The various arms of our Movement are asking that urgent messages of protest be sent to Michael Oren, the Israeli Ambassador to the United States, and to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

We cannot permit the ultra-Orthodox parties in Israel to push through legislation without regard to the millions of Diaspora Jews who are active, dedicated and devoted members of the Jewish people who identify themselves with non-Orthodox streams of Judaism.

The bill sponsored by MK David Rotem of Yisrael Beitenu, deals with both the authority of the Chief Rabbinate and matters of Conversion. The Rotem Bill does three things:

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It grants legal authority to the Chief Rabbinate for conversions. While until now there has been de facto recognition, this legislation gives legal recognition to the role of the Chief Rabbinate in this area. The result would be that it would become much more difficult for conversions to be performed by Reform, Conservative and more open-minded Orthodox rabbis.

It provides for the ability of local rabbis in Israel to establish conversion courts. This is a part of the bill of which we can support because it will potentially permit the establishment of more forward looking conversion courts. However, if the first part of the bill passes, the Chief Rabbinate may declare these courts null and void, which would obviate any reason for our support.

Section 3 of this bill is the most highly problematic. This section states that anyone that who entered Israel as a non-Jew and then converted to Judaism--either in Israel or the Diaspora--would not be eligible for citizenship under the Law of Return. This is precisely the case that is now before the Supreme Court, which asks that conversions in Israel by non-Orthodox rabbis be recognized and that citizenship rights be granted to our converts. This is an attempt to go around the Supreme Court. Further, the wording is so vague that it could mean that if such a person had visited Israel at any time, no matter when, that person's conversion would not be recognized for citizenship in the future. Thirdly this would be the first time that Israel is officially making a distinction between one who is born a Jew and a righteous convert, something that we find insulting.

In the last 48 hours, there have been negotiations between MK David Rotem, the sponsor of this legislation, and the ultra-Orthodox parties. The Israeli media reports that these negotiations might lead to adding provisions which would block Reform and Conservative conversions in Israel. In response, Reform Movement leaders around the world are in contact with Israeli government officials in an effort to block this legislation.

THEREFORE, ARZA URGES THAT THE FOLLOWING LETTER OR ITS EQUIVALENT BE SENT TO AMBASSADOR OREN AND PRIME MINISTER NETANYAHU

The Honorable Benjamin Netanyahu
Prime Minister of Israel
Office of the Prime Minister
Jerusalem, Israel

Dear Prime Minister Netanyahu,

We write to request your immediate intervention to prevent passage of the legislation being brought forward by MK David Rotem.

Passage of this bill in its present form, especially section 3, will have the effect of altering the Law of Return or, at the least, cause undue hardship to anyone in Israel who has come from Diaspora communities and seeks conversion in Israel.

While the Reform movement is supportive of efforts to create greater accessibility to conversion courts in Israel and have done all we can to aid in this effort, the overall impact of the Rotem Bill will set back these efforts. Should this bill be enacted, it will exacerbate a widening gap between Diaspora and Israel communities, which we are all working very hard to avoid.

Therefore, we believe it is imperative that you, Israel's leader, who cares so deeply about the well-being of our people, intervene and urge withdrawal of this bill.

The email for Prime Minister Netanyahu is: Prime.Minister'sOffice@it.pmo.gov.il

For Ambassador Oren's office: info@washington.mfa.gov.il

Galilee Diary: Definitions I

2010-03-09T20:12:44Z

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

Sound the great shofar for our freedom, raise the ensign to gather our exiles, and gather us from the four corners of the earth. Blessed are you, O Lord, Who gathers the dispersed of His people Israel.
-from the traditional Amidah prayer

About ten years ago the local Orthodox community turned to our seminar center at Shorashim and asked us to organize programs that would bring them together with the other, non-Orthodox communities around the county, as they were feeling as though they lived in a ghetto. We began with some joint study evenings, and ever since we have been producing programs of different types, with that original goal of bringing people together across the denominational lines: film evenings, lectures, holiday observances, etc. At the end of one of the first evenings, at which the discussion had been very open and lively, I asked a "secular" friend, who had been somewhat cynical about the project, what she got out of the evening. "Well," she said, "I learned one thing: they are not all the same!" From the occasional reader comments, directly or on the blog, I have the impression that, as is so often the case, people find it hard to recognize differences among those who are "the other" to us. Therefore, as a public service, over the next few entries I will present a guide for those who might be interested in some nuance:

]]> Throughout the middle ages, Jewish communities were organized around a life based on the legal system of halachah, with the rabbi as legislator/judge/interpreter/teacher - in any case - as authority. As the traditional community began to break down with the rise of the modern, individualistic, secular state, a new movement arose that argued that we needed no rabbinical authority, as the individual was the proper authority to interpret the tradition. This movement, Reform, rejected the binding nature of halachah, seeing it as a source of values, open to individual interpretation, but not a legal system. Those who rejected this approach began to be called Orthodox.

When, at the end of the 19th century, European nationalism and Jewish messianism combined to yield Zionism, both Reform and Orthodox movements mostly rejected this new idea - the Reform because they believed that where they were was now their homeland (e.g., Germany); the Orthodox because they believed that the return to Zion must await the messiah, and not be a secular political process. On the other hand, the Orthodox did attach great significance to the Land of Israel, and to the religious and spiritual significance of living in it. Hence, they saw no contradiction between coming to live in Israel and being opposed to the Zionist enterprise. The Jews we call "ultra-Orthodox" today are the continuation of that strand: they believe it is a sacred obligation to live here, but they are either indifferent - or actively opposed - to Zionism. These Jews believe that they do more to preserve the Jewish people by studying Torah full-time than do those who engage in military service. They believe that in order for the messiah to come, it will be necessary for the maximum number of Jews to do the maximum number of mitzvot - hence, some are prepared to use any means necessary to cause that to happen - like using coalition political deals to prohibit the sale of hametz on Pesach, or using their bodies to block traffic on Shabbat.

Meanwhile, early in the 20th century, some Orthodox Jews found the pull of Jewish nationalism so strong that they were drawn into Zionism and developed an ideology to overcome the conflict with the traditional insistence on awaiting the messiah. What if the very existence of Zionism (especially in view of its success in moving toward a state) were indeed evidence that we are living in messianic times, and that this progress is a manifestation of Divine providence? If so, then it's a religious obligation to support it. Hence: Orthodox Zionism, whose followers serve disproportionately in combat units and as officers, and have been deeply involved in all aspects of the development of the state and its economy. They believe that the state should reflect its Jewishness in culture and behavior, and hence have generally supported legislation to preserve that reflection.

So indeed, they are not all the same - but that's only the beginning. To be continued...

Standing with our sisters at the Kotel

2010-03-09T14:18:18Z

by Shelley Lindauer
Executive Director, Women of Reform Judaism

In this week's Torah portion, Ki Tisa, the Israelites begin to worry that Moses will not return from Mt. Sinai, and in their fear encourage Aaron to create an idol, a molten calf. Aaron said to them "Men, take off the gold rings that are on the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me."

According to Pirkei de Rabbi Eliezer 45, the women heard about the making of the Golden Calf and refused to give their jewelry to their husbands. The women argued that the molten image was an abomination, and they would not participate. God rewards the women with a holiday, Rosh Chodesh, acknowledging their independence, wisdom, and piety. Rabbi Eliezer tells us the women were to observe more new moons in this world than the men, and in the next world they would be renewed like the moon.

Men and women have different responses to stress, and reacted quite differently to the anxiety generated by waiting for Moses to return. While men tend to have a "fight or flight" reaction, women - in the words of psychologist Shelley E. Taylor - approach stressful situations with a "tend and befriend" response. During times of stress women take care of themselves and their children (tending) and form strong group bonds (befriending).

]]> Women of the Wall two weeks ago. As Lynn described in her letter after the services, the group with Women of the Wall stood in the back of the women's section of the Kotel, and began to pray and sing. Men across the dividing wall shouted and punched their fists in the air. I had a sense they were circling and were about to strike. In response to the yelling, the women in our group moved closer together, feeling the comfort of each other and the protective shelter of our group. While it is true that a few women also shouted at us in a very disturbing manner, what I felt about these women was incredulity that they could treat other women in such a degrading and compassionless way. I'm sure there were women at Sinai, too, who willingly handed over their gold for the making of the Golden Calf.

As we know in sisterhood-land, women are the heart and soul of many congregations. We are the caregivers and the nurturers, the first to offer help and assistance to any in need. We advocate for social justice, and protect not only our own, but all those less fortunate. We create special bonds, and feel an innate connection to other women. In these times of economic and social stress, let us not forget that we must stand up for that which we know to be right, as did our sisters at Sinai. And, as we move closer to each other for comfort and support, we are also moving closer to God.

May the light of the Shabbat candles brighten our lives.

Galilee Diary: Shabbat shalom

2010-03-02T21:10:23Z

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

You shall destroy all the peoples that the Lord your God delivers to you, showing them no pity. And you shall not worship their gods, for that would be a snare to you.

--Deuteronomy 7:16

Six months ago, our daughter Ilana, seeking a non-urban, inexpensive apartment near Haifa, moved to the Druze Arab village of Usfiya. This town is just beyond the outskirts of Haifa as you go south along the top of the Carmel ridge, less than ten minutes from Haifa University. Because of its location it has been considered as a sort of suburb of Haifa for decades - and yet, for all its development and its economic interdependence with Haifa, it retains many features of a rural Arab village.

The Druze constitute about 10% of Israel's million Arab citizens. They believe that the founder of their religion was Moses' father-in-law Jethro, and thus it antedates Islam (the shrine of Jethro's tomb, in the mountains above Tiberias, called Nebi Shuaib, is a major pilgrimage site); on the other hand, historians argue that the religion was founded in Egypt in the 11 th century as a split-off from Islam; persecuted by the Muslims, the Druze ultimately concentrated their communities in the mountains of what later became Lebanon and Syria (where the vast majority live today) and northern Israel. The two southernmost Druze villages in Israel are Usfiya and its neighbor, Daliyat el-Carmel. After 1948 the Druze leadership agreed that Druze men would be subject to the Israeli military draft, and indeed, they have served with distinction in all branches of the army since then. That is perhaps the reason that many Jewish Israelis don't define them as Arabs. It is quite common for Arab villages in Israel to be of mixed religion, and indeed, Usfiya is home to some Moslem and Christian Arab families, as well as quite a few Jews, especially university students.

]]> Ilana's spacious, airy apartment is attached to a single family home belonging to a young couple (+ two little kids and a dog); Nasrin is a guidance counselor; Alaa is a career army officer, marathon runner, and PhD candidate in history. His father was until his recent retirement the director of education for the Israel National Parks Authority. His brother and family live next door. They are the picture of middle-class life and aspirations, friendly and hospitable, busy with all the demands of modern life but still finding time to tend the garden and fruit trees and chickens - for this is, after all, not a suburb, but a village. They appear to live quite comfortably in two very different cultures, two languages - they seem to have had the talent and/or luck to succeed at and even enjoy living on the cultural seam.

We spent last Shabbat there, on a beautiful spring-like winter day. We took a hike down a nearby valley, walking through a densely oak-shaded canyon where the smell of moss reminded us of hikes in the old country, out to expanses of rolling meadows dotted with wildflowers, where shepherds tended their flocks and farmers tended their tractors. It is not for nothing that parts of the Carmel range are nicknamed "little Switzerland." As we climbed back up a different valley toward the main highway from Haifa, we began to encounter groups of Jewish families hiking, and when we got to the road, there were Jewish and Arab families picnicking under every tree. The village itself was one big traffic jam: Usfiya and Daliyah are major Shabbat outing destinations for residents of Haifa and even Tel Aviv. Daliyah has a well-developed crafts market; in Usfiya the attractions are furniture stores, plant nurseries, and restaurants. As we walked along the strip of stores I noticed that while the spoken language in Usfiya is Arabic, the signs on the shops were almost entirely in Hebrew.

Could it be that we are on the way to creating some kind of shared Israeli culture here after all - with economic forces driving the process?

From Russia, with Love

2010-03-02T16:07:02Z

by Larry Kaufman
(Also posted at Larrykaufman's Weblog)

When I was first getting involved in synagogue life, my rabbi had a cartoon pasted to the door of his study, showing a group of men sitting around a boardroom table -n those days, temple boards were all men -- as the president of the congregation announces, "We have only two items on our agenda this evening, the leak in the men's room ceiling and the future of American Judaism."

When we talk about the future of American Judaism, a number of recurrent themes come immediately to mind -- building Jewish identity, developing a new generation of leaders, the differences between the generations, creating ties with worldwide Jewry and especially with Israel, and the place of Reform Judaism in the big picture

How interesting it was, therefore, to participate the other day in an international conference call of the Committee on the Former Soviet Union of the World Union for Progressive Judaism, and to hear a report from Rita Furman, the Netzer (Youth) Coordinator for the FSU, about a leadership seminar recently conducted at the Moscow Center for Progressive Judaism, and devoted to our exciting Reform camping programs in Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine. Possibly the most important message to emerge from Rita's report was that the issues that confront American Judaism are equally if not more important in Eastern Europe, except that we have a lot more resources than they do for dealing with them.

]]> Camping was the main focus of the seminar in Moscow, and key participants were two "loaners" from the URJ camping system, Rabbi Ron Klotz and Max Klaben, director and assistant director of our Goldman Union Camp-Institute in Zionsville, Indiana. Ron and Max led six sessions during the conference, three with supervisors and three with madrichim (youth counselors). These sessions explored topics like who is the ideal madrich, how to work in an informal setting, and what background leaders need to have in order to work effectively with campers.

In the course of last summer, almost 1000 campers spent a week each at Progressive movement camps in the FSU, funded by individual contributions from the more affluent sectors of the WUPJ as well as by congregational and Federation grants from many North American cities. Rabbi Klotz was joined at the program by two local rabbis, Alex Lyskovoy and Leonid Bimbat., which, Rita told us, added a very important spiritual component to the discussion and enlarged the scope of the questions madrichim could ask, beyond the logistics of camp operations. .

The Reform camp programs in the USA and FSU were discussed and compared at length. Ron and Max had brought a lot of material (written, video, pictures, etc.) to provide a very broad picture of how the GUCI camp operates. To the surprise of the locals (using local to encompass the three countries represented, Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus), and perhaps of the Americans too, despite such differences as the length of camp sessions and operating in a permanent venue like GUCI does as opposed to the rented camp facilities of the FSU, the topics of interest, the values that we wish to impart, and the goals we strive to attain both in the FSU and USA are very similar. Thus, Rita told us, the ties to and with their American counterparts were "immediately natural and very strong, as we spoke the same [religious, spiritual] language."

Jewish identity was a particularly important issue, incorporated into all sessions. (My own rabbi, Andrea London, just returned from visiting our "twinned" congregation in Simferopol, Ukraine, and noted the "missing generation" -- everyone she met, she reported, was either young or old, the middle generation having been kept from their Judaism during the Soviet era). Questions such as what it is to be a young Reform Jew today, how the active Jewish identity of the generation of the madrichim impacts both those younger than they and the older generation of their parents, were on the minds and the tongues of the madrichim, the young leadership cadre.

Given the cultural and economic divides, not all the issues that confront camps in North America and in the FSU are parallel. I'm told, for example, that one of the challenges facing camp directors at Union camps here, like our local gem OSRUI, is separating kids from their cell phones. Across the ocean, the issue is separating campers from their cigarettes! One of the outcomes of the Moscow training session is likely to be the prohibition of smoking at Netzer camps.

With all the similarities and all the differences of the two communities, it is generally acknowledged throughout American Judaism that Jewish camping programs are pivotal guarantors of our future - and how much more that is the case in the FSU, where Judaism is beginning to re-emerge after its forced hiatus, and where Progressive Judaism has to compete not only against secularism and apathy, but also against the aggressive outreach of open-handed, closed-minded Chabad. We have to fix a leak a whole lot more serious than the one in the men's room ceiling; we have to bring kids into a spiritual and cultural worldview that will enable them to reclaim their birthright as modern Jews while fitting into their local societies as whole people. And the only way to fix that leak is with funding.

I was exhilarated by the WUPJ conference call where folks sitting in Moscow, Jerusalem, London, San Juan, Acapulco, and across the U.S.A. shared their thoughts on building Progressive Judaism, and Progressive Jews, in the FSU. It's good to know that Barbara, my wife, sits on the Kiev Kehilla of our Chicago Jewish Federation and encourages the Federation to make a generous annual contribution to our Progressive camps in Ukraine. We're proud to number among our friends people like Anne Molloy and Henry Posner of Pittsburg and Sue and Jimmy Klau of San Juan who contribute munificently to the Reform movement's work in the FSU.

If I needed to point to one episode that triggered my own involvement in the support of Progressive Judaism, it would be an August Shabbat lunch at a camp facility outside of Moscow, where we met with Jews from all across Russia, who had gathered for a training session on how to conduct High Holy Day services in their rabbi-less communities. Rabbi Joel Oseran, who leads international development for the World Union, asked a youngish physician from Siberia what he was trying to find through his involvement with Progressive Judaism - and the doctor's spontaneous reply was, "I think I am trying to find myself."

So many of us Reform Jews in North America trace our own roots to the former Soviet Union - my mother's family came from Belarus and my father's from Kiev - and it behooves us to remember that the kids who are enriched by their experiences at Netzer camps are our cousins. When we help them find themselves as Jews, we help ourselves to do the same, linking the future of American Judaism to that of Eastern European Judaism. Ken yirbu - may this only increase.

We Dare Not Be Silent

2010-02-24T00:16:56Z

by Rabbi Eric Yoffie
(Originally published in Reform Judaism magazine)

When the history of Reform Judaism is written a century from now, its authors will ask many questions: Did Reform Jews study Torah, perform mitzvot, bring justice to the world? But most important of all: Did we do enough to safeguard the security and well-being of the State of Israel?

I am worried now, not because we don't love Israel, but because we are distracted. As we learned in the aftermath of the stock market crash of 1929, during tough economic times North American Jews turn inward, focusing on personal problems and not the problems of the Jewish people. Though understandable, this is a huge mistake at a time when the government of Iran, supported by Russia and China, is inching toward the nuclear threshold--and the potential to deliver on its off-repeated promise to destroy the Jewish state. Not since the Yom Kippur War has Israel's survival been more precarious.

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Israel needs our help in other ways, too, and this means hearing our criticisms. Unconditional support is not the same as uncritical support. We love the Jewish state, but we must hold firm to our vision of a Jewish, democratic, and pluralistic Israel. We cannot accept settlement in the heart of the West Bank, where a Palestinian state must one day arise. We cannot accept the relegation of Orthodox women to the back section of buses in Jerusalem. And we cannot accept the denial of Reform Jewish rights by Israeli lawmakers. We will always reach for the highest ideals of the Zionist dream, seeking justice for all of Israel's citizens and for her neighbors as well.

At this critical juncture, however, let us not forget, even for a moment, that all will be lost if Tehran has its way. Time is running out. God and history will not excuse us if we are silent.

For Out of Zion....Reflections - On a Very Busy Season

2010-02-23T22:28:01Z

by Rabbi Stanley M. Davids
Immediate Past President of ARZA

Resa and I returned home to Jerusalem on January 25th. We plunged immediately into what has become a month long period of programs, meetings, encounters and conference calls. We aren't complaining. It's just that the days aren't long enough.

First up was Resa's challenge to organize a national meeting of the 15 chapters of Women of Reform Judaism - Israel for February 14th. (OK. For those who are curious: besides the "Day of Love," which is observed in Israel on February 14th, what is the date of the OTHER celebration of romantic attachment in Israel? Did you guess the 15th of the Hebrew month of Av? Congratulations!). The national meeting just happened to have been scheduled in the midst of rising concern over events regarding the Women of the Wall. By now we all know of Nofrat Frenkel who was arrested while worshipping with WOW in November at the Kotel on Rosh Hodesh (New Moon). That event set off a tsunami of anguished responses throughout the Diaspora, as Reform and Conservative Jews expressed profound resentment at what clearly has become a series of escalating restrictions aimed at accommodating the ultra-Orthodox at the expense of just about everyone else.

What kinds of restrictions? Women cannot wear Tallitot at the Kotel; there is now a 'men only' walkway at the rear of the Western Wall Plaza; some bus routes in Jerusalem have been proclaimed 'women in the rear of the bus' routes; some Haredi air passengers are demanding the right to wear portable Mechitzahs (barriers) over their heads (sic) while they are flying, so that the sight of women won't distract them and so that they will not see the projected movies; in some areas of Jerusalem Haredim have gender-segregated sidewalks. Nofrat Frenkel's arrest for many was simply the last straw.

]]> In some ways, the powerful response in the Diaspora was not matched by a similar expression of concern among many in Israel itself. The image of Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Bus Boycott found little resonance in Medinat Yisrael. The cause of WOW was not easily embraced by many liberal, progressive and even secular Israeli Jews for whom the Wall not only is of little personal religious significance, but whatever significance there is had been dissipated by the State's acquiescence to the turning of the Kotel area into an Orthodox synagogue.

This lack of congruity in what was seen by many to be a matter of profound ethical concern led in February to an extremely healthy and open dialogue among the leaders of Progressive/Reform Judaism in Israel and in North America. In fact, there is no question that Nofrat Frenkel's arrest served as a superb motivation for the kinds of conversations which served to dramatically enhance understandings of the differences between religious sensibilities in Israel and in the Diaspora. Though WOW is not at all a part of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism, (IMPJ) or of IRAC, these organizations (guided by a superb paper written by IMPJ Executive Director Gilad Kariv) has now clarified and sharpened their own internal consensus, and all parties have dramatically ratcheted up their understanding of and respect for each other.

And so Resa's WRJ-Israel program was held amidst a keen awareness of the unique challenges confronting women in Israel. Each of the 15 chapters of WRJ-Israel was represented, and a 16th new chapter was announced. The president of WRJ, Lynn Magid Lazar, together with WRJ Executive Director Shelley Lindauer, presented gavels and charters to each of the 15 groups. Naama Kelman (HUC-J Dean) delivered a wonderful D'var Torah; Gilad Kariv gave a superb keynote address; and Resa basked in what was nothing less than an historic achievement.

The next morning was Rosh Hodesh Adar. I accompanied Lynn Magid Lazar and Shelley Lindauer to the Kotel, where they were joined by more than 150 other women. As the women began to quietly chant the Shacharit (Morning) Service, being careful not to violate the letter of the law when it came to the wearing of Tallitot, the attention and the scorn of some of the others worshipping at the Wall began to escalate. The police were everywhere present and very active and effective in trying to keep the Haredi women from pushing and shoving into the worshipping women.

From the other side of the Mechitzah dividing the Western Wall Plaza, Haredi men began to scream, to chant and to verbally harass the worshipping women. I walked down to the men's side with a group of HUC students who had come to bear witness and to davven. The Haredim called the women every ugly and demeaning thing they could think of, while all the while screaming at the top of their lungs. The rising frenzy served to egg on the Haredi women who now surged past and around the police - pushing and shoving and spitting and screaming.

Then the WOW reached the end of their special Hallel prayers. It was time to leave the Kotel and to head to the Robinson's Arch area in which they would be allowed to read Torah and to wear a Tallit in relative peace. As I walked out of the men's area to say goodbye to Lynn and to Shelley, my eye caught an old friend of mine, Rabbi Janet Liss. Janet was just standing there, looking stunned. I went up to her, put my arm around her and asked her what had happened. Janet had been hit in the face by one of the Haredi women who were finding novel ways to express their embrace of the holy. Not so much seriously hurt but feeling grotesquely violated, Janet just needed a brief respite to regain control of her emotions. She had been physically attacked in broad daylight at the Kotel by Jewish women in the name of holiness. This was a great deal to handle. (You may want to go to the Women of the Wall home page on Facebook to see an album of pictures from Rosh Hodesh Adar.)

Does anyone need to be reminded as to why we American Reform Jews must begin to change our Movement's approach to the need of the IMPJ and of IRAC to dramatically increase their available financial resources so that their capacity to engage in the battle for Israel's soul can be enhanced? WRJ, a great friend of ARZA, has now forged significant ties with many of our Israeli congregations. ARZA is preparing to consider taking upon itself serious responsibility for the raising of funds for the IMPJ and for IRAC. Reform/Progressive leadership groups in America and in Israel have begun long-delayed efforts to strengthen their understanding of each other.

And it was still only February 15th. The marathon had only just begun. More to come.

Galilee Diary: Perspective

2010-02-23T18:35:56Z

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

...Even a poor person who is supported by tzedakah is obligated to contribute tzedakah to others. -Rambam (Maimonides), Mishneh Torah, Laws of gifts to the poor 7:5

Recently the Masorti (Conservative) congregation in Kfar Vradim (a rural town with a sort of suburban life style, located about 30 minutes north of Shorashim) celebrated the ground-breaking for their new synagogue. It marked an important milestone, as the little community there has struggled for years against the opposition of the Orthodox minority and against the apathy of the "secular" majority who couldn't quite understand what all the to-do was about. As has happened in many places, the liberal community finally managed to win the support of local government, which has the power to allocate land for public use. Thus, there are a number of Reform and Conservative synagogues on land allocated by local municipalities, throughout the country. This is of course still a long way from equality with Orthodoxy, whose rabbis are government employees and whose synagogues are often built partly or completely by tax dollars. But on the local political level the liberal movements have made great strides in the past couple of decades.

In general, I think it is important to keep the "persecution" or "disenfranchisement" of liberal Jews in perspective. On the individual level there are issues - primarily in the areas of recognition of marriage and conversion; and of course it is not uncommon for nominally neutral institutions like the army or the schools to hew to an Orthodox line when inviting holiday speakers, or performing public ceremonies (especially galling when it involves the status of women), so it does happen that liberal Jews find themselves feeling like outsiders. On the other hand, they can live where they want, and work where they want (unlike, say, Arabs or Ethiopian Jews, who are persona non grata in various settings).

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Liberal Jews in Israel on the whole live full Jewish lives as full citizens of the state. I don't think there are many of us who walk around with constant feelings of discrimination and persecution, who are unable to find our place socially, economically, politically (indeed, my sense is that we represent the higher deciles in the socio-economic scale). When we run up against the religious bureaucracy, or symbolic offenses like the persecution of the Women of the Wall, we are exasperated and frustrated and disappointed. But it seems to me that feeling challenged to educate and litigate and demonstrate toward a more perfect Jewish democratic state is not the same as nor does it justify statements that imply washing our hands of Israel, or feeling that we have no stake in it. I'm sure that many Jews (abroad) feel that way; I think using the issue of religious discrimination to justify those feelings is a cop-out, or perhaps a cover-up. There are lots of things to fix here; the status of the liberal Jews is important, but I'm not sure it's the most urgent. We have to stand up for ourselves, of course - but perhaps first we have to stand up for those other groups in society whose lot is significantly worse than ours - as we have been doing elsewhere in western society since the dawn of modernity.

Galilee Diary: Saturday night

2010-02-16T21:14:03Z

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

Who is the mightiest of the mighty? He who conquers his urges... Some say: He who turns his enemy into a friend.
-Avot d'Rabbi Nathan, version A chapter 23

Since leaving the United States we have been living on the edge of Asia - and Africa is just next door. I have developed somewhat of a fascination with this near neighbor and the experiences and cultures of some of its many nations. In particular, the transition from Apartheid to democracy in South Africa in the 90s has been a subject that I find most interesting and inspiring. Therefore, as soon as it opened here, we went to see Invictus, Clint Eastwood's new film on Nelson Mandela's use of rugby as a force for creating a shared identity and culture among the disparate populations of his newly liberated nation. It was sort of schmaltzy, but then, the reality was pretty schmaltzy. And there is no question that Nelson Mandela was a rare example of a leader who truly had vision, and who led his people away from their natural instincts of revenge and domination, presiding over a process of reconciliation from which perhaps we could learn.

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When we went into the theater (a multiplex with about 15 theaters; the two of us constituted about 10% of the audience in ours), the mall was populated mostly with families with young children, there for the fast food and the various forms of kid-centered entertainment (films, play areas, video arcades), and of course shopping. When we emerged at 9:30 the place was so packed it was hard to walk. There was a pretty complete cross-section of Israeli society: middle aged couples sitting in the coffee shops, flocks/herds/gangs of teenagers strutting their stuff, dressed to kill; Arab families, Orthodox families, Russian and Ethiopian immigrants. There were lines at every fast food outlet. Everyone was carrying plastic bags of purchases. Saturday night at the mall is clearly the place to be. We sat down to pizza in one of the food courts and were so enjoying just watching the endless, jostling, variegated parade of people that we were reluctant to get up and go back out into the dark, cold night and drive home.

Soccer games in Israel are often marred by cheers of "death to the Arabs." And the games are usually on Saturday, which is a problem for those who keep Shabbat. Mandela's use of sport to build his nation doesn't seem to have the same potential here as it did in South Africa. Anyway, leaders of Mandela's moral stature and grace are not common anywhere in the world, and certainly not in this neighborhood. Yet sitting in the mall on Saturday night, you might have thought that we had all the problems solved. Bright lights, happy music, crowds of contented consumers peacefully enjoying a little leisure together. Live and let live. Buy and let buy. It would be nice if our cultural common denominator could be something more uplifting than shopping, but if it works I guess I shouldn't knock it. Religion has had anything but a calming effect here - it seems that consuming is the real opiate of the masses.

Peaches, Natanya

2010-02-12T03:07:10Z

by Elaine Starkman

He sold peaches from his cart
Yehiel, an old immigrant
from Eastern Europe, paler
than I, light eyes and lashes
I never knew if he landed here
before or after the war
when he might have changed his name.

With him was his young helper
Yosef the singing Yemenite; his dark
sandaled feet dangled over the cart
pulled by a donkey. They slowly rolled
into our village just before noon heat.

Cush, the dog, ran along side them.
He knew his way back to nearby borders
always licked my face.

They both knew I'd buy; I always did.
How do you call that? I pointed to a peach.

Ahfarsek, Yosef, pronounced
the word with deep nasal twang.

An odd sound. I copied the way
he placed his tongue

on the roof of his mouth.
Ah-far-sek.

Excellent!! Now taste! he laughed.
The older man silently sliced

into the soft fuzzy peach skin.
"Sweet, yes?" Yosef grinned.

And here, Madame, apples-of-the-earth.
Here is mish-mish. Here is the best,

Better here than in the city. Buy many, Madame,
half kilo, just three shekel.

O fruit of the land. O, honey and milk,
Coastal Sea

Where are you now
Singing Yosef,

Silent Yehiel,
Lost Cush.

Together with her husband who worked as physician, Starkman and her family of three small children went to Israel immediately after the Six Day War. Since then she writes on her experiences, as one of her subjects. Her work appears in the new Torah: A Women's Commentary published by URJ Books and Music. She's also the co-editor of Here I Am: Contemporary Jewish Stories from Around the World, JPS, which won a PEN/Oakland Award in 1999. She now lives and teaches writing in Northern California.

Galilee Diary: Whose wall?

2010-02-09T20:22:31Z

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

The Council of Progressive (Reform) Rabbis in Israel views the Western Wall as an area that does not represent the Jewish attachment to God, the experience of prayer, or modern Jewish thought... For the Reform Jew the Wall may be a place of historical connection, but it does not have any place in a Reform theology.
-Responsum of the Council of Progressive Rabbis in Israel

It takes me about four hours to get to Jerusalem by public transportation; not a great distance as distances go in the world - and merely a fraction of the distance to the North American Diaspora. And Jerusalem is very familiar to me from living there and visiting frequently over the years. I even remember it before the unification of the city in 1967. Yet sometimes it looks, in my "peripheral" vision, like another world. And since it is the "center of the world," and the capital of Israel (depending on whom you ask), it represents Israel in the eyes of the world. Thus, sometimes it seems that the Jews of Boston and Omaha and Phoenix are more involved in the symbolic events occurring in Jerusalem than are we Galileans. You might say that Jerusalem looks to us like Washington DC looks to a Montanan: What's all the fuss?

This mismatch comes to mind in the wake of the most recent installment in the ongoing jousting match between the ultra-Orthodox and the liberal movements in Jerusalem: violating a court order, the Women of the Wall, a group of women who pray every Rosh Chodesh at the Western Wall, took their prayer out of the Robinson's Arch area that had been designated for them, and held it in the open plaza behind the "official" prayer areas at the wall. One of them even put on a tallit - and was promptly arrested (and released after a few hours "interrogation"). The repercussions have been continuing for weeks, almost entirely among liberal Jewish organizations here and abroad. Most Israelis, who are not affiliated with these movements, are not very interested in what seems to us to be a test-case for religious rights of a significance equivalent to Rosa Parks' historic bus ride. Indeed, they can't imagine why a woman would want to put on a tallit anyway.

]]> In a climate of public discourse that can best be described as a conversation of competitive victimhood, we liberal Jews have jumped in with gusto. There is no group in Israeli society that doesn't see itself as victimized by those in power: Arabs, the ultra-Orthodox, residents of the periphery, settlers, peaceniks, the anti-religious, the state as a whole, etc., etc., - and now, Reform and Conservative Jews. And to highlight one's victimhood, it is generally useful to label the other side as an archetypal oppressor (Nazi, Taliban, Iran are common epithets). The trouble is that since everyone is busy cultivating his/her own particular victimhood, no one really has patience for or interest in anyone else's. So we find our cries of "gevalt" being mostly ignored. Moreover, in a country whose declaration of independence begins "In the Land of Israel the Jewish people arose..." it is not entirely self-evident to most people that we are all "endowed by the Creator with certain inalienable rights." The historical and ideological bases of Israel and the United States are quite different from each other. The problem of the Women of the Wall is not just a case study in the individual's right to free religious expression in a neutral, secular democracy. It is rather a call to set forth a vision of what we want the Jewish state to look like as a Jewish, democratic state.

As long as we Reform Jews speak the language of secular democracy and claim moral authority as a persecuted minority - so long will we continue to be considered an irrelevant nuisance here. Our strength is in offering a meaningful alternative at the level of the community, the school, and the synagogue, in realizing the vision of - and modeling - a Judaism that can meet the spiritual needs of the citizens of a modern state and can live in harmony with democracy.

It is too easy to say what we don't want (religious discrimination) and too difficult to say what we do want (i.e., do we really want Israel to look just like the United States? If so, how will it be a Jewish state?). We need to be the visionaries of a state that lacks them in our generation - not still another group of victims vying for headlines and sympathy.

Editor's note: Rosh Chodesh Adar is Monday, February 15 and the Women of the Wall will gather to celebrate at the Kotel. To follow their story and for more information, visit http://urj.org/israel/wow/.

Progressive Judaism on the Map in Argentina

2010-02-09T19:27:40Z

by Sherry Levy-Reiner

I was gratified to read the constructive comments about my previous blog, "Progressive Judaism: the Un-'official' Alternative," January 7, 2010. I hope that the dialogue sparks action. In 2006, my husband and I spent two months in South Africa shortly after the "Chief Rabbi" refused to participate in a memorial service for Yitzhak Rabin either because - we heard variously - a Reform rabbi was participating and/or a girl's chorus was singing. This issue obviously is very much alive and not just troubling but debilitating.

Now we have just returned from three weeks in Argentina, where the state does not support religion. While the Jewish community of course has many different kinds of problems and issues, in Buenos Aires - largely as a result of its history - it is not controlled by the Orthodox. The oldest congregation in the country, La Congregación Israelita de la República Argentina, is affiliated with the World Union for Progressive Judaism.

]]> Not only is its grand building in all the guidebooks, but the congregation has spun off many other congregations. In the late 1950s, Conservative Rabbi Marshall T. Meyer injected new spirit into the entire community. In addition to revitalizing his own congregation, he established a seminary that prepares community leaders - rabbis, cantors, educators - for all of Central and South America. A social justice activist who worked against the "Dirty War" and tried to save many of the Disappeared, Meyer influenced the founding of other progressive congregations in suburban Buenos Aires. (Some also may recognize his name as the guiding spirit and spiritual leader of B'nai Jeshurun on the Upper West Side of New York, today's thriving "BJ.")

The Shabbat prayerbook of La Congregación Israelita carries the logo of the WUPJ, and its Shabbat Service includes Debbie Friedman's arrangement of "Mi Shebeirach," as well as many other liturgical settings we all know and love. Its members are leaders in the social service agencies and other communal organizations in Buenos Aires. Its rabbis are recognized and accepted as are the rabbis of other Progressive congregations that belong to the WUPJ. The congregation co-exists alongside several well-established Orthodox congregations, some of which follow Sephardic ritual, and a large number of Chabad centers scattered through the Jewish neighborhoods of Buenos Aires and the agricultural communities of Argentina.

Progressive Judaism is definitely on the map in Argentina. It is an enlightening alternative to the European "model."

Galilee Diary: Galilee encounters

2010-02-02T18:37:50Z

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

Do not uproot what has been planted Do not forget the hope Return me and I shall return To that goodly land.
-Naomi Shemer

So, rabbi, what do you do all day anyway? Wednesday I spent the day with 50 students from HUC, spending their first year in Israel before beginning their studies at the stateside campuses. The day included three encounters:

Iman is a 21 year old religious Muslim woman studying to be an English teacher. She has been working with us for a few years, speaking to groups, organizing encounters with her classmates. She is bright, thoughtful, poised, extremely articulate in English, and honestly ambivalent about her relations with her Palestinian - and Israeli - identity and culture. One of 17 children in a working-class family, recently married to a Technion graduate, she is a fascinating case study in the transitions that the Israeli Arab community is experiencing.

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Amin was 13 when his village of Saffuriyeh was conquered by the Israeli army in 1948. He met us at the cemetery of the destroyed village, now the moshav and national park Zippori. He is a gentle, soft-spoken, sweet fellow. He told us his story, and expounded his belief that there will only be true peace when all those Palestinians forced out will be allowed to return, and the Jews and Arabs can go back to living together here "without Zionism."

Thursday was our annual community Tu Beshvat seder, which we cosponsor with an Orthodox community and the county culture department. This year we had 200 people, half of them Orthodox, half of them not. There were decorated tables laden with fruit and nuts; there was a not-too-ambitious "haggadah" with readings about the seven species mentioned in Deuteronomy 8:8 and our attachment to our land; there was enthusiastic singing led by a local, extremely talented trio (ending with the song quoted above); there were remarks by the regional Orthodox rabbi (long, as usual) and by me (short, as usual); and in between there were sketches by "Kalabat (sic) Shabbat," a comedy troupe from Jerusalem who sharply (and hysterically) satirize Israeli - and Orthodox - life.

Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.

Israel and Haiti

2010-01-28T17:50:47Z

by Frederick D. Strober
President, Congregation Rodeph Shalom in Philadelphia, PA
(Originally posted on BlogRS)

When I was 25, I wound up in a unique place, doing my best to help. In October, 1973, I visited Israel for the first time. I was staying with an aunt in Jerusalem, scheduled to return home after the High Holidays, and experiencing a Yom Kippur morning literally without a car on the road. Suddenly, sirens started wailing and cars quickly began to appear--at noon on Yom Kippur! The Yom Kippur War had begun and I got to see a country mobilize in a matter of hours. It was controlled chaos, and I was amazed how calm the Israelis stayed as hundreds of young men raced to collection points and sped away in army vehicles. It's a day I'll never forget.

The men were away at war and the kibbutzim needed workers to finish the harvest. Once the actual fighting ended, my plans laid aside, I headed to Kibbutz Kfar Giladi, in the far north, to do what I could to help.

I stayed for seven months, learned enough Hebrew to get by, worked where needed during the day and taught youngster basketball when school was out. And I learned how remarkable a people the Israelis are. There was a guest house at the kibbutz which the army used for R & R, and one of the things that struck me was how calm and mature the soldiers were. Here were guys my age, even younger, with the weight of the world on their shoulders, many with stories of brutal battle just two months behind them, but they kept their humor and gave you all the confidence in the world that Israel was safe during their watch. Their brashness came through, but so did their tenderness, and for all their poking fun at me for my American ways, they were genuinely pleased that someone would take the time to help -- and more than one of them told me that they wish they could have the same opportunity one day.

]]> Dan Senor's "Start-Up Nation," and you'll simultaneously be proud and amazed at how far the Israelis have come at creating new systems that are changing the world.

After you've read the book, it will come as no surprise to you that it was the Israelis who were the first to land in Haiti, and the first to set up a fully-operational field hospital. You may have seen the news reports. While other countries were giving lip service to giving aid or were struggling to bring people and supplies into the country, the Israelis were treating hundreds of triage patients, taking computerized pictures, establishing electronic medical records and communicating by satellite with hospitals back home. It was an awesome achievement, conducted with that same calm, poise and determination in a crisis that I saw first hand 37 years ago.

As I watched the TV news interviews of Israeli doctors, I thought of my time on the kibbutz and what some of the kibbutniks had told me. Now, they were certainly getting their chance to help others--and what a job they were doing. It was with typical Israeli resourcefulness, skill and compassion, and I'm sure that a tear came to your eye when one of the doctors said, "When we get to save one life, we save the world." As with all people, we have to marvel at what the Israeli team brought to Haiti during those dark hours--and as Jews, we have every reason to be especially proud of how this tiny nation showed the world what tikkun olam is all about.

The Israeli story is now about more than biblical heritage and a young nation's fight for survival. It's about how a maturing nation built on Jewish principles and a lot of chutzpah is able to show the world how to use your talents to help others, and it is this example that we should hold up to our children of why Israel is so important to all of us.

Galilee Diary: Rainy day

2010-01-26T20:41:01Z

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

Moving from the Midwest to the Mideast involved looking at rainy days in a new way. It took me a number of years to internalize the concept that rainy days are not an inconvenience, but rather a blessing. For a long time I knew how to say the words, but I didn't feel the feeling. But after a while I noticed that awakening to the sound of rain actually feels good; the overcast sky, the drumming of the drops, the smell on the air - all are actually - and counterintuitively - cheering and invigorating. I guess it takes years for one's body to attune to the seasonal rhythms of a place.

We are having a stormy week. The headlines are the weather - yesterday two rain tourists were killed in the Negev. There are different Hebrew terms for two types of streams: "nachal eitan," a "strong stream," refers to streams in which water flows all year around; "nachal achzav," a "disappointing stream," refers to streams that exist only in the rainy season. All of the rivers in the desert are in the latter category, indeed, they may flow for only a few days a year - but after a few stormy days, they gush with overwhelming force, and the rapids and waterfalls that suddenly appear in the dry environment are beautiful and impressive (and often destructive) sights, which every year claim casualties - either macho drivers undaunted by some water on the road, or sightseers who get too close. Here in the Galilee we also have "disappointing streams," like the Hilazon, whose course passes just below Shorashim. For years it flowed constantly - with raw sewage from the area; however, that was solved, and it has gone back to its natural dry state except for a few days after a really heavy rain, like today, when the runoff gushing down the mountains turns it into a real river flowing west into the sea. Meanwhile, it's not only the brave and the foolish who are affected by the rain - roads and train tracks all over the country are flooded out today, and my neighbors and I are watching our ceilings for signs of the usual dampness from the sensitive spots on our flat roofs. But when the sun comes out tomorrow the landscape will be lush and green and ablaze with wildflowers.
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We've been praying for rains of blessing around here for centuries. The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Rabbi Yoffie on Women of the Wall

2010-01-25T14:51:46Z

Rabbi Eric Yoffie, President of the Union for Reform Judaism, had an op-ed published last week in the San Francisco Bay Area's J Weekly, titled "At the Wall, which side is the right one?: The Kotel belongs to the entire Jewish people." In it, he addresses the controversy surrounding the Women of the Wall, including the 2009 arrest of Nofrat Frenkel for wearing a prayer shawl at the Kotel, as well as the recent interrogation of Anat Hoffman, Director of the Israel Religious Action Center, for her leadership of the monthly women's prayer group. Rabbi Yoffie writes:

Why turn [the Kotel] into a source of division? Why should the Wall be an ultra-Orthodox synagogue rather than a place that belongs to us all -- a place where all Jews can find space to pray, to gather, and to celebrate the Jewish homeland and the Jewish people?

Twenty years ago I proposed a solution to the problem of access to the Wall, and it remains the best answer. There is ample room to divide the Wall into three areas: one for men to pray according to Orthodox custom; one for women to pray according to Orthodox custom; and one for non-Orthodox prayer and secular and civil ceremonies of various kinds.

He goes on to say that the "Robinson's Arch solution," which permits non-Orthodox Jews to pray at an archaeological site at a distance from the Wall, is no solution at all; he goes on to dismiss the idea that permitting Reform and Conservative Jews to pray at the Kotel could lead to chanting by visiting Catholics or Buddhists. Finally, Rabbi Yoffie writes:

And since there is not a single, universally accepted religious standard that governs Jewish religious life, we should make no attempt to impose one at the Kotel. What we need, rather, is to be respectful of each other's choices and customs.

You can learn more about the Women of the Wall controversy at urj.org/israel/wow, and then listen to a recording of Anat Hoffman speaking about the Women of the Wall (albeit before her interrogation).

What do you think of the Women of the Wall controversy? What should be done? Is there any solution in sight?

Israel's Response to the Haitian Earthquake

2010-01-22T20:58:33Z

by Rabbi Ira Youdovin
former ARZA Executive Director and current chair of ARZA's Rabbinic Cabinet

Televised images of Gaza, Israel's security barrier and alleged mistreatment of the Palestinians have undermined the Jewish State's standing in world opinion. CNN footage from Haiti tells a very different story, and reveals much about Israel's soul, and the circumstances under which Israelis live.

By last Thursday evening, only 48 hours after the devastating earthquake, Israel had assembled and sent airborne a flight loaded with military and civilian medical personnel, including 120 doctors and nurses, rescue teams, search dogs, and equipment and supplies for establishing a sophisticated field hospital capable of treating 500 patients daily. The hospital went operational in Port-au-Prince Friday afternoon, serving as the only facility in Haiti offering advanced treatment to the seriously wounded. "It came from halfway around the world", an astonished CNN's reporter notes. The United States, which lies only a few hundred miles north of Haiti, had yet to put its mission in place.

The sad aspect of this heroic story is that Israel was able to mobilize so quickly because its people have had much experience----too much experience--- in addressing emergencies in which human lives hang in the balance. The rapid response skills displayed in Haiti have been honed through years of rescuing critically wounded victims of suicide bombings and other acts of terrorism.

]]> Among other Israelis responding to the Haitian crisis is a team of Israeli ultraorthodox Jews from ZAKA, an organization founded during the first wave of suicide bombings to collect the scattered body parts of victims in order to bury them in conformity with halacha. But ZAKA discovered early on that its rapid arrival on the scene also positioned its workers to rescue the living, which they do with incredible speed and ultimate skill.

Arriving Friday afternoon, the ZAKA team was immediately dispatched to a collapsed school building, where it pulled eight students from the rubble. They worked straight through the Sabbath---as mandated by halacha to save human lives---breaking briefly to welcome Shabbat with the traditional wine and bread, an experience they reportedly shared with rescue workers from Egypt and Qatar.

But having all the experience and skill in the world is worthless without a commitment to share it. Israel has repeatedly provided assistance to victims of crises such as the 1998 floods in Central America, and earthquakes in Turkey (1999), El Salvador (2001) and India (2001). Additionally, Israel has aided refugees from Kosovo, and welcomed Vietnamese "boat people." Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs maintains a list of Israeli contributions to the welfare of others. It includes more than 140 recipient states and authorities.

Israel is often accused of being "disproportionate" in its use of force. In fact, its enormous contribution to the well-being of people everywhere is entirely disproportionate for a tiny nation of only 7.5 people. Of that, we can be enormously proud.

Israel in Haiti: Lending More than a Hand

2010-01-22T15:52:22Z

by Rabbi David A. Lyon
Congregation Beth Israel, Houston, TX

The aftermath of the earthquake in Haiti is still coming into focus. The daily news reports the devastation on the ground. We see the desperate lives of people fending for themselves, rummaging for food and shelter, and seeking medical help. It tears at our hearts and souls. Americans have responded generously with extraordinary amounts of goods and money. Troops, ships and planes are arriving with capable personnel and mass quantities of food, water, and medical supplies. The world has grown accustomed to America's commitment to serve humanity in times of natural disasters. What the world has not always known in times of natural disasters is the remarkable response of the people of Israel.

Surely, you have seen on the news or read in the paper about Israel's unprecedented level of aid to the people of Haiti. As of January 20th, only days after the earthquake, Israel set up field hospitals to serve various levels of medical care. In the very short time they have been in Haiti, it is reported that 367 patients have been cared for in Israel's field hospitals; 104 life-saving operations have been performed; 44 patients are currently hospitalized; and 7 babies have been born in the hospital. The description of the level of sophistication and readiness in the Israeli field hospitals is simply extraordinary.

]]> To express pride in a time of tragedy is totally inappropriate. The Israeli personnel arrived in Haiti to do only one thing: a mitzvah. "Pikuah nefesh," to save a life is the greatest deed a person can do. Judaism sees this world not as a depot before arriving at another destination or a pathway to a better place; rather Judaism sees life as God's blessing, and it is only in life that a mitzvah (a commandment) can be performed. It drives the Jewish spirit to pursue life-giving deeds, occupations, and responses to anything that threatens life and humanity. Israelis know this better than anyone else. American Jews know it, too, but we don't live on the border of life-threatening issues and people who want to kill us. In Israel, preparation for life-threatening events has been part of the reason that the Land and its people have survived. And, may I add, they have done more than thrive. Do you know another nation that has accomplished as much in 60 years?

Israel has gifted to the Haitian people, with no expectation for anything in return, a part of the spirit that lives in them. In every field hospital and in every operation performed by life-saving hands they share their spirit that says, "Choose life!" (Deuteronomy 30:19).

In a world where hate spews over borders with Israel, and suicide-bombers take lives rather than save them, Israelis have an indomitable spirit. It's reflected in an uncommon level of courage and self-sacrifice that gives life to people in Haiti on the brink of death, and hope to people on the brink of despair. I don't have the skills to do what Israeli personnel are doing in Haiti, this week. But, I do share their spirit and so do you. As an American, I'm grateful to American personnel who demonstrate our values as a nation. As a Jew, I'm profoundly moved and deeply impressed by the wherewithal that flows from a tiny nation that has so little for itself and so much to give to others.

I know that you have given money and goods to Haiti, because they need everything desperately. I hope you'll join me in giving generously to Israel, too, to replenish their supplies and their resources. They'll need them in the future to help themselves during times of upheaval, and now we know, as does the world, that they'll be ready to stand with anyone on earth who struggles to choose life.

Galilee Diary: Values collide

2010-01-19T21:57:40Z

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

We hold that the State of Israel was not permitted, by law, to allocate State land to the Jewish Agency for the purpose of establishing the communal settlement of Katzir on the basis of discrimination between Jews and non-Jews.
-Israel Supreme Court decision, March 8, 2000

The issue of "admissions committees" in rural communities, which has been simmering for over a decade, came to a boil in recent months and has now sort of boiled over. For decades, kibbutzim and most other gated rural communities had rather draconian admissions procedures. For example, when we came to Shorashim in 1990 there was a preliminary interview, psychological testing, a weekend visit, a weeklong trial residency, a vote for acceptance to a year of probationary membership, and, at the end of the year, a final vote for membership. It was taken for granted that small communities had the right to choose their members, to perpetuate their values. We got in; some other families didn't. While troubled on one level by this exclusivity, on another level Tami and I believed in it, as it seemed obvious that without it, our little Camelot would be overrun by city-dwellers looking for suburban life, with no interest in preserving and supporting Shorashim's liberal Jewish life style. Of course, we tended to think keeping out those who might undermine the comfortable homogeneity that had so attracted us to the community meant selecting for people like us in our Jewish and liberal values. The flip side of that selection, which we didn't really think about, was that non-Jews would certainly not fit the criteria. And since around here, non-Jews are mostly Arabs, we were essentially adopting a policy that was ethnically/religiously exclusive, something that we had railed against whenever we encountered it in the United States, growing up in the 50s and 60s.

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Over the past two years this ongoing controversy has landed in our backyard, as an Arab family applied to build in a community a few miles from here; their case is currently before the supreme court, and it seems pretty likely that the Katzir precedent will hold in their case. Most of the 30 Jewish communities in our county define themselves as "secular." Some have synagogues that are active; many don't have synagogues, or only use them for bar/bat mitzvahs or the high holidays. Most have a communal cultural life that doesn't have much to do with Jewish observances. Suddenly there has been a flurry of legal activity as these communities rush to amend their bylaws to include some kind of Jewish-Zionist definition which would require new members to agree to a statement of commitment that an Arab couldn't sign. And concern that these provisions might also ultimately fail in court has given rise to the effort to pass a law in the Knesset that would authorize local communities to be selective in their admissions, and to impose a non-religious but ideological test. This proposal seems likely to pass, despite vigorous efforts by civil rights organizations to stop it. The early 20th century Zionist writer Yosef Haim Brenner said that Jews' bragging of their morality is like a eunuch bragging that he is not an adulterer. It seems to be much easier to be a strong supporter of minority rights when you are a member of a minority...

Galilee Diary: Torah for the masses

2010-01-12T19:56:18Z

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

Ben Bag-Bag says: Turn [the Torah] over and turn it over, for everything is in it. -Mishnah, Avot 5:22

I just returned from Limmud Galil, where I had the misfortune to be teaching a class in the first period of the morning (8:00) on the second day of the event, after the participants had all stayed up singing until 2:00 am. And my class was in the same slot as several big name speakers - and a Pilates workshop. So it was intimate.

Limmud ("learning") got its start in England 25 years ago, and has since spread all over the world. The idea is to make Torah study accessible to the masses by creating a sort of festival that brings together learners and teachers of every background and interest for a brief, intensive experience of learning and socializing and crossing ideological and institutional boundaries. The idea is that everyone volunteers - to teach, to organize, so it really becomes a learning community. The "costs" are that there is a certain amount of chaos (my class was small; a few years ago a friend had no learners at all at her session; it's nice to let people learn what they want when they want, but to volunteer to teach, spend time preparing and end up not teaching is rather annoying); and that the quality of instruction can be uneven. And by definition, just about anything goes (a woman stuck her head in the door of my class on halachic controversies, to ask where the class on spirit communication was taking place).

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Limmud Galil began 7 years ago, and was, I think, the first Israeli version. Now there are Limmud spinoffs in various regions around the country. Meanwhile, for over a decade, Kibbutz Kfar Blum in the far north has been holding an annual Jewish learning festival that has become a national "event." Less voluntaristic/communal, more commercial, the Kfar Blum festival draws attendees from all over the country, and while its offerings are rich and serious, it exists less to enlighten the local population and more to boost tourism to the Galilee Panhandle. Its cast is truly "star-studded" in public figures, Jewish scholars, and entertainers. There are plenty of popular entertainers who have returned to their Jewish roots in recent times, to provide quality musical programs along with the study.

Like Limmud UK, Limmud Galil has also turned toward developing ongoing learning, becoming involved in sponsoring and marketing local study groups throughout the year (for example, in cooperation with the Israeli version of the Melton Minischool).

Limmud is part of the larger trend in Israeli society in the past 15 years, of people from non-traditional communities seeking to reconnect to the Jewish texts from which they were alienated by the polarized nature of Jewish life here. It is certainly possible to question the value of one-shot festivals as opposed to ongoing, committed, study. But it's also possible to see in this phenomenon a welcome fulfillment of a Zionist vision of Judaism becoming the popular culture of a modern state, separated from its manifestation in the synagogue, but not from its roots in the classical texts.

Let's Raise Hell

2010-01-10T02:17:17Z

by JanetheWriter
(Originally posted on JanetheWriter Writes)

A few weeks ago, I wrote on the Union's blog about the ongoing controversy involving women wearing tallitot and praying at the kotel in Jersusalem. Earlier this week, Anat Hoffman, excecutive director of the Israel Religious Action Center (IRAC) was interrogated by police for her efforts to spearhead this sacred endeavor.

In this video, she talks with JTA's Ben Harris about the experience:

As she suggests, we can keep quiet or we can raise hell.

I'd vote for the latter. What about you?

Progressive Judaism: the Un-"official" Alternative

2010-01-07T17:51:30Z

by Sherry Levy-Reiner

When my husband and I visited Vienna several times in the 1990s, the gemeinde (official Jewish community) would not publish the schedule of services at the Progressive Congregation Or Chadasch in its communal newspaper or even allow the congregation to buy an ad.

I thought about Vienna when I read an article currently being distributed by the JTA and printed in many local Jewish newspapers that paints a picture of the "bleak future" of Danish Jewry. The article is by Ben Harris, who also blogs at JTA as "The Wandering Jew," where he frequently writes about the bleak future of small Jewish communities in the U.S.

In reporting on Danish Jewish assimilation, Harris fails to make a crucial connection between two facts of Jewish life in Europe:

Religious activities are state-supported with a religious "head tax" that is distributed by the government to the religious communities.
The Jewish "community" is controlled by and defined as the Orthodox Jewish community.

]]> Just as in Israel, the Orthodox community claims its rights as the only authentic Jews. Progressive or Liberal or Reform Judaism does not merit support or even recognition. Over the years, the World Union for Progressive Judaism has gone head-to-head with governments, particularly Germany, over funding. Some progress has been made there.

In Copenhagen - as in Munich, Milan, Vienna, Barcelona, and many other European cities, as well as in the FSU - there is an active Progressive community, but one has to search for it with great determination.

In these places with state-supported synagogues and Hebrew schools, Jewish children are taught that there is only one kind of Judaism. They see - at public events where the leaders of the Jewish community have a role - only Orthodox rabbis. Adherence to Orthodox Judaism is sanctioned and institutionalized by nothing less than the state.

In these cities and countries, then, is it so surprising that these young people see the only alternative to practicing Orthodox Judaism as leaving Judaism? Only if they have been fortunate enough to have stumbled across some Progressive Jews, they may find their way to a new minority community and, as we have seen over and over again, find their own sacred place.

As for visitors/tourists who are searching for signs of Jewish life, a website listing synagogues or Jewish activities in Copenhagen - such as visitcopenhagen.com - does not include Progressive Jewish organizations.

When I mention a Progressive congregation in St. Petersburg or Florence, my friends say, "We visited the Great Synagogue on our Baltic cruise" or "I remember that beautiful synagogue in Florence." I respond, "Reform Jews aren't allowed to use those beautiful buildings for their Services."

Harris's article, by the way, does not mention Copenhagen's Congregation Shir Hatzafon.

Galilee Diary: Health care

2010-01-05T21:00:52Z

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

And if you do obey these rules and observe them carefully, the Lord your God will maintain faithfully for you the covenant He made on oath with your fathers...The Lord will ward off from you all sickness; He will not bring upon you any of the dreadful diseases of Egypt, about which you know, but will inflict them upon all your enemies.
-Deuteronomy 7:12, 15

A recent trip to the regional specialty clinic in Haifa reminded me that for all the criticisms that it is possible to level at Israel for the gap between rich and poor, and for the inequalities in opportunities for different ethnic groups, one area in which we really have the right to be proud of our achievements is the health care system. First of all, it is important to point out that Israel has universal basic health care coverage. In return for a small monthly payroll deduction (waived for those who don't have a paycheck), every citizen can choose to enroll in one of several national HMOs. All normal, routine care and preventive care are covered, and there is a large "basket" of more expensive treatments, diagnostic tests, hospitalization, and medications that are included. Of course, the system is not infinite, and there is always controversy about what conditions or treatments are excluded from the "basket." Moreover, the limitations and inefficiencies that are probably inherent in any such system lead to class-based inequalities: those who can afford it buy supplemental insurance to cover what the system doesn't - and bypass the bureaucracy and waiting periods by paying for surgery privately. And at any given time there is a least one campaign being waged in the media to raise money for someone needing a hugely expensive treatment (e.g., organ transplant). The system clearly has its deficiencies. But it is a system that works. Everyone, regardless of religion or social class or ethnic group, can go to the doctor, can get a prescription for an expensive antibiotic, can have a CT scan, can see a top specialist - without stopping to wonder how to pay for it. Is the equality absolute? No, if you live in the periphery you'll have to spend time and money travelling to that regional specialty clinic; if you live in an unrecognized Bedouin village your local clinic may be limited in equipment (and in the hours it has electricity). If you are a foreign worker, you may be at the mercy of your labor contractor. We still have plenty to do; but it seems that the glass is way more than half full.

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So there's another reason to make aliyah, besides the cucumbers.

President Shimon Peres Visits Kibbutz Lotan

2010-01-03T22:32:03Z

by Alex Cicelsky
Founder, Kibbutz Lotan

The recent President's Conference in Jerusalem opened with a video that showcased innovative research and development in the Negev and highlighted Reform Kibbutz Lotan's ecology center. To see this work for himself, the President of Israel, Shimon Peres, visited the Eilot Region in Israel's southern Arava Valley. Peres's visit focused on initiatives the region is taking in environmental education and renewable energy.

Kibbutz Lotan, which has achieved national prominence for its ecological projects, was Peres's final stop. After being greeted by a delegation of kibbutz children, Peres and the kibbutz general director Mark Naveh (a graduate of NETZER Australia) toured the Center for Creative Ecology's facilities. The President met the young Israelis doing a year of service after high school who demonstrated the art of making mud bricks. He also learned about assembling a geodesic dome with palm branches from American college students participating in the Center's Peace, Justice & the Environment semester program (affiliated with Living Routes, the University of Massachusetts and MASA).

Peres met with kibbutz members in the Center's solar tea house reception area. One of Lotan's founders, Mike Nitzan, related the history of the Kibbutz and its Reform Zionist vision. Michael Livni, the first shaliah (emissary) to the Reform Movement of North America in the 1970's, presented Peres with a copy of his book, "The Reform Option: Another Zionism". The President expressed his appreciation for Lotan's pioneering role in ecological innovation and also noted the significance of the affiliation with the Reform movement - the largest stream of Judaism in the Diaspora.

Peres was particularly impressed with the sustainable technologies incorporated in the Center including organic gardening, solar ovens, strawbale construction and sewage treatment using a constructed wetland. The visit ended with the President making a personal evaluation of the waterless toilets, an important tool for eliminating pollution and conserving precious resources.

Pictures are below the jump, or visit KibbutzLotan.com for more.

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President Shimon Peres receives a Captain Compost Superhero t-shirt from the children of Kibbutz Lotan during his visit to the community's educational EcoPark.

President

Shimon Peres poses with the elementary school aged children of Kibbutz Lotan and education staff at the entrance to the Center for Creative Ecology's EcoPark.

One of the many skills learned on Lotan's creative ecology programs is alternative building. Here, students from the Peace, Justice and the Environment college semester demonstrate to President Shimon Peres how to build a geodesic dome from recycled palm branches.

Galilee Diary: Round and round

2009-12-30T03:14:13Z

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

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die...
-Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

Last Thursday, after a long struggle with cancer, Tsippy Oren, a veteran member of Shorashim, passed away, at home, at the age of 58. She was a remarkable member of a remarkable family. Classically "secular" Israelis deeply sympathetic to the liberal religious orientation of Shorashim, devout Zionists, strong advocates for social justice and civil society, open minded and open hearted - a sort of embodiment of the mythical Israeli. Tsippy was an occupational therapist, but beyond her professional commitments she was always quietly finding ways to help others - bereaved families, Arab women, families in trouble - and who knows who else. One son helped found a new kibbutz dedicated to education and social activism without great prospects for prosperity; a daughter became ultra-orthodox. The Orens didn't miss a beat and remained a model of a close and loving and inclusive family. Tsippy was our liaison when we were first visiting and considering joining Shorashim, and was our advocate when our candidacy was questioned because of our advanced age (44). I think part of what drew us here was the prospect of living in a community made up of people like her. Her loss is a very sad moment for all of us at Shorashim - all the more so because it represents a sort of actuarial turning point for us; in the early days of the community a young mother died of cancer, but that was an anomaly, a tragedy. In this death, on the other hand, we all hear the clock ticking.

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There was a baby-naming and a kiddush on Shabbat morning, and it was really joyous; after sundown there was a crowd for the shivah minyan at the house of mourning a few hundred yards away.

The Druze religion holds that there is a fixed number of Druze souls in the world, so when a member of the community dies, his/her soul returns in a newborn baby somewhere in the Druze world. I've never been convinced of the math, and in any case the concept doesn't work for me, even if there have been some Jewish kabbalistic thinkers who have put forth similar ideas. But it is hard to escape the symbolism of the coincidence of the two biological events that occurred in this community last week. A community is like an organism; it grows and develops, losing cells and gaining new ones, all the while holding to some central identity, a form, an envelope of beliefs and behaviors and values that make it different from all other communities. But unlike an organism, whose characteristics are largely determined by its DNA, a community has no such powerful regulatory mechanism - you can never be sure just what it will look like in the next generation. All you can do is work at it, educating, advocating, trying to build institutions - and taking comfort, now and then, from moments of fulfillment and symbolic gestures and events that carry a message of hope.

No Better Place to Be

2009-12-23T20:33:04Z

by JanetheWriter

An article in this week's New York Times and this post right here on the Union's blog--also published this week--both reminded me of a Facebook conversation I had with a college friend back in February, right after Rosh Chodesh Adar when women celebrated by (gasp!) singing at the Wall. At that time, I'd posted this piece on my own blog, which prompted my friend to be in touch.

My friend: "Hi Jane - enjoyed your blog and the links about the women singing at the wall. Doesn't that hatred of women make you never want to visit Israel again? It makes me furious. How do you reconcile?"

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Me: "Thanks for reading my blog. No...in the same way that I didn't stop traveling immediately after 9/11, neither do I not visit Israel or the Wall. It belongs to all of us and try as they might, the ultra Orthodox cannot take it away from us. If we don't go, they win. On my last visit to Jerusalem, I visited the Wall on Shabbat with two friends. One of them had forgotten to write the note she wanted to insert into the Wall and so we went into the ladies room, I gave her a pen and paper, and she scribbled it right there, using the sink as a desk. Somehow, it seemed like a little piece of justice!"

Sadly, not much has changed for women at the Wall in the months since my friend and I had that exchange. As I was there (in spirit) with those who sang at the Kotel in February, so was I there (in spirit) with Nofrat Frenkel and the others as they donned tallitot for prayer at the Wall more recently. In fact, I can think of no better place to be. As we gather there--in person and in spirit--may all of us know equality and religious freedom and may we know it, as our tradition tells us, "speedily and in our day."

Some Color at the Kotel: Rosh Chodesh Tevet

2009-12-21T19:25:18Z

Anat Hoffman is the Executive Director of the Israel Religious Action Center in Jerusalem. This post originally appeared as a message in IRAC's December 21, 2009 newsletter, The Pluralist. To sign up for updates from IRAC, visit www.irac.org.

Last Friday, Rosh Chodesh Tevet, 153 women found it in themselves to get up early on a wretched, rainy, and miserable morning and walk to the Kotel, for what could be - following Nofrat Frenkel's arrest one month prior - an unpredictable morning of prayer.

We were women of all ages and denominations, gathered together under a canopy of bright umbrellas that looked especially vibrant on a gray day. We stood at the back of the women's section to pray, and when it was time to read from the Torah we walked toward Robinson's Arch, singing as we went. We were joined by a couple dozen men who walked with us in solidarity, while others spit on us and threw potatoes and colorful insults.

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Last Friday morning, the rabbi of the Wall, Shmuel Rabinovitch, looked up at the skies and said, "It's not for nothing that the rain raged at that time, because the heavens are crying over women who try to harm the Western Wall and the feelings of those who pray there."

I can tell you that when we finally read from the Torah (though we were unable to read from the actual scroll), we felt impervious to Rabinovitch's words. We were refreshed by our prayer, and by each other. We were ready for next Rosh Chodesh.

Israel Makes it Hard to be a Zionist

2009-12-18T17:45:51Z

by Olivia Cohen-Cutler and dcc

In September of this year, Jay Michaelson wrote an essay for The Forward about why his love for Israel was waning because he was tired of constantly being forced to defend her. Most of his essay was focused on the fact that it is hard to defend a state that fights rock-throwing kids with tanks. We all know that isn't the whole story, but as Michaelson explains, that is what most people see, and therefore, that is the burden those who support Israel must bear.

It seems like he missed a major reason why liberal Jews have trouble supporting this State. Not only are there glaring international problems with Israel's approach to fighting its wars, its increasingly fundamentalist cultural stands make it harder and harder for liberal Jews to identify with the State of Israel.

Last month, 25 year-old medical student Nofrat Frenkel was arrested at Judaism's holiest site, the Western Wall, for the "crime" of leading a Torah service and wearing a tallit for the Rosh Chodesh group "Women of the Wall." Her offense, according to the police, was "performing a religious act that offends the feelings of others."

]]> Now if Israel wants to start incarcerating offensive religious leaders for their actions, there is a list a mile long of people primed for long-term imprisonment. Regrettably, however, we know that isn't the case.

What really happened was that the religious establishment doesn't like women doing anything outside of what they are told is acceptable by said religious establishment.

If it were only at religious places, this would be offensive enough, and something we could at least try to combat with singing and prayer and other such religious actions. But this discrimination goes much further into Israeli society.

In less than a month the Israeli Minister of Transportation will choose to either support modern norms of equality or codify antiquated notions of sexism. The ultra-Orthodox in Israel have demanded that government-funded buses require women to sit in the back of the bus in some neighborhoods. Incredibly, this misguided action has been going on for a while; there are horrific stories about how women are treated if they do not move to the back when a man boards the bus.

There are campaigns to stop this activity in Israel but how can we be sure civilized voices will prevail? Sadly, we cannot be sure.

For years, progressive Judaism has been subjugated in Israel. What isn't exactly in sync with Chief Rabbis' pronouncements simply is considered "Not Jewish." Women live as second class citizens in the eyes of the religious establishment. What is worse is that the secular Israeli community doesn't seem to care so much what the Haredim do in their own world. The fight against the regressive edicts from the government-supported religious establishment comes from noble non-profits that receive most of their support and membership from the United States. A vast majority of Israeli society doesn't care about the same things as a vast majority of American Jews do; clearly, we live in completely different worlds.

This is at the core of why we have trouble wholeheartedly supporting Israel.

Israel should defend itself against attack. Israel should support international laws and abide by its treaties. We both support Israel's right to exist as a Jewish and democratic state, but the laws on the books that treat women like it is 1209 instead of 2009 make it hard for us to believe that this state is living up to its Jewish, let alone its democratic, values.

Now there are those in our Movement who will say this is a Zionist point of view. We disagree. This is our point of view. We are engaged with the Jewish community and have deeply cared about Israel. But ultimately we have come to the realization that our community doesn't persecute women for their beliefs nor does it allow its government to enact laws that limit the free movement and assembly of women, men or anyone else.

This is why we have a hard time supporting Israel and why Israel makes it hard to be a Zionist.

Olivia is the chair of the MorningStar Commission, founded by Hadassh, a member of the board of directors for the Jewish Women's Archive and dcc's mother. She instilled in him at an early age that women have the same rights as men.

Galilee Diary: Laughter

2009-12-15T18:37:55Z

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

Thus said the Lord: Again there shall be heard in this place, which you say is ruined, without man or beast - in the towns of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem that are desolate, without man, without inhabitants, without beast - the sound of mirth and gladness... -Jeremiah 33:10-11

So there I was on the train from Tel Aviv, coming home to the Galilee, on a Tuesday evening after rush hour. The train was nevertheless full - I had to walk through two cars to find a seat. The passengers on these late trains seem to be characterized by their tiredness - it has been a long day. Many people doze and/or listen to their ipods, some read books (they read the tabloid on the way to work - there's nothing left to read in it by evening), more and more work on their laptops. There are always a few passengers travelling with a friend or acquaintance or coworker, who actually converse during the ride; a much larger number are conversing with someone far away, by cell phone - you can hear them all - the soldier breaking up with her boyfriend, the teenager arguing with his mother, the foreman barking work instructions, the mother guiding her kid through dinner preparations. Conversations in Hebrew and Russian and Arabic and English and occasionally Amharic. Seems like the harder you try not to listen, the more you hear. I've noticed, too, that many who are not talking on their cell phones are nevertheless busy with them, texting or playing games or exploring "features."

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And as we dozed and chatted our way through the darkness, speeding north along the coast, somewhere before Haifa a young woman with a Russian accent, sitting with a friend near the center of the car, broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter. It was a nice laugh, not annoying, real and happy and a little musical. But after the first outburst, she got trapped in a feedback loop and couldn't stop. Her peals of laughter filled the car - there was no way you could ignore them. Some people stood up or craned their necks to see what was going on. And ultimately, just about everyone found him/herself smiling or even laughing out loud. Strangers sitting side by side commented to each other with a smile, enjoying the shared experience. For about ten minutes all of us were lifted out of our tired, hungry, bored, anxious-to-be-somewhere-else, lonely reality and brought together by an experience of shared joy. We all knew it was silly, and meaningless, and yet we were all laughing in spite of ourselves, and feeling permitted to do so by the fact that the strangers sitting around us were laughing too.

Mass behavior - or shared humanity?

Put us in a sealed train, cut us off from our ethnic, class, religious, and ideological identities, and it turns out we can, now and then, find and recognize and even enjoy the underlying human elements that we all have in common.

Finally the laugher's friends managed to calm her down, and the ambient noise of train sounds and cell-phone cacophony took over again, and the train stopped at Haifa and started to empty out, and we all went back to how and what we had been before. Or did we?

Galilee Diary: Rabbis II

2009-12-08T21:40:46Z

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

I have indeed removed them far among nations and have scattered them among the countries and I have become to them a diminished sanctity [or small sanctuary] in the countries whither they have gone...
-Ezekiel 11:16

Rabbi Isaac says "a small sanctuary" refers to synagogues and houses of study... -Babylonian Talmud Tractate Megilah 29a

One of the most interesting challenges facing us as we think about the recruitment and training of Reform rabbis in Israel is the difference between the synagogue in the Diaspora and the synagogue in Israel. Consider:

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In Israel, Hebrew is the spoken language; the prayerbook, the sermon, the Torah reading are all in Hebrew, and every child who attends public school can read Hebrew fluently.

In Israel, even the "secular" public schools are not only conducted in Hebrew, but teach Bible and Jewish history and even some Jewish philosophy.

In some ways here, the state replaces the Jewish community of the Diaspora (e.g., by providing Jewish education, kashrut supervision, etc.); but even where it doesn't, people live in Jewish communities, hang out with Jewish friends, have to look pretty hard to find non-Jews to date - all without a connection to a synagogue. Community centers are busy with cultural, youth, and athletic activities that reflect on a basic cultural level their Jewish identities.

In other words, the synagogue here has a fairly minimal role in formal education, culture and communal life, and is to a large extent limited to being a house of prayer, and a venue for adult study. The local Orthodox rabbi is often a government employee who serves the local synagogue which is primarily a house of prayer and adult study - and he fulfills the traditional role of mainly an authority on Jewish law, a teacher of adults, and "spiritual counselor" (i.e, chaplain). He often is not the person who leads prayer, a function shared by many competent members of the community.

Reform synagogue culture is different, and our rabbis are different: while our rabbis, too, are spiritual counselors and teachers, their main role is often not legal authority, but rather prayer leader. The interesting question for me is: is this enough? Given the different nature of Jewish life here, should we perhaps be thinking of different models of rabbi - rabbis whose rabbinates are more integrated into public life - as public school principals, journalists, professors, even politicians? While there is certainly a need for congregational rabbis here, I wonder, if we really want transform Israeli society, if that should be the only - or the main - game in town...

Moreover, in the past ten years or so there has been a flowering of "Jewish renewal" communities - mainly expressed in large gatherings of un-synagogued Jews who define themselves as "secular" but who enthusiastically participate in neo-Chassidic style Kabbalat Shabbat and holiday services in community centers and even on the Tel Aviv boardwalk. These are explicitly not Reform congregations. But what are they? And the people who take a two-year training course (at a "secular" Jewish study institute) to be leaders of such congregations - are they rabbis? Will their congregants treat them as rabbis? Does it matter? Should we try to co-opt this incipient movement?

We used to complain that Israel was polarized between Orthodox and "secular," but at least then we knew where we stood. Now as options for Jewish identity and affiliation are multiplying, defining a Reform Jew gets more complex and interesting.

Galilee Diary: Rabbis

2009-12-01T19:04:32Z

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

Joshua ben Perachiah says: Make yourself a teacher (rabbi) and get yourself a colleague (friend) and judge every person leniently.
-Mishnah, Avot 1:6

Last week was the ordination ceremony for the new crop of rabbis in the Israeli program of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, in Jerusalem. Although I am new on the faculty, I had the privilege of calling up the six ordinees to receive their semichah from Rabbi David Ellenson, president of HUC-JIR. There was a large, enthusiastic crowd of family, friends, rabbis, teachers, and community leaders present in the Blaustein auditorium, whose stage backs up to a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows affording a magnificent view of Jerusalem. It was a moving ceremony for the ordinees and their families - and for the Reform Movement in Israel in general. Slowly but surely, year by year, we are building a cadre of professional leaders for Israeli society with a liberal vision of Judaism for a Jewish state. Most of the graduates are already placed in congregations - from the Galilee to the Aravah.

]]> It is interesting that the recipient of the honorary doctorate - and the featured speaker - at ordination this year was an Orthodox rabbi. Rabbi Michael Melchior, descended from generations of rabbis in Denmark, is a remarkable figure on the Israeli cultural scene. A founder of the Meimad party (whose name is an acronym for "Jewish state - democratic state"), he served as a member of the Knesset and a minister in the last coalition, and distinguished himself as one of the most effective legislators in the government, initiating successful legislation in the areas of environment, social justice, and children's rights. He founded a network of pluralistic schools (mixed Orthodox and non-Orthodox), and a public forum for Jewish-Arab dialogue. It is of course daunting to consider that despite his record and his values and his honor, in the last election his party did not receive enough votes to get even one seat in the Knesset, and he has now gone back to being a private citizen. He told us at dinner the evening before the ceremony that he generally turns down honorary doctorates, but he was proud to accept ours. His talk to the ordinees and the general audience was short and direct: in order for a Jewish state to be a Jewish state, it has to treat all of its citizens justly - there must be no "outsiders," not the Arabs, nor the poor, nor women, nor the elderly, nor the handicapped, nor the youth-at-risk, nor the non-Orthodox denominations (he had also expressed at dinner his disgust at the way the ultra-Orthodox have taken over the Western Wall - the day before ordination a young woman was arrested (!) there for wearing a tallit and holding a Torah).

It was very moving to realize that we had such an articulate and wise and impressive friend and ally in the Orthodox community. At the same time it was depressing to consider that he is a voice crying in the wilderness, not a spokesman for mainstream Orthodoxy, who, even with the group of similarly impressive social activists who made up his party, couldn't attract enough votes to hold onto even one Knesset seat. Rabbi Melchior represents a link in a chain of leaders over the past century - from all the denominations - who shared a vision of a Jewish state as a "light unto the nations," that would serve as the laboratory for the practical application of Jewish values in the setting of a modern, sovereign state. Some are famous for their contributions (Rabbi Judah Magnes, Henrietta Szold, Rabbi Pinhas Peli), many are not. It seems they have always been on the fringe - but they have always been a part of Israeli discourse, and have, quietly, helped to sustain the state and to keep an idealistic vision at least somewhat in focus. It was good to meet one in person - and to be encouraged by the possibility that the new Israeli Reform rabbis of 2009 may follow in his footsteps.

Galilee Diary: The Long Arm of the Law

2009-11-24T19:29:06Z

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

Judges and officers [shotrim, the word used in modern Hebrew for police] shall you set up in the gates that the Lord your God shall give you for your tribes, and they shall judge the people justly.
-Deuteronomy 16:18

The other day I was driving through Karmiel when my cell phone rang. I answered it and navigated off the road to a bus stop bay where I could stop out of the flow of traffic. I ended the call quickly and continued my journey, when I noticed a police flasher in my mirror. Sure enough, the cop had seen me talking on my phone while driving. He asked me if I had anything to say for myself, and I protested feebly that I had pulled off as soon as I answered the phone, but he was not impressed; after all, I had been driving and talking, even if it was just for a few seconds. The law is the law - and the cost of violating it was 1,000 shekels (about $250). I really do think that the law makes sense (it has been on the books, and enforced, since cell phones first became popular), and rarely speak on the phone while driving - generally only long enough to tell the caller that I can't talk now since I'm driving. And while there was the temptation to say something nasty (and unhelpful) like "Why are you spending your time nailing minor offenders in town when you could be preventing fatal accidents by lying in wait for speeders and illegal passers who abound on the rural highway just a mile away?" I resisted that temptation and accepted my fate, if somewhat sullenly, and really have resolved simply to ignore my phone if it rings while I'm driving.

]]> It's interesting how different the image of the police is in Israel from that with which I grew up in the United States. The police force here is a national institution, and overlaps in some ways with the army (for example, some young people do their compulsory service in the police, not the army); there is a Minister of Internal Security (i.e., police) on the cabinet While there are of course local police stations, the force is not really a local institution, and is often not perceived as the positive helping presence in the community that characterized the American neighborhood or small town cop. The popular image of the policeman is either as an annoyance - stopping cars randomly on the highway to check ID's, giving out "easy" traffic tickets like the one described above - or as an incompetent. Police work has always been considered a low-status profession in Israel. It is not clear if this low status is a kind of racist response to the fact that the force is disproportionately populated by Jews of Middle Eastern descent (and Arabs) - or if the ethnic makeup of the force is the result of its being a low-skilled entry into the job market, providing a secure civil-service job to people without a strong educational background. There aren't too many jokes about Jewish mothers wanting their sons to grow up to be policemen. However, I know objectively that the popular image is not fair, and that there are people who go into police work out of idealism, or searching for challenge. While the grass-roots public face of the police doesn't always reveal it, there are certainly bright and serious people on the force, bringing dedication, self-sacrifice, hard work, and sophisticated high-tech and low-tech means to bear on the ills that beset Israel like any other society, e.g., family violence, organized crime, human trafficking, a horrendous driving culture, drug dealing, violent demonstrations - and even terror. And like anyplace else, our cops have their successes and failures, their heroes and rotten apples.

I wonder if our centuries of ambivalent experience of the police as an arm of non-Jewish society have made it difficult for us to accord the Jewish police force the status and the respect it deserves as an essential factor in making our lives livable in the Jewish state.

Beyond Pita & Falafel: Sustainable Eating in Israel

2009-11-17T22:59:37Z

Miriam Farber is currently living in Jerusalem and studying in the Year Program at the Pardes Institute for Jewish Studies. She is an alumna of Eisner Camp and NFTY. To read more about Miriam's time in Israel, visit her blog at http://tovahhaaretz.blogspot.com.

(Originally posted at RACblog)

A few months before I left to spend this year studying in Jerusalem at the Pardes Institute for Jewish Studies, I brainstormed a list of all the things I was looking forward to enjoying once I arrived in Israel...most of which was food. Falafel, shwarma, shoko b'sakit (chocolate milk in a bag), chocolate bars filled with pop rocks, the fruits and vegetables of Machane Yehuda, Jerusalem's open-air market. So much of what I love about Israel is connected to its foods.

In the almost three months since I've been living in Jerusalem, the ways I connect to Eretz Yisrael through eating its food have moved beyond junk food and street food, to incorporating my Jewish social justice values in the way I cook and eat in Israel, through a CSA share (community-supported agriculture) and the Tav Chevrati.

]]> Chubeza, an organic farm located outside of Modi'in, and come home every Wednesday night to a large box of vegetables on our doorstep. Every week my box includes tomatoes and cucumbers (necessary for Israeli salad!), and a variety of other vegetables: eggplant, corn, scallions, winter squash, radishes, beets, sweet potatoes, herbs...

My CSA is a weekly, tangible example of the bounty of Israel, described in Deuteronomy: "For Adonai your God is bringing you into a good land...a land of wheat and barley, of vines, figs, and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey; a land where you may eat bread without scarceness, where you will lack nothing..." (Deut. 8:7-9)

Being a part of a CSA in Israel is important to me because it means that I eat locally and sustainably. I can walk into any supermarket here and find many of the same brands that I purchase in the United States, but I know where my vegetables are coming from - they aren't coming from thousands of miles away, and they are grown on a farm within Israel's borders. Every day, when I pack lunch and cook dinner, I automatically act out my values regarding the food I put into my body and the ways I spend my money when I am living in Israel.

Of course, even on a student budget, I don't eat every meal at home. When I go out to dinner, for coffee, or for ice cream, I look for the Tav Chevrati, the social seal, an initiative of the Jerusalem-based non-profit organization Bema'aglei Tzedek, Circles of Justice. The Tav Chevrati, the "Tav" for short, indicates that the food establishment respects the legally-mandated rights of its employees and is accessible to people with disabilities. Workers must receive minimum wage, be paid on time and overtime, and be treated within the minimum of Israeli labor law. The business must grant access and service to people with disabilities. I personally struggle with the idea of rewarding businesses for doing what is required of them legally, yet if the government is not stepping into to enforce the minimum legal requirement, the only reason business owners will uphold these laws is if they have an economic interest in doing so - if they know they will gain customers (including Israeli citizens and short-term and long-term foreign visitors) by having the Tav.

It is not about kashrut. The list of businesses with the Tav includes both kosher and non-kosher restaurants. The Tav is about the just treatment of human beings and reaching towards a vision of an ideal Israeli society. The reason I support businesses with the Tav is because I believe in the dignity of each and every person, whether they work in a restaurant as a waiter or a dishwasher, or want to be able to eat in the same restaurants I have access to as an able-bodied person.

Furthermore, this is about power; power that is made up of organized people and organized money. In order for the Tav Chevrati to be successful in creating a more just Israeli society, one that I am proud to participate in and support, many, many people need to intentionally support the establishments that do have the Tav Chevrati, and tell those businesses that they are there because of their commitment to social justice. Eating justly does not need to be contained to my kitchen; it is a practice I can continue when I am out exploring Israel and Jerusalem. It is not something we need to leave in the United States either. If you are coming to Israel, on your own or with a synagogue trip, seek out restaurants with the Tav Chevrati (see the English list here) and encourage your traveling companions to do the same.

Both my CSA and my support of the Tav Chevrati are ways that I live my life in Israel justly. My time here in Jerusalem is not only about my own learning, but is an opportunity for me to have a daily, tangible impact on Israeli society.

Galilee Diary: Jewish identity/Israeli identity

2009-11-17T20:21:39Z

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

Take your son," - "Which son?"
"Your only son," - "Each is the only son of his mother."
"The one you love," - "I love them both."
"Isaac."
-Midrash Genesis Rabbah 39, on Genesis 22:2

The other day I observed a Bible class in the regional high school at Kibbutz Sasa, in a gorgeous setting in the mountains of the Upper Galilee. This is a relatively small high school (about 350) and serves a number of non-Orthodox communities in the region. The classes tend to be small; there were only about 15 ninth graders in the lesson I visited, but the levels of interest and knowledge were pretty heterogeneous: there were some kids (mostly boys) who sat slumped in their seats and seemed to be working at demonstrating how uninvolved they were (one boy either fell asleep or pretended to do so, forcing the teacher to wake him up), while others participated actively, answering and asking questions as the teacher reviewed with them the dramatic narrative of Abraham's almost-sacrifice of Isaac. The teacher was dynamic and energetic, and worked at trying to get the students to think about the problematic nature of this story.

]]> The above description would be unremarkable, probably typical of many classrooms in Israel, except for the fact that most of the students in the room were not Jewish. Among the communities served by this regional school is Reichaniya, one of the two Circassian villages in Israel (I wrote about the Circassians a few years ago when I met the imam of Reichaniya). The Circassians, from the Caucasus region near the Caspian Sea, were expelled by the Russians who conquered their territory in 1864. First moving west into the Balkans, they then dispersed, with many ending up settling in the Middle East; thus, these non-Arab Moslems arrived in Palestine in the late 19th century just when Zionist settlement in the area was getting started. While they shared the same religion as most of the local population, they were culturally (and linguistically) distinct, and were seen by the local Arabs as European interlopers just like the Jews. Thus, they represent still another small minority in Israel who are not really part of any of the major population groups - they speak their own language, and work at keeping their own distinct culture alive (music, dance, food, and a rather remarkable marriage custom in which the groom "kidnaps" the bride). They serve in the Israeli army, and since their village is too small for a high school, and since they do not feel part of the Arab minority, the teens from Reichaniya attend the Sasa high school where they are a significant presence in a small school.

In the class I observed, one girl was wearing a hijab (head scarf); the others were dressed in jeans like all the Jewish students - indeed, there was no way to tell them apart by dress or accent or behavior or physical characteristics; some even had names that gave no clue about their ethnic identity. In an attempt to connect/respect these kids, the teacher brought in a photocopied page from the Quran containing the story of the command to Abraham to sacrifice his son (who is not specified by name in the Quran), but no comparative discussion really developed. The kids did not seem to be particularly knowledgeable about or interested in their own tradition, and were, apparently, mostly concerned with learning what they need to know about the Bible for their matriculation exams.

Israel is of course a Jewish state, but that doesn't mean that all Israelis are Jews. The Circassians are an interesting case study because they don't share the identity - or the various dilemmas - that characterize the situation of the Arab citizens of the state. In a way their situation parallels that of Jews in western democracies - their challenge is purely ethnic and religious, not national or nationalistic: the struggle to keep their identity alive while being integrated into majority culture. It will be interesting to see what these Israeli Moslems' lives and identities will be like a generation from now...

Galilee Diary: Free Will

2009-11-10T18:34:52Z

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

Proclaim: "This is the truth from your Lord," then whoever wills let him believe, and whoever wills let him disbelieve.
-Quran 18:29

All is foreseen - and freedom is granted...
-Mishnah, Avot 3:15

A few years ago our foundation facilitated, for the Interreligious Coordinating Council of Israel, a course on Judaism for local village imams (Moslem religious leaders). The group of about a dozen imams met monthly with various rabbis, and were a congenial and curious group. A question that was asked more than once was, "How come this is one-way? Where are the Jews who are curious about Islam?" We decided to find out the answer, and invited, a couple of times over the past year, a local imam to speak on Islam, publicizing the event through our usual local channels of advertising. The attendance both times was about 15 people. Unfortunately, the speakers were not really successful at conveying a coherent and intellectually satisfying account of Islamic customs or beliefs, in Hebrew, and the audience went home frustrated. The training that these clergy receive in Islamic seminaries does not include much in the way of pedagogy or critical inquiry - or comparative religion. Meanwhile, a friend referred me to an imam from a village a little farther away, near Nazareth, whom he recommended for such settings. I called Khaled Abu Ras and we arranged to meet at his home, and he turned out to be a charming and articulate 30-something doctoral candidate in religious thought at Bar Ilan University, a teacher in his local high school, and a Sufi (devotee of Islamic "Kabalah"). We talked for a long time - and looked at all the photos of him and his wife on their recent pilgrimage to Mecca, and I invited him to speak.

]]> We did our usual publicity, giving emphasis to Khaled's academic credentials and Sufi affiliation; we decided to go with a topic we thought would be attractive to a serious audience (the concept of free will in Islam). Khaled sent us a page of text excerpts, and we ran off 15 copies and bought a cake. For reasons we still don't understand, over 60 people showed up, and enjoyed a fascinating evening. The audience was a real cross section - Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, secular, left and right; even a few rabbis - and some from as far as 45 minutes away. The speaker was indeed charismatic and serious, open to all questions, full of illustrative stories. And when he chanted the passages from the Kuran before we read them in translation, he held the crowd spellbound, adding a cultural component to the intellectual content. We learned that the view of Islam on free will is more complicated than the stereotype most of us carry around - indeed, it shares the ambivalence we find in Jewish sources, as both religions realize that there is a tension between the belief that God is all-knowing and the belief that we have total freedom of will - for if God knows what we are going to do, then are we really free to choose? There were plenty of questions, and when the time finally ran out, there was clear consensus that this would be the first of a series. When the speaker ended with a short prayer for peace, somehow it seemed more convincing than the platitudes that are usually delivered on such occasions.

On the one hand, it has always surprised and disappointed me to be reminded of how ignorant Jews and Arabs are about each other's religion and culture beyond superficial knowledge - which often turns out to consist of distorted stereotypes. After so many decades of living in the same small country, you might expect a little more mutual knowledge to have rubbed off. On the other hand, it was encouraging to learn, from this evening, that the glass is also half full, that there is mutual curiosity and good will, and even, if you look, someone to talk to.

Greetings from His Majesty King Abdullah II

2009-11-08T15:54:43Z

Aron Hirt-Manheimer is Editor of Reform Judaism magazine

In the aftermath of the Fort Hood mass murders, King Abdullah II's hopeful message to the General Assembly was very reassuring.

Talking to us from Amman, Jordan and seated next to a portrait of his late father, King Hussein, the monarch made two key points. First, that the end game -- a Palestinian state alongside a secure Israel -- is possible and necessary because the Middle East conflict is a flashpoint of international tensions. Second, that, at their core, Judaism and Islam have much in common, and that one of the paths to peace is robust interfaith dialogue. He praised URJ President Rabbi Eric Yoffie's leadership in this endeavor.

I sometimes doubt that the Palestinian-Israeli conflict will be settled in my life time. But I am not yet at the point of despair, because I know that there are Muslim leaders who are willing to risk their lives for the cause of peace. King Abdullah and his father before him certainly fall in this catagory, as does Azhar Azeez, who spoke at the Biennial in the session on Muslim-Jewish Dialogue. I saw in Azhar Azeez, a founder of the Islamic Society of North America, a true ally in the battle for peaceful coexistence among Jews and Muslims.

Whenever I feel my hope slipping, I will focus on our Muslim allies, like Abdullah and Azhar, and blot out the words and actions of those who use religion to spread hatred.

Resolutions Coast Through General Assembly (eh?)

2009-11-06T19:51:37Z

Aron Hirt-Manheimer is the Editor of Reform Judaism magazine

Shocking! All four resolutions passed without a soul grabbing the con microphone. I heard not even a whisper of opposition from among the 3000 delegates who voted on climate change and energy, the treatment of Israeli Arab citizens, special needs camping, and Reform day schools. What happened? This is in defiance of the Jewish maxim -- two Jews, three opinions! Well, there are two reasons, actually.

The first, as explained by the chair of the resolutions committee, Jennifer Kaufman, is that for the first time in Biennial history congregations received the resolutions sixty days in advance allowing for revisions in advance of the convention. So what comes before the delegates has few wrinkles and does not require an army of editors fighting over the placement of commas.

]]> The second reason for the overwhelming passage of these resolutions is that they are totally in line with Reform Judaism's highest ideals. Social justice applies to the amendment on climate change, because the most vulnerable to environmental degradation are the poor -- many African nations, for example, are already experienceing impacts in the form of doughts and natural disasters. The resolution on Israeli Arab citizens, one-fifth of the Israeli population, is also about social justice. It calls on the Israeli government to address inequality among its Jewish and Arab citizens in accordance with it Declaration of Independence. As for the day school resolution, honoring the 18th anniversary of PARDeS, what could be more Jewish than fostering the study of Torah?

So on this morning, Reform Jews breathed the rarified air of consensus, and instead of spending hours revising resolutions, they were treated to a rousing speech by Canada's most famous human rights activist, MP Irwin Cotler, who received a Eisendrath "Bearer of Light" award, for his human rights activism around the world. Cotler's reflections of the prophetic Jewish values he imbibed from his parents were in perfect harmony with the resolutions passed by the general assembly moments earlier. One thing he said will remain with me, a teaching of Maimonides. It goes like this: The world is composed of good and evil in exactly equal measure. But one good deed by any of us can shift the balance and trigger a cosmic change. So do a good deed today. You have the power to save the world.

See the full list of resolutions at urj.org/resolutions