What now?

With the marking of Sheloshim for the victims in Pittsburgh and the passage of time, an important question is now being raised, where do we go from here?  Or more simply put, What Now? 

In the aftermath of tragedy, it is important to rebuild and move forward.  In response to a natural disaster, the need to rebuild is clear.  Houses, infrastructure, all of the things physicallydamaged or destroyed need to be put back into place, often rebuilt from scratch.  But with a disaster of this nature, the rebuilding is not so clearly defined.  What is the enduring message we want our rebuilding to carry?  

How do we honor the legacy of those taken from us, the outpouring of support from the greater community, the lastingJewish values that have kept our people and our tradition and will continue to do so?  Other difficult but important questions to consider include these:  Anti-violence training prompted someone to ask how can she run to safety, when saving herself means she leaves behind the more vulnerable?  Another question, how do we practice hospitality and welcome people into our Jewish homes (synagogues), when the front door is locked or attended by an armed guard?  How can we feel safe when anti-Semitic incidents are not only on the rise, but  finding new levels of public acceptance?

There is an urge to rebuild the physical structures quickly, to return to normal and stand up to the hatred with defiance.   But there was an important lesson learned from rebuilding lower Manhattan post 9/11.  The deliberate but protracted process achieved amazing results.  What was no longer is and recreating something from before does not acknowledge the event that has irrevocably changed us.  The memorials honor the event and the human tragedy as well as the spirit of courage, hope and love.  So too, the Shanksville memorial that I visited on my return from Pittsburgh is a moving and thoughtful tribute to the brave men and women on that fateful flight, United #93.  It is prudent to resist the temptation to act too quickly, opting instead for aslower and deliberative process.  The result will hopefully become an enduring symbol of strength, courage, hope and love, the best aspirations of our tradition.  

The process of recovery will take time.  It is a natural desire to try to shorten, if not deny, the grieving process.  But our tradition clearly understands the importance of this special time.  We grieve and then slowly begin the process of reintegrating ourselves into life with the experience and pain of loss a new part of us.  Only then might we gain a new perspective.  And from this perspective, we can create something honoring those we have lost and promoting our values for the sake of the generations to come.

Living a Meaningful Life, we begin Elul with Parsha Re’eh

In the Torah, Moses sets out a choice for us this past week.  Blessings and curses.  It is a deceptively easy binary choice.  Given good stuff or bad stuff as alternatives, it seems like a no-brainer.  I opt for the good stuff!

But it’s really not so simple.  For what does that mean for us to choose the Blessings,  especially to us in the modern world?  That is the fundamental question to consider in the month of Elul, leading up to the Yamim Noraim, these special High Holidays.  Perhaps we, like our ancestors, are metaphorically also on the verge of entering into our own Promised Land. It is more complicated than: Choose Blessings and you go in; Choose Curses and you stay out.  Because it is about more than entering The Land; it is about living fully while there, possessing it and becoming one with it.

During Elul, as we prepare for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we ponder the choices we make in our lives.  As we reflect on the year past, we see successes and failures. And as we look ahead, we use this understanding to chart our course.   Are we on the path we want to be on, the one we should be on, the one we need to be on?  And presuming we have been blown off course by the winds and currents of life, how do we right our ship and get back on our path?

Elul is our time to consider these questions.  Before we can ask for forgiveness we need to know where we went astray and maybe understand why.  Before we can ask to be written in the book of life, we need to know what it means to choose a life of blessings so that this coming year brings us meaning and connection.  Then we are able to approach the Divine to make things right and set a course forward for a year where we deliberately choose blessings, knowing what they are and how we might pursue them.

L’Shanah Tova!

Passover and Legacy

As we share Passover at the Seder table this year, notice that it is in the process of change.  We are instructed to remember the Exodus experience and to consider as though we experience it ourselves as we participate in the reenactment.  But this tradition evolves; with each generation, we fashion the Seder into something that is uniquely ours.

I recall the Seders of two generations ago, the seemingly endless table that ran from room to room of the small apartment in the Bronx or the small home in Queens.  These are wonderful memories from long ago and much of those traditions continue on.  But our current Seder will be different from those of my past.  For example, an Orange and Olives will find themselves on our current Seder Plate and Miriam’s cup will be prominently placed alongside Elijah’s. Instead of asking the four questions, I will lead (to the extent my boisterous family will permit).  We will read from a Hagaddah fashioned by my niece with interpretations and questions that resonate with her generation.  For they are the future.

The Seder will continue to progress as the next generation of our family steps into the role of leadership and we slowly cede our positions leadership and authority, hopefully becoming Elders with positions of respect and wisdom.  This is the natural progression of things.  For each of us must embrace our understanding of the Jewish experience not only as a communal experience but as something uniquely our own.  This was the tradition will be a meaningful part of our identity combining ritual with relevance.

At the Seder table, we can each look to either side (figuratively or literally), seeing our parents and what they have bequeathed to us and seeing our children as they fashion and shape Judaism as their own.  This is the blessing of our legacy; family and historic community forming an unbroken chain linking us all together.

Wishing everyone a Joyful Pesach.  Chag Pesach Sameach! and Shabbat Shalom

Do we Deserve our Kids?

Our tradition speaks at great lengths about filial obligations, the responsibilities of children to honor and revere their parents. Likewise, much is written about our obligations as parents to raise children properly, to teach them, and to prepare them for the world. But do we teach them Torah when we do not live it our selves? We do not teach them to build a better world but instead how to selfishly survive in it.

We offer them a world based on material gain, our nation withdrawing from its predominant place in the world, communal strife, a political system challenging the legitimacy of its fundamental institutions, and an economy that will burden them with almost intolerable crushing debt. We have not built a better world for them. And yet, these young people have galvanized in the wake of the Parkland horror. And that gives me hope. For even though we have not done right by them, they seek changes that will benefit us all.

Do we deserve our kids? That remains an open question until we begin to act as though they truly are the most prized things in our lives. We can start by supporting them in their efforts to address gun violence, this grievous wrong in our society that has murdered so many of them. Support them as they raise their voices, join them as they march in March. Help make the world they inherit better than what we have now.

 

 

 

 

 

Jerusalem still weeps this Shabbat

As the President of the United States declared Jerusalem the capital of Israel, the various players had expected reactions. Many in Israel cheered, Arab Nations jeered, but really nothing has changed. The President officially recognized the de facto situation; Jerusalem is the capital of Israel. However, peace had not been advancing between parties and it seems unlikely this declaration does anything to move it forward. The two sides remain filled with mistrust of the other and neither is willing to budge from their respective recalcitrant positions. The status quo remains. Jerusalem, the City of Peace, sadly is not at peace.

We welcome Shabbat singing Lecha Dodi. In this mystical song-poem, Jerusalem is anthropomorphized; we prayerfully exhort that she shakes off the dust and embarrassment of a world that has forsaken what she represents to Jews and to humanity. I sing those verses with an ambivalent heavy heart every Friday night, struggling with why peace has not yet come to the place where God dwelled.

Jerusalem remains a city divided and in a state of unrest. Sadly, she is unable to bring unity to her people Israel, or to brothers and sisters who also share a vision of belonging. She is mine, but she belongs to others too. Jerusalem, The City of Peace still remains an elusive dream. An outside declaration or moving an embassy changes nothing. Only the will of those who truly seek her can realize the dream that Jerusalem is a holy center for humankind and the aspiration of peace on earth.

Shabbat Shalom.

Shine into the Darkness, The Message we mean to send

“ I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant”                              ― Alan Greenspan

Last week I went to the White House to meet with the Special Assistant to the President with the JCRC and Women’s Philanthropy Division of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia. Respectfully but rather forcefully we advocated for our concerns over the issues of DACA, Gun Violence, BDS, Anti-Semitism, and SNAP. I know we did not change the administration’s opinion, but we gave voice inside the halls of power to our values. Sometimes we do not do speak constructively and what we think we are saying is not the message heard. There is an important example of this making its way around social media.

An anonymous rabbi is attributed as responding to a White House request for a Menorah with a rebuff saying that the current administration is antithetical to everything the holiday and menorah represent, so their menorah is not available.

I believe this message does not take the moral high ground, and instead sounds preachy and filled with a self-righteous arrogance that makes dialogue impossible. The story resonates only for those who already believe it.   But for everyone else, the message is negative, generating pushback and defiance, not a moment of teaching and potential rapprochement.

Those of us who believe that the current administration undermines important Jewish values need to speak truth to power but to do so respectful of the institution and with the hope of carrying the message to not merely protest, but to hopefully persuade.

We are obligated to reach out to those with whom we disagree. Through building relationships and dialogue we might give insights and change viewpoints. We also are empowered to champion our causes publicly and we vote. These are sacred and important parts of what makes this an extraordinary country.

The only way our light will illuminate is if we cast it into the dark.

 

 

 

 

A special message for Shabbat: Remembering Kristallnacht and Veteran’s Day

This weekend is an extraordinary confluence of memories and events that I pray leads to our rededication to the values we cherish as a nation and as Jews. Kristallnacht and Veteran’s Day are times of extraordinary solemn remembrance. The lessons we learn from these can shape our commitment to the world we seek to achieve.

 

November 9 marks the anniversary of Kristallnacht, Nazi Germany’s great pogrom and genocide against the Jewish people. The oppression and persecution of the Jews of Europe entered a new and deadlier phase bringing the long-simmering anger and aggression out into the open as Goebbels encouraged mass arrests, violence against Jews and any visible signs of Jewishness, including synagogues, stores, and our sacred texts.

 

WW1 veteran Joseph Ambrose, at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. He holds the flag that covered the casket of his son, who was killed in the Korean War.

November 11 marks Veteran’s Day, the time we honor those who have bravely fought to preserve, protect, and defend our country and the values we represent. Eventually, these men and women fought against the Nazi’s tyrannical regime built on hate but sadly too late to rescue the 6 million Jews slaughtered.

 

And yesterday, November 9, I was proud to accompany the Women’s Philanthropy Division of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia on a trip to Washington, DC to advocate both in Congress and the White House for DACA, Responsible Gun Legislation, Food Insecurity and the SNAP program, and against BDS and Anti-Semitism. We championed our values and spoke truth to power with persuasive force and civility.

The struggle to realize a better kinder nation and world continues. Yasher Koach and most profound gratitude to all of those who join the fight.

Shabbat Shalom.

Miracles can happen when you don’t forget about me

For something truly extraordinary to happen, we must include the people already inside the tent.

In Vayeira I see an important message about inclusivity, but it’s not what you think. Everyone looks at Abraham’s hospitality, running to the three men and offering rest, food and drink, and honor. But it is only when Sara comes from the tent that the great miracle of prophecy occurs. This is a most important message for us in these changing times.

We properly reach out to people outside our tent in an effort to practice inclusivity and outreach. But as we reach out we must also reach within to make sure that those already within the tent feel equally honored and valued.

People regularly leave the synagogue community because they no longer find anything there for them. Parents leave once the child has been “Bar-Mitzvahed” and Boomers leave because they do not see value in belonging. But helping to develop a child’s value system and sense of community has only just begun with Bar-Mitzvah, and finding support in a caring community is never more important than when we confront the challenges of middle age and beyond. Our synagogues are as important as ever, but destined to struggle with membership (and finances) if we do not find ways to communicate a value proposition that resonates for those already in the tent. Those front doors we want to fling open to welcome newcomers are also open to those looking to leave. We need to help them understand why they would want to stay.

Sara prepared the cakes to serve the messengers and standing at the tent’s opening, she scoffed with incredulity at the vision the men proclaimed. Our congregants too find the future difficult to accept, but it is our sacred task to give them a vision of an extended family and the caring community they are unable to imagine for themselves. As we seek to evolve and broaden our reach, we must always remember to continuously nurture those who have already aligned with us so they continue to embrace our important values and keep our tent full.

Conversations for Life and Legacy

I am excited to announce the launch of Conversations for Life and Legacy™.

Conversations for Life and Legacy™ is a whole new approach to sharing our wisdom, making meaning in our lives, and connecting beyond ourselves drawing upon the insights of Jewish tradition and text.

Conversations for Life and Legacy™ goes far beyond an Ethical Will to share our sacred stories in unique new ways. Among the particular innovations are using a rabbi trained in chaplaincy to guide the interview and capturing it all on video.

Please look at our new website: www.ConversationsForLifeAndLegacy.com to explore this new approach; see what it can mean to you and how it can be brought to your community.

Today we also launch a Facebook page: ConversationsForLifeAndLegacy and we will be on Twitter as well @rabbidavidlevincll.

It’s time to have the Conversations of your Life!

Conversations for Life and Legacy™

www.ConversationsForLifeAndLegacy.com

 

How do you serve two masters-the interfaith marriage debate

How do you serve two masters?

We are called upon to do this regularly including in the current discussion about the marriage of a Jew to a non-Jew. As Rabbis, we serve Jews and we serve Judaism. These often do not align. How these two competing missions live in tension and how we resolve the issues is something our wisdom tradition teaches us.

We serve Jews. As I have been taught, my service to them requires me to go where they are to help them along their paths, using the wisdom of our tradition to connect and shine light upon the journey. I am also in service to Judaism, charged with Shamor v’Zachor in all of its complexity. These often align with each other, but often they do not. We live in a complicated world where we usually do not choose between good and evil (that’s an easy one of course) but we choose between competing good things. Which one takes primacy? Must they be mutually exclusive, or can they co-exist? Our great tradition including Talmud urges us to grapple with these questions.

We all know minority opinions are kept because they add value, depth, and nuance to the conversation. We have seen Hillel and Shammai duel. Even though Hillel usually prevails, Shammai remains as insight into important issues that cannot be overlooked. It is incorrect to dismiss Shammai as wrong.

We all recall the story of Teaching Torah on one foot. Two radically different approaches are offered, both containing deep wisdom. Ultimately we are left with, “What is hateful to you do not do to another, the rest is all commentary. Now go study,” but not before we understand the gravitas and respect that one must have to approach the process.

The conversation about officiating weddings between Jews and Non-Jews should be viewed through this lens. Is our primary allegiance to preserving and protecting Judaism, or to reaching out to Jews wherever they may be? What precisely does each of these things look like? Where we ultimately define ourselves and cast our allegiance will determine what each of us can do and what is beyond our ability. I have no doubt about the seriousness that each of us approaches this task. And I am not criticizing the considered decision of anyone.   However, there are real ramifications to our decisions. How we are perceived in our respective communities and how will our decisions affect the couple requesting our services as officiant are two profoundly important questions we must ask ourselves as we consider the issue.

There is a substantial segment of Jews who seek to marry someone who is not Jewish. How we approach them may forever affect them and their relationship to Judaism. When someone approaches us, what will we do? If we cannot officiate based on a principled position, do we dismiss them, or find a colleague who can be present in this important and critical time? Will you be Hillel or Shammai?