Category: Am Yisrael

It’s Time to Free Jonathan Pollard

For a long time, I resisted calls to free Jonathan Pollard.  He was convicted of treason, spying against the United States of America.  Although his punishment was more severe and although he spied on behalf of the State of Israel, an ally of the United States, his sentence seemed acceptable to me. He was a convicted spy serving a life sentence for betraying his country-that was okay in my book.

However, it is clear from the latest round of Middle East negotiations that Jonathan Pollard became little more than a political pawn, to be played in order to achieve a settlement.  If our own government admits that Pollard’s punishment can be overlooked to achieve a political end, then the reason for his original punishment seems to have run its course, and he has paid the price.  I do not believe a pardon is in order but it seems reasonable that we permit the time served be sufficient punishment for his treasonous acts.

 Notwithstanding the collapse of the complicated formula that included his release to bring an agreement to the Middle East peace talks, Pollard appears to be merely taking up space in a prison as far as the US Government is concerned.  So therefore, it seems appropriate to release and deport him to Israel.  Pollard does not matter to the United States anymore as evidenced by our willingness to release him. Dangling Pollard in front of those who might believe he matters, only serves to distract the two directly affected parties from the important and hard decisions they need to make.   So let us now take the only reasonable course of action, release Jonathan Pollard now.

Big is the new Small

As we re-imagine the synagogue’s place in American Jewish life new ideas and old ideas meld together to create interesting opportunities.  The synagogue remains an important hub of Jewish community.  However, relationships have moved to the forefront in our understanding as a way of creating communities that reach out to those on the outside and nurture those already within its arms.  The implications of a relationship model affect all aspects of synagogue life including the size of the synagogue.

 Traditional wisdom indicates that smaller tends to be better.  A lesser number makes it easier for people, including the rabbi to know one another and hopefully foster deeper relationships within the group.  Smaller is therefore also consistent with our increased emphasis on individuality. Today it is preferable to find a smaller group that shares our beliefs, rather than subsuming our own ideas to the larger and more expansive congregation of times past. When money flowed more freely and joining the synagogue was part of the natural order of things, new congregations were formed, new buildings were built, congregations grew and life was good.

In many ways, life remains good, but the traditional synagogue model is now being challenged.  The drive towards individuality is stronger than ever but the need for community continues. People however, are not flocking to join in the numbers they once did.   This challenge is in fact an opportunity for a new synagogue model to emerge where the ideas of small and large can join synergistically; We can create a large synagogue, which itself is an amalgam of smaller congregations or communities.  Many successful synagogues already practice this concept.  In each traditional area of synagogue life, multiple opportunities or access points exist both within and outside the “synagogue walls.” But the synagogue walls have been expanded to hold many ideas and defray the expenses associated with running an operation.

Traditional services are held parallel to alternative services.  Opportunities to congregate and to learn can be expanded.  Teachers can focus on the things they know well while the larger number of teacher increases the scope of offerings.  There is also the added benefit of programs, including the teaching, being more easily accessible to a broader community. People in this environment are exposed to things they might not have previously considered. Schools likewise can be combined reaping the benefits of size.  The community develops a richness and vibrancy because of the depth and breadth of opportunities to engage Jewishly that historically was limited to only the largest or most well heeled congregations.   This is being done with success around the country.  So if it is already done, what else is there to do?

 The challenge is for existing congregations to see this as an opportunity to remain vibrant rather than as a threat to their existence. Smaller congregations struggle to meet the budget and support the overhead.  Maintaining a physical structure becomes a monumental challenge in its own right, often leaving little time for much else.  The congregational leaders become so busy with the operations of the place they have little time left to build the sacred relationships within its walls.  Joining together creates efficiencies of size in addition to diversity of programming available to a larger community.  A larger physical structure yields space for multiple groups to share.  But there are also the opportunities that arise when the smaller groups join together.

The large synagogue creates a critical mass, a Klal Yisrael.  Such unity within a community becomes a cohesive power, while the individual voice and intimate relationships are preserved and honored. There will be times when everyone will want to gather together.  Then the temporary walls that might separate the smaller sanctuary spaces can be opened up, literally and figuratively speaking, creating a larger space in which everyone can join.

There are distinct and real challenges to putting such a synagogue model in place, but the opportunity to create communities of meaning that thrive is too great to overlook, and the existing pressure many congregations feel cannot be ignored.  Besides, in many places it seems to work.

College Students and Esther – What Purim might teach us about power and our future

Tonight we start the holiday of Purim where we read Megillat Esther, the Book of Esther.  Purim is a Jewish story.  And like so many Jewish Stories, it has multiple levels of meaning.

 Purim is a lovely children’s story- good triumphs over evil, a savior rescues us from the clutches of despair.  Righteous deeds are rewarded and the people rejoice and live happily ever after.

 Purim is also a great adult story, the story of sex, power and palace intrigue.  As gripping as any modern drama on cable; forces vie for control, often ruthless in tactics.  The heroine uses all her skills and wiles to rescue her people. Shonda Rhimes has at least a full season of Scandal right here in our Megillah!

 Purim is also a story with a deeper and darker side, which I believe is the reason why the Book of Esther is included in the Bible; it is a cautionary tale.  Purim admonishes us about the use and abuse of power.

How power can work and how it can corrupt.

What happens when power is not challenged and what happens when it seduces.  What might happen when we move from being drunk with complacency, to being drunk with power.  Megillat Esther portrays when the powerless are subjected to the whims of the powerful- those who are consumed with only their own power driven by the sense of self importance that comes from it.

 Haman plans to destroy the Jews because Mordechai does not bow before him.  Mordechai and Esther work together, conspiring if you will, to overthrow Haman’s power and gain power for themselves.  To achieve these ends they use nothing less than seduction and lies to lure Haman into a trap and inflame the wrath of King Achasverus.    The book of Esther demands us to question, “to what lengths are we willing to go to acheive power?”

 But then Megillat Esther continues to push us and asks,“What do we do with power once it has been acheived?”

 In a kind of  “Perverse Dayenu” we learn that it is not enough that the Jews triumph- Esther is the Queen and Mordechai becomes the King’s Vizier.  Nor is it enough that in an ironic twist of fate that Haman is executed on the very gallows he built to hang Mordechai.  The Jews then demand the execution of all of Haman’s sons and then 50 and then yet another 750 people in Sushan.  But it is still not over; for then there is a wholesale slaughter of 75,000 Persians in retribution.  This is a place where the phrase “Absolute Power corrupts Absolutely” could surely have been coined.   (Lord Acton 1887)

 We go from powerless, to powerful; from innocent to corrupt; from holding the moral high ground to losing all moral authority giving way to the basest of human emotion.

 So how this story resonate for us today?

 We are taught that with power comes responsibility.  That responsibility includes protecting those who are less fortunate and powerless, protecting our system of free expression, and protecting our ability to remain a full and vibrant part of this nation we call home. We have come a long way to achieve our comfortable public place in American society. But like our Purim story it was not always so.

 Esther concealed her identity from the king until Mordechai gave her the strength to step forward.  But what if she did not have the strength?  Who would have spoken for the Jews of Persia?  Mordechai says that if it was not Esther, someone else would step forward, but in the story we know only two, Queen Esther and her Uncle Mordechai.

Our tradition suggests Mordechai placed his hope in a higher power, but he knew his life was actually in Esther’s hands.  And likewise, the future of our next generations is in our hands.

 But ominous signs are on the horizon.  What if we became unable to advocate for ourselves?  It is not as outlandish as it may sound.  Many of you can recall the deafening silence of the American Jewish community in the 1930s and 40s. With only a few exceptions such as Rabbi Stephen Wise, our American community retreated into its fear as the Nazi’s systematically executed the Holocaust.  Today we can hardly imagine such gripping fear.  But this fear is alive as is the hatred.  It lives on our college campuses around the country and the implications are foreboding.

 We have just finished the national Israel Apartheid week.  This is a week of consciousness-raising held on campuses around the country protesting that Israel is no more than an apartheid state dedicated to the oppression of the Palestinians.  The attempt to De-legitimize the State of Israel also finds a voice in the growing organized economic boycott of Israel known as Boycott Divest Sanction or BDS.  This group was responsible for the commotion surrounding the Soda Stream company’s factory in the West Bank.  Students for Justice in Palestine (the SJP) is vehemently anti-Israel and actively protests against the State and its legitimacy on campuses across the country.  Not to be outdone, the academic community has, in real terms, taken up the Anti-Israel cause of the Palestinians by supporting the boycott of Israeli scholars through the American Studies Association, the ASA.

 The groups on campus have used thuggish tactics to bully and intimidate our college students. And as their teachers align with these politics, the classroom becomes a very uncomfortable, threatening place, instead of a place that is supposed to nurture.  The effect on our youth is profound.

 Many kids become turtles.  They withdraw into their shells and hope that it will all blow over.  Many of our kids find themselves fearful.  Unable to express an alternative point of view, students on campus are ostracized.  They are alienated from their Judaism and any relationship they may have to Israel. These young people are scared to think for themselves or express their opinions. And if they are courageous enough to try, they are subjected to public ridicule and humiliation.    If we do not work to support our youth, then we risk raising a whole generation of Jews, our future, unable to withstand the onslaught of hate and bigotry.  We will have completely ceded our power to those who would oppress us.

 So we must heed the lessons of Megillat Esther and embrace our power with respect.  We need to reach out to our youth by giving them a solid understanding of their Jewish identity and Jewish values before they leave for school and begin to explore the world.  But we must also support them in these college years of discovery by continuing to be present.  We can do this by supporting vibrant Hillels on campus, and as Congregations by remaining in contact with them while they are away and by making them feel warmly welcomed back into our temples when they return.  Finally, but so importantly, we must place a Reform Rabbi on every college campus with a significant Jewish population to nurture and care for our children.

The future is theirs, but the power to make that future bright lies with us and what we do now.

Hannukah, Maccabees, Soviet Jewry, Freedom. We remember.

On the eve of Hanukkah thoughts turn to the meaning we glean from the ritual and what we remember, particularly the cause of freedom and what is necessary to achieve it.  As we recall the Maccabees, I think of the words of acclaimed anthropologist Margaret Meade who once said, “Never Doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.”

Many of us remember to that momentous time on December 6, 1987 when a quarter of a million people came together on the National Mall to protest during Premier Mikhael Gorbachev’s visit to Washington demanding that he “let my people go,” and grant the right of Soviet Jews to emigrate to Israel.  But before 250,000 people could gather and speak with one voice, people needed to galvanize them.  In fact it was on May 1, 1964, outside the Russian Legation to the United Nations in Manhattan, that the first mass public rally to support Soviet Jewry was held.  This was the original committed core that started the process, and as they say, the rest is history.  Those Soviet Jews that wanted to were eventually granted the right to make aliyah and go to live as Jews in the Land of Israel.

We celebrate those brave souls who risked their personal safety to stand for the ideal of freedom that is embodied in Judaism.  We rightfully pay tribute to those who stood up and spoke to power there knowing free speech did not exist in that place, that such speech came at a great price.   Those of us here in the United States were encouraged and energized by their voices and we joined ours to theirs.  The cry for freedom grew louder and louder until it could no longer be ignored.  The doors opened and the great exodus of the twentieth century began; the Jews of the Soviet Union came home.

We saw the power of the word defeat the mighty.  We can and should celebrate this modern miracle.  But the past is only prologue.  For not all the Jews left.  What of those that remained behind?  They could have been forgotten as our attention focused on the new Olim and we reveled in our accomplishment.  But that small committed group continues to make its voice heard and the Jews of the Former Soviet Union have also entered into a new era.

The Jews of the FSU are actively reconnecting with their Judaism that others had tried to take away two generations ago.  With the help of outside groups such as the JDC there is a Jewish revival happening.  It is not the whispers of Jews practicing their faith behind closed doors, but Jews being and doing Jewish in the open.  To visit major urban centers in the FSU, Synagogues that had been shuttered or once repurposed as things like warehouses are now open for business as places of worship.  We saw with amazement not only synagogues but also day schools  and Jewish Community Centers.    And even more remarkable, not only Chabad is there, but so are other streams of Judaism. An organic Judaism is taking hold as Jews rediscover and reconnect to their past, themselves, and their future.

The work is far from over.  Rabbi Tarfon tells us in Pirkei Avot that “You are not duty bound to finish  the work, but neither can you desist from it.”  Judaism’s rise in the FSU, from near extinction to flourishing, is nascent.  It remains our sacred obligation to use our power and influence to nurture Jews around the world seeking to connect with our sacred wisdom.  We are there to open the doors and welcome our brothers and sisters to join Klal Yisrael.  Our true tribute to those who have done so much for the cause of freedom is to continue the work that they started and help the next generation of Jews.

I will not let you go until you have blessed me.

In the dark solitude of night Jacob wrestles with an unidentified man until dawn, but would not let him go, even after he appears to vanquish his opponent. Although the text says it was a man, the figure is mysterious and might have been an angel of God or possibly a demon from Jacob’s psyche.

 This remarkable story speaks to how we might make something good come from the troublesome or even the tragic event; for Jacob would not let go until he received a blessing.  Instead of fleeing, as Jacob has in the past, Jacob only grapples with it. Acknowledging this event is now a part of him, Jacob holds on.  Jacob emerges from the scuffle physically injured, forever changed. But he still insists that something good comes of the encounter a blessing.

 So many of us confront tragedy in our lives.  And despite the pain and the suffering tragedy causes, people often turn it in order to make something good as a result.  For example, the founders of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, MADD, were able to take the unspeakable horror of losing their children and create a crusade to save the children of others. Veronique Pozner, recently named as one of the Forward 50, lost her 6-year-old son Noah in Newtown and transformed her personal tragedy and grief into a rallying cry for gun control legislation in Connecticut.

 We are forever changed as a result of the harsh tests in our lives.  For Jacob, his hip was damaged and his name changed to always reflect that the event had irrevocably altered him.  Nothing will bring the lost children back to their mothers. Noah will never return to Veronique, but she celebrates his brief life, by working to create a better world.  May we all find the strength to do so.

~Thoughts on Vayishlach

Go Forth, But not Alone

Lech Lecha

I had the privilege of officiating at the funeral and first evening Shiva Minyan of a lovely man.  It came time to share a D’var Torah during the Minyan and I spoke to Lech Lecha, our Parashah and God’s command to Abraham to “Go Forth- to a land that I will show you.”  The Hebrew is in the singular, in other words God is speaking directly to Abraham, instructing him what to do.  As we learn in the story, Abraham does indeed venture out from his father’s house and into history, becoming our Patriarch, a father to those as numerous as the stars.   Abraham did need to respond to God’s challenge, but he was not alone.

Sarah was Abraham’s wife and partner.  Although God does tell Abraham to “Go forth,” Sarah stood by his side throughout the process.  The two of them acted together.  And there is significance in that.  As I ruminated over the circumstances in which my D’var Torah would be shared, I wondered if in fact the beautiful story of my friend, as related to me by his widow, was a representation of what Abraham and Sarah experienced.  It takes an extraordinary person to embark on an extraordinary venture.  But would he or she have the courage to do it without the love and support of a trusted partner? Could someone reach for the stars without a companion to provide strength, someone willing to walk with you by your side?  And even if a person were capable of achieving “greatness” without any one else’s support, could such a person be the progenitor of a people?

I believe the answer is no.  And herein lies a teaching of our Torah portion.  We cannot achieve true greatness without the support of others.  One can achieve, but without others to share and give strength, the venture is selfish.  Lech Lecha, you must do it but you cannot do it alone.

Remembering- Mom and Jean Nate

Our Jewish calendar provides us with time to remember those we have loved.  On their Yarzheits, or anniversary of passing, our thoughts turn to our mothers or fathers, our sisters or brothers, our husbands or wives, and for some of us, our children.

We struggle to remember, their presence remains powerful, but sometimes we struggle conjuring up memories that seem to fade a bit more in our everyday.  Often, people who were seemingly ever-present in our past become wistful moments in our present. A smile comes to our face and a tear to our eyes.  We are warmed by their reappearance, but our memories can fade if we do not try to remember specific things that link their presence to us.

As a small boy, it was hard for me to buy presents for either Mother’s day or Father’s day.  Many of us remember the days before the Internet, this extraordinary “point, click and automatic delivery to the door” of today’s reality.  Back then, Mr. Dykstra would let me call him and he would deliver flowers to the house and I would be there waiting with the money I had saved clutched safely in my hand, nervously counting and re-counting to make sure I really did have enough.

Sometimes many times, I could go with my mom shopping.  And there in the Drug Store, I found my “go to” gifts for both mom and dad.  Jean Nate Body Splash for mom and Pierre Cardin aftershave for dad.  Mom and dad always smelled good- distinctively like my mom and dad with the citrus scent that was at the heart of the respective fragrances.

Mom said she liked Jean Nate.  I remember the bottle- frosted glass with a round black cap containing the yellow colored “Friction pour le bain” as the bottle said.  I never knew what “Friction pour le bain” meant,  “Friction” seemed a strange word, but it was all appropriately exotic enough, being in French, even though I pronounced it JEAN like my mom’s first name.

Dad similarly always smelled like that sharp lemony odor contained in the modern glass bottle with shiny silver half circle cap, which reminded me of an old-fashioned keyhole on a lock.   I remember when I tried some of it, pouring some into my hand and they splashing or slapping it against my cheeks and neck.  It seemed to kind of sting and yet be cool at the same time.  But that was dad’s smell.

I do not know what it says about one’s fashion sense when you let your small child select your fragrance.  But it certainly says that the love you have for your child is infinitely more important.  Those smells still linger and are powerful memories that come rushing forth from the recesses of my mind.  And suddenly there is my mom as I remembered her with long dark hair and soothing voice.  There is my dad- for some reason in a wide-lapelled suit coat – I don’t know how he got stuck in the 70s, but at least it was not a leisure suit! But he was dressed and on his way to his business.  I was transported back in time, to a simpler time, a beautiful and uncomplicated time.  It washes over me as though it were yesterday.

I also remember the distinct smell of my grandfather and his cigars, and the room in my grandparent’s house in which my grandmother permitted him to smoke them.  I remember my grandmother’s kitchen, the smells of her chicken soup made with dill that was uniquely hers.  I remember the fragrance of Macaroni and cheese casserole wafting through my other grandma’s apartment and my grandpa’s cheek soft and smooth, scented with his shaving soap.

The smell of the food, the fragrance of the soap or eau de toilet, the remnant of the cigar- these are the memories of those whose lives have touched us directly.  We remember them vividly in these moments because we shared moments and life together.

But now, all that we have are the memories of that time together.  These recollections are bittersweet, bringing a smile to our lips and tears to our eyes. What we might give to have them with us now.  Just a bit more time together we wish, just one more memory to hold in our heart.  Husband or wife, mother or father, sister or brother, the memories of those whose lives were so intimately intertwined with ours remain.  And even though time passes and we try our best to move forward, the loss remains profound.

As we recall our loved ones though, it is amazing to notice how their hard edges have faded, the sharp lines are blurred.  In our honest moments, we know that there were times of stress.  Tension existed, tempers could flare and egos could get in the way. Each of us could fall victim to the thing called being a human being.   But here in this place, we remember with warmth and love the good things, the uplifting things, the godly things that make these departed loved ones cherished parts of our lives.  If only it was always so.

But we have the chance to do precisely this.  Yizkor is the opportunity for us to remember those who are departed.  It is a time for reflection.  We look inside and examine ourselves, not only confronting who we are, but also, whom we wish to be.  We take this special time and carve it out from this day and reflect on those who have touched us, shaped us and nurtured us.  For we have been forever changed by their presence in our lives.

Yizkor is our chance to remember them.  Zichronom Livracha, may their lives be a blessing.  As we remember their finer qualities and the beautiful memories, their memories become an inspiration.  The best they had to offer is what we remember.  And by keeping that in our hearts and minds they move us to live in better even more special ways.

When we remember that special thing about them that brings a smile to us, we remember.  But when we do that special thing for another person, not only do we make someone else smile, but our loved one comes alive in our hearts, whether it is cooking for someone you love or accepting the sincere gifts of another with grace and gratitude rather than judgment, as my mom and dad did with their son.

May we live fulfilling those aspirations and through this, honor those we have lost and keep them alive in our hearts.