Category: Judaism

Responding to the Rejection of JStreet

Like so many others I am deeply troubled and saddened that the Council of Presidents rejected the application for membership by JStreet.  Let me reiterate the premise for inclusion:  the voices of all legitimate groups deserve a seat at the table so they may be heard in the collective that is supposed to be this council.  This is not an endorsement of any particular view but rather a respect for the right to express ideas and hopefully add to meaningful discussion within Klal Yisrael. The Council’s rejection of JStreet runs contrary to this foundational principle and I support the URJ’s position that the Council’s vote reflects that the Council “no longer serves its vital purpose of providing a collective voice for the entire American Pro-Jewish community.”

 At this juncture, we can either walk away or fight to amend the corrupt system now in place.  As tempting as the former may be, we should seriously try to change the system before throwing in the proverbial towel.  Because we believe in the need for a collective voice, we are obligated to do our best to maintain it.  So it would seem that the first course of action would be to change the already existing community to return it to the basic premise that drove creation of the Council.

 I urge all those who are disappointed by this sad turn of events to join together in an attempt to salvage the Council.  To walk away without first doing this is an admission that there is no chance for everyone to sit at the table together.  I would rather we tried and have those who won’t abide such an enlightened viewpoint opt to leave instead.  First we fight for that in which we believe.  Only if we find the fight is futile can we in good conscience walk away from the table.

Remembering- Seders past and Yizkor

Yizkor Pesach 2014

The Seder Table at my grandparent’s houses was one of those interesting affairs.  The table started in the dining room, made its way past the wall into the living room and hung a right turn into the foyer.  This was unlike my great-aunt on my father’s side, where the table started in the living room, ran through the dining room and into the kitchen, where the kids sat.  Now I realize why the two families never got along; I always thought it was because one was Galitziana and the other Litvak…

At Nanny and Grandpop’s house, my mom’s parents, the table seemed to groan under the weight of the Seder Plates and bowls of salt water and bottles of wine and the platters upon platters of food. The table was laden with a stuffed breast of veal and brisket, homemade gefilte fish and chicken soup with dill and soft matzoh balls that my father mocked because they were not hard enough.  My mom made them like rocks, which according to my father who actually loved them, could be used by the Israeli army as provisions to be eaten or if necessary as a weapon to be thrown.  I recall my hand being slapped by my grandfather as I tried to take the Afikomen a bit too early in the affair.  I eventually would get it, but only after an appropriate amount of time and tries had elapsed according to his calculations.  I recall the mixing of English and Hebrew, the raucous noise of talking, singing, laughing and of course arguing, and sharing the story from the Hagaddah. The three major denominations of Judaism were all represented and all joined together to celebrate this mix of religion and family at the festive table.

I can trace my life through my movement along that table.  I moved from the kids table, where I once chanted the “four questions,” to the main table where I chant the Kiddush, and ultimately now to sit at the head of the table to help lead the Seder.  And there I sat this year, with my wife’s family.

They have their own interesting rituals and traditions, as does each family.  But one is particularly worth noting.  At the conclusion of the Seder, my mother-in-law plugs in the cassette player with a very special recording.  They recorded her mother on one of her last Seders at the table, telling stories sharing recollections of times past and a poem.  My mother-in-law sits transfixed, the voice carries her someplace else as she listens to her mother re-tell the telling of the Exodus.  She drinks in her mother’s words and for those brief moments, Rose Mandel comes alive for her.  That is truly the high point of the Seder.  And why we need to commemorate those we loved this Yizkor.

For Yizkor is our time to remember.  It is our time to reflect back on those we loved.  This is our time to recognize how much they continue to mean to us.  Often they fade into the background.  We are so caught up in the day-to-day things that fill our time.  Kids, food, shopping, the house, the spouse and our own selves, just to name the short list.  But now is our time to remember them.  Those we loved, those who we have lost, often too soon.  Oh to have a few more moments of them.  For when we remember them, we remember the blessings they brought to our lives.  The richness that is ours because of them, the history that is uniquely our individual own because of the way they shaped and influenced our lives.  We remember to offer gratitude for their being in our lives.  We remember their best as a means to help propel us to be our best.  And therefore we remember them as we strive to create the memories for those who come after us as the legacy we leave to them in an unbroken chain of loving and caring.

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.

Discipline at what Personal Cost?

Leaders or anyone concerned with the welfare of others can find themselves confronting a challenging personal conflict.  We saw this recently play out in parsha Shimini. Here, the story of Aaron is an extraordinary narrative illustrating the real tension in trying to navigate the waters between public and personal needs.  In parsha Shimini, there was an imbalance between the two competing needs and the cost of doing one at the expense of the other was overwhelming. 

Nadav and Abihu, Aaron’s sons are killed because they brought an offering of “alien fire” before God.  But instead of grieving as any father would, Aaron is admonished not to acknowledge this tragedy in any way.  He is to attend to his sacred duties. The needs of the Kahal outweigh the personal need.  So Aaron tries to fulfill his duties as the High Priest, as Moses instructed.  Aaron is completely silent, suppressing everything related to this horrific incident.  It is only when Moses chastises Aaron’s remaining two sons for improper ritual that Aaron breaks his silence.  Aaron yells at Moses, unable to contain the emotion that has been bottled up inside.

 Moses was so disciplined, that the needs of the Kahal came before everything else including mourning the loss of the two young men, his nephews, Aaron’s sons.  Moses could only see the need to properly perform the priestly service to the Almighty on behalf of the people.  But it is not his sons that have been slain.  Aaron tried to accede to the demands of his position and do as Moses instructed.  He however was unable to maintain the discipline of Moses. But when Aaron broke down and showed his pain, Moses was moved and in an act of humanity consoles his grieving brother.

 How often are we overwhelmed when a decision has to be made?  Often life confronts us with an “either/or” choice.  We do not have the luxury of the “both/and” that we speak of in our theoretical and lofty discussions.  So often we judge others by the choices they make, when in fact, they often do not see that there was a choice at all.  I recall a profoundly difficult time when this happened to me.

 We sat in shock in the hospital waiting area immediately after my mom’s death.  My dad started to cry.  Then suddenly he sucked it all up, steeling himself to the situation saying, “I have to be strong.” And the tears stopped flowing.  I on the other hand, could not “be strong.”  I needed to grieve, whatever form that took.  I remembered a conversation I had with my mom where she asked me if I would cry for her when she was gone.  I did.

 The differences in our reactions to her death created a rift between my father and me.  I needed to mourn in my own way and I could not do it with someone who was trying to impose such control.  How different might our experiences have been if I could have understood the discipline my father was trying to exert upon himself.  We might have found strength in each other and maybe even the space to share this profoundly sad moment in much more supportive ways. If instead of harsh judgment, I could have found compassion.  If instead of toughening himself for some idealized vision of what it meant to be the head of the household, he could have shared his grief with me.  It took me a long time to begin to understand.  If only I knew then what I know now.

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.

Does He or Doesn’t She? Some Thoughts about God, Me and the SuperBowl

This Friday night we celebrate a very special Shabbat.  Although each Shabbat is special, certain  Shabbats  are singled out for particular meaning in the Jewish calendar.  There is Shabbat Shuvah, the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Shabbat HaGadol, the Shabbat leading to Passover, Shabbat Shirah, the Shabbat where we sing of crossing the Reed Sea, to name but three of them.  Friday, January 31st, we celebrate Shabbat Super Bowl.

Super Bowl Sunday is Feb 2nd 2014.  Does God actually play a role in the Super bowl?

There is much debate in America as to whether God plays a role in the Super bowl.  According to a new survey from the Public Religion Research Institute, “half of American Sports fans say they believe God or a supernatural force is at play in the games they watch.”  This includes 26% of Americans who pray directly to God to help their team, 25% of Americans who believe their team is cursed and approximately 19% of Americans who believe God is involved in who wins the game.  This raises some very interesting questions:  What is the nature of the God you believe in?

How do we understand God?   What role does God play in our lives?

If a disaster looms, do we thank God that we were spared from the hurricane (even though the guys that were nailed were not quite so lucky)?  If we get sick, do we pray for God to make us well?

I believe the adage “there are no atheists in foxholes.”  When your life is at stake, you grab on to anything that might be a lifeline.  And foxholes are metaphoric as well as literal.  Each of us will face trials and tribulations in our lives.  It is then that we need something to hold onto, an anchor, a rock a something that says we will survive this, because regardless of whether we want it or not, misfortune will surely strike.  We do not control the event, but we can control how we get through it and how we carry on after it is over.

So where and how do you find God?

 As I sought to answer this question, I found some incredible, astounding and sobering statistics:  The Department for Veteran’s Affairs reports than an estimated 48,000 veterans are homeless or at risk for becoming homeless.  As of the end of last year, the number of non-fatal casualties from Afghanistan and Iraq surpassed the grim milestone of one million.  Over 270,000 brain injuries have been diagnosed including traumatic brain injuries and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.   These are forbidding statistics.  But there is an important point that is tragically lost in these statistics.

 These are human beings who are suffering.  They are not nameless things, but rather, they are people, people who feel sadness, pain and anguish.  These are the people our prophets seek to protect when they call out to us.  For far too long we have not felt a personal connection to these individual people. We have let the impersonal Government take care of the nameless masses.  But it is for us, however, to look at them as our brothers and sisters, members of our American family. These are the distinct brave men and women like veteran ranger Sergeant First Class Cory Remsburg who appeared at the State of the Union Address earlier this week.  Sergeant First Class Cory Remsburg served his country heroically with a valor and devotion that goes beyond the comprehension of most of us.  And Cory Remsberg will spend the rest of his life dependent upon the love and support of all of us as he struggles to recover from devastating injuries.

 We are taught, “Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh.”  We are all responsible for each other. This is the charge from our God to each and every one of us, that it is our sacred obligation to protect the vulnerable.  We are commanded to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless, and safeguard the widow and the orphan.  It is here that we can find our God.  For when we reach out to another, God is in that sacred space.

 We learn about God’s sacred space in this week’s Torah portion Terumah.  Here are the intricate details of building God’s house in the Midbar.  The Mishkan is a moveable structure that the Israelites carry with them on their travels through the Wilderness.  And if we take this passage as metaphor, essentially we learn in this parshah that God is with us wherever we may go.  God Himself teaches us one of the core messages of Torah.  As we are taught to build the Ark of the Covenant, two Cherubim are placed on top of the Ark with facing each other with arms outstretched.  And God then says, “Here I will meet with you.” (Ex 25:22).  That, in other words, God is found in the place we come into relationship with each other.

 So let me return to the original question, “Does God influence the Super Bowl?”  “God Knows,” but I do not.  I am sure that there is a facet of God that enjoys a good contest, revels in positive human competition, and even enjoys a good burger. Should we invite Him to the Tailgating party? Would that unduly influence the Almighty or perhaps might He just enjoy the sweet savor of something hot off the grill?

 But the real question remains: “How can you find God’s presence in your daily life?” And the answer to that question might be that maybe God does indeed have the capacity to influence everything in our lives if only we reached out to others and opened ourselves up to the possibility.

 Shabbat Shalom

Make it a “Day On”

As we prepare for this weekend’s commemoration of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. I share the thoughts of a friend and colleague from the Main Line in Philadelphia:

 This weekend, we celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday.  Even more, as we celebrate Dr. King’s legacy, and remember his teachings and challenges to us, we hopefully can embrace Todd Bernstein’s challenge to us (Todd is the founder of the Greater Philadelphia MLK Day of Service) to make Monday not a day off, but a day on–a day of service.  We will commemorate Dr. King’s visions, dreams and hopes as we join with the members of Zion Baptist Church and Rev. Jim Pollard, and of Beth Am Israel and Rabbi David Ackerman, and our Unity Choir at services on Friday night at 8:00 pm and Sunday (note-Sunday services will also be at MLRT) at 11:00 am, and in two service opportunities on Monday-one at MLRT and one at Calvary Baptist Church.

 Rabbi Joachim Prinz, himself a refugee from Germany (my parents were members of his congregation in Newark, NJ), introduced Dr. King before he delivered his now famous I Have a Dream Speech on August 28, 1963.  His words seem as relevant and moving today as then.  He said:  “When I was the rabbi of the Jewish community in Berlin under the Hitler regime, I learned many things.  The most important thing I learned under those tragic circumstances was that bigotry and hatred are not the most urgent problem.  The most urgent, the most disgraceful, the most shameful and the most tragic problem is silence…. America must not become a nation of onlookers.  America must not remain silent.”

 I look forward to being with you for this wonderful weekend of prayer, music, fellowship and service.

 Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Straus