Lean In

I am reeling from the attacks on my fellow Jews here in the United States. I struggle to understand the apparent fight against anti-Semitism by targeting institutions like Harvard, which seems to provoke a backlash. It appears that Jew-hatred has been normalized enough for these miscreants to heed the words that sanction violent acts. Recent horrific attacks on Jews leave us wondering if we are safe. What should we do?

LEAN IN

I take pride in my heritage, the values of my tradition, and the prophetic call to make the world a better place. I connect with people who share my beliefs, and I also reach out to those who do not. I stand up for what I believe and engage in conversation with others.

I will proudly defend my identity, including that of an American who upholds the aspirations of our founding documents and the struggle for equality, justice, and liberty.

Now is not the time to cower in fear but to realize that many others are like me, seeking a safe and secure world for our children, believing in something greater than myself, and understanding that the “other” is not a threat; they are just someone I have yet to know. It can be scary and difficult to do.

I attend my synagogue.  If you haven’t done so recently, now is a great time to find community.  And there are so many causes that demand our attention, for our charge is to make the world a better place.  It is more important than ever to fulfill our mission.  There is strength in numbers, and besides our Jewish community, we have many allies.

I am a Jew; I am an American.  I fight for the causes I believe in because they are righteous and good.  Join me and Lean In.

We mourn the loss of Pope Francis

The world mourns the passing of Pope Francis.  He was an extraordinary and holy man. At the age of 88, it is difficult to consider his death untimely, yet indeed, it feels that way.  His pursuit of love remains a lesson unfulfilled despite his tireless efforts to lead the world toward such a place.

Naomi and I had the privilege of an audience with the Pope while in Rome a few years back.  The charismatic presence was matched only by the exuberance of a faithful crowd. The encounter was memorable and moving.

His work on behalf of the poor and the suffering in the pursuit of peace and love was incredible, a mixture of Herculean and Sisyphean.  But as our sage, Rabbi Tarfon shares in Pirkei Avot, although we may never complete the task, we cannot desist from it.  Pope Francis leaned into the daunting, hard work of bringing a voice to the voiceless and the best values of the Church as a beacon into the darkness.

May his soul be bound in everlasting life.  May he rest in Peace.

 

Why is this Passover different from all others?

As we gather around the Seder table, we find ourselves in a moment that feels uniquely challenging. While previous generations have confronted serious issues, the current landscape is unlike anything we’ve encountered in recent memory. The ongoing war is relentless, with no end in sight and no plan for what follows. Hostages remain trapped, seemingly without hope for redemption. Furthermore, we are witnessing a rise in anti-Israel sentiment, along with a resurgence of Antisemitism not just abroad but right here in the United States. Fear and anxiety permeate our lives, and rather than coming together to confront these threats, we often find ourselves at odds with each other. This moment in time is fraught with tension.

However, we have the power to respond constructively, with unity and compassion.

By gathering at the Seder table, we embody the spirit of inclusion with our declaration: “Whoever is hungry, come and eat!” This Passover, our hunger for spiritual and emotional support is palpable. Let us set aside our differences to share and celebrate the profound story of our people’s redemption, recognizing that each of us connects to this narrative in our own distinctive way. Our tradition highlights four individuals asking different questions—a reflection of our diverse perspectives. We ought to welcome one another, fostering an environment of understanding even amidst spirited discussions. The Shalom Bayit, the peace of the Seder table, and our unity must prevail. Now, more than ever, we need each other. This Passover, let us cherish our time with family and community, share the powerful story of redemption and freedom, and be grateful that we have one another in these trying times.

Wishing you a Zissen Pesach!

 

A Statement of Jewish Beliefs

Reform Rabbis and Cantors are signing this statement of Jewish Beliefs.  I am proud to be among them.

In this time of swirling events and governmental chaos, it is important to remind ourselves of our core beliefs as American Jews.  These are some of the values we hold dear and which guide our lives and our actions.

  1. We believe that all people are the children of God, endowed with holiness, all equal in value. (Gen. 1:27)
  2. We believe in welcoming the stranger, the alien in our midst, the one who lives with us. (Lev. 19:33) We are commanded to love the stranger as ourselves.  We are a people of repeated migrations, descended from strangers in Egypt.
  3. We believe in honesty, commanded not to bear false witness (Ex. 20:13, Lev. 19:11)
  4. We believe in listening respectfully, valuing the ideas of those who disagree, and seeking peace. (Avot 1:12, 1:18)
  5. We believe in fairness in business and all transactions: not engaging in fraud, paying workers promptly, honestly representing what is offered. (Lev.19:13; 19:35-6)
  6. We believe in respect for others, especially for the strangers among us, for elders and those less fortunate, and all who struggle. We are commanded not to take advantage of the weakness of others, not to place a stumbling block before the blind. (Lev. 19:32; 19:14)  We feel it is important to engage in acts of kindness and believe that we are in relationship with all people and should behave with compassion and empathy. (Avot 1:2)
  7. We call what we give to others tzedakah, giving based on justice. We believe in the importance of compassion, but what we give to others in need is based on seeking justice in society.
  8. We believe in knowledge and the exchange of ideas, including minority viewpoints. We value learning and the advancement of knowledge, in science, in literature, sacred and secular. (Avot 1:16)
  9. We believe in respecting and caring for our world, for tending the land and acting as dedicated stewards. (Gen 1:29-30 and Lev. 19:23 ff.)
  • We cherish the religious freedom in the United States and celebrate the diversity of beliefs and practices in our country. We deeply value the American Constitutional guarantees separating religion and state that have made possible the flourishing of all religions in our country.

 

The Masks We Wear

Courtesy of Vlad Hilitanu

As we approach Purim, I began thinking about our holiday and our celebration, which includes costumes.

I’ve always thought that Reform Jews needed better uniforms.

In our desire to embrace modernity, we’ve adopted the clothing commonly worn by others, rendering us indistinguishable as we blend into the broader culture.

Our more traditional brethren have uniforms—items that set them apart and make them easily recognizable: payot, kippot, shtreimel, sheitels, long black coats, and other garments depending on the particular denomination. Many of us will dress in costumes to celebrate Purim, but we wear masks as part of a wardrobe that reflects aspects of who we are all the time.

The truth is, we all wear uniforms.  It is easy to identify a firefighter, a police officer, or a member of the military; their uniforms indicate that they are part of an elite group with a specific purpose. Those of us who are slaves to fashion publicly claim we are au courant, while those of us who deliberately choose to rebel against such norms wear uniforms that proclaim we are iconoclasts.  These public displays of identity convey that we are part of a group motivated by pride, belonging, or sometimes even fear.  Are these masks, reflections, or projections?

Does our outward appearance reflect who we are inside, who we aspire to be, or how we want the world to perceive us?  When these aspects do not align, it’s essential to pause and reflect on why.  Why do we present ourselves in ways that do not match our true selves?  Sometimes this discrepancy is aspirational, while at other times it may stem from feelings of inadequacy or a fear of revealing our authentic selves to the world.

I hope my mask is revealing. It shares my identity and signals that I am approachable, an authority, and a source of comfort in whatever way my intended audience needs to see me, while remaining authentic to my true self on Purim and every day.  May we all find the space to be the best version of ourselves.  May we be unafraid to be who we are and grateful for that, even if we aspire to more.

 

 

 

 

Shabbat Shalom -Jerusalem of Gold

Naomi Shemer penned this anthem, expressing our longing for the sacredness of Jerusalem.  Rabbi Angela Buchdal and Cantor Dan Mutlu share their extraordinary voices to sing Yerushalim Shel Zahav.

May the sacredness and promise of Jerusalem live, peace come to the region, and our hostages are returned home.

Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Shalom

Playing for Change brings musicians from around the world together to perform songs of unity, peace, and love. Amazing Grace is not usually on the Kabbalat Shabbat Playlist for most of us, but if you watch and listen, the singers in Jerusalem and the lyrics convey hope and faith, which is what we need as we enter Shabbat.

Shabbat Shalom

Throwing the Baby Out with the Bathwater

A colleague shared ideas in a forum, ending with the words “unrepentantly Zionist and Politically Incorrect.”

He proudly resisted, and while I value his essential work and support as a rabbi, I wonder if he, like many of us, is “throwing the baby out with the bathwater.” Now is the time for nuance, to stand up for our core values, and to eliminate much of the noise that makes those values challenging to embrace. Backlash often lacks focus; now, focus on our values is needed more than ever.

I am a Zionist.  But my Zionism is a belief in identity and rights to a safe and secure place to call one’s own.  It is precisely my Zionism that compels me to understand this same need for the Palestinian people.  Both are true; I must accept the other to validate the one.  Before railing against this, let me reiterate that this modern Zionism is premised on both people having the right to safety and security.  That requires people to be committed to peaceful coexistence, which requires serious and difficult compromises from each side.

Another colleague, friend, and teacher commented on the so-called Black Lives Matter movement. He is appalled by their alliance with radical pro-Palestinian groups that are also anti-Israel. I agree that they have betrayed their righteous cause of equality under the law. This is another instance where a core idea is co-opted, diluted, and ultimately betrayed by those with different political agendas. However, we cannot allow these individuals to deter us from our core belief in equality for everyone and our commitment to working with others to realize the promise of our nation’s founding principles.

Navigating through the fog is a significant challenge, but it is what we are trained to do. Our tradition of Makhloket l’Shem Shamayim, argument for the sake of Heaven,  revolves around how our values are understood when tested under various circumstances. This is precisely the challenge we face today. Whether we agree with our government’s current policies and procedures is an essential but separate conversation; how these impact our cherished beliefs should be our focus.  Our fundamental values of caring, including feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, housing the homeless, and caring for the widow and orphan, are constantly threatened, now evermore so.  Therefore, the need to champion our beliefs has never been more crucial.