Guess Who’s coming to Dinner this Sukkot?

 

 

Sukkah decorating
Decorating our Sukkah with friends at home

Ushpizin and the Pope 

The Jewish mystic tradition, through the Zohar, speaks of the Ushpizin, the greats of Jewish history as welcome guests to our Sukkah.

Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Aaron and David, along with Sarah, Rachel, Rebecca, Leah, Miriam, Abigail and Esther are our honored visitors. They bring with them the ideals and values central to Judaism and are sacred honored guests at our table, if only metaphorically.

 Here in Philadelphia we had the opportunity to add another name to the honored guests.  This one is Pope Francis. His Holiness speaks of values that we hold sacred. He speaks truth to power, even when that truth is uncomfortable. He illumines a path of joy and happiness, purpose and service, a meaningful life that extends beyond ourselves, in service to others. He is the Pope of the Catholics, but he is also a Pope for the World. Pope Francis has stretched out his arms to embrace Jews as brothers and sisters. He does this through his long-standing friendship and collaboration with Rabbi Skorka of Argentina. He also reaches out to the Jewish people through his support of Israel and his blessing of “Sinagoga and Ecclesia, In our Time,” a magnificent statue dedicated to the profound understanding of brotherhood between our two religious traditions commemorated on the fiftieth anniversary of Nostra Aetate.

 We are blessed to have Pope Francis in our midst. May his vision and teachings empower all of us to work to build a better world together.

The Sukkah and the Pope-e-que

Our Sukkah is underway.  This Sunday, erev Sukkot, we will celebrate.  In honor of the Pope’s arrival to Philadelphia we will have a combined Sukkah Decorating and barbecue, that we have affectionately dubbed the Pope-e-que.  IMG_0737

The Pope’s presence is bringing havoc to the area with the faithful throngs coming to see and hear him while the roads are shut down for security purposes.  Rather than be cynical, I am thrilled by his message of hope, love, joy and action to make a better world.  He is a disruptor in the best of ways.

Although your schedule is full Your Holiness, you are most welcome to Lashev baSukkah, grace us with your presence and enjoy some of the best kosher beef ribs around!

Chag Sameach and Shabbat Shalom!

Tzom Kal

As Yom Kippur approaches this evening, we offer each other words of kindness, “Have an easy fast.” But this self-affliction is purposeful and not meant to be easy. We fast to help create an atmosphere of contemplation and deep reflection as we bare our souls.

So instead, I want to wish everyone a “Tzom Chashuv,” a “meaningful and important fast.”

Pope-e-que

Like so many, I am taken by Pope Francis. However, such popularity comes at a cost.

 The Pope is planning to visit Philadelphia to help celebrate the World Meeting of Families. This amazing conclave is expected to bring in millions and the city is bracing itself. We even have a countdown clock! The preparations however make getting around Philadelphia impossible while Pope Francis is in town. Local reporters warn us to prepare as though we are going to encounter a blizzard; have enough food and water on hand to last for at least a couple of days.

 I would love to see the Pope, but security corridors and fences, re-routed and limited trains and buses and the throngs of the faithful will make getting out of our immediate area unrealistic. So we are going to have a barbeque at our home for our local friends who will likewise be unable to go anywhere beyond walking distance from home. Hence, the Pope-e-que. Of course we would be deeply honored if His Holiness would join us, after all he will be staying just down the road. But we understand if he cannot. We are looking forward to making his time here good for all.

 It will be fun, it will be in his honor and it will be kosher.

Mission Israel

I had the privilege of joining 17 other rabbinic colleagues on a mission to Israel. The Federations of Greater Philadelphia and Metro West as well as the WZO (World Zionist Organization) sponsored this mission. It was a four-day whirlwind; up, north, down, south, east and west, I felt like the rabbinic equivalent of a Lulav. It was a very interesting trip, as much for what was said as for what was not said.

 The WZO agenda tried to create a narrative for us. But the story they tried to tell was different from the one I took away from the trip. There was no shortage of Hasbara. The and WZO tried to portray a society that is accepting and growing, wanting peace with those who want likewise (the Druze we met along the Lebanon border in the town of Hurfeish), and ready to take on the civil issues (the Ethiopians we met in Rishon LeZion). More troubling issues remained off-limits however, and the conversation regarding the Palestinians issues came down to better advocacy (a presentation by Stand with Us) and Ambassador Alan Baker’s legal explanation about why Israel is in the right and the Palestinians are acting without legal justification.

 We also were witness to the nascent rise of spirituality in the secular society through the establishment of an Israeli Seminary and an organic lay-led movement creating a “Minhag Israeli” distinct and apart from American transplants. Along with this was a conversation about redefining Zionism in the modern context to appeal to the current generation and acknowledge current realities.

 For me, these dots and created a picture of a society that is in many ways engaged in an internal existential struggle for its soul. As Israel has achieved the vision to become a Nation like other Nations, Israelis are finding this place insufficient. Realizing the dream has created a reality that leaves the heart and soul of the aspirational mythic idea of Israel unfulfilled. There is a struggle to find more. The Palestinian issue seems to be eating away at the hearts and minds of many Israelis as are many other issues creating a deep profound yearning. I saw and felt this when I visited last year during the war as well.

 That struggle is present here in the US; we struggle to understand Israel and our connection. We are challenged to do a better job of facilitating the conversations and fostering relationships that are deep and enduring. I believe that the WZO approach appeals to a segment of the American Jewish Community already sitting in the pews of that denomination. But that leaves many of us standing outside and unsatisfied with the offering and that number is growing.

 I was encouraged by the visits to the projects we support through Federation including our sister city, Netivot. At a youth center one of our more gregarious rabbis got down on the mats and wrestled a couple of the kids. Although Seth had the boy by several pounds, the short-lived match was great. We also saw the planned mural for the water tower of Netivot being created by our very own Philadelphia treasure, the Mural Arts Program. I have been a fan of Mural Arts for a while, watching its artists transform an often blighted urban landscape into a place of culture and hope one wall at a time. We can take pride in the many good things we do but I wonder how those things might be expanded further.

 One important highlight, was the camaraderie and collegiality this trip fostered. Our rabbis represented a spectrum of beliefs and cut across denominations. Although our religious views and practices are substantially different, we found common ground to learn together, to create friendships together and to talk together. Of particular note was the insistence of our Orthodox colleagues to stop our trip for a Mincha service so that one of us, a reform woman rabbi, could say Kaddish for her father. So there we were on a playground davening Mincha together, a truly profound moment and an important lesson for us all.

My ambivalent relationship with Charlie Hebdo

Je suis Charlie, Je ne suis pas Charlie

Now that the dust has begun to settle around the recent tragic murders in France I wanted to share my thoughts.

My heart goes out to the families of those murdered while at work at Charlie Hebdo. The fanatical rage that drove the two assassins to kill cannot be justified. They destroyed lives and made a mockery of Islam. But my compassion for the people does not extend to the magazine known as Charlie Hebdo.

Our society embraces free speech as a fundamental virtue. What makes free speech truly free is not the defense of easy and virtuous speech, it is rather in the defense of the ugly and the difficult even the vile and despicable. It is here that free speech is truly free. Only if all speech is defended then all speech is protected, including yours and mine. Our caveat has been to limit free speech so that it cannot be the direct cause of harm to others; we cannot yell “Fire” in a crowded theater is the standard example offered. That is not the only censorship we should consider however.

We must self-regulate. Civility and decorum require we consider how our words affect others. That is based on a respect for our fellow human being and the knowledge that words are powerful and can inflict hurt and emotional pain. We often do not account for how our words impact others and we should before indiscriminately lobbing verbal or written bombs.

Charlie Hebdo is not my cup of tea. Its purpose appears to be to offend wherever and however they can. Charlie Hebdo did not single out Islam for disrespect and mockery; Charlie holds nothing sacred. The tabloid seems to respect little more than its own sense of entitlement and right to print whatever they could to offend whoever they could. This attitude effectively limits their bite. Sometimes there is incisive social commentary, but it is rare enough that most of us do not subscribe to Charlie Hebdo.

The magazine was reportedly on the verge of bankruptcy; its circulation had all but dried up. Charlie Hebdo exercised the right to free speech and we exercised our right to protest it by ignoring the rag. That is how civil society deals with such things. Mocking everything means valuing nothing, including the right to express such things. Outrage over the mistreatment of one of the world’s great religions is however understandable. Carnage however, in the name of protecting the religion, does nothing but defile that religion and threatens one of the greatest of all human rights.

Your Personal Story- Meaning from the Akedah

We are about to read the story known as the Akedah, The Binding of Isaac. It is the story of Abraham hearing God’s command and taking his son on a journey to Mount Moriah, to offer Isaac as a sacrifice to the Eternal.

What does the Akedah really mean? And why do we read it now, on Rosh Hashanah? It is a hard text to comprehend. It is incongruous, it seems too sparse- so much of the story seems to be untold; the unspoken words in between the words on the page seem almost boundless. It is also a hard text as we grapple to find Jewish values in a narrative that does not seem to explicitly embrace them very well. It is a fascinating example of remembrance.

When we look back, it is interesting to see how we remember. Last year, all 365 days are compressed into some memories. We do not relive every moment. Instead we select highlights, and even those we filter and interpret. For anyone with a partner or spouse, we all have experienced a retelling of a story or event only to be interrupted by our partner with a different recollection of the same event. “No, it was Thursday— at 2 o’clock. And it was YOUR mother, not my father.” And even if you are single, we have all heard someone recall an event to which we think to ourselves, “that’s not how it happened at all.” Who we are affects and where we are in our lives affects what and how we remember. It is like that with the Akedah.

Each time we approach this story it is new. The words are familiar but we see things we had not seen before, often we see things for the first time. We have grown and we have experienced and we are not who we were the last time we encounter the story. And because of this, the story is new, revealing things to us we did not or could not see before.

There are stories and elucidations in our tradition that the rabbis told called Midrashim wherein they attempt to explain what is really happening in a particular biblical story, filling in the gaps that exist. The Akedah is a particularly fertile opportunity; the rabbis attempt to explain what is really going on here. Some Midrashim suggest that Isaac actually was sacrificed. One piece of evidence used to substantiate this understanding is that Abraham was instructed by God to sacrifice Isaac. The Angel telling Abraham to stop would not have swayed Abraham from following God’s instruction. It would be akin to a Lieutenant countermanding a General’s order. But ultimately God remains true to the promise and resurrects Isaac. This could account for why Abraham and Isaac ascend the mountain together, but Abraham descends the mountain alone.

Why would such an interpretation come about?  Possibly it was in response to a time of great persecution when Jews were being martyred killed for their observance. We needed something to hold on to at a time of great hardship and trial. And it may have fallen into disuse as Christianity embraced the Akedah story as a foretelling of their theology.

And then at other times, the Akedah presents the saving of Isaac as the triumphal expression of God’s love and the prohibition of human sacrifice. Some of the greatest minds, both Jew and non-Jew, throughout history have argued almost every conceivable interpretation. We carry on an illustrious tradition by continuing to grapple with this text.

So for you here today, at this stage of your life what does the story of the Akedah mean to you? On Rosh Hashanah, this time of introspection, we are likened to Abraham. So as you reflect on your year gone by, how do you make meaning from your journey? What do you remember, what do you leave out? How do you make sense of your story as you listen to the story of Abraham and Isaac in the Akedah?

Looking in the mirror- an Elul Reflection

“They hate us,” “they want to hurt us” are two often heard refrains in the Jewish community.  Sadly this view of “the other” has had basis in truth.  Our history has too many incidents of another seeking our persecution or our annihilation.  From this comes a certain wariness of the other.  Xenophobia has roots and fertile soil. But when we view others through this lens, we too can become the very perpetrators of the animosity we find repugnant and threatening in the other.  Instead of searching for ways to coexist, we look for ways to protect ourselves from them.  We isolate them hoping to insulate us.  But instead, we isolate us and foreclose the possibility of building a bridge that might somehow connect us.

So during this time of Elul, the month of introspection leading up to the sacred Yamim Noraim, the High Holidays, let us take the time to look in the mirror at ourselves.  Let us dare to look our own faces in the mirror and see what really is staring back.  The opportunity for peace can exist only if we are first willing to take the risk of learning the truth in ourselves.  Then we can see the truth in the other.  And only then is there a prospect to build together.

On the international stage, we have witnessed in the ongoing Gaza conflict the perpetuating cycle of hatred.  It is very difficult indeed to sit and have a coffee with someone who is dedicated to your eradication.  And certainly there those who are so dedicated.  But has such hatred created in us the belief that everyone on the other side is dedicated to our destruction?  What happens when we begin to speak in sweeping terms that everyone is the implacable enemy?  Arab devolves into an epithet used to describe the enemy, the modern-day Amelek of our Torah, the embodiment of evil.  We lose sight that there are many on the other side also seeking to live their lives peacefully and with hope for a brighter tomorrow for their children.  We lose the ability to reach out and seek a peace for all.

The children can teach us so very much.  Hand-in-Hand schools, Seeds of Peace, Project Harmony-Israel and The Galilee Circus show us how Jew and Non-Jew can live together peacefully sharing and building.  We also see Arab children taught the canards of Anti-Semitism in the public schools of Gaza and other Arab Countries.  And sadly, we see the Jewish Israeli children taught the canards of animus and distrust of Arab neighbors, viewing them as second class citizens without legitimate voice or aspiration.  Hatred is often taught and hatred is a learned response to the world around us. But there is another perspective.   Elul is the time for us to look in the mirror and see ourselves.

Closer to home, these words of introspection apply to our daily lives as well.  So often we find ourselves at odds with family or friends, cross words lead to harsh actions and harsher words and crosser actions in response.  We can be estranged from the very ones with whom we should be closest because of what they said or what they did or what we perceived.  But their actions might be a response to what we have said or done. Pride keeps us apart and the passing time only builds the walls separating us higher and wider.  Might a close look in the mirror reveal something about our true selves that could be the bridge toward understanding?  What could we have said that precipitated their reaction?  And even more importantly, is the lost relationship worth the stand on principles or protected ego?

Things do not change by themselves or even quickly.  We can only hope that both sides will put aside the vitriol to seek another way. If even if they cannot, we still can.  We can control our actions.  We can understand that protracted animosity only perpetuates the status quo, a status quo that leaves us living in anger or fear of brother or neighbor, fear of each moment, paralyzed and unable to more forward.  For our brethren in Israel, the status quo requires the periodic sacrifice of their children in defense of their home; And for us, that we are alienated from others when it is precisely their relationship that we need.  Maybe there is a better way.  Maybe there is a brighter tomorrow for our children and us.  And maybe we can be the ones to begin that process of change so that we all might someday live in peace.

Elul is the time to look in the mirror and see our stark reality and also to realize that today can be the new beginning if we are willing.