Thoughts as I Prepare to leave for Israel

I am a day away from heading off to Israel. I prepare to leave feeling a combination of excitement and trepidation, but I leave with three goals in mind: First and foremost, I want to support and show solidarity with Israel, then I want to learn first hand what is happening and finally, I want to return prepared to share with my community the result of these experiences.

So far I have refrained from writing publicly about the war. Enough people are weighing in. Emotions are running high, facts are difficult to ascertain and thoughts continue to be tested. And I struggle with it all.

I believe that there is a time and place for things. Now, it is the time to show support and solidarity. But I will share that I believe war is a hellish nightmare that consumes and irrevocably changes all it touches. It is my hope however that from the ashes of destruction something meaningful and hopeful can rise. And it is my hope that I will be able to contribute something positive to the process.

Shabbat Shalom!

Anguish and Hope

Like so many others, I find myself in a place of anguish.  The violence perpetrated upon both Israelis and Palestinians is overwhelmingly sad and tragic.  I struggle with the hatred and resultant terror, death and destruction.  Whether the cause is righteous or even justifiable, the price that the innocents pay is too great.  And in the end, we all have blood on our hands, forever changed by war.

 Today, many of us observe a fast.  The 17th of Tammuz is traditionally a fast day for the Jewish people, marking catastrophes and heartbreaks in our history.  It coincides with the fast of Ramadan.  We join together praying that our sadness might transform into hope, that the killing might end, that the hatred might cease, that the opportunity for peace might appear as rays of light shining through the cracks in the broken vessel in which we find ourselves.

 To learn more about this event, look to the website:

https://www.facebook.com/JewsAndArabsChooselife?hc_location=timeline

 I share the following poem written by two religious leaders from Jerusalem,  Sheikh Ibtisam Mahamid and Rabbi Tamar Elad-Appelbaum, shared with me by my colleague, Rabbi David Ackerman.

 God of Life

Who heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds

 May it be your will to hear the prayer of mothers

For you did not create us to kill each other

Nor to live in fear, anger or hatred in your world

But rather you have created us so we can grant permission to one another to sanctify Your name of Life, your name of Peace in this world.

For these things I weep, my eye, my eye runs down with water

For our children crying at nights,

For parents holding their children with despair and darkness in their hearts

For a gate that is closing and who will open it while day has not yet dawned.

And with my tears and prayers which I pray

And with the tears of all women who deeply feel the pain of these difficult days

I raise my hands to you please God have mercy on us

Hear our voice that we shall not despair

That we shall see life in each other,

That we shall have mercy for each other,

That we shall have pity on each other,

That we shall hope for each other

And we shall write our lives in the book of Life

For your sake God of Life

Let us choose Life.

For you are Peace, your world is Peace and all that is yours is Peace,

And so shall be your will and let us say

 Amen

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.

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

Syria- An American Jewish Perspective

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

Ha’azinu- The name of this week’s parashah means to LISTEN IN

In his final moments, Moses sings a song to the people.  He calls upon Heaven and Earth to be witnesses to remember the extraordinary blessings of how God found Israel in the desert, shaped them into a people and chose them as his own.

But the blessings make us complacent, and we turn our backs on the very God who provided all that we have.  And in response, God “hides his face.” We suffer as a result of our own actions.  But there is the promise that God will be reconciled with his people.  That is the message of hope.

This message rings so true today and so desperately needs to be heard.

As a nation, we are war weary.  Iraq and Afghanistan have taken a horrible heavy toll.  These long protracted wars have left us wondering why we did what we did and to what effect?  Was it all worth it? The toll in the precious lives of our men and women that served, the incalculable cost and even our moral standing in the world.  I have long believed in the American ideals; that freedom and truth and democracy were the American shining beacons upon the world- the lights unto the nations.  But these lights flicker, the result of so much we have done in the harsh realpolitik of the global stage in the beginning of this century and the century before that.

We are not the world’s policemen. But on some level, the relative stability that world has enjoyed is a Pax Americana, maintained by the dominance of the worlds only superpower projecting its influence across the globe.  And despite the cynicism, the byproduct of protecting economic and political self-interest, our guiding principles still echo in our hearts and minds, principles that focus on protecting those who are not empowered or capable of doing so themselves.  As Americans and as Jews we are compelled to respond to the travesties and tragedies that so completely offend our sacred sensibilities and values.

As Jews we are uniquely attuned to the issues of power.  Our Jewish tradition has been built on a system of ethics and morals- what we should do, what we are obligated to do, because we have historically often found ourselves outside the protection of power or civil society.  We are charged to care for the poor, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless because these are the people that are the vulnerable and powerless amongst us, the most ill-equipped to care for themselves

We listen to the cries of suffering of the common people of Syria as they find themselves the victims of the brutal civil war that rages.  100,000 people are dead.  Millions have fled seeking safe haven from the death and destruction that rains down indiscriminately.  Women, children, and men it makes no difference.  Fighter or Innocent bystander, it makes no difference.

The war seems to descend lower and lower into more vicious and more brutal attacks.  Sarin gas has been used and an estimated 400 children maybe 1500 adults have been murdered.  Although the numbers are not clear, the effects are.  The sound of death is excruciating; the whimper of someone struggling for breath, the moan of someone whose body is racked by pain.  Gas or bomb- a slow agonizing death is a horrible thing.

The use of chemical weapons is particularly deplorable.  But, I do not think the red line was using chemical weapons.  To me the red line is to exterminate people in the name of political power.  That line was crossed years ago.  That line resonates within me and within every Jew.  We often ask, “Why didn’t the allies stop the holocaust?”  If they only destroyed the train tracks leading to the death camps, conceivably millions could have been saved.  The world turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the pleas of 12 million victims whose only crime was they were Jews or Catholics or gays or gypsies, or the physically or mentally handicapped.  Can we continue to be deaf?

I do not know what a punitive strike against the Assad regime means.  I know that the politics of action are complicated and the potential ramifications are ominous. But the results of our inaction are equally problematic.   Assad is no friend of the US or Israel and those seeking to topple him are likewise.  So to ask if intervention directly serves American security interests, the answer is likely no.  But if we instead ask the question: “can we stop the barbaric bloodshed?” Then the answer is “maybe so.”  Stopping the barbaric bloodshed however will serve an important political interest however;  for the millions streaming across the border have a hugely de-stabilizing effect on Jordan, Turkey and thereby also threatening Israel.   It is my sincerest hope that President Obama speaks to the nation this Tuesday evening cogently and honestly explaining what it is his proposed military intervention is expected to do. We deserve to hear no less.

There was a time when I thought a Bosnia-like approach to intervention could have forced the war-makers on both sides into neutral corners and saved civilian lives.  But our current redline and subsequent delay until everyone is in agreement makes the military option much less viable with every passing day.  The open debate is important, but it changes and limits the effective options available.

Assad is Russia’s ally.  We might be able to push Putin to replace his current dictator with another dictator.  Although Putin may not be predisposed to listening, we could make rather persuasive arguments, ones that might resonate. Hopefully that was part of the private discussion today between Presidents Putin and Obama in St. Petersburg.  And if the United Nations Security Council is immobilized, we can still rally a substantial portion of the international community.  Whatever we do, our commitment must be to the voices of the victims whose voices cannot be heard.  We must answer the question: “What can we do to save the innocents?”

If we only are concerned with protecting American security or economic interests, then intervention in this place and the great American experiment is nothing but an exercise in selfish world dominance that will surely end as every empire before it has ended.  But I believe the American experiment remains noble of purpose.  It is grounded in the ideals that the individual has value, honor and dignity; that each person has a voice to be heard.  The peal of freedom’s bell can and still does cry out.  If only we would listen.

Disband Israel’s Chief Rabbinate, save Judaism’s good name – Opinion – Israel News | Haaretz Daily Newspaper

Rabbi Eric Yoffie offered a profound and profoundly sad conclusion to the situation with the Chief Rabbinate in Israel.  I share his words with you.

 

Disband Israel’s Chief Rabbinate, save Judaism’s good name – Opinion – Israel News | Haaretz Daily Newspaper.