Mission to Israel Countdown t-2

Are you pro-Israel or not?

This is a moment of truth.  Which side are you on?

I am pro-Israel.  I believe in the State and its right to exist. I believe in its right to defend itself.  I believe Hamas is intent on Israel’s destruction; as such, it must be treated as an irreconcilable enemy that must be fought. But this battle comes at a price.

I grieve for the suffering of the Palestinians and pray that they, too, might find peace, dignity, and self-determination with a government that serves them.  And I am offended by the violence in the West Bank against Palestinians that seemingly slips under the radar but is no less egregious.

I disagree with Israel’s government and its policies.  But I set these aside for the time being.  Our focus must be on the current crisis.

I’m not too fond of reductionist thinking, but this is a simple binary decision.  You stand with Israel, which is now conflated with the Jewish people, or you do not.  This doesn’t mean we agree on everything (that will require the Messiah’s intervention), but world events have made it clear that the rest of the world has grouped the Jews with Israel.  We, therefore, must stand together.

We must stand for our values and deeply consider how those values are understood, especially in these challenging times.

Which side are you on?

Our lives are changed

All of our lives have been irrevocably changed as a result of October 7. The lives we thought we enjoyed before have had the veneer ripped away, and we are in a new and strangely familiar place as a people of history.

As many of you know, I am planning a trip to Israel with a few of my colleagues from the Philadelphia region through the generous support of the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia. Our purpose is to learn, bear witness, and bring home the stories of what is happening to the people of Israel. We will start in Tel Aviv, and we will move South, meeting with families of the kidnapped, hostages, and others whose lives around the envelope have been changed forever.

I do not know what I will encounter. And I say that as someone who is struggling here in the Diaspora and as someone committed to the Jewish state. We have complex and conflicting moral issues to try and understand. It is like threading the eye of a tiny needle. Our tradition is well-versed in parsing, probing, and understanding how we maintain our values even when those values are challenged in the most extraordinary ways. But we have enjoyed the opportunity to study those texts, not live them in real-time, and here in lies the real challenge of what it means to understand what is going on Jewishly.

I will share the lessons I will learn and some wisdom that I hope will come from these experiences. But I will at least bear witness.

I have been asked repeatedly if I am nervous or scared about my trip to Israel, and I do have trepidation, but it’s not the trepidation of being physically hurt. It is the trepidation of everything that I have held dear, of everything that I have worked for, of everything that I believe in, being tested in a way that I never thought would be imaginable today.

The virulent Jew-hatred we believed was part of our history is now being expressed publicly and shamelessly; that is frightening.

I am privileged to know many people of Goodwill, and so many of them have reached out in this fraught time to offer their support and love. But there are so many others who have remained silent and too many others who have let their antisemitism erupt into the public space. We can no longer pretend that Jew-hatred does not affect us. It does, and we must now decide whether we stand for what we claim to believe and fight for those values and ideals.

I pray for the people of Israel, I pray for my Jewish brothers and sisters both there and here, and I pray for peace. Perhaps these things may come more quickly than the all-too-elusive Messiah. It is up to us to hasten their coming.

 

 

 

Off To Israel

I am pleased to share that I am traveling to Israel. The Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia is sponsoring a small group of rabbis to witness the situation first-hand.  I look forward to sharing with you what I learn so we can better understand the issues and how we constructively engage. Stay safe and secure; find ways to support our people here and in Israel.  Let us pray for peace.

L’Shalom,

Rabbi David

Did I Make a Difference?

Parshat Devarim

Did I make a difference?
This timeless question is in Moses’ heart as Devarim, the first parsha of Deuteronomy, as he recounts the trials and tribulations from Egypt to the edge of the Promised Land.
He has led the people faithfully, but the old generation is gone. Moses prepares for his death, Joshua is appointed the new leader and a new generation of people formed and steeled in the crucible of the Midbar prepares to move forward, leaving Moses behind.
Moses’ recollections are slightly different than what we read as things occurred along the journey. Despite pushback from the people and God, he places himself in the spotlight as the true champion in every circumstance.
Elie Weisel suggests, “Some stories are true that never happened.” Indeed, memories often are the recalling of experiences based on the values that helped us understand those experiences and shaped us.
It has been an often-fraught relationship, with the people wanting to rebel and turn back, factions acting out against Moses and Moses saving the people from God’s wrath. Moses recounts things through the filter of his memory and the desire to be remembered for his accomplishments as the person who brought B’nei Israel into nationhood and to the Promised Land, following God’s direction. But now, it is Joshua’s turn as God’s chosen successor.
We sense the tension in the transition as Moses recounts the extraordinary experiences thus far under his tutelage. Although we consider Moses most humble, even he needs to see that his time has meaning, his life was for a purpose and the people he served appreciate all he has done.
We are on the verge of a new chapter. At the edge of the Promised Land, the needs are different. New and fresh leadership is required to meet the new tests, the challenges of a new generation and the new enterprise of taking the land and dwelling in it. But this transition is often abrupt and dismissive, without the respect the elders have earned.
Can we elevate the process by offering sincere gratitude and recognizing this as a “shehecheyanu” moment? Can we maintain a respectful place for those soon-to-be former leaders as curators of wisdom and institutional memory? This kind of transition is a process, not a moment. And the lessons of the Torah are timely. Change a name and the setting, and we are talking about us.
The pandemic accelerated many changes already underway in our culture and society. Legacy institutions have struggled with membership and age; leaders are finding they do not speak a language that resonates with the next generation to engage them successfully; identity is more fluid than ever.
For many clergy leaders, the time has come to leave the pulpit and make way for the new group of leaders. Can we find ways to usher this change along, honoring the past while looking to the future? I suggest that although the methods may differ, the Torah’s enduring values remain constant.
We will lose much if we cannot embrace the old while turning toward the new. It is about giving our people both roots and wings, to liken it to parenting.
It validates who we as parents are, the nurturers and teachers. The values they learn are the values we taught. The ability to find meaning is grounded in the world in which we raised them. This is a moment of extraordinary challenge, and the opportunities are practically unlimited. We brought them along on this remarkable journey to this particular point.
Now they, the next generation, must move forward, leaving us behind, but carrying us in their hearts and minds. This is the underlying message of the phrase, Zichronam Livracha, may their memories be for a blessing.
May we live our lives to bring honor to a tradition grounded in morals and ethics and understand that we live in service to something greater. And may the next generation honor us by doing the same.
This piece was originally published by the Jewish Exponent. 

A year-end message from Rabbi David Levin

Thank you for your support. Since our launch, Jewish Relationships Initiative has connected with thousands. It is an astounding number and I am deeply gratified that our message of Helping Seekers find Meaning using Jewish Wisdom has been successful for so many. But we have so much more to do. It is an ongoing process. New people are always welcome to connect so they can continue on their journey. Veterans of our site come and go as they find the need. Jewish Relationships Initiative is committed to the personal connections we make and the connections we make to community.

We thank you for your support and ask that you donate to Jewish Relationships Initiative so we can continue to do our important outreach work Helping Seekers find Meaning. Please click on the Donate button to help us in our work.

Todah M’rosh,

Rabbi David