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The Jewish Art Of Happiness

  http://www.youtube.com/embed/D0V1kI2reKA?version=3&hl=en_US

Are We Moving Beyond Denominational Borders?

Rabbi Jason A. Miller

     As a 30-something rabbi, I’ve noticed that denominational labels were much more important for our parents’ and grandparents’ generations than they are for us.  Today’s 20- and 30-year-olds are searching for meaning in religion and are not very concerned with the names of movements or synagogues.
     Rabbi Naftali Rothenberg, an Orthodox rabbi, recently wrote an Op-Ed in The New York Jewish Week entitled “Time To End The Reform-Orthodox Wars.” He was responding to Israeli chief rabbi Shlomo Amar’s attack on Reform Jews and his pressure on the Israeli government to prevent involvement of non-Orthodox movements in state and religion affairs.
     I was pleased to read Rothenberg’s perspective that it is time for Orthodox Jews to “build bridges of cooperation [to Reform and Conservative Jews] for the sake of the entire people of Israel and its future” without compromising principles or “fidelity to a life of Torah and mitzvoth.”
     My own sense is that despite some animosity toward other denominations of Judaism, which is often bred on ignorance, there is actually much tolerance and understanding among fellow Jews.  We are moving toward a Jewish community in which the borders that separate the denominations are becoming blurred.
Rothenberg  recognizes the need to bridge the vast abyss between his brand of Orthodoxy and the more progressive streams of modern Judaism, but he remains concerned that the depths of antipathy will make this too difficult.  I disagree.
     We live in a time when a Jewish person’s Facebook profile identifies her religion as "Recon-newel-ortho-conserva-form." This combination of religious denominations does not demonstrate confusion or haziness, but rather the realization that there is "meaning" to be made from the various pathways to Torah.
     I knew when I decided to become a rabbi that the Conservative Movements Jewish Theological Seminary would be the right place for my training. I had been raised in Conservative Judaism, studying at Hillel Day School and honing my leadership skills in United Synagogue Youth, the movement’s youth program. However, it was in rabbinical school that I came into contact with the other "flavors" of Judaism – praying each Shabbat at an Orthodox shul, engaging in Torah study with a Reconstructionist rabbi, and training as a hospital chaplain with a Reform rabbinical student.
     My first job after graduating rabbinical school was at the University of Michigan Hillel Foundation, an institution that offers five different Shabbat service options. On any given Friday evening I could find myself in a Reform havurah, a Conservative minyan, an egalitarian gathering with separate seating, or a traditional Orthodox service. From week to week, I saw many students sampling the various options, less concerned with ideological labels than with finding a comfort level that spoke to them spiritually, intellectually, and communally. They were in search of meaning, not a denominational brand.
     Last year, I traveled to New York City several times to be part of a fellowship with rabbinic colleagues spanning the denominations. We gathered every few months to study Torah together, to pray together, and to dialogue about the important issues of the day. As part of Clal’s Rabbis Without Borders program, we found a safe space to share our distinct viewpoints on a host of topics – from faith perspectives on healing to the economy’s effect on religion to the role of music in prayer. We might not have all agreed on how the Torah was revealed to the Jewish people in the desert thousands of years ago, but we each managed to share our Jewish wisdom through the medium of Torah.
     Denominational labels are becoming far less important in the 21st century as the borders have blurred.  While I may be a card-carrying Conservative rabbi, I work for Tamarack Camps – a Jewish camping agency that serves the entire community, from the unaffiliated to the religious. I lead a Reconstructionist synagogue, Congregation T’chiyah, in which my more traditional practices and beliefs are not compromised, but respected and admired.  I teach teens on Monday nights at Temple Israel, one of the largest Reform congregations in the world.  I run a kosher certification business in which I demand the highest levels of kashruth compliance to meet the requirements of our faith and the needs of our community.
     Looking beyond the borders that divide our Jewish community is not always easy or comfortable. After all, there are real differences that set us apart.  There are always going to be political and ideological conflicts that keep us from praying together or eating together. But we must always seek to dialogue with civility and come together over the issues on which we can agree. A Reform Passover seder may differ greatly from an Orthodox one, but the context is the same – we are all recalling the days our people spent in slavery. Neither Pharaoh nor Hitler differentiated between Reform, Conservative or Orthodox Jews.

Rabbi Jason Miller is a blogger (http://blog.rabbijason.com), kosher supervisor (http://koshermichigan.com), and Jewish educational entrepreneur.  He is the rabbi of Tamarack Camps and the spiritual leader of Congregation T’chiyah, both located in Michigan.

 From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

'Fair Play' or Sit This One Out?

PLAY FAIR! That's something that most of us probably believe sports should be teaching our young people.
Well, in Houston, the students at the Robert M. Beren Academy earned a place in a semi-finals basketball tournament run by the Texas Association of Private and Parochial Schools. Problem was that the game was scheduled for Friday night, the Sabbath!
The school respectfully asked if the game time could be changed and the Assoc. said, 'No.' That the school knew that tournaments would be held on a Friday (or could be). That they took the risk. That there could be no exception made or that something akin to 'anarchy' would prevail and ruin the very purpose for the Assoc.  (Or something akin to that sentiment.) Such rigidness reminded me of Jean Valjean in Les Miserables who stole bread to feed his starving relatives, but was punished severely, as if he stole much money. Motive or values could not come into play.
Now, until I heard that the school knew in advance that tournaments could/ would be held on the Sabbath, I was 100% pro- Beren Academy. But, hearing the other side, my position shifted, as much as my heart went out to the students and their coach.
As if born of a made-for-TV script, comes news that the Beren Academy students can play their game earlier on Friday. And, if they end up being able to cotinue on in the tournament, their next game would not take place until after the Sabbath.
So, was I jumping for joy and hoping to make a hoop shot of my own, here? Not quite. Because the Association changed it's mind not out of a sense of fair play or even because of media and other schools' pressure, but due to a lawsuit filed by some of the Jewish players' parents.
While I am thrilled for the boys' sake... And for what I see as a victory for people of faith (and not only Jewish ones)... My sense of fair play if slightly offended. It seems to me that a hammer was used when a less heavy-handed approach still might have worked in the end. If the students had not prevailed, at least they could have taken solace and pride in their position and faith. Now, I wonder whether or not they will face (increased) anti-semitism both on the court and in their daily life.
Don't get me wrong! I believe in correcting injustice. But,as seems to be the feeling of their coach, Chris Cole, and headmaster, Harry Sinoff, a lawsuit was not the preferred road to travel.

What do you think? Send your comments to: ThoughtsPlus@JewsOnTheWeb.com

A Prayer 'Out Of Place'

This past week, the NY Times covered what has been an ongoing story in Rhode Island involving religion, the U.S. Constitution, the ACLU, and much heated debate and rhetoric.
The essence of the story is that a Cranston, RI student, Jessica Ahlquist, with the aid of the ACLU challenged an 8 foot tall prayer that has been in the Cranston West High School since the 1960's. - After much heated rhetoric, a judge has decreed that the prayer does in fact violate the U.S. Constitution. And, that it must be removed. The Cranston school committee is considering whether or no to appeal the decision. Meawile this tudent as been threatned and been called "evil" by even an area politician.

So with this serving as a thumbnail sketch of the facts, I would like to share some personal thoughts.

As a student growing up in a largely Roman Catholic state, there were, at the time, no days off for Jewish holidays. Christmas carols were frequently a school tradition. And, while some of this might have changed over the decades, prejudice remains a staple for some who are quite vocal.

Fast forward to the present, where some in public service have called Jessica, 'evil' or similar nasty & mean-spirited things.

I wonder how these same folks would react if the prayer that was displayed were Jewish, Buddhist, Muslim, or Hindu?

I would like to remind folks that the Baptist Minister, Francis Bellamy, wrote the Pledge of Allegiance, without any specific reference to God. When quesioned about this, he explained that the pledge was designed to unite people. And that religion was vey divisive. (We see this even in Israel where there are some Jews who shout similar epithets and evenobjects at Jewish women who do not dress or behave as they would wish that they did.) - It was only many, many decades later, in 1954, when the words 'under God' were added to the pledge.

Count me among those who do not believe that religious expression on the part of public, governmental entities is appropriate. For even within 1 faith, there can be many differences. - It is in your heart, your home, your place of worship, meeting places... that you can and should express your religion.

If you disagree (or even agree), drop me a line at Thoughts@JewsOnTheWeb.com

Jacob or Israel?
 by Prof. Gerald August

Jacob or Israel? Israel or Jacob? Which name is the real name of this son of Isaac and Rebecca?

Jacob wrestled with himself and was named Israel. The name change happened only after he overcame his will to run. A trait he exhibited with Laban and Esau. So he was given a name that means he had the power to struggle and overcome.

But look at the trials and tribulations Jacob went through after this episode. His daughter was raped. Think of his anguish and anger. He feared for the safety of his family after Shimon and Levi took revenge.

Then he witnessed the discord between Joseph and the rest of his sons. After sending Joseph to be with his brothers, he was told his favorite son was killed. His grief was such that Jacob said, “ I will mourn for him until I go into my grave.”

Immediately he loses another son. Judah leaves home for many years. Jacob never met his daughter-in-law or grandsons.

Then a famine struck the land. Returning from Egypt, his sons told him a ruler of Egypt demanded Benjamin, now his favorite, must come with them if they ever returned for food.

Jacob was a rich man. So what? He was constantly in crisis! What sorrow he suffered.

But now, it is the end of his life and he has overcome the struggles. He saw them through. He did not commit suicide. He did not crawl into a corner and cease functioning.

And now once again he is Israel. He has prevailed. He overcame the challenges life threw at him.

We are all potential Israels. We all have obstacles. They could be physical, mental, social or financial. And the challenge is to overcome them. And yes, to achieve our goals

We have to look at a situation and say, “This is what is. What do I do to handle this?

At each point in our life, when we emerge victorious, we too can award ourselves a new name. Israel.

But that Israel lived 3700 years ago. What about today? Who will be our role model today? My answer is…you!!

We have all have overcome problems. Think of school. Even if you were a good student, there were still goals to be met. After school, there were the challenges of the new job, a promotion, a difficult manager, or the loss of a position. If you are married, there may have been times that were tough. Or maybe, unfortunately there was a divorce. Relationships with friends and family may not always have been smooth. Yet you’re here today.

Think of four situations when you faced adversity. The time frame could be days or weeks or years. And you came out of it. Celebrate yourself. You went from a Jacob time to an Israel time.

Remember: sometimes YOU are your best role model.

Anger Management In Stressful Situations
- A Torah Perspective

By [http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Shira_Svei]Shira Svei

The Talmud states, "Anyone who gets angry, it's as if he worships idolatry."
A strange correlation.
Were the Talmud to teach, "Anyone who gets angry, it's as if he destroys an entire home," I would nod in understanding. Even "Anyone who obsesses over his money, it's as if he worships idolatry," makes sense. But, anger and idolatry? What's the connection?
The following scenario may shed some light on the Talmud's seemingly enigmatic statement:
Your anniversary is coming up and you decide to surprise your wife with tickets to a Broadway show followed by dinner in a fancy restaurant in the city. You have everything planned to the "T"! You even convince your sister-in-law, Lisa, to babysit. (Lisa tends to grate on you and can sometimes get you very angry. But, you're desperate and you really want this evening to be perfect!) The big night finally arrives and everything is set. You and your wife manage to slip out on time despite some very vociferous kid-launched protests. (They aren't particularly fond of Lisa either...) Its six o'clock  and you live a half hour from the city. Showtime is at eight -- more than enough time to make it to Midtown and perhaps even do some window shopping together...alone! You flash your wife a smile as you turn on the highway, secretly congratulating yourself on an evening perfectly executed. You are in control. You enter the Battery Tunnel, all the while enjoying your wife's consternation at being unable to guess which show you've chosen. And then...you hit traffic. No problem. This evening is about enjoying each other. Who cares if some of it is spent in a car, right? Fifteen minutes pass and there is no movement -- not an inch. You start to sweat a little but you're still confidant that this traffic jam can't last too much longer. Another fifteen minutes pass and you are still smack in the middle of the Battery Tunnel. Mildly irritated, you turn on the radio for the traffic report. "And to the folks stuck on the Battery, I hope that y'all are comfortable. There's been a five car accident at the entrance of the tunnel on the Manhattan bound side. Its going to take at least 2 hours to get this thing cleared up. Here's a little music to lighten your (click)." Your hand instinctively goes for the horn. Then, as your anxiety is mounting, you turn backwards, furious that those imbecile drivers behind you aren't attempting to exit the tunnel from the entrance. That's what anyone with any measure of intelligence would have done.That's what you would have done. So, thanks to some accident (probably careless drivers!) and some dimwits, you're stuck...and boy are you angry! Hello! Don't you all know who I am? Don't you realize that I have somewhere to be?
Evaluating this scenario objectively, most would probably agree that anger is not the appropriate response here. It's certainly not the most productive response. Even so, many people can likely relate to the anxiety and mounting frustration of the "you" in the story.
The question is -- Where is this feeling coming from? What is the root of this reaction?
The Answer: It comes from the way that you perceive yourself. You are the man in charge. When you make plans, you expect the ensuing results to be satisfactory. Now, if you're the one who runs the show and things are not going the way you planned, you are not happy, not happy at all.
"Anyone who gets angry, it's as if he worships idolatry." The Talmud teaches that when you get angry, you are effectively saying that you, and not G-d, are in control of everything that happens in your life.
Here is where you can do a paradigm shift. If you are a believer in G-d then you know that He controls everything that happens in this entire world, down to the most minute detail. He controls when you hit traffic and controls when you make every green light. A believer in G-d also knows that G-d knows what He's doing. By relinquishing your "control" to the One who is really in control, you free yourself from the anger that previously bound you. A situation that was once anxiety provoking is now just another friendly reminder that "someone else" is in charge.
You thought you were supposed to be at a Broadway show tonight. Apparently, He had other plans. Sometimes you will see His divine providence clearly. (There were many people who were very upset when they missed their 8:00 trains to the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11th, 2001.) Other times, you'll be left guessing. Either way, you can sit back and enjoy the ride because The Conductor knows the route well -- perhaps even better than you do.

Article Source: [http://EzineArticles.com/?Anger-Management-In-Stressful-Situations---A-Torah-Perspective&id=5057658] Anger Management In Stressful Situations - A Torah Perspective

Today’s Economy:  A Curse?  Or a Gift?
By Cantor Debbi

It’s inevitable.  Everywhere we turn, from morning through night, the media inundates us with messages of doom, despair, lack, shortage, and crisis.  The psychological effect of these messages can be devastating, because even when we’re not aware of it, our emotional vibration decreases every time we hear these messages.  Even for those of us who may have so far been fortunate enough to escape the most negative impact of today’s economy, we are surrounded by friends, co-workers, and family members who are certainly experiencing the crisis firsthand.

What are we to do?  
Well, I believe that life is meaningless – until we assign our own meaning to each situation.  Ever heard the expression “It is what it is”?  To me, that just means that what is happening is simply happening.  It is neither good, nor bad, until we give it that meaning ourselves. 

I’ve chosen to turn every negative message I hear today into a positive one.  First and foremost, I certainly try NOT to listen to the news as much as I possibly can, without attempting to crawl under a rock.  I select the types of news feeds I WANT to receive, and make sure that I begin each day with positive affirmations that set me on the proper course for the day.

But how can we possibly turn those negative messages into positive ones?  It isn’t easy, but I believe that if more people could concentrate on the positive, and follow some simple steps to increase our emotional vibration throughout the day, we just may make some headway into moving our economy – and ourselves, back into the positive side of life. 

First, and foremost – Remember that those things that matter most to us are free.  Reaching out and touching a family member, a friend, or even offering a smile to someone is completely free.  When I count my blessings, I begin with my children, continue to my parents and siblings, move on through the family tree, and then move on to my closest friends.  I am so thankful for the personal support network I have, and I have made a deal with them that unless there is an immediate crisis that needs to be dealt with, we will only exchange positive words of hope and optimism in our conversations.  I begin and end each day, thankful for the amazing relationships I have in my life. 

When I want to do something that costs money that either I cannot spend – or choose not to – I make the choice instead to do something that the universe has already provided me with – a walk on the beach, or in my neighborhood, a nearby park, or just to sit and meditate quietly, escaping the noise and chaos that I usually feel throughout the day.  It calms me, and makes me appreciate the gifts God has given me, that money just cannot buy.  I realize that a simpler life, with less choices brings me closer to nature, more in tune with myself, and closer to God. 

Since I am in the wedding industry, I see brides choosing to forego the large, lavish wedding celebrations, and instead, take their immediate family and friends to a beautiful tropical island location, which actually could save tens of thousands of dollars.  In exchange, they get to spend time with their closest family and friends, making memories they may never have been able to create otherwise, and truly sharing the beauty of the most meaningful event of their lives. More and more, people are choosing to simplify but enhance.  By making something smaller, and less costly, the intimacy of the time together becomes even more special. 

Yes, we made some bad choices over the last few years with our money, and many of us are paying for it today, but we have the power to turn things around.  I believe this economic crisis will lead us to focus more on family, spending time and reacquainting ourselves with people who matter in our lives.  We will be forced to be more creative about the way we spend our time.  Perhaps we might disconnect ourselves from computers and cell phones, and spend a bit more time listening to each other.  Perhaps we will begin to realize it is not what we have, but what we do with our souls that really counts in this life.

We can refuse to give negative meaning to the economic crisis.  We can be thankful that God has given us an opportunity to reconnect with ourselves, learn a new trade, help others less fortunate than ourselves, and grow personally as a result.  Last year, I moved out of the big house, sold all my furniture and most of my possessions, moved into a very small condo, and sent my last child to college.  I was clear with myself and my children about how I anticipated the economy to change our lives, but I made it a very positive message, not a negative one.  It gives me more time to go see my children, more control over my life, and allowed me to jump OFF the hamster wheel of a career I hated.  It allowed me to tap into my strengths, and turn them towards my career that brings me more joy than I have ever experienced in my entire life.  I am thankful that own LESS than I have ever owned before, because today- I am happier than ever.  I have more joy, more rewarding friendships and relationships with family members.  I am less stressed and more optimistic about what life holds, and I’m positive it is because I refused to allow the messages to have negative meaning in my life.  I truly believe, we are experiencing the greatest gift God has ever given us.  I pray you find peace with His gift.

Sanctity of Life and Sanctity of the Sabbath
By: Billy Kite

There is a question in the Talmud regarding the source that allows one to desecrate the Shabbos in order to save human life.
We will be focusing on one particular opinion taught to us in the Talmud. The Talmud was written almost 2000 years ago. It is mentioned according to one opinion in the Talmud, that the source from which we derive the law that sanctity of life, and therefore saving a life overrides the laws of Shabbos from the verse that teaches us the sanctity of Shabbos itself. The verse tells us as follows. We shall observe the Shabbos in order to perform the Shabbos throughout the generations. This teaches us that one should violate one Shabbos by saving a life so that the person whose life was saved may live to observe many Shabbosos. The implication from the Gemara is that if we know for certain that the person whose life is being saved will not live until the next Shabbos, one is forbidden to violate the Shabbos on his behalf.
The commentators question this theory from the Gemara that we learned earlier in Tractate Yoma 71, that states that we allow the Shabbos to be violated even if the person for whom the Shabbos is being violated will only live for a few hours.
It is worth noting that the Ohr HaChaim in Parashas Ki Sisa in verse 31:16 writes that we do not violate the Shabbos to save a life if the person will only live for a few more hours. The ruling of the Ohr HaChaim would appear to contradict the accepted law.
The Minchas Chinuch in mitzvah 32 resolves this issue by writing that we allow the laws of Shabbos to be violated to save the life of a person even for a few hours, if a rabbinical prohibition will be violated. It is therefore necessary to make the biblical prohibition into a rabbinic one, otherwise, we do not allow one to violate the Shabbos laws to save a life if it is only for a few hours. The verse quoted earlier which teaches us that one can violate the Shabbos laws to save ones life so that one will be able to observe many Shabbosos refers to violating biblical prohibitions.
The Minchas Chinuch concludes that the final halacha is that one can violate even the biblical prohibitions of Shabbos to save a life, even if the person whose life is being saved will only live for a few hours. This is based on the exposition of the Gemara that derives the source for saving a life on Shabbos and overriding the laws of Shabbos from the verse that states you shall guard My decrees and My laws that man shall carry out and by which he shall live.

About the Author - Billy Kite is a researcher writing on behalf of the source for Gemara Brochos - Shema Tefilla , classes, as well as Daf Yomi gemara, classes with Rabbi Avrohom Adler

(ArticlesBase SC #382663)
Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/ - Sanctity of Life and Sanctity of the Sabbath

The Concept of Love
By: zadok krouz
Dr. Zadok D. KrouzDD,DHL,PhD

"Love" is a term, which serves many functions; so much so that in many instances its usage lacks content. "Love" is a shout heard externally, a banner bandied about, which many people encircle and seek, but whichfew understand. Newspaper headlines continually project "unfounded hate" but never "unfounded love"? What of this love with its meaningful essence and character? And what of those persons who live such a love? On this, we hear nothing. And we may assume that the condition will not change so long as the slogan of love is presented as artificial jargon, rather then as as internal and essential value; or as a cosmetic and habitual motto, rather than as a fulfilling and multi-significant experience.
Thes research paper concerns itself with the concept "love" as it relates to humanity according to the following criteria:
(a its source, (b its character, and finally (c the way to embgody and express it, all according to the perception of Maimonides, may his name be remembered in Righteousness and Blessing. In accordance with the dictum in the Talmud saying, "Torah learning is greater when it leads to action, "let it be His Will that this treatment of the concept will be a steppingstone to achieve love in our thought, speech and actions.

A. THE SOURCE OF LOVE
Chapters 51 and 52 of Section 3 of Maimonides` THE GUIDE TO THE PERPLEXED discuss knowing the Almighty as the source from which the love of G-d, grows. We learn that the source of love is knowing G-d, and to acheeve it one must cling to the spiritual concept that is liarned in the comment, "Didn`t I explain to you that this is the intellect that abounds in us from the Holy One; it is the attachment" which which exists between us and Him? We understand the source of love as the concentration of man`s thought in G-d, or the knowledge of G-d.

Maimonides joins the religious ideal of attaining G-d as the source of love with the philosophic ideal of a life of reflection. True, the purpose of man is reflection, but the purpose of reflection reflects the source of love, the knowledge of G-d. However the fundamental questions are asked: What is love`s explanatin, and what is the meaning of the knowledge of G-d? And how can man, in general, arrive at the source of this knowledge as a prelude to love?
Regarding these questions, it is worthwhile consedering the central chapter of the system of descriptions, THE GUIDE, Section 1, Chapter 54. There, Maimonides relies on Moses, Our Rabbi, and says that he requested two wishes from the Almighty: one, "that He should show him His strength and His truth," that is, that G-d should reveal His might before him; and two, that G-d "should describe Himself to him." On these requests G-d replied to Moses that His might is incomprehensible, and His descriptions are His acts. It is impossible, then, to know G-d from the aspect of His might, although it is possible to know Him from the aspect of His acts. The descriptions of G-d which embody Him to us are discriptions of actions. Thus, all the descriptions of which the Almighty notified Moses were descriptive of actions: merceful, gracious, forbearing. The ways in which Moses requested their knowledge and by which he was notified of them were through awareness of His acts, may His name be blesed. The Sages called these acts "attributes" naming them collectively "The Thirteen Attributes." (XXXIV:6-7)
Knowing G-d as the source of love is even called by the name "the pure thought." This is learned from the words of Maimonides in THE GUIDE, Section, Chapter 21, "That the pure thought, according to it will be love; it is the essential knowledge of G-d Himself." This direct attachment of love to knowledge teaches that the essence of the idea love did not, according to Maimonides, include the psychological eddect and the emotional experience. The source of the love of G-d is practical, thoughtful and not emotional. (See GUIDE,III:54 "`And you will love your G-d with all your heart` means with all of the strength of your heart.") Essentially, Maimonides sought to free the love of G-d from its emotional content and to turn it into a pure achievement. This approach is expressed at the end of THE GUIDE.

B. THE NATURE OF LOVE
The nature of love is purposeful. This is expressed in the fifth chapter o Maimonides` EIGHT CHAPTERS: Man must activate all the strengths of his soul to know... and will place before him at all times one purpose, and it is the attaining of G-d, may He be blessed, according to the ablility of the person to know Him. And he will offer all his acts, movements, strengths and whatever else he has to arrive at this purpose, such that none of his acts will be vain acts, meaning an act that will not lead to this purpose.
Love bears the purposeful nature of similarity to G-d and walking in His path. This assumes the form of love of attainment whose essence is attachment to the love of G-d. Maimonides set forth the decree of Jeremiah, XIX:22-3
Do not praise the wise man for his wisdom and the strong for his strengtyh and the wealthy for understanding and knowing Me that I am The Almighty who does kindness, justice and generosity on earth, in which I delighted in G-d`s address.
Jeremiah does not stop with the words "understanding and knowing Me," and this that did not suffice him for the verse to expain, is that their attacnment alone, may He be blessed, is that which venerates perfection.
The nature of love is also ethical; meaning that attainment of the knowledge of G-d is, in effect, awareness of ethical G-dly characteristics. And furthermore, the purposeful nature, which is in love, is an ethica purpose of the life of man in general. It is knowledge, the knowledge of G-d, though the purpose of this knowledge itself is ethical. Rational perfection os a characteristic of the love of man for G-d, and ethical perfection is a characteristic of the love of G-d for man.
Also, we discover an entirely new picture of Maimonides` thought on man and the nature of man`s love of G-d: Man does not trek towards the love of G-d in a straight line, but in a circular line. The way is that of ethics and knowing G-d, though the path does not end at this point. It returns and is overturned: From knowing G-d there develops a return to the ethical attributes, and the ethical nature of the love of G-d is in the awareness of the G-dly attributed. This means that attaining G-d is essentially attaining His works. Maimonides continues, (GUIDE,III:24) "It is not appropriate to praise only for the attainment of the knowlidge of His ways and His descriptions." His acts being synonymous with His descriptions, we may therefore deduce that we must seek to know His acts in order to perform them. Again, the intention is to replicate the thirteen attributes in order that we may walk in their ways.
But, how is it possible that man will walk in the path of The Almighty? That is, how can man replicate G-d and imitate His deeds? How can we understand this characteristic of love, which is the very fruit of love? To resolve these questions, we must fundamentally distinguish between act and effect. In man, the act results from the spiritual effect, from some creation or quality within the soul, whereas the acts of G-d do not result from a spiritual characteristic or from any essence.
Maimonides stresses this in his discourse on the descriptions of the acts in general saying, (GUIDE, I: 54) "This matter is not one of attributes, but of deeds similar to the acts which come to us from the attributes." That is, the acts of G-d are similar to ours, but there is no comparison in the causes inducing the actions. The acts of G-d do not result from any effect or spiritual characteristic, but they are as if they result from effects. The appellations "graciousness" and "mercy" and "slow to anger" are not understook as G-d loves or pities (or even hates). The understanding is only that the acts resulting from G-d result as if from love, mercy or hate. Now the term replication is understood: This characteristic of love os the walking in the path of G-d, the imitation of His acts. There os no replication from the aspect of effects or spiritual charactersitics. The replication is not in the spiritual realm, but in deeds.
To summarize, the nature of love is intellectual rationalism, an act approaching truth, which is knowledge of G-d; the nature of love is purposedul and reflective, knowing G-d so that we may walk in His ways; and at a certain level, love bears an ethical character.

C. THE WAY TO EMBODY AND EXPRESS LOVE
Theapex of process-reflective devotion is nothing other than reflective exertion toward the awareness o G-d. Reflective awareness is a processs of absorbing a reflective abundance from G-d by means of the active intelligence. This turns the human intelligence into a bridge between G-d and man. This bridge is dependent on man alone, in his intelligence and in his concentration of his thought upon The Almighty. Therefore, in the strengthening of his intellect, man will come to the love of G-d.
This reflection, however, is not only the theoretical, philosophical intelligence; it is also bound to the internal emotion of man. Intelligence, according to Maimonides, (GUIDE,III:51) is not only rationalistic speculation; it includes the sphere of feelings and emotions.
At a certain plateau love no longer remains in anything other than the beloved, and this is termed by Maimonides (Ibid) with the appellation "desire." This love is already planted in the material of the desire in a way that perfects it, leading us to conclude that the true belief is the religion of love.
Man has a purpose, and it is the attainment of G-d. Man will attain G-d through his entire deeds. Moral and ethical conducts serve as a preparation and as a means for this purpose. Man will not arrive at the supreme purpose if he will not control his morality. If he will not restrain his desires, if he will not internally discipline himself, if he will not improve his understanding and will not strengthen his will, he will not arrive at the supreme ethical stratum.
In the YAD HAHAZAKAH, Maimonides explains, "The revered and fearful G-d commands to love and fear Him, as it is written, `and love your G-d, ` and it is also writtten, `The Lord your G-d you will fear. `" How is it possible to both love and fear Him? It is possible at the time when man will observe His acts and His marvelous creations and see in them His wisdom, which has no measure and no end. Maimonides states further, in the MISHNEA TORAH, (Book I, p.36) "The servant from love studies Torah and follows the Commandments and walks in the ways of the wise not cecause of something in the world, and not because he will otherwise see evil, and not in order to inherit good; but he does the truth because it is truth and resultantly ends favorably..." Then, man will love G-d with a great love, overflowing and mighty, such that his soul will be linked to the love of G-d, G-d as a unity, with all his deeds in the name of Heaven for the sake of the attainment of G-d and performance of the Commandments for their sake alone.

CONCLUSION
According to current and classical thought thought, love is an essential need of each and every indinidual, although the nature and purpose of love is sometimes misconstrued. The essential love is the love of G-d, and the way to achiece it is through the intellect. The ultimate effect o this process is the attainment of G-d and the doing of His Commandments. In closing, we cite the "blessing of love" (Recited in the morning prayer service before the SHMA) which, in for man and man`s love for G-d.

LOVE OF THE WORLD, OUR LOVE, OUR LORD, OUR G-D, YOU HAVE BESTOWED EXCEEDINGLY ABUNDANT COMPASSION ON US. OUR FATHER, OUR KING, IN YOUR GREAT NAME AND FOR THE SAKE OF OUR FATHERS WHO TRUSTED IN YOU, WHO TAUGHT THEM THE LAWS OF LIFE TO DO YOUR WILL WHOLEHEARTEDLY, THUS WILL YOU FAVOR AND TEACH US. OUR FATHER, THE MERCIFUL FATHER, HAVE COMPASSION ON US AND PLACE IN OUR HEARTS UNDERSTANDING, TO KNOW AND TO REASON, TO HEAR, TO LEARN AND TO TEACH, TO RUARD AND TO PERFORM, AND TO DO ALL WHICH YOUR TORAH TEACHES US WITH LOVE. ILLUMINATE OUR EYES WITH YOUR LAW, AND ATTACH OUR HEARTS UNTO YOUR COMMANDMENTS. UNITE OUR HEARTS TO LOVE AND TO FEAR YOUR NAME S THAT WE SHALL NEITHER SHAME NOR REPROACH NOR WAVER, FOREVER. FOR IN YOUR HOLY, FRAND, MIGHTY AND REVERED NAME, WE TRUSTED. WE SHALL REFOICE AND FEAST IN YOUR SALVATION. IN YOUR MERCY, G-D, OUR FATHER, AND YOUR MANY KINDNESSES, SO NOT ABANDON US EVER. BRING US SPEEDILY BLESSING AND PEACE...FOR YOU ACT WITH SALVATION AND CHOSE US FROM AMONG ALL PEOPLES, AND BROUGHT US TOGETHER, OUR KING, TO YOUR GREAT NAME, ALWAYS INTRUTH WITH LOVE, TO THANK YOU AND TO PROFESS YOUR UNITY WITH LOVE, AND TO LOVE YOUR NAME. BLESSED BE THOU.OUR LORD, WHO CHOOSES HISPEOPLE ISRAEL WITH LOVE.

(ArticlesBase SC #265377)
Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/ - The Concept of Love

TheJewish Attitude Towards
 Non-Violent Protest and Civil Disobedience

During the past twenty-five years, Israel has experienced a number of periods of civil unrest, including the evacuation from Sinai and Yamit, the War in Lebanon, the Oslo accords and, more recently, the security fence. These events have led to protests, civil disobedience, and refusal by soldiers to serve in certain areas or to fulfill certain duties.

This pattern is repeating itself now, as Israel prepares to withdraw from the Gaza strip and from four settlements in the West Bank in August. As this date draws closer, groups opposed to the Disengagement have escalated their rhetoric and their protest activities. They have encouraged soldiers and reservists to disobey orders, they have staged mass rallies, they have blocked traffic, and they have even thrown oil and nails on highways – leading to traffic accidents.

Some of those in favor of disengagement have expressed opposition to all of the above activities, saying that the majority has made a decision and the minority should not disobey orders, nor protest, nor engage in civil disobedience. I have stated elsewhere that Jewish law allows us to withdraw from the territories and I therefore am strongly in favor of the Disengagement.1 On the other hand, I believe that Jewish law and tradition allow Jews to disobey orders, protest and engage in civil disobedience, provided that these activities are non-violent and provided that the protestors are willing to suffer the consequences such as imprisonment.

I) The Jewish Attitude Towards Protest

In general, Jewish law and tradition have a positive attitude towards protest.

Genesis 18 contains Abraham's classic protest against what he perceived as Divine injustice. Would God wipe out Sodom if contains fifty or forty or thirty or twenty or ten tzaddikim among the guilty? “Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” (v. 25). A similar protest is uttered by Moses and Aaron in the portion of Korach (Numbers 16: 20-22). God says: “Stand back from this community that I may annihilate them in an instant!” Moses and Aaron fell on their faces, saying: “O God… when one man sins, will you be wrathful with the whole community?!”

The importance of protesting an injustice or a transgression is emphasized numerous times in rabbinic literature:2

Rav, R. Hanina, and R. Yohanan taught… Whoever can protest to his household and does not, is accountable [for the sins] of his household; if he could protest to his townspeople, he is accountable for their sins; if he could protest to the whole world, he is accountable for the whole world (Shabbat 54b).

The opponents of disengagement believe that their fellow Jews are committing a sin. I disagree, but l'shitatam , according to their approach, they should protest.

A similar idea is expressed in a midrash about the plan to enslave the Israelites (Shemot Rabbah 1:9, ed. Shinan, pp. 48-49 = Sotah 11a = Sanhedrin 106a): R. Hiyya bar Abba said in the name of R. Simai: There were three involved in that plan – Bilam, Job and Jethro:

Bilam who advised it - was slain;

Job who was silent - was afflicted with sufferings ;

Jethro who fled - [his descendants were rewarded].

In other words, those who see an injustice or crime who remain silent, will be punished by God.

The Exilarch was the supreme civil authority of the Jews of Babylonia:

R. Zera said to R. Simon: Did you rebuke those of the Exilarch's house? He replied: they will not take it from me. R. Zera said: Even so, you should rebuke them. (Shabbat 55a and cf. Tanhuma Tazria parag. 9).

Another famous Talmudic passage (Gittin 55b-56a) explains why Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans. It tells the story of a man in Jerusalem who loved Kamtza and hated Bar-Kamtza. He made a feast and, by mistake, his servant invited Bar-Kamtza. Bar-Kamtza offered to pay for the entire feast if he would let him stay. The man refused and threw him out. Bar-Kamtza said: “ Since the Sages sat here and did not protest… I will go slander the Jews to [Caesar]…”. In other words, according to this story, Jerusalem was destroyed because the Sages witnessed an injustice and did not protest.

Silence and lack of protest in the face of evil are also condemned by medieval moralists and philosophers. The Maharal of Prague (ca. 1525-1609) explained ( Netivot Olam , Netiv Hatochecha , end of Chapter 2, p. 194, translated by Kimelman, p. 41):

While a person may be individually pious, such good will pale in the face of the sin of not protesting against an emerging communal evil…such a pious person will be accountable for having been able to prevent it and did not…

A tzadik who remains quiet and passive is ultimately responsible for the communal evil which he could have and should have prevented.

This idea is stated even more forcefully by Orhot Zaddikim (Chapter 24, ed. Seymour Cohen, New York, 1969, p. 404), which was apparently written in fifteenth-century Germany:

If one could protest, but neither protests nor pays attention to the sinful acts, then it is akin to flattery, because the sinners think [to themselves]: since they are neither protesting nor reproaching us, all our deeds are good…

We also have a Talmudic story (Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 2:1 = Yerushalmi Horayot 3:1) which shows that one rabbi felt duty bound to rebuke a Jewish leader, even if it meant going to prison. Resh Lakish said that if a Nasi (Patriarch) sinned, he is flogged by a court of three. Rabi Yudan Nesiah - the Patriarch - issued a warrant for his arrest. Resh Lakish fled. In the end, they were reconciled through the intercession of R. Yohanan, but Resh Lakish said to R. Yudan: “Did you think that for fear of you I would stop [proclaiming] the teaching of God!”

Finally, there was a medieval Jewish custom mentioned in many sources which shows that medieval Jews used to protest an injustice in practice . This custom was called ikuv hatefilah or ikuv hakeriah or bitul hatamid (delaying the prayer, delaying the Torah reading or abolition of the daily offering). If a person felt that an injustice was perpetrated upon him by wealthy or violent people or by the community, he or she could interrupt the service before Barekhu or before the Torah service “until justice is done them”. This custom is mentioned frequently in the Cairo Genizah, in the Takkanot of Medieval Germany and even in the Shulhan Arukh.3

II) Civil Disobedience4

Civil disobedience was defined by Ghandi as follows:

He who resorts to civil disobedience obeys the laws of the state to which he belongs, not out of fear of sanctions, but because he considers them to be good for the welfare of society. But there come occasions, generally rare, when he considers certain laws to be so unjust as to render obedience to them a dishonor. He then openly and civilly breaks them and quietly suffers the penalty for their breach.5

We have many examples of Civil Disobedience in the Bible, Apocrypha and rabbinic literature.

If Joshua Chapter 2, we have an example of a non-Jew disobeying a non-Jewish king in order to help the Jewish people. The King of Jericho explicitly ordered Rahab the harlot to surrender the two Jewish spies whom she was harboring. She lied, saying that they had already left town. She helped them because she believed that God would give the country to the Israelites and she asked the spies to save her and her family. Rahab knew that she was breaking the law and was no doubt willing to risk the dire consequences.

Many of the stories in our classic sources involve Jews disobeying the anti-Jewish laws and decrees of non-Jewish rulers:

According to Exodus Chapter 1, the Hebrew midwives Shifra and Puah, fearing God, did not murder the newborn Jewish boys as commanded by the King of Egypt. Verse 21 states ambiguously “and he made them houses”. Rashbam (France, 12 th century) explained that Pharaoh made them houses “to guard them lest they go to [assist] the Israelite women giving birth”. In other words, Shifra and Puah were put under house arrest for refusing to murder the Jewish boys. They disobeyed the King and were willing to face the consequences.

In Esther Chapter 3, Mordechai refused to bow down to Haman; he apparently considered it a form of idol worship. He did this for many days and was clearly willing to face the consequences, which as we know, were dire.

In Esther Chapters 4-5, Esther was willing to risk death by going to see King Ahashverosh without being invited, in order to save her people.

In Daniel Chapter 3, King Nebuchadnezzar ordered everyone to bow down to his statue. Hanania, Mishael and Azaria refused to bow down, despite being threatened with death in a fiery furnace. They replied that God could save them from the fiery furnace and even if He does not, they will not worship the statue of gold. In other words, they too engaged in civil disobedience under pain of death.

In Daniel Chapter 6, Daniel's fellow ministers in Persia were jealous of him and sought his downfall. They convinced King Darius to issue a ban that whoever shall address a petition to any God or man besides Darius for the next thirty days shall be thrown into the lions' den. When Daniel learned that it had been put in writing, he went to his house to pray. The King made every effort not to arrest him, but Daniel continued to pray. In other words, Daniel engaged in civil disobedience even though he knew that the penalty was death.

According to I Macabbees 1: 44-64, Antiochus outlawed circumcision and ordered the Jews to eat impure foods. The women who circumcised their sons were murdered along with their children and many Jews were murdered for refusing to eat impure foods.

According to I Macabbees 2: 29-37, many of the rebels fled to caves in the desert, but would not fight on Shabbat. About 1,000 Jews were killed because they refused to fight on Shabbat.6

According to II Macabees 7:2 ff:, a mother and her seven sons were tortured and murdered because they refused to eat swine's flesh offered in sacrifice to pagan gods.7 According to IV Macabees 5-6, an elderly Jew named Elazar was murdered for the same reason.

An ancient example of mass non-violent civil disobedience is reported by Josephus (Antiquities 18, 8, 1 ff., parag. 257 ff., Loeb edition, Vol. IX, pp. 153 ff.) and Philo (The Embassy to Gaius, Loeb edition, Vol. 10, parag. 232 ff.). The Emperor Gaius Caligula (37-41 c.e.) decided to put his statue in the Temple in Jerusalem since he considered himself a god. He sent Petronius to Israel to carry out his order. When he arrived at Acco, Josephus reports:

But there came ten thousands of the Jews to Petronius at Ptolemais [=Acco] to offer their petitions to him that he would not compel them to violate the law of their forefathers. “But if,” they said, “your are wholly resolved to bring the statue and install it, then you must first kill us, and then do what you have resolved on. For while we are alive, we cannot permit such things as are forbidden by our law”…

Then Petronius came to them [at Tiberias]: “Will you then make war with Caesar, regardless of his great preparations for war and your own weakness?” They replied: “We will not by any means make war with Caesar, but we will die before we see our laws transgressed.” Then they threw themselves down on their faces and stretched out their throats and said that they were ready to be slain. And this they did for forty days, neglecting to till their soil, though this was the season which called for sowing. Thus they continued firm in their resolution and proposed to themselves to die willingly rather than see the statue dedicated.

Finally, we have many stories and halakhic discussions related to the Hadrianic persecutions (ca. 132-138 c.e.), when the Emperor Hadrian decreed against twenty-one mitzvot such as reading Torah in public, reciting the Shema, wearing tefillin, eating matzah, and circumcision - under penalty of death.8 Many rabbis and simple Jews died al kiddush hashem , for the sanctification of God's name, in order to fulfill these commandments. These many deaths led to a limitation of the commandments which require martyrdom. Sanhedrin 74a rules that, in general, a Jew should die al kiddush hashem only if forced to perform forbidden sexual relations, idol worship and murder in public. However, in a time of shemad , of general, religious persecution, a Jew should die rather than transgress any commandment. These rulings were codified by Maimonides ( Yesodei Torah 5: 1-4).

However, one could agrue that all of the above examples are totally irrelevant to civil disobedience in Israel today because:

1. they deal with persecution of Jews by non-Jewish kings;

2. they deal mostly with the cardinal sin of Judaism – idol worship;

3. the penalty in each case was death.

Therefore, if we want precedents for civil disobedience by Jews in a Jewish State, we need to find examples of Jews disobeying the laws or decrees of Jewish kings since a Jewish State, according to a number of important rabbis, has the same status as a Jewish king.9 Indeed there are at least four sources relevant to civil disobedience in Israel today:

1) I Kings 18: 3-4: King Ahab was considered by the bible to be a wicked king of Israel who worshipped idols and opposed Elijah the Prophet.

Ahab had summoned Obadiah, the steward of the palace. (Obadiah revered the Lord greatly. When Jezebel was killing off the prophets of the Lord, Obadiah had taken a hundred prophets and hidden them, fifty to a cave, and provided them with food and drink.) And Ahab said to Obadiah…

In other words, Obadiah feared the Lord more than he feared King Ahab and Queen Jezebel who were Jewish. He saved 100 prophets at the risk of his own life.10

2) I Samuel Chapters 21-22: David was on the run from King Saul and he and his men received provisions from Ahimelekh son of Ahitub and the men of Nov, the priestly city. Doeg the Edomite learns of this and informs King Saul, who summons Ahimelekh and the men of Nov. King Saul berates them (22:17):

And the king commanded the guards standing by: “Turn around and kill the priests of the Lord, for they are in league with David!”... But the king's servants would not raise a hand to strike down the priests of the Lord.

The Palestinian Talmud (Sanhedrin, Chapter 10, ed. Venice, fol. 29a) asks:

Who were those servants? R. Samuel son of R. Isaac said: they were Avner and Amasa. They said [to Saul]: “Do we owe you anything beyond this belt and mantle [= insignia of office]? Here, take them back!”11

According to this Midrash, the “servants” who refused King Saul's direct orders were not simply soldiers; they were Avner his Chief of Staff and Amasa, one of his generals. They refused to kill Ahimelekh and the Priests of Nov, either because they thought that the punishment was too severe or because they were afraid to kill Priests. They “resigned their commission” even though the penalty could have been death. They did not take up arms against King Saul; they simply refused to participate. In other words, they acknowledged that the king had the legal right to execute people, but they would not participate in that unjust or excessive punishment.

3) In addition to these two biblical stories, Maimonides discusses our issue in his Mishneh Torah (Laws of Kings 3:9):

A person who annuls the decree of a [Jewish] king because he was engaged in performing a mitzvah , even a minor mitzvah , he is not liable: the words of the master [= God] and the words of the servant [=the king] – the words of the master take precedence. And there is no need to say that if the king decreed to annul a mitzvah , one does not listen to him.

In other words, if a Jewish king decrees to annul a mitzvah , one should engage in civil disobedience and not listen to that decree. Maimonides, as usual, cites no source for his ruling. R. Yosef Karo in his Kesef Mishneh ad loc. refers to Sanhedrin 49a. In that Midrash, Avner says that he killed Amasa because the latter took more than three days to gather the men of Judah to go to war (II Samuel 20:4 ff.). King Solomon replies that Amasa delayed because he found the Israelites engaged in studying a tractate. In other words, God's command to the Jewish people to study Torah takes precedence over the King's command to gather the troops.

4) A similar opinion is found in Numbers Rabbah (Naso, 14:6), which was edited in the 12 th century, apparently in Provence:12

“I obey the king's orders” (Kohelet 8:2)… that you should not rebel against his command. Does this mean even if he tells you to transgress the words of God? Therefore it says “and uttering an oath by God” - the verse comes to inform you that the [utterance of God] takes precedence over the command of flesh and blood [=the King]…

In other words, according to Maimonides and Sanhedrin and Numbers Rabbah, if a Jewish king – or a Jewish State which has the halakhic status of a Jewish king – orders a Jew to desecrate the Sabbath or to eat pig or to transgress a commandment – the Jew should refuse, since the words of God take precedence over the words of the Jewish king or the Jewish State.

The religious opponents of disengagement say that an order to evacuate part of the territories has the exact same status as an order to desecrate the Sabbath. I strongly disagree . However, those who think so have biblical and halakhic precedent for engaging in civil disobedience.

III) Non – Violence

While it is clear that Jewish law and tradition have a positive attitude towards protest and civil disobedience, it is equally clear that such activities must be non-violent in nature. This is because one Jew is not allowed to strike or injure another Jew.

When Moses sees one Jew striking another in Egypt (Exodus 1:13), he says “ Rasha (=evil one), why do you hit your fellow!” and the midrash comments: “Rabbi Yitzhak said: from this you learn that whoever hits his fellow, is called a rasha ” ( Ginzey Schechter , Vol. I, p. 114). Similarly, Maimonides ruled that whoever hits his fellow Jew transgresses a negative commandment ( Hovel Umazik 5:1).

In conclusion, while I believe that disengagement is perfectly permissible according to Jewish law and tradition, I also believe that Jewish law and tradition permit non-violent protest and civil disobedience, provided that those who engage in these actions are willing to face the consequences of their actions.

May both sides on this divisive issue have the wisdom to treat each other with respect and to maintain the unity of the Jewish people without demanding uniformity.13

Notes

1. David Golinkin, Responsa in a Moment , Jerusalem, 2000, pp. 31-36, reprinted in my email column Insight Israel Vol. 5, No. 6, February 2005. For the opposing point of view, see Shochetman's entire book listed in the Bibliography at the end of this article.

2. This section is based on Kimelman.

3. S.D. Goitein, A Mediterranean Society , Vol. II, Berkeley-Los Angeles, 1971, pp. 169-170, 323-325; Louis Finkelstein, Jewish Self-Government in the Middle Ages , second edition, New York, 1964, pp. 15-18; Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 54:3. See Encyclopaedia Judaica , s.v. Bittul Hatamid, vol. 4, cols. 1061-1062 and especially Avraham Grossman, Milet 1 (1983), pp. 199-219. My thanks to Prof. Elhanan Reiner who reminded me to mention this topic.

4. This section is based primarily on Konvitz. I am including “refusal to obey orders” under civil disobedience because there is only one source on military disobedience – see below.

5. Mohandas K. Ghandi, Non-Violent Resistance , New York, 1961, p. 7, quoted by Konvitz, p. 246.

6. Matityahu and the Macabbees subsequently changed this law – see I Macabbees 2:38-40 and Chanoch Albeck, Shishah Sidrei Mishnah, Seder Moed , Jerusalem – Tel Aviv, 1952, p. 9.

7. For the parallels to this famous story, see Encyclopaedia Judaica s.v. Hannah and her Seven Sons, vol. 7, cols. 1270-1272 and Gerson Cohen, Studies in the Variety of Rabbinic Cultures , Philadelphia, 1991, pp. 39-60.

8. See Moshe David Herr, Scripta Hierosolymitana 23 (1972), pp. 85-125 and Saul Lieberman, Mehkirei Eretz Yisrael , Jerusalem, 1991, pp. 348-380.

9. See Responsa in a Moment (above, note 1), p. 91 and note 8 and Shochetman, pp. 103-104.

10. My thanks to Eitan Cooper of the Schechter Institute for referring me to this story.

11. Cf. Greenberg, p. 214 and the sources quoted by Korff, p. 12.

12. Hananel Mack, Teudah 11 (1996), pp. 91-105.

13. See David Golinkin in Naftali Rothenberg, ed., Pothim Shavua , Jerusalem, 2001, pp. 97-102.

Bibliography

 Nachum Amsel, The Jewish Encyclopedia of Moral and Ethical Issues , Northvale, New Jersey and London, 1994, pp. 43-45, 334-336, s.v. Civil Disobedience

Rabbi Paul Arberman, Sarvanut L'or Hahalakhah , final thesis, Schechter Rabbinical Seminary, 2002, 29 pages (unpublished)

Stuart Cohen, The Torah U-Madda Journal 12 (2004), pp. 13-15

“Day of Reckoning”, March 29, 2005, www.yom-pkuda.org

“ Dvar Hakibbutz Hadati ”, Amudim 688 (Kislev 5765), p. 3

Moshe Greenberg, “Rabbinic Reflections on Defying Illegal Orders” etc., in Marc Kellner, ed., Contemporary Jewish Ethics , New York, 1978, pp. 211-220

Rabbi Hayyim David Halevi, “What is the extent of the obligation to follow orders?” (Hebrew), Aseh Lekha Rav , Vol. 7, Tel Aviv, 1986, No. 68.

A. J. Heschel, “The Reasons for My Involvement in the Peace Movement”, in Susannah Heschel, ed., Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity , New York, 1996, pp. 224-226

Reuven Kimelman, “The Rabbinic Ethics of Protest”, Judaism 19/1 (Winter 1970), pp. 38-58

Milton R. Konvitz, “Conscience and Civil Disobedience in the Jewish Tradition”, in Marc Kellner ed., Contemporary Jewish Ethics , New York, 1978, pp. 239-254

Rabbi Samuel I. Korff, A Responsum on Questions of Conscience , Rabbinical Court of Justice, Boston, 1970, 54 pp. (unpublished. That court was headed by my grandfather Rabbi Mordechai Ya'akov Golinkin z”l.)

Rinah Lipis Shaskolsky, “Protest and Dissent in Jewish Tradition”, Judaism 19/1 (Winter 1970), pp. 15-29

Rabbi Yehudah Shaviv, “ Samkhuyot Hashilton V'hovat Hatziyut ”, Tehumin 15 (5755), pp. 118-131 and the literature listed ibid ., note 2

Yair Sheleg, The Political and Social Ramifications of Evacuating Settlements in Judea, Samaria and the Gaza Strip , Jerusalem, 2004, 157 pp.

Eliav Shochetman, Vaya'amideha L'ya'akov L'hok , second edition, Jerusalem, 1995, part II, pp. 67-157

Azriel Weinstein, “ Anahnu Omrim Shebashamayim Lo Rotzim ”, De'ot 19 (Winter 5765), pp. 35-37

Yehoshua Weinstein, Disobedience and Democracy (Hebrew), Jerusalem, 1998, 252 pp.

Prof. David Golinkin is the President of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem. Feel free to reprint this article in its entirety. If you wish to abbreviate the article, please contact Rabbi Golinkin at: golinklin@schechter.ac.il.

The opinions expressed here are the author’s and in no way reflect an official policy of the Schechter Institute.

The Dual Nature of the Torah
Religion Articles | July 30, 2008

Classical Judaism holds that there is a dual Torah, consisting of the Torah Sh'b'ktav (the Written Torah) and the Torah Sh'Ba'al Peh (the Oral Torah). Commandments derived from the written Torah are called "d'Oraita" from the Aramaic word meaning "from the Torah."
Traditional Judaism believes that there is a dual Torah, consisting of the Torah Sh'b'ktav (the Written Torah) and the Torah Sh'Ba'al Peh (the Oral Torah). Commandments or statutes derived from the written Torah are called "d'Oraita" from the Aramaic word meaning "from the Torah."
For classical Judaism, the Oral Torah consists of Oral Torah revealed simultaneously at Sinai as well as enactments or laws instituted by later rabbis (d'Rabbanan). The basis or authority for the laws classified as"d'Rabbanan" and for the implementation of the observance of the commandments is derived from Deuteronomy 17:8-11.
The rabbis claim that the authority to interpret the commandments and subsequently define (i.e. the way in which the commandments are observed) is found in the written Torah itself, where Moses states that any case or question too difficult for the Jewish people in future days should be brought before the priests and judges in office at that time.
To this day, the rabbis serve as judges and legislators akin to a court and a legislature. Rabbis are in fact dayanim (i.e. Judges). The written Torah serves as the constitution for Israel with the Oral Torah and the Rabbis serving as the legislative process. Like the Constitution of the United States, the actual implementation of its statutes, and future needed statutes are left to the Congress and the validity of those laws is left to the courts. The concept of a constitutional model for Torah law that "evolves" or is "pliable" allows it to remain relevant and applicable.
A Torah model that does not include this eventually creates a situation in which many biblical commandments cannot be observed, applied, or understood. Hence a community like the Karaites who argue that they follow only the Biblical text have almost reached the point of extinction, have isolated and in fact excluded themselves from the Jewish community by adopting different calendar and different laws. In the end they nevertheless created a body of their own "halachah"out of necessity in attempting to follow the written text.
The case or argument for the Oral Torah exists on two levels. On a basic level, the very necessity of Oral Torah can be established by looking at the text of the Torah itself.
The a Torah scroll is written only with consonants, without vocalization. Hence one word written in Hebrew can have multiple meanings. Hence, where the Hebrew text says "BNCH," one might render this as "Bonayich" "your Builders" or as "B'nayich" "your Children." This occurs quite often. Vowels marks were only added much later after the text was written and codified.
So even our very ability to read and understand the text is based upon an oral tradition which provides us with both the ability to pronounce the alphabet, to read, and most importantly understand the text.
The famous Hillel was approached by a non-Jew who desired to learn the Torah on the condition he would learn the written Torah only. He started teaching him the alef-bet and the next day changed the names of the letters and their pronunciation and the student was confused. He did this to prove a point!
The text is foundational but it is informed and understood only with the aid of the oral tradition.

Article Tags: Written Torah, Oral Torah
Source: Free Articles from ArticlesFactory.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jacob Lumbroso writes articles on history, foreign cultures, and Judaism. For more information on buying a Tallit or other Jewish symbols, visit http://www.judaicaquest.com

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COMMENTARIES Plus...

Estate Planning and Being Jewish:
Is There Really A Connection?

By Scott Feig, Esquire

Estate Planning and being Jewish. So, you ask, is there really a connection? Of course. But, it may make sense first to address each of these sometimes-amorphous and elusive questions in the following order: What is estate planning and what is being Jewish? Okay, let's be real. I don't think I can define for anyone what it means to be Jewish. In fact, even for myself, it seems to evolve at salient points in my life.

Nevertheless, it is likely that there is some common denominator that acts as a substrate to our being Jewish. And, it is this common substrate, despite our differing practices and observances, which influences many decisions during our lifetimes. And for the purpose of this article, the focus is our estate planning decisions.

To begin, it may make sense to first ask: "Do I have an estate?" Most likely, "Yes." Don't be fooled by those infamous scenes on T.V. programs, or movies, where the lawyer reads the Last Will and Testament of the deceased uncle to the surviving members of the family--each member on the edge of his/her seat wondering whether he/she was left the uncle's millions. In fact, often people believe that estate planning is for solely someone who owns multiple homes around the country and intends to leave multi-millions of dollars to his/her children, as well as to charity.

Yes, estate planning is crucial for someone who has accumulated wealth after a lifetime of hard work and desires to leave a legacy to his/her children (and possibly charity). Such prudent steps are crucial to minimize exposure to probate costs as well as minimize federal estate taxes, among other things.

However, it is a gross misconception to believe that estate planning is designed solely for this above scenario. The starting point for estate planning often begins with the following inquiry:

Do you have children or grandchildren, own a home (or pay a mortgage, which is a more accurate question), a car, jewelry, golf clubs, tools, a piano, a guitar, a business, like an LLC or an S-Corp? If so, then you likely need an estate plan. As for the more serious question:

Do any of your children or grandchildren have special needs? If so, then it is more than likely that you need an estate plan.

So, you ask, an estate plan, what will this do for me? Peace of mind knowing that you have taken prudent steps to ensure that your family will be well cared for and not burdened with the expense, frustration, and delay often associated when a person passes, or becomes incapacitated, without any estate plan in place. Your estate plan may be as simple as ensuring that your brother receives your '69 Camaro, your son receives your well cared for coin collection, and your daughter receives her great, great grandmother's solitaire engagement ring that your grandfather had given to her before he and she emigrated from Poland. Or, your estate plan may be more complex where you want to ensure that your special needs child will receive the property you have accumulated over a lifetime, as well as your investments, without threatening any government benefits your child will likely receive when he or she turns 18.

Next, then, the appropriate inquiry here is to ask: To what extent does being Jewish connect to our estate planning objectives? It depends. It cannot be ignored that Jews often define being Jewish on some sort of continuum, which includes, but is no way limited to, Chassidism, Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist. And, within every one of these branches of Judaism, many synagogues vary in practice and observance. And, within every one of these synagogues, we each ultimately practice Judaism to what is singularly personal.

As such, for some of us, it is unthinkable to drive on Shabbat. For others, we do not even think twice about driving out to the Spectrum or Fashion Island to meet up with family and friends for good food and fun on Friday nights. However, for these others, they could not fathom eating on Yom Kippur. And, yet, there are those of us who always drink a cup of hot coffee on Yom Kippur morning, but may shun at those who eat cheese on a burger. Then, there are those of us who will eat lobster, cheese burgers, and even pork, so long as it's done outside the home, or at least on a paper plate when inside our own kitchen. You see where this is all going. In the end, being Jewish is personal. Personal on the macro level, meaning which branch of Judaism with which we identify ourselves, as well as personal on the micro level. It is these personal expectations and aspirations which often guide many of our daily decisions. And, for the purpose of this article: our estate planning decisions.

The starting point for many of us is halakha, which is Jewish law, which is very complex. However, to paint a very simple picture for this article regarding such a very complex issue, strict observance with halakha may play out in the following manner: (I) the eldest son, not the daughter, inherits all of the father's estate; (ii) the wife does not inherit, but rather receives a fixed amount as provided for in the ketubah, or she is supported by the estate until, and if, she remarries; (iii) an autopsy is forbidden; (iv) cremation is forbidden; (v) donating organs is forbidden; and (vi) end-of-life physician-assisted lethal dose of drugs is forbidden.

However, as discussed above, our practice and observance is very personal. During life, in the very sad event we should become terminally ill with no chance of recovery, California will soon permit physician assisted suicide with the new End of Life Option Act. Despite strict observance of halakha, there are many of us who believe that the End of Life Option Act does not conflict with our own observance of Judaism. As such, we take the necessary steps to ensure that such wishes are incorporated into our advance health care directive (also known as power of attorney for health care decision). However, there are others who would shun at such an end-of-life-decision for being in direct contravention of halakha. But, these same others may deeply believe that it is a mitzvah to donate our organs when we pass. So, we take the necessary steps to ensure our organs are donated, whether for medical research and/or to be used by a person in need. Then, there are others who never really anticipated that our ketubah, or lack thereof, would carry out the passing of our property to our surviving spouse. So, we step up a trust to ensure that all of our property will pass to our spouse who survives us, then when he/she passes, the remainder of that property to be divided equally between our daughter and son, despite this not being the hierarchy set out in halakha.

Let's admit it. This article is way too short to address such a complex issue here. And, when religion is involved, the issues often do become complex.

However, the salient point that must not be ignored here is that planning for our possible, yet unfortunate incapacity, as well as our inevitable passing, should not be put on the back burner. And, as a Jew, such decisions are often guided by both our religious and secular beliefs, which are often so intertwined with each other, sometimes competing and sometimes working harmoniously.

Either way, there is no place for judgment here, by ourselves or by others. Our purpose for making these estate planning decisions is rooted in something very personal to us. In fact, sitting down with an attorney, contemplating, and taking the prudent steps of how our family will be cared for following our passing may be one of the most profound decisions carried out during our lifetimes.

Scott Feig is an estate law attorney at FEIG Law Firm in Irvine. He also serves on a number of legislative boards in Orange County, California. Scott also holds a master's degree in English and writes often about various legal topics.

Article Source: https://EzineArticles.com/expert/Scott_Feig,_Esq/2154157

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/9291822

How We Can Face The Future, Without Fear, Together

By Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks

Click here.

 

 

Watch this very relevant sermon byRabbi Angela Buchdahl
of Central Synagogue during a Yom Kippur service.

 

We Are Family: Rethinking Race in the Jewish Community

 

Click here.

 

 

What do you think of these videos?

This Jewish Man Is Fighting Racism
Within The Orthodox Community

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Oprah Meets a Black Hasidic Family |
Oprah's Next Chapter | Oprah Winfrey Network

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From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogElul 2: Act - Thinking about Mitzvot
as a kind of technology

Every year, my colleague, Rabbi Phyllis Sommer, offers bloggers a shared list of themes that, if followed, allow for some neat collections of thought pieces or images (the #ElulGram) to be found throughout the web on the same theme on the same day. While I seldom keep up with a daily post during this month, I'll be following the general flow of the themes above, and thank Phyllis for the connections that she helps us all make in the blogosphere. On Facebook or Twitter, just search for #BlogElul to see what others are writing.

Inspired by my teacher, Rabbi Irwin Kula, who has been thinking a great deal in recent years about disruptive innovations and how they might be reshaping Jewish experience in North America and beyond. I'd like to riff off of Phyllis' theme of day 2, 'Act' by introducing the notion that Mitzvot can be thought of as a kind of technology. It was Clay Shirky who, in talking about disruptive innovations, asked us to consider of whatever is the focus of our attention the question, 'what job does it do?' In one easy to grasp example that he offers, he considers the ways in which new technologies have changed the way that we consume music. From the gramophone which brought the sounds of live performances into the homes of listeners, to the rise of the cassette tape and the introduction of the portable cassette player and then the 'walkman', enabling us to carry our own music with us into the street and other spaces; from the CD player to the iPod, exponentially increasing how much music we could transport with us and how little space in our homes we would need to store it, to today's online streaming music services. As consumers, we have responded to each new technology that made listening to music, finding new music, and sharing music a little bit easier. In the process, companies that made old hardware had to either recreate themselves to offer the newer technology, or would find themselves out of business. When something came along that did the essential job better, cheaper, in a way that was more portable, offered more choice, etc. it became the next thing.

We can take Shirky's question, 'what job does it do?' And ask it of all kinds of things that we use or choose to do. If we accept his basic assumption, if it has a purpose, we will continue to use it or do the activity in question. Religion clearly does an important job for many people. For sure, we live at a time when more people than in the past are questioning that assumption, but the fact that so many of us are engaged in religious life, communities of faith, and ritual practices, suggest that these continue to do a job for us, as individuals and as a community. Exactly what that job is is a little more complex to define than the role of something that delivers music, and the answer may not be the same for everyone. Yet, as the societies and cultures that we live in continues to evolve and change, being able to look at our traditions through this lens can help us stay true to the essence of what Judaism is helping us do even if some of the outer forms (style of a service, choice of music, where rituals take place, the role of online communities, etc.) are changing.

In traditional verbiage, a mitzvah is a commandment. To young children, we sometimes say it is a good deed. But that doesn't really capture the full essence of mitzvah. Some of the acts that are commanded as Mitzvot are ethical in nature, but some don't come with an explanation in Torah or in rabbinical texts. What would it look like to take a list of Mitzvot and ask the question from a modern perspective, 'what job does it do?'. Rabbi Kula is thinking about a project that does exactly this. If we can demonstrate how a mitzvah deepens our awareness of the world, strengthens our relationships with others, enables us to have an experience that we might label holy or spiritual, provides a mechanism for taking care of the vulnerable and needy, brings mindful awareness to our engaging in ordinary, everyday things, and so on... We can begin to reframe the deep, deep value of some of the Mitzvot of our tradition. Mitzvah as a technology that we can use.... What mitzvah comes to mind that really speaks to you and helps to shape your sense of self, or sense of holy, or sense of obligation to another?

 

Jewish Life Learning Aboard The New York City Subway

By Alan D. Busch

I spotted him by his black Homburg as he ascended the steps of a New York City Subway station, a Hasidic Jew in his mid-fifties I would guess. "We'll be okay now," I remember comforting myself.

Yesterday was the first time my wife and I had ever ridden the New York Subway together. I wanted no part of it at first, but a persuasive combination of male ego and expensive cab rides broke down my resistance.

I felt validated, however, in all of the negative things I had ever believed about The Big Apple's "underground railroad" when I saw the disgusting untidiness of the Rector Street station with my own eyes: its urine scented ambiance, the frightening amount of structural rust underneath the stairs and the contemporary cro-Magnon woodcraft of the passenger benches stand out as my top three choices of its many noteworthy features.

Combine that with an almost paranoid vigilance about strangers within my comfort zone. That's when I fall back on two old rules of thumb: make no eye contact with anyone next to whom you wouldn't wish to sit in a million years and, when all else fails, ask another Jew or a police officer for assistance.

"Shalom aleichem."

"Aleichem shalom," he returned my greeting with a pleasant mien, as if to say: "I do not know you, but I see we are related." A smile goes such a long way, you know?

"I'm sorry but I'm from Toronto," he responded regretfully to my query about the best subway route to the Ed Sullivan Theater. (My wife had arranged for tickets to the David Letterman show, actually the last taping of the year.)

For several moments we stood pouring over this map, unable to crack its arcane code, when a helpful transit employee happened by and answered our questions. With that, this fellow went on about his business, but a warm feeling of having experienced a living breathing example of "Kol Yisrael arevim zeh le zeh" (Every Jew is responsible for his fellow Jew.) remained with me.

Now I'd like to unequivocally state that I do not have an aversion to non-Jews. In a nutshell, the only non-Jew I cannot and will not tolerate is an anti-Semite. Everybody else regardless of what they look like or beliefs they may hold-with which I would probably disagree-I can accept as long as they are decent "American law"-abiding people, but I draw the line at hatred and Jew haters especially.

Whether he is a "P'shate Yid" (a simple Jew) savoring the warm wholesome flavor of a bowl of yellow pea soup in the lunchroom of the Broadway Cafe at 150 Broadway or a "yeshiva bocher" partaking of the fine menu offerings at Tiberias, 45 East 34th Street, across from Yeshiva University, I enjoy the camaraderie of my coreligionists and will always choose them over anybody else, anytime, any place. It's a "no-brainer".

As a matter of fact, I know of no more dissimilar kosher restaurants than these two establishments which purport to do the same thing. Each prepares its own kosher menu specialties and complementary ambiance within which it feels its customers will best enjoy their meals.

Take the Broadway Cafe's spicy red vegetable rice (what your mother might call "stick to your ribs food") as an example. Delicious anywhere but since you're there, sit, enjoy.

(They say the ballpark hotdogs always taste better straight out of the vendor's steam box.)

So too with the Kamikazi sushi, a Tiberias favorite: a light, elegant delicacy beautifully presented and served with a flavorful threesome of sauces. Don't even think about serving it at The Broadway Cafe. The consequences could be dire! Remember, a place for everything and everything in its place.

The Tiberias, an upscale but reasonably priced eatery, owned and operated by two gracious Sfardi brothers is a place to which you would take your mother were she in town visiting you at Yeshiva University or that special someone you're intending for your mother to meet.

In contrast, The Broadway Kosher Cafe (to which one can gain access only by first descending twenty steps below street level) has never known, I would guess, the culinary or decorative touch of a woman, but your grandfather would enjoy its cafeteria serving style, paper plates, plastic soup bowls and card tables. My maternal grandpa, Harry Austin, may he rest in peace, had an insatiable love of split pea soup, would have been a regular in a place like this.

One reviewer commented that the place looked as if it hadn't been renovated since 1960. I'm still trying to decide if that observation which, by the way, is not untrue, is a criticism. Hey, you're in New York. it's all part of the charm.

There is a vibrant "diverse homogeneity" within Jewish life which recognizes the importance of legitimate differences, such as liturgical and cantorial variations in the prayer service, the countries where our grandparents were born, the languages they spoke, the foods they ate and the like. 

But then come the acts of kindness that are stored within every Jewish heart: the well wishes we received from the Tiberius brothers for a "Shabbat Shalom" or that little bit of extra effort one of the servers at the Broadway Cafe put forth on our behalf when he ran into the storage pantry to fetch two oil lamps left over from Chanukah after overhearing we hadn't any Shabbos candles.

So my friends, may each of you be as fortunate as we were to partake of the Broadway Cafe's red spicy rice and Tiberias's sushi and of their many other fine dishes as well.

Oh, and while doing so, remember to celebrate the unique individuality of every Jew, marvel at the diverse oneness of the Jewish people but above all else, never cease to be awestruck by the singularity of "HaShem Echad U'Shmo Echad".

Alan D. Busch
alandbusch@aol.com
Aboard Amtrak Train 49 Lake Shore Limited
December 26, 2010

Orthodox Jewish Women Rocking New York | DW News

Women in New York’s ultraorthodox Jewish community live secluded lives. They tend to have a lot of children at a young age. We look at an orthodox female rock band fighting for more freedom.

Click here for the video.

 

 

The Beirut and Paris Massacres

 

The massacres in both Beirut and Paris have left many of us numb.

Numb with disbelief. Numb from fear. Numb from the reality that we are always the possible target or 'collateral damage' of a terrorist.

 

There is truly no place on earth where we can be truly, 100% safe. However, if we do not stand united against terrorism, then we become complicit to some extent in deaths, which one must believe will come, again, at the hands of extremists.

 

The reality is that no one group has a monopoly on goodness. There is evil in every race, religion, orientation, and political party. That said, those of us who strive to treat others with respect and kindness must reach out to help the victims of cruelty and misguided zealousness. For if we do not, trite as it might sound, we become culpable, in part, the next time that someone commits such an action as we saw this past week in both Beirut and Paris.

 

Let this be the moment that you extend your hand to those in need. When you declare that however you choose to worship G_d or pledge allegiance to a cause, you will stand up for what is right.

Strength does not manifest itself in the number of weapons that we wave or possess. It comes from standing united against violence, hatred, and bigotry. For we are all, G_d's creations.

 

'Nuff said.

 

 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

After death... Holiness -
Reflections on the Parsha at the end of our CBS Israel Tour

Acharei mot - kedoshim - D'var Torah by Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz shared at Kehilat HaLev, Tel Aviv
Note: the parshiot in Israel are not currently aligned with those in the Diaspora because Diaspora Jews who observed 8 days of Pesach had a Passover Torah reading on the last day of Pesach when Israel had already returned to the Shabbat parsha. Israel and the Diaspora will realign again in a few weeks. This D'var Torah was based on the parsha being read last Shabbat in Israel.

This week has been an incredible week for our group in so many ways. We have experienced so much together and have been given glimpses of so many sides of Israel. To end here, this Shabbat, with you, experiencing new life in Reform Judaism here in Israel is very special.

This week is a double-Parsha: acharei mot-kedoshim.  after death, holiness.

This week we have been challenged to grapple with this juxtaposition in so many ways. After the Holocaust, the birth of the modern state of Israel. After Yom HaZikaron, Yom Ha'atzmaut. For one of our group, after the death of her mother in recent months, an act of great beauty to memorialize her here while we were traveling together. Yesterday, when we visited Derech Ben, we saw the beautiful community garden built by the parents and community of Ben in a moshav in Misgav, in memory of their son who died at age 24 in the second Lebanon war. Again, after the tragedy of death, holiness - an act of great beauty, remembrance and a place of connection for a whole community (and now also for us, with whom Ben's mother shared his story).

Our guide, Noam, asked us to think about and talk about the challenge of moving straight from Yom HaZikaron to Yom ha'atzmaut. It is clearly a very powerful transition but how is it for those who sit with the sorrow of a loved one who has died protecting Israel? Is it not jarring to move straight into celebration? Does it not feel forced? I suspect the answer to that question is as varied as the number of Israelis that you ask. Ben's mother felt that it was important for the country to have the two days together, even though she personally cannot shift into celebration on erev Yom Ha'atzmaut.

In our Parsha, Aaron remains silent. He is not given the time to mourn as the loss of two of his sons comes in the midst of the inaugural ritual performance of the priests and must continue.

I think of the tradition we have in Judaism that sorrow and joy are not to be mixed, leading to situations when a burial is delayed or shiva is not sat. I struggle with this too for the same reasons as Noam raised for those mourning on Yom HaZikaron. There is no logic to me in asking a family to abstain from mourning rituals because we are in designated 'happy times'. And yet I also understand why the community as a whole needs to embrace the joy to make those festivals meaningful.

Perhaps what we have here is the tension between the individual and communal need. Aaron needs to mourn but is not given time because he is in the midst of a communal moment. Yom HaZikaron shifts to Yom Ha'atzmaut because as a nation Israel must hold up the joy and blessing of its existence and successes, even while recognizing the losses and work that still needs to be done. Perhaps to live in Israel is to all the time feel that tension between the needs of the individual and the needs of the nation as a whole.

This does not negate the pain of the individual and their loss but, at a national level, the two days side by side ask us to accept a narrative where hope, rebirth and new possibilities follow from pain and loss. This is a very ancient Jewish narrative. And it is a very Israeli narrative.

Take, for example, the fast day of Tisha B'Av. Remembering the destruction of the temples and all the tragedies that followed for the Jewish people, there is a tradition that says that the Messiah will be born on the afternoon of Tisha B'v. As the day draws to a close, hope and faith in the future transform a history of loss into something constructive and forward-looking.

So, after death, hope and maybe joy. But what about kedoshim? Where does holiness fit in this narrative? The root meaning of this word is not really captured by the translation 'holiness'. Kadosh is about setting something apart for a special purpose. Shabbat is Kadosh because it is a day set apart. Kiddushin means set apart because it is the ceremony of marriage where we declare 'at mkudeshet li' meaning that this relationship is set apart as distinct and unique from all others in my life.

Acharei mot - kedoshim teaches us that all of the complexity that we struggle with - the sadness and loss, and the celebration of the State of Israel is because of the special relationship that we all have with it. Israel holds a place in the hearts of all Jews everywhere because we have set it apart as unique and special. Our guides have ensured that during this week we have experienced connection and relationship with many people through many experiences. Tonight we are grateful to have this opportunity to form a new and special relationship with a sister Reform congregation here in Israel.
Kedoshim holds for us the primary statement of this value - Love your neighbor as yourself - we move from loss and sadness as individuals, to connection with others in community through relationship. It is those relationships with the larger community and that sense of greater purpose that enables us to look to the future with hope. And this is why, I believe, that kedoshim follows acharei mot and Yom Ha'atzmaut follows Yom HaZikaron.

 

 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

What Noah can teach us about our response to Ebola

This is the drash that I shared at Congregation B'nai Shalom
this past Shabbat, parsha Noah.

 

While the story of Noah and the ark is often told as a charming children’s story, it is, of course, nothing of the sort. The idea that all life on our planet would be wiped out is quite horrifying. And, while Noah has our gratitude for ensuring the survival of the species and enabling life to begin again, later generations of commentators on our biblical story point out his flaws. He might have been ‘righteous in his generation’ but, they tell us, he would not have been considered so in future generations. Why not? Because, unlike Abraham, who argued with God for the survival of the evil cities of Sodom and Gemorrah if only 10 righteous people could be found living there, Noah dutifully saved his family and the animals he was instructed to collect, but did nothing to try and save the rest of humanity.

We know definitively that the story of Noah that we find in the Torah is a flood story but is not the flood story. It shares many similarities with other ancient myths about floods, including ones that predate the likely approximate timeframe of ours. So we’re not reading history here. Yet what our version introduces that is a variant on an older telling is a moral element.  The biblical telling emphasizes the destructive consequences of human immoral behavior. The rabbinic commentaries emphasize the morally deficient position of Noah who raises the drawbridge on the ark and closes his eyes to the rest of the world.

This past week I haven’t been able to stomach listening to US news channels for more than about 2 minutes at a time. Based on the wall-to-wall coverage, it would appear that the rest of the world has entirely disappeared. It might as well be underwater right now. We appear not to be able to see it at all. Instead, with highly charged, urgent voices,  news commentators seem to leading a nationwide panic attack that obsessively reviews every remote possibility that someone with the Ebola virus has appeared in our ark. Politicians are arguing that the drawbridge should be fully up, all entrance-ways sealed, so that we keep this pernicious disease out.

Where is the compassion for the awful suffering in parts of Africa? Where is the nationwide call for $10 per text, and all the other ways that international health organizations usually mobilize us to raise millions quickly so that we can provide equipment, expertise, and ensure that vaccinations work and are quickly produced to be made available abroad?

And, while the scale is serious and action does need to be taken in African countries that are most severely affected, when it comes to the US, where is our sense of proportion?  John Stewart got it right with his coverage earlier this month:

After a series of clips of politicians and commentators announcing that we should do ‘whatever it takes’ to seal up our borders and keep Ebola out, Stewart remarks: ‘Wow, what a difference in Africa-US travel policy 150 years makes!’ He then goes on to make the more serious point, through another series of clips that Heart Disease is the leading cause of death among Americans, killing 600,000 a year. And yet, when the government comes out with proposals to bring healthier eating to American citizens, control what is served to children in schools, and other forms of preventative care, many of the same voices tell us that the government shouldn’t be telling us what to eat or what we can do.  He points out that estimates are that between 7,000 and 17,000 lives a year could be saved if we expanded Medicaid so that more people had access to healthcare in our States. And 88 people die from gun violence every day. So clearly ‘the government should do whatever it takes to save American lives’, Stewart points out, seems to have more to do with things that might enter our country from other places, and we seem to be somewhat more laissez-faire when it comes to the large number of things that we could be doing each and every day to save American lives from causes that affect an exponentially larger number of citizens.

What can you or I do to make a difference? If we have the means, perhaps a donation to Medicin sans frontiers, who are putting medics into Ebola-affected communities in Africa to try and stem the spread of the disease and tend to the sick. Or via American Jewish World Service, who are directing funds to their partner organizations in Liberia who are trying to better educate people about how to limit the spread of the disease.

The Story of Noah is several thousand years old. 2000 years ago our early rabbis were pointing out that Noah could have done more to try and save others rather than only saving himself. Now it is 2014. Jewish tradition put morality at the heart of the Flood myth. There are many ways we can apply those moral values to life-threatening situations in today’s world. Creating panic over the airwaves is not one of them. So tune out the TV pundits and the politicians, and tune into some of the ways we can turn outward and give a helping hand to another human being who is drowning and need of our support.
 

All About the 613th Commandment in the Torah
 ANYA SH

The final commandment in the Torah, number 613 of 613 commandments, is the obligation of every Jew to write a Torah scroll. As the verse in Deuteronomy reads, "And now, write for yourselves this song, and teach it to the Children of Israel. Place it in their mouths, in order that this song will be for Me as a witness for the children of Israel."

Rashi and other commentaries, such as Ramban, understand the verse as referring to the portion of the Torah that immediately follows this verse, the portion of Ha'azinu. The Talmud teaches, however, that this verse refers to an obligation to write an entire Torah. Rambam explains that although the word "song" in the phrase indeed refers to the portion of Ha'azinu, due to the prohibition of writing a single portion of Torah on a scroll, it is understood that there is an obligation to write an entire Torah scroll.

On the day that he died, Moses fulfilled this commandment by writing (or completing) a Torah scroll. As it is relayed in the Bible, "And Moses wrote this song on that day, and taught it to the children of Israel…Moses finished writing the words of this Torah in a scroll, until their very completion."

This commandment is echoed in the command for a king to write a second Torah scroll in the book of Deuteronomy. This is understood to mean that in addition to the Torah scroll that he must write like every other Jew, a king must also write a second one which he will carry around with him and read from constantly.

In order to fulfill this 613th commandment, one is not actually obligated to write a Torah scroll himself. Rather, one may commission a scribe to do so for him. It is interesting to note that if one buys a ready-written Torah, one has not fulfilled his obligation to write a Torah scroll, unless he "fixes" at least one letter that was previously invalid. There are others who say that one can purchase the commandment of writing a Torah scroll through purchasing one but this is not the optimal way to fulfill the commandment.

In the case of one who fulfilled this commandment but the sold or lost his Torah scroll, he must write or commission the writing of a new one. There are those who say that this commandment cannot be fulfilled in partnership, whereas others disagree with this claim. Maimonides was of the opinion that women are not obliged in this commandment, which the Beit HaLevi explains as being due to the fact that women are exempt from studying Torah. Others question the ruling of Maimonides on this matter.

RABBI TERLINCHAMP:
WHY SYNAGOGUES NEED TO CHANGE!! - Part 1 of 2 Parts

By Temple Sholom Cincinnati

 

 www.youtube.com/v/0gahCkg0Fvc?version=3&hl=en_US
 

 

For some information regarding the current conflict which many people do not know or...

Reporters grapple with politics, erratic sources in reporting
Israeli/Gaza death toll

Celebrities Get Nasty Over Gaza And Israel

Jon Voight Blasts Penelope Cruz and Javier Bardem
For Middle East Conflict Letter

The controversial U.N. agency that found rockets in its Gaza schools

Why Hamas stores its weapons inside hospitals, mosques and schools

Israel must be permitted to crush Hamas

Israel Helps the World

 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Remembering Debbie Friedman: For All That is Good

Photo by Angela Gold

I was honored to be able to share some words about my teacher and friend, Debbie Friedman, at the 3rd Yarzheit Kumsitz program in her memory, held at HUC-JIR, New York this past Thursday evening.

There are many stories told in our tradition of students learning from their teachers. When Debbie started teaching at HUC I was already ordained and working in congregational life - my friendship and connection with Debbie begins in 1998, 5 years before I moved to the USA from London. 

But Debbie was also my teacher in the most profound sense highlighted by those stories of old; the teacher who communicates through their actions.

Debbie, as anyone who ever tried to plan a service or a class with her can tell you, did not teach with lesson plans and outlines. Her teaching came straight from her soul.

And I, like so many, learned most from Debbie by observing how she did her work in the world.

Traveling often with Debbie to Healing Services in Weschester in addition to regularly attending at the JCC in Manhattan, this is what I learned from Debbie about healing:

· Many different kinds of people came to a healing service. Some of them recovered from illnesses and surgeries, and some of them did not. Some of them carried years of emotional pain and loss. We call carry some piece within that is in need of healing.

· While not every one could be cured, Debbie brought some healing to them all. She did this by creating a holy vessel in space and time in which, for at least a while, they were lifted up, embraced, and reminded that they mattered; that their presence made a difference in the lives of others. She brought them laughter, and smiles, as well as cathartic tears.

· When the service was over, Debbie was eager to leave promptly. She said emphatically, ‘this is not about me. This is about each of them. I want them to connect with each other, not with me.’ And they did. We laughed together, cried together, celebrated together and mourned together. I made some of my first friends in this country at those services and am forever grateful to them.

Debbie’s rendering of the Mi Shebeirach is, of course, one of the singularly most transformative contemporary prayers that she gifted to us.

But that soul wisdom that she shared in all that she taught us about healing infuses another blessing that she transformed. While not yet so well known, Debbie’s rendition of the Birkat haGomel is equally transformative.

Traditionally, this is a blessing that is said upon recovering from a life-threatening illness or situation. After childbirth, after a car accident, once the cancer is in remission…

The traditional formulation consists of a statement made by the survivor who thanks God for bestowing goodness upon them, and a response by the congregation who prays that God continues to bestow such goodness.

Debbie transformed the experience and the meaning of this blessing. She did this by changing the emphasis of the blessing. While she offers us names for God that describe the things we hope and wish for – Creator of Miracles, Mercy and Life; Protector, Healer – Debbie’s prayer asks us to focus on three words, over and over again: Kol tov Selah. Kol tov – all that is good. Selah – pause and consider.

But not, in fact, to pause and consider how we were saved. That is not Debbie’s prayer. ‘Give thanks for all that is good.’

For what we have is this moment, this hour, this day.

We’ve just lived through an experience that reminded us that we might not have been present in this moment. So we have a blessing to help us to pause and to remind us, literally, to stop and smell the roses. To recognize the blessings.

When we are able to do this it helps us to banish the feelings of fear that can arise and incapacitate us. We are less likely to feel alienated and alone, and more likely to feel connected with the people around us. When we can pause and appreciate the good, even in the midst of illness or loss, we are uplifted if only for a brief moment and, in that moment, we also experience a little bit of healing.

Debbie didn’t call this blessing, Birkat haGomel.

The title that you will find in the new anthology is the one she gave it – ‘For all that is good.’

Thank you, Debbie, for teaching us. Through the Torah that poured out of your very soul you taught us how to connect, how to renew the spirit, how to recognize and appreciate the good that is before us, moment by moment, and how we can bring healing to each other.

 

 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

How do you read a survey about the Jews? Re-framing Pew

This piece is based on a sermon given at Congregation B'nai Shalom last Shabbat.

Last week the Pew Research Center on Religion and Public Life released their study on Jewish American life.  In the days since its release, I have read dozens of articles and blog pieces commenting on their results. I’ve even written one myself that got a lot of attention at myjewishlearning.com which I shared on our facebook page over the weekend.

Jewish professionals are poring over the details and offering their own spins on the data. But the rest of us are just getting on with living our lives; lives that incorporate and reflect our Jewish identities and values, and many other facets of our identities all at the same time.  Many Jewish professionals are hand-wringing and angst-dwelling. Most Jews are just doing what they were doing last week and the week before – living their lives.

So, perhaps it is useful to share some of the statistics that, while probably not surprising, are worth presenting, just so you know what all the fuss is all about.  Here are just a few of the stats that have been quoted in many reviews of the report - selectively citing these kinds of figures, without deeper analysis or framing, is why we are hearing a lot of angst this week about the results.

For example, 88% of those surveyed identified themselves as Jewish both in terms of religious and cultural identity. But 22% identified themselves as culturally or ethnically Jewish, but not religiously identified that way.  And when you break down the numbers by age, 32% of those born after 1980 identify as Jewish but with no religion. Whereas 90% of those who identify their religion as Jewish are raising their children as Jews, 2/3rds of those who identify as Jews of no religion are not raising their children with any kind of Jewish identity, religious or cultural. The rate of intermarriage has risen, and this is more prevalent (considerably more so) among Jews of no religion.

In terms of Jewish denomination, we do see Reform being the largest group in the US, but the Reform numbers reported in the survey are enlarged by those who don’t belong to any kind of community but use the label ‘Reform’ to identify themselves.  Looking at those who have switched denomination during their lifetimes, the Reform movement has also been the largest recipient of those who grew up Conservative and even Orthodox.  However, we also see many figures that demonstrate that Reform Jews are less Jewishly engaged than those who identify as Conservative or Orthodox on a wide range of measures. At this point in time, only about 1/3^rd of Jews who identify as Reform belong to Reform synagogues (stats from other studies in the recent past suggest that, over their lifetime, as many as 70 or 80% might below to a synagogue for a while). Reform Jews are more likely to have non-Jewish friends and spend less time in Jewish communal activities.

There are a ton more detailed stats available in this extensive report, and I highly recommend going to the Pew Forum website to review the information for yourself. Tonight I don’t want to overload you with figures. Instead I want to suggest a framing for the data that we can all read if we choose to.

In my earlier blog article I highlighted two key ideas that must be held in mind whenever we look at statistics. For those who don’t know, my PhD was in sociology with a specialist focus in research methods, so I know one or two things about this subject. The first is that correlation and causation are not the same thing. I had a phone call from a gentleman in Worcester the day that the survey came out. I thought it might be a journalist looking for a rabbi’s response, but it turned out to be a concerned citizen who wanted to express his concern for the damage that interfaith marriage was doing to the Jewish community.  Here’s the thing. It is one thing to note that individuals who hold certain kinds of views, and who believe certain kinds of things are more likely to marry a non-Jew. That’s a correlation and the stats bear that out. But it is quite another thing to state that interfaith marriage causes someone to be less engaged with the Jewish community. Ask about 35% of our congregation if that is true. Their own lives, choices, and families who we are blessed to count among our active, dedicated Jewish community will tell a different story. What is absolutely wonderful is how many interfaith couples are choosing to raise Jewish children - many more than earlier surveys and assumptions would have predicted.  We change the reality every day by the choices we make and the way we, as a community, respond.

Likewise, it is not choosing to identify as Reform that makes one less involved in Jewish learning, activity, and community. There are many of us – many of you here – who believe in and care about Jewish community and Jewish traditions, and they enrich your lives and you enrich your Jewish community. But there are also many Jews who claim the label ‘Reform’ as code for their relative lack of engagement in Jewish life and practice. How should we regard this information? We could moan about the challenge of creating an intensely connected community when a substantial group who choose to travel with us for some period of time seem to be comfortable remaining on the periphery. Or we could recognize the incredible blessing of the open tent, inclusive nature of a Reform congregation that makes it easier for more people to step through the door, feel welcomed, and the opportunity we have each time one more family does so to share what is beautiful and meaningful about Jewish spiritual life with them.  We might celebrate the fact that we have a 'brand' that is appealing and inclusive enough that so many people feel comfortable claiming it as part of their identity! Of course we don’t find those Jews in Orthodox communities – they’ve already been excluded, or assumed they would be excluded and, often, written off.

The other thing that I highlighted in my earlier blog piece was the information shared by the Pew researchers that noted that the patterns of religious and non-religious identity, affiliation and non-affiliation, very closely aligned with research conducted last year about American society in general. In other words, the younger generation in the USA are likely to answer ‘none’ to the question of what religion they identify with in about the same proportions as Jews of the same age are likely to identify as being of no religion. And what that phrase actually means is incredibly complex and multi-faceted - the statistics won't enlighten us as to that meaning - that requires a different kind of inquiry and conversation.

 

So what are we to make of all of these statistics? Are we to be concerned that, based on these figures and projected trajectories, we are likely to be a less religiously identified and organizationally participating Jewish community in the coming years (thinking here only about current manifestations of Jewish organization; who knows what new entities will be created in coming years)? Well, there may be a reality to that which will see change in the number and nature of the Jewish institutions our community supports. But, whether that is true or not, what do these results really mean, and what should we, if anything, be doing, in response to them?

Here’s where the frame comes in.  First of all, the report concluded that there were a much larger number of Jewish in the USA than previous studies. Perhaps 1 million or more extra. One of the reasons for this is because the study allowed people answering the survey to self-define and self-identify their Jewishness. What this means is that a large number of those who called themselves Jews of no religion would most likely, in previous decades, not have been counted at all. Our own children, if you ask them, will tell you that they have school friends who identify as ‘half Jewish’ because they have one Jewish parent. Perhaps they go to family for a Passover meal. Maybe they light a menorah. Maybe they do absolutely nothing of a religious nature at all. Yet they are aware of their family background and choose to claim the part that is Jewish as their own. Think back to your childhoods – who would have, if they didn’t have to, choose to identify themselves with the Jewish people?  It wasn’t cool to be Jewish. Now it is. That’s as clear a sign as any that we’ve made it in American society. Yes, assimilation is also a fact of life when we’ve been so entirely absorbed and integrated into a host society (in a matter of 3 or 4 generations). But Jewish is now something that doesn’t only live in the private home or the synagogue – it lives everywhere. That is wonderful, and there is incredible opportunity in this if we take the time to understand what it means and respond to it.

So yes, that makes life for institutions like synagogues a bit more complicated. While there are still plenty of people who understand the way a congregation can provide a structure and vessel for their Jewish expression and experience, for those who don’t identify as of the Jewish religion, the synagogue, as usually conceived, doesn’t appear to have much to offer them as a vehicle for their Jewishness. So they go to film festivals, watch Jon Stewart, and take note of Jewish stories that come across their face book feed, but we don’t reach these Jews because we’re not hanging out in the same part of the cultural landscape that they are.  There’s a lot of debate as to whether synagogues need to reinvent themselves or stretch themselves to start showing up in different kinds of places and in different kinds of ways. Or whether we accept that a smaller % of Jews in America will continue to connect with synagogues, and we should let other projects and organizations specialize in working in those other spaces.

As you probably know, I’m more of a hybrid kind of gal. I believe in the mission and purpose of synagogue life, but I also believe in porous borders, in being a hub but providing enriching Jewish opportunities in the greater community, and shifting the overall balance and emphasis of what we do together as a congregational community so as to speak to the full diversity of Jewish families in our midst.  We’re only just beginning, but we’re already making changes in this direction at Congregation B'nai Shalom.  

There is so much more to be said about the rich data available from the Pew research. But a sermon slot doesn’t permit that kind of depth in one, short presentation. But I want to come back to the framing of the information we are absorbing. Just as we can understand the expansion of those who choose ‘Jewish’ as any part of their identification label as positive, even while it is challenging us, so we can choose how we label the shifting patterns of Jewish life that we see unfolding in the data. If we label some of the findings as ‘problems’ there is a suggestion that these are things to be solved. I don't know about you, but I personally am inclined to tune out if someone labels me just living my life as 'a problem.' When 'official' voices of the Jewish community say this about others who proudly identity as Jews, whatever that means to them, they risk simply making the organizations that they represent irrelevant to the very people that they seek to change.

I also don’t believe that we Jews, and our structures, organizations, and synagogues, that engage about 1/3^rd of the 2% of the US population that is Jewish, have the power to change the tide of cultural shifts that shape 100% of American society, of which we are such a tiny component.  I believe our job is to know what those changing tides are, to do our best to understand them, to ask ourselves whether we have the ability to respond to them by changing what we do or how we do it. Sometimes the answer will be ‘yes’. Sometimes the answer will be ‘no’ and new organizations and ideas will surface from new places that meet needs that older institutions are unable to meet. That’s just the way it is.

What we can do, if we believe in the purpose and meaning of a rich and full congregational life, is do all we can to sustain and enliven it with our own selves. Through our investment of time and resources, through our commitment to creating an environment where we passionately share our love of Jewish life with our children, where we teach them how to make space for Jewish living in a world with so many competing demands, where we recognize that we are the carriers of ancient culture ever evolving in which we seek and find meaning, spirituality, social justice, and love for one another… These and more are the ways that we, if we care about these facts and figures, and want to do our part to make Jewish life in America vibrant, will continue to make it so by our own choices and our own deeds. It’s not about the Rabbis. It’s not about the synagogues. It’s not about the Federations. It’s not about the Jewish film festivals. These are the vessels – the places and the networks. But it’s about you, and you, and you, and me. Each of us doing Jewish and being Jewish in all of its multifaceted forms. Doing and being together. And it is rich, it is varied, and it is exciting.  So lets stop angsting and just get doing.

 

 

 From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

 

If We Could See Inside Other People's Hearts

 

 www.youtube.com/v/HcvA2pdpuSU?hl=en_US

One of the most powerful and thought-provoking sermons I ever heard was delivered by a friend while we were students at Hebrew Union College. It was her 'Senior Sermon' - the sermon we all give before we graduate in one of the weekday services at the college. She shared an experience she'd had on the train during her commute into the city. One day there was a passenger seated nearby whose music was playing objectionably loudly through his headphones. It was clearly a distraction to all seated nearby, but no-one was doing anything. My friend politely tapped the man on the shoulder and asked if he wouldn't mind turning down the music a bit. He responded furiously, cursing her and telling her to 'watch it', threatening to make trouble for her when they left the train.  She was terrified and unsure what to do next.  No-one nearby on the train spoke up or came to her aid. She'd recently been reading the book 'Tuesdays with Morrie' by Mitch Albom, a book that I drew from just this past Friday for a creative service where Morrie's words inspired us to do our own spiritual preparations for the High Holydays.

'What would Morrie do?' she asked herself. A little further into the trip, before they reached their destination and departed, she saw that she had an opportunity to speak to the man again. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't realize how much your music meant to you.' The anger in his face dissipated. He started to tell her that he'd lost everything - his girlfriend, his job... his music was all he had left. In that brief moment he felt seen by someone who cared about him more than they cared about the volume on his iPod. They both left the train in peace. The moment was brief, but there was no question that it was transformative for both of them.

The powerful video above asks us to contemplate how much we don't know about people. What would it take to uncover just a little of what lies beneath the surface? In the context of community, how transformative could that be?

 

 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Reaching for holiness after death:
Torah wisdom after Boston and Texas

D'var Torah given at Congregation B'nai Shalom, Westborough, MA, this past Shabbat.

After the death… you will be holy. That is the meaning of the opening phrases of the two parshiot allocated to this Shabbat. The timing is somewhat uncanny given the unfolding of events in Boston these past 24 hours. Two of Aaron’s sons commit an act that is displeasing to God – in their case it is a ritual act and nothing as horrific as the act of terror committed by two brothers at the Boston Marathon. In the Torah story, both brothers die in the explosion that is a result of their behavior.

At the beginning of the next parsha, Kedoshim, God tells Moses to speak to the people and tell them, ‘You shall be holy, because I the Eternal your God am holy.’ What follows are a set of laws that begin with our relationship with our parents, moves on to reminders to keep far from idolatry, but then primarily focus on providing the kind of social structures that will enable us to preserve relationships with others in our community, built on lovingkindness and mutual respect. And, even as we are told to do justice, we are reminded, ‘do not hate your brother in your heart.’ Yes to justice, yes to rebuking someone when they do wrong, but we must not take vengeance. We must love our neighbor as ourselves.

Earlier this week I posted a blog on myjewishlearning.com in which I shared my sense of anger. It was partly in response to a slew of prayers that other colleagues had written and were sharing on line. Loving, gentle words; words that expressed sorrow and loss, yet hope and inspiration too. Thoroughly appropriate prayers. Prayers like the one we will hear tonight when we pray for healing. Some of our local town churches called mid-week prayer circles together. I’ll be honest. I didn’t much feel like praying. Perhaps it was partly because I, personally, don’t pray to a God that does or does not do something that brings about or fails to prevent these kinds of human-driven evils. I didn’t want to bring God into this picture of terrorism or, for that matter, the terrible images from Texas in the wake of the explosion at a fertilizer factory.

But our ancestors responsible for compiling the text of our Torah were inspired by a sense that we human beings, made in God’s image, could emulate God’s holiness by living according to a code of values and practices. In that sense, whether we believe in a God who literally speaks the commandments to Moses as portrayed or not, we can understand that our people spoke words that were understood as a response to God’s revelation. A deep sense that God’s presence can be revealed at any time and place when we tune in to our highest, holiest selves and choose to act inspired by that sense, rather than react based on fear, anger or despair.

It is very easy to respond from that lower place; all we need do is unleash the energy of our raw emotions. Rev Paul Raushenbush, writing in the Huffington Post Religion pages earlier this week, articulates the difference between Holy Anger and demonic anger; not literally demons, but those raw emotions that can unleash vengeful and destructive acts. Holy Anger, however, is that sense of outrage that human beings commit these acts and take away the lives and futures of others with such randomness and disregard for the value of another human life. But instead of lashing out, as a group of men in the Bronx did this week to the first Muslim they came across, we channel our anger into energy that we intentionally direct to countering hate with love. We counter those who would disregard the value of another human life by acting in ways that honors those lives, treats others with respect, and fosters more love and understanding between us.

And that, I believe, is the message of Kedoshim. We channel our energy in ways that lifts us up as a community and as individuals, to our highest image of ourselves. We respond to death and darkness with lovingkindess and light. I’ve heard the media tell us this week that we are ‘resilient’. I worry, sometimes, that this word might be interchangeable with ‘desensitized.’ But if we are choosing to respond to the negative and evil that would seek to poison our society in a way that makes us truly worthy of the label ‘holy’ then, indeed, we are resilient in the true sense of the word. And, understood through the lens of our ancestor’s response to the call of Revelation, we draw a little closer to the purity of the powerful life-giving energy that I choose to call God.

Hareini m'kabel alai et mitzvat haBoreh v'ahavta l'reicha kamocha, l'reicha kamocha

Here I am, ready to take upon myself the commandment of the Creator, to love your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18; lyric from Sheva).

 

 

 From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Entering 'The Ritual Lab': the purpose of creative services

During my first year with a new congregation, I’ve been offering a creative service slot once a month. Borrowing the term from Rabbi Hayyim Herring’s book, ‘Tomorrow’s Synagogues Today’, our ‘Ritual Lab’ Shabbat lets congregants know to come expecting the unexpected for that particular service. Over the course of the year, some services have been more experimental in format than others – more or less similar to the flow and musical styles of our regular Shabbat worship – but each have had a specific goal in mind.

My ‘training’, such as it was, for shaping these creative services came from the Jewish Renewal movement, having spent many years praying with these communities and creating prayer services in that context prior to my formal rabbinic studies. There, one of the terms coined is ‘interpretive davenning‘ – a way of entering the prayer experience in an interpretive mode so that there is a sense of narrative and conscious spiritual journeying that accompanies the flow from one prayer in our liturgy to the next. Different modes may be explored to accompany particular prayers in a way that helps to peel back the layers of history, poetry, and other aspects of meaning found in each prayer. Each of these modes helps to uncover something of the meaning of the prayer, or highlights an aspect of personal spiritual reflection that a prayer might help to highlight. Sometimes it is the mind that is engaged, and sometimes it is something more experiential that helps us see the words of prayer as vehicles for getting beyond words; in many ways this can be the deepest experience of prayer. Such modes can include meditation chanting, movement, dance, study/discussion of a prayer text in pairs, juxtaposing traditional prayers with other kinds of texts to create new readings and meanings, and more.

I so often hear congregants say that the words of our traditional liturgy get in the way of being able to find spirituality in the Jewish communal prayer experience.This is partially because we lack the tools in our spiritual toolbox to unpack the layers of meaning and possibility found in those prayers. But it is also because the sheer amount of words can be overwhelming so that we cannot possibly derive significant meaning from all of them in every service. Of course, not everyone enters into prayer with this expectation – for those who pray in a more traditional mode, it is the overall ritual and rhythm of the familiar prayers that provide the vessel for taking time out to enter into a different mode that is the primary experience. But for many Jews, and certainly in what has been, historically, the more rationally-focused Reform movement’s approach to prayer, the perceived lack of meaning gets in the way for many individuals seeking a spiritual practice that truly touches and transforms them.

In our ‘Ritual Lab’ services, typically two things happen simultaneously; the prayer service becomes a vehicle through which we can attach a learning experience on an infinite number of topics and, at the same time, the materials or experiences we weave into the service brings a new sense of meaning to the individual prayers that have always been there. The next time we pray our way through our traditional liturgy, we bring the insights from these interpretive experiences with us, and they forever change our understanding of and relationship to these traditional prayers.

So, for example, the Shabbat of Thanksgiving weekend, we held a drumming worship service, juxtaposing insights from Native American spiritual traditions with Jewish ideas and writings that resonated with similar insights. During Pesach we held a ‘Song of Songs Shabbat’ that raised awareness of the Song of Songs being read at Pesach, introduced Jewish mantra chanting into the worship experience, explored the mystical roots of Kabbalat Shabbat and the connections to Song of Songs, and highlighted the nature imagery in our traditional prayers and our own spiritual experiences in nature. Sometimes I’ve been intentionally provocative. For example, there is great ambivalence in the Jewish world about acknowledging Halloween in any way in our Jewish community. I personally don’t feel that this is a useful battle to pursue, given the place of this day in American popular culture and the families and children who delight in the modern expressions of dressing up and going trick-or-treating. Instead, the Friday night closest to Halloween became a time to weave teachings about Ghosts, ghouls and demons found in Jewish folk and mystical tradition into the fabric of our service, demonstrating how some specific prayer and ritual traditions that we still have today may have their roots in these stories and beliefs.

For some of our more regularly attending worshipers, these services have become a highlight. They tell me that the format offers a way for them to be exposed to different kinds of spiritual practice and ways to pray that are accessible and can be internalized, while also providing a forum for learning in a setting other than an adult learning class. The feedback tells me that these creative services are fulfilling their purpose. I look forward to another year of experimentation in our Ritual Lab.

 

 From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

My first awareness of the Women’s Rabbinic Network came, rather appropriately, from one of the first women rabbis that I learned from and was inspired by while I was still living in the UK. Rabbi Marcia Plumb, originally hailing from Texas, but living and working in the UK for a number of years, already had many years of first hand knowledge of the WRN. Since arriving in London, she had also become one of the founding members of a wonderful feminist Jewish group that ran its own conferences and workshops, ‘The Half Empty Bookcase.’

And so it was, back in 2002, just as I was starting my rabbinic studies at Leo Baeck College, that Marcia brought a group of us together – other female colleagues out in the field and rabbinic students – and announced that, at the last WRN Convention, she had suggested that they all come to London for the next one. And they decided to take her up on the offer! We went to work creating a convention program – a considerable achievement for a group, only one of whom had ever seen what a WRN Convention looked like.

Ten years ago, in January, 2003, approximately 80 women rabbis gathered in London – an incredible bringing-together of women from North America, Israel, the UK, and several communities across Europe. Now, by this time I had met many, if not all, of the female rabbis in the UK. I don’t have the total number that existed then, or now, but if I tell you that there perhaps 60 or so Progressive synagogues in the UK altogether, some too small to have their own clergy, you can imagine just how overwhelming and exciting it was to see 80 women rabbis descend on London at the same time!

Because of my own travels back and forth between the USA and London, I already knew a handful of these women. It felt wonderful to introduce them to ‘my land’, and they introduced me to many of their colleagues. Women that I am proud to serve alongside today in the Union for Reform Judaism (URJ); women who taught at Hebrew Union College (HUC-JIR) who I would, less than a year later, be learning from when I transferred my studies to HUC-JIR, New York; women who served as Regional Directors of the movement, and in other roles as consultants with expertise in a variety of areas; women who were congregational rabbis, and women whose rabbinate was served in chaplaincy or in schools. One of the things that the WRN has done better than many rabbinic associations has been to embrace and try to support Rabbis who work in many different fields, recognizing that women in particular are more likely to have a diverse portfolio that represents their different passions and interests, and sometimes the choices that have been made or have been necessary to facilitate life-work balance.

Many of these women became my role models. WRN gatherings, and especially the unique conventions, became a highlight for me. While these gatherings always include content that contributes richly to our professional development, there is an added component of spirituality, creativity and innovation in worship, and encouragement and support for the real life stuff of being a woman working in the rabbinate, that I have seldom experienced so authentically and deeply in any other professional setting.

I am writing this on the plane, as I make my way to Memphis for this year’s WRN Convention. I’m excited to reconnect with friends and colleagues, and this year I’m especially excited by the direction the organization is beginning to move in. I’ve been a member of the WRN Board for the past couple of years, and took on the role of Communications VP, as we transitioned away from a print newsletter to expanding the ways we communicated with our members, and helped our members communicate with each other. Taking full advantage of the ways that social media and other technologies can help to connect us when we are not together, we are moving into a new phase in the life of the organization where we make better use of those connections to advocate for our members, and for women’s issues more broadly. We’re finding ways to help the voices and perspectives of women rabbis be more present and heard in the public sphere. Our WRN Blog, Kol Isha (the voice of a woman), was launched less than a year ago, and has already received over 17,000 hits. A team of women rabbis have shared the blog, offering a plurality of voices and perspectives on many issues. At this convention we will receive training from the Op-Ed Project, which works to help under-represented groups within society be seen and heard on the op-ed pages of online and printed media. Some of our colleagues have already made significant inroads in these areas, but our work together at this convention will, we hope, help to empower many more.

I know that some of my colleagues are excited about the possibility of seeing Elvis at Graceland (and yes, we are going to Graceland!). I’ve never been much into Elvis, but I am excited about spending the next few days with some of my female rabbinic colleagues. I know that I will return ‘All Shook Up’ - re-energized, spiritually nourished, and inspired.

We will be tweeting the Convention at #wrn13

We will be posting blog updates at the WRN Blog, throughout the Convention.

 

 From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

'It was meant to be', and
other theologically complex statements

I recently returned from an amazing trip to Senegal. I was there to visit my step-daughter who is in Peace Corp out there. It was incredible to get just a brief taste of her experience living in a village in an inner region of the country. Returning home, as many have asked us 'did we have a good vacation?' I have found myself answering, 'it was an experience.' I'm so glad we had the opportunity to have this experience and yet it is unlike anything I've ever done for 'vacation' before.

There is much that I could say about the trip and all that we experienced, from the landscape, the people and cultures, the food, to the village way of life. But I'd like to share one story that I shared with two of my classes at Religious School last night in the context of our theological, 'God Talk' sessions. The topic - transportation.

Public transportation is quite an experience in Senegal. Aside from our initial trip in from Dakar to the inland region, where we shared a private ride with another Peace Corp family, we opted to use public transport to get around. We found ourselves getting into vehicles that, in any other country, I would never dream of traveling in. There was not a single taxi ride that we took for very local journeys that did not involve a taxi with multiple cracks across the front windscreen. All of the shared 7-seater cars that we took had taken some kind of beating on the severely pot-hole marked roads that we rode upon. But the most challenging ride we took was in one of their regional minibuses that ride from market town to market town. After a three hour wait on the side of the road following a beautiful hike to a waterfall in a fairly remote eco-tourist location, this was all that came by, and we decided that it was possibly our only ride back to home base that day.

These buses are loaded with as many people as they can hold, along with any assortment of items up on the room (in another location we saw 3 goats that had been purchased in the market town seated up top). After a very bumpy hour and a half ride back to base, one of us seated in the aisle on a bag of rice and one of us with a set of live chickens under our seat, we arrived safely at our destination.

We had planned to take a 'night bus' back to Dakar at the end of our trip so as to avoid traveling in the hot daytime. However, upon arrival at the market town where we expected to make that connection we learned that the reservation that had been made by phone didn't exist as that particular bus had been rerouted for that one night to Touba for a Muslim pilgrimage. Another lengthy wait ensued and we got ourselves a ride on a seven seater car that brought us safely back to Dakar in plenty of time for our plane home the following night.

The following morning, sitting in a Dakar coffee shop, I picked up one of the French newspapers. My French isn't what it used to be, but I could translate enough of the front page article to see that the previous night, a bus on its way to Touba had been in a head-on collision with one of the regional minibuses. Tragically, all 26 occupants of the minibus were dead.

After taking in the tragedy of the story, my very next thought, reflecting back on the previous day's frustrations as our plans had gone awry and we'd had a long, hot wait for alternative transportation was, 'perhaps it was meant to be.' And in almost the same moment of utterance, I felt ashamed. Meant to be that we were not on one of those buses? Meant to be that we had to change our plans? But surely not meant to be for the 26 souls who died?

As I shared the theological implications of the statement with my students, we reflected on how often we find ourselves, upon seeing the larger picture, or realizing that something good has come out of something that we initially perceived as bad, voicing such a statement. Its familiar to many. But what do we actually mean by it?

For some, their belief is indeed shaped by a sense that something larger than ourselves - often understood as God - is guiding the direction of our lives. When we experience something negative or painful or tragic, one who believes this can find it a meaningful way to manage their suffering through the faith that there is a bigger picture and a larger plan that we simply don't understand. However, for others, this kind of belief leads to incredible anger toward God and a magnification of their suffering.

For some, the statement is less of a theological statement about God's hand in our lives and more of a pragmatic statement of relief that, perhaps by random chance, we ended up going left instead of right, left 5 minutes later instead of 5 minutes earlier. In order that we find ourselves where we are right now, it had to be that the turn of events prior evolved as they did.

Beliefs about the extent to which God has a will and is directly engaged in our lives are many and varied throughout Jewish philosophical thought. They feed into a wide range of beliefs and opinions of the extent of free will vs 'fate'. If we do not believe in fate, is it a contradiction to believe that something was 'meant to be' in the sense of God having a hand in the specifics of our lives?

For some, their belief in God is more of a sense of the pulsing energy of existence that encapsulates and goes beyond all things knowable and unknowable. To that extent, it is more of an ever-unfolding 'is' than an entity with conscious will, at least in the way that we understand those words in human terms. For such a believer to use the phrase 'it was meant to be', they have more in common with the one who believes that it is all just random chance, except that this unfolding of their life and reality may be imbued with a greater sense of awe and a sense of the mystery of it all that provides the foundation for their spirituality.

Personally, it is in this latter group that I find myself. But what I realized as I analyzed these ideas with my students is that a variety of different belief systems can lead to the same outcome - a way of accepting that which 'is', whether felt as positive or negative, and taking the next step forward into life because or in spite of what has just come before. Its not arriving at the specific formulation of one's belief that is most important; it is recognizing how it serves or hinders one's ability to live a meaningful life in this world. And understanding that the only moment that we truly have is this one.
 

#BlogElul 2: Soul Trait Inventories

In the last few years, the Jewish spiritual practice of Musar has made something of a resurgence among Jews from many different walks of life. Perhaps Alan Morinis can be most identified with making what was once primarily under the purview of observant, Jewish males into something accessible that speaks to a much wider audience. But others, such as Ira Stone, also have written extensively on Musar and, similarly to Morinis, offer online courses and communities of practice for those who wish to engage more deeply.

The link above provides a more detailed explanation of the history and practice of Musar. But one key element is the identification of separate (although often inter-dependent) character traits that one can examine over time, through study with others, and with self-observation and journaling as one takes a designated period of time (usually at least a month) to become aware of how this particular characteristic reveals itself in your own life. You might be looking at the trait of judgment. Or trust. Or, perhaps, compassion.

In Musar, there is a recognition that there is not one right way to exercise each of these traits. The practice is one of paying attention to how it manifests in your own life now in comparison to how you might believe it should manifest if you were able to raise your spiritual life to a higher level. As part of the practice, one of the most important elements of one's self-awareness is to recognize the 'Bechirah' - the choosing points when examining how a particular trait exhibits itself in your life.

So, for example, there may be many kinds of interactions where I feel good about my ability to be non-judgmental. But that is not where I need to do my deepest spiritual work. It is the kinds of interactions where I hear the judgmental voice in me rising sharply... if I can notice what specifically flips that switch in me, I can then begin to really examine and understand where my judgment comes from. The goal is not to arrive at a completely relativist world where I never judge anyone or anything. But perhaps I realize that I can sometimes be harsh. Or sometimes I rule out people or options too quickly when they deserved deeper consideration. And so, over time, I can choose to work on rebalancing this particular soul trait in my own life. And how that looks for me, may be different to how it looks to you. You may be someone who seldom judges. And this may manifest in ways that sometimes has people taking advantage of you and manipulating you. Your soul trait work on this trait may see you rebalancing in a different direction, and becoming a little more judgmental in certain contexts.

When we talk of Elul as a month to take stock, to turn, to reflect.... its not just about counting up 'sins' and telling ourselves that we'll try and do better next year. There are many spiritual practices and tools that we can draw upon from the well of Jewish wisdom. They can guide us in a deeper way so that, when we return to Rosh Hashanah a year from now, we may notice that we've not just circled a year, but that we've spiraled a year, and we've ended up a little higher along the path than the year before.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz
 

From RAISE IT UP
The blog of Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogElul 11: Why won't you change?!

We all have certain people and certain kinds of things that 'push our buttons'. I certainly do. I was just reminded last night about a particular pattern of behavior that I've observed over and over again from certain individuals that is hurtful to others. I found myself infuriated. In the heat of the moment, my buttons are pushed, and I feel the anger rising.

On the one hand, this is natural, human behavior. When you see people that you love being hurt, you want to protect them from that hurt. On the other hand, when individuals who are part of your world - family, co-workers, neighbors, etc. continue to exhibit annoying or thoughtless behavior even after you've taken thoughtful steps to try and bring the effects of their behavior to their attention, yet they show no sign of change... what next?

The 'easier' option may be to minimize one's interactions. But that may not always be possible. Another path may be to continue to inform the other of the way you are experiencing their actions or words. In unequal power relations (e.g. an employee and a boss), that may not always feel like a viable course of action either. Of course, if the behavior is truly abusive, it may well be necessary to remove yourself from the situation by leaving - something that takes courage but which, ultimately, can be enormously freeing and healing.

What else can you do? We have no ability to make someone else change. We can only truly take charge of making change within ourselves. And so, perhaps we can change our response? Perhaps, when we notice the anger rising we can take a step back and laugh, saying, 'look at them doing that ridiculous thing that they always do!' Perhaps instead of anger, we can learn to nurture compassion in our response, 'I feel so sorry that they so lack the awareness to understand how their behavior makes them look in the eyes of others. That must be so isolating for them.'

The ability to turn the experience in this way helps to get us a little closer to the next step ... forgiveness. It is hard to forgive if we truly believe that someone is intentionally hurting us again and again. And, if that is indeed what is going on, perhaps its not the time to explore forgiveness until we've been able to create more distance. But if someone seems to exhibit the same behaviors over and over, and seems incapable of change, perhaps we can find our way to forgive what they do out of ignorance and limitation.

Change is hard. Self-awareness is a necessary component of making change in our own lives. Finding ways to let go of our frustrations when others have not changed, we can take the opportunity to look within and find the places in our own lives where change is hard for us. If our awareness of how the lack of change in another makes us feel can inspire us to take up the challenge of making the changes necessary in our own lives, perhaps they've given us a gift after all?
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

 

Blessings Beyond Borders -
An Interfaith Tale

By Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Last Saturday evening I was given an opportunity to be part of a truly wonderful celebration - the Sweet 16 party of a very special young woman. As I explained to the guests gathered there that evening, this was an evening of firsts for me. We don't really make much of the 16th birthday in the UK, probably because 18 is not so far away. In the UK, 18 takes on greater significance as it is the legal drinking age. So last Saturday was my first ever Sweet Sixteen party. Another new and special part of the experience for me was that this Sweet 16 was celebrated Puerto Rican style. As I learned in preparing for the event, there are variations on the rituals that have become associated with this celebration - Brazilians, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and other Latin American countries all utilize slightly different symbolic acts and objects to represent the transition into womanhood. Traditionally, these events took place at the age of 15, and so the celebration would be called a Quinceanera. In North America, the celebration has often shifted to the age of 16, influenced by North American Sweet Sixteen celebrations. At the celebration I attended, two key ritual moments involved replacing a ribbon in the young woman's hair with a tiara, and a pair of flat shoes with high heels. Another part of the tradition is for a priest to offer a blessing, often presenting a bible and a crucifix necklace. And this is where I came in.

The young woman in question is Muslim. Desiring to celebrate her Puerto Rican cultural roots, but minus the religious traditions of Catholicism, it might have been challenging to involve either a Priest or an Imam. Much of the family was practicing Catholic, and many of the women from the Islamic community were present for the celebration too. It was a wonderful interfaith and intercultural gathering in and of itself. But why add a Rabbi to the mix?

I was invited to offer a blessing at this particular Sweet 16 after getting to know this young woman these past two years through our Tent of Abraham interfaith activities. We had met on several occasions - adult and teen discussion programs, Rosh Hodesh group and Muslim women's study and celebration gatherings, and Iftar (evening break fast) during Ramadan. And so it was that, in the week leading up to the celebration we spoke on the phone. In preparing some words of blessing, I asked her to reflect on significant moments in her life up until now that seemed to her to have shaped her life and her faith. She spoke of her father's death at an early age, and later reflecting more deeply on taking responsibility in the world during a time that her mother was unwell. She spoke of the values that were most important to her - trust, loyalty, compassion, friendship. She spoke of her belief in one God, who could be addressed and experienced directly by every person. These words and more were the sentiments that I reflected back to her. In the mix, as per a request from her and her mother, I explained how the rituals and the celebration compared with Jewish coming-of-age ceremonies. Just as the evening was filled with many firsts for me (I even began with a few sentences of Spanish - a language I have never studied or spoken before - thanks to the assistance of one of our Puerto Rican staff at the synagogue!), I explained that I was sure that the presence of a Rabbi to offer the blessing was a first for everyone there. It became an opportunity to learn from and about each other.

In the mix was the Priestly Blessing, an English interpretative rendition by Debbie Friedman, a Rashi interpretation on the blessing, and a blessing over the food sung in Aramaic and English. In just 5 minutes I had the opportunity to share some rich Jewish traditions and prayers with many who may never or rarely had any direct experience of Judaism before. This was taking Jewish wisdom public in a whole new context. These were blessings beyond borders. It certainly was a blessing for me to attend and participate in this wonderful young woman's special evening.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Sukkot (Feat of Tabernacles): Shofar

Author: Arthur L. Finkle

Sukkot (Feat of Tabernacles): Shofar Arthur L. Finkle

In reading the tractate Succah, both Palestinian and Babylonian, we come across some fascinating social history regarding the role of the shofar in the ceremonies of the Holy Temple.

We learn that part of the Succot ceremony is celebrated today insofar as dwelling in the sukkah and handling the lulav (palm branch), etrog (related to the lemon and indigenous to Israel), myrtle branch and water willow branch (Arava).

Two important ceremonies, however, were not carried over from the rites of the Holy Temple on Succot: the Aravot Ceremony and the Water Libation Ceremony.

In this article, we will discuss the Water Willow Dance, performed on the seventh day of Succos. This ceremony eventually was transformed by the Rabbi's into Hoshana Rabba on the same day of Succos.

Water Libation Ceremony

The Water Libation Ceremony was performed each day of Succos. The rationale teaches the Jewish people to bring water before Him on Succot, petitioning for adequate rains, paramount to the success of an agricultural society. (Succah Bavli 37; and RH 16a). Another interpretation from the Midrash (book of ethical stories and interpretations) is that the lower waters were sad when God separated the waters to upper and lower. Their distress was noted by God that the lower waters would be elevated during this season. (Rabbaynu Bachya to Lev 1:13)

The Water Libation ceremony was an elaborate ritual emitting great joy, in fulfilling of Is. 12:3: "You shall draw water with joy from the wellsprings of salvation."

The Rabbi's in Yerush. Succah 31b (Palestinian) give a social history of the role of the shofar in the Holy Temple, with particular emphasis on Succot. Further, the Rabbis agreed that the Water Libation Ceremony is Scriptural) See Bavli Zevachim 110b)Aravot (Wiollow Branches) Ceremony

The Mishnah (Sukkah 4:5) indicates that the custom was to circle the altar one time on each day of Succos and seven times on the seventh day (similar to Joshua's circling of Jericho). So too we circle the Bimah one Hoshana each day of Succos and seven Hosannas on the Seventh day.

Jonatan Adler discusses this ceremony as he describes ancient coins which depicted this ceremony. The depiction shows the golden flasgon used to gather the water from the well of Sheloah; a willow branch

"What was the rite of the willow-branch? There was a place below Jerusalem called Motza. The Talmud indicates that Baavli Talmud cites that city to be Kalonia. Because it was tax-exept, the trees were ownerless; thus, there was no taint of theft involved. See Meiri Bavli 45a.

They went down to there, and collected young willow branches, and then came and set them upright along the sides of the altar, with their tops bent over the top of the altar, after which the trumpets made a long blast, a quavering note, and a prolonged blast". These trumpets were sounded by Kohanim (Priests) See Num. 10:8,9 and Mishnah Succos 5:6.

With reference to what we have learnt, '''Every day they walked round the altar once, and on that day they went round seven times"', your father, citing R. Eleazar, stated: "[This was done] with the lulav (BT Sukkah 43b Soncino translation). This statement was challenged by contemporary sages, who held that the altar was encircled while holding willow-branches, and not the "four species" (ibid.); See also 1. L. Rubenstein:The History of Sukkot in the Second Temple and Rabbinic Periods, Atlanta, 1995, p. 109, who writes: "Most likely the circumambulations were performed with willows - the description says nothing of the lulav but we should not advance solid historical claims where the traditions are silent". M Sukkah 4: 5, The statement by R. Johanan b. Baroka (M Sukkah 4: 6) regarding the beating of palm fronds should be seen as complementing this tradition (Rubenstein, above, n. 7, p. liS). Jonatan Adler, ,The Temple Willow-Branch Ritual Depicted on Bar Kokhba Denarii, Israel Numismatic Journal, 16 (2007–2008), pp. 129–133

Afred Ederssheom also concurs with the ritual s of this ceremony. Alfred Edersheim, eb-ttms/temple14.htm#Tabernacles

The Mishnah indicates that, to prepare for the Sabbath restriction of carrying, they gathered the branches the day before and placed on the altar. sacred-texts.com/jud/etm/etm076.htm

The Yerul. Gemara 23b stated Motza was free from taxes. (The, itself, means exempt from taxes.) These branches were 11 amos high (c. 400 ft.) and placed near the altar. The altar was 9-amos.

The Yersul. Talmud, in Succah 24a describes the ritual. The priests, even those with blemishes, performed the Arava ceremony in the Temple, which required them to circle the altar one time for the first six days of Succos and 7-times on the 7-nth day of Succos, in remembrance of the Joshua's encirclement of Jericho. (Only priests were allowed into the ante-chamber area.)

Because the priests had to enter the Antechamber adjacent to the altar area, the Rabbi's ruled that for the Arava ceremony, R. Yehuda indicated that priests with blemishes were allowed because such a regulation was Rabbinic in nature and could be changed by the Rabbi's.

An interesting note is that the Pharisee maintained that priests could enter the Temple cited in the Tractates, Parah, Kipuurim and Succos. The Sadducees opposed this holding. Yersul. Succah 27a.

It should be also noted that, although most trees in ancient Egypt were not considered holy, the willow tree was the primordial tree on which the sun rested in the shape of a bird at the beginning of the world. The Metternich Stela makes a connection between the tr-tree, apparently the willow, and the benu bird.

It was sacred to Osiris and gave shade to his coffin while his soul rested on it in the guise of the phoenix. In some versions of the myth it was the willow which grew around the coffin protecting it, in others it was the persea.

Shofar

The Bavli Succah (45a) discusses the mitzvah of "Arava" (willow branches). It states that during the time of the Beit HaMikdash the priests would go down on Succot to a place called Motza that was below Yerushalayim and there they would cut large willow branches. They would then bring the branches to the Beit HaMikdash and lean them against the side of the altar, with the top part leaning over the top of the altar. They would then blow the shofar in the standard fashion, with one broken sound (teru'ah) preceded and followed by a solid sound (teki'ah).

Although the Rabbi's disagreed over the exact time this ritual began, they concurred that the Prophets instituted this custom. Thus, it was not likely occurring in the Frist Temple but was in the Second Temple.

The Rabbi's taught that willows of the brook mean of special type of willow as opposed to the zafzafah which grows in the mountains. (Bavli Talmud, Sukkah 34a)

Accordingly, the Rabbi's decreed the seventh day of Succos as Hoshana Rabba, the day of many Hosannas (petitions for salvation); the time that the Book of Life and Death are finally sealed.

Although trees in Egyptian culture did not have extraordinary significance, it should be noted that the Willow tree in Egypt, a primordial tree on which the sun rested in the shape of a bird at the beginning of the world. The Metternich Stela makes a connection between the tr-tree, apparently the willow, and the benu bird:

It was sacred to Osiris and gave shade to his coffin while his soul rested on it in the guise of the phoenix . In some versions of the myth it was the willow which grew around the coffin protecting it.

It should also be note that Bavli Succos, 54b, 55a provides that the shofar is sounded 48 times each day.

Water: Special Significance

Why was a special offering of the water willows brought on the last day of Succos?

The Talmud (Bavli, Rosh Hashana 16a) writes that as the world is judged for water on Succot, we bring a water offering so that the rains for the coming year should be blessed. Water was the lifeblood of the Israeli agricultural society. Petitioning adequate water was a prayer to further one's livelihood.

Another reason is that the holiday of the harvest moon (on which Succot begins) occurs five days after Yom Kippur in the harvest season. During the harvest season, a person may become haughty and forget God. The Rabbi's reflect that haughtiness affects not only farmers, of course. The wise may take credit for their knowledge and those of fine character may take credit for their graces. The bottom line is that all we get, whether it be money, wisdom, or respect, comes from God

The Succos 4:5 indicates that the shofar blew three times (tekiah, teruah and tekiah) right before the priests circled the altar. Again the shofar was featured to draw attention to an important festival.

The Rishonim Sages from the 11th through 16th centuries) explain that the reason that this is specifically done on the seventh day of Succos is as follows: Succos is the Day of Judgment for water. This means rain and, in a broader sense, all livelihood. We therefore add special prayers to ask for a good year. The Gemara records a dispute as to whether this is a prophetically ordained custom or not, but we do know that it traces back to the Holy Temple.

Transition of Water Willow Dance to Hoshana Rabba

The name for this holiday probably comes from Psalm 118:25. Hoshana means to save. This is the seventh day of the Feast of Tabernacles. It comes one day before Shimini Atzeret. It is usually observed on the 21st day of the Hebrew month Tishri. It is also called "the great Hosanna."

• This practice in the Temple serves as the basis for our modern custom of Hosannas. As reported by The (14th century German-Spanish Legalist, in Orech Chaim 660), we circle the bema once a day with a Torah being taken to the bema (a practice based on the Yalkut Tehillim) and thus serving as the focal point and in place of the altar. We also bring a Torah to the middle since during the time of the Holy Temple the marchers would recite the name of God while walking, and we have a tradition that the entire Torah is made up of various names of God. According to the Yerushalmi (Palestinian Talmud), our current practice reflects not only what was done during the time of the Temple, but also is meant to mimic the siege and conquering of Jericho in the time of Joshua, when they circled the city once a day for six days and seven times on the final day, causing the walls to come tumbling down (Joshua 6).

R. Joseph Caro (compiler of the Code of Jewish Law, 1565) notes that on Hoshana Rabba (seventh day of Succos), even a person who does not have the four species (palm branch, myrtle, water willow and etrog) should take part in the seven laps around the Torah. His rationale is that since there is a special remembrance of what was done in the Temple - see Succah 41a for more on this concept). The common practice is that a person who does not have the four species never takes part in the walking around the bima.

Rav Feinstein (mid-20th century) also notes that there is a custom to recite the Hosannas after Additional Service where in the Temple there was an additional sacrifice on special days, including the festivals. He gives a simple reason for this order - since one is obligated to read from the Torah and say the additional service, but the Hosannas are simply a custom, it is logical that obligations should precede customs.

The Bach (1586-1657 ) offers a second reason. The Mishnah concludes that after the Hosannas on Hoshana Rabba everyone would leave for home while praising the altar. The implication is that the Hosannas were the last thing done in the Holy Temple before people departed, and thus we also make them the end of our services every day before departing for home.

The Order of the Hoshana Rabba Service

The Night

The Mogen Avrohom records that the custom was to stay awake on the night of Hoshana Rabba. Commentators indicate that we read the eno9re Torah, Deuteronomy (as a review of the other 4-books) and the Psalms. (The Avudraham; R. Isaac Luria, (Arizal)

The Morning

The Code of Jewish Law (Shulchan Aruch) cites a custom brings a Mintage to loosen the bindings of the Lulav so that the water willow is freed.

The congregants circle the Bimah seven times instead of the usual one. In some congregations they blow the Shofar after each circuit.

Hoshana Rabba is the Hebrew name given to the last and greatest day of Hag HaSuccos, the Feast of Tabernacles. Due to the mechanics of the calendar, ...
www.betemunah.org/hoshana.html

Hoshana Rabba became recognized as an official judgment day in modern Judaism when the Zohar (13th century Kabala) declared it. During the worship service it is common to see congregations march around their worship room seven times (similar to Joshua marching around Jericho). Psalm 118 is chanted and when verse 25 is sung, and after the seventh cycle around the room, the worshipers take the willow branches that they have been carrying and strike the ground with them until the leaves fall off. This is symbolic of the worshiper beating their sins away. Sometimes these palm branches are saved and used to build a fire to burn bread just before Passover.

Conclusory Observations

We have found the rhythm of the Jewish Fall holidays from Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Succos as series of vitally important holidays to the pulse of the Israelite in the days of the Holy Temple. Rosh Hashana began the religious year. Yom Kippur was the Day of Atonement not only for individual but also communal sins. Succos was the fall festival of paramount importance in the agricultural society.

We also observed the importance of the shofar. Rosh hashana is the festival of the shofar. Yom Kippur sounds the shofar at the end of the service, originally to announce the Jubilee Year. Succos, to petition God for abundant rains and consequent harvest, the shofar was utilized, particularly for the Water Libation Ceremony and the Water Willow Dance.

We also observed the role the synagogue has replaced the Holy Temple as a means for worship. No longer do we make animal and meal sacrifices. We have kept the intent of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. And we have spiritualized the festival of Succos to one of petition for our agricultural needs, to one of remembrance and thanksgiving. Further, Hoshana Rabba celebrates the closing of the book of accounting.

Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/religion-articles/sukkot-feat-of-tabernacles-shofar-5308826.html

About the Author

Designated as an Advanced Practitioner by the Association for Conflict Resolution, and practicing 30 years in human resources administration, ARTHUR L. FINKLE specializes in labor relations' mediation. Listed in Marquis' Who's Who (2011); Who's Who in Government; Who's Who in American Education; and Who' s Who in American Law, he has authored 8-books; 4-book chapters and 150+ articles on human resources issues. Assistant Director for Decentralized Programs and then Director of Mediation for the New Jersey Department of Personnel, he also teaches at Kean University and Empire State College. He appears on the N.J. Court Roster as a Mediator and as a Mediator Mentor. In addition, he is rostered by Mediation Works Incorporated (MWI) Panel of Employment Mediators (located inBoston,MA).

Graduating from The Wharton Graduate School, he has taught numerous business and social science undergraduate and graduate courses at Rutgers University, Rider University, Kean University and Mercer County Community College. Recent books focus on human resource management regulations.

Ki Tavo
by Rabbi Marc Kline

When I was young, I could not wait to grow up. I wanted adventure and excitement, and growing up in Las Vegas, both were easily available. To boot, I had a good friend, Randy Bornstein, who was the spitting image of Roger Daltry of the British rock band, “The Who.” Now, in most cities, this would not have meant very much, but in Vegas, it was not inconceivable that Roger Daltry would go bowling at 3 in the morning or that, as a celebrity, his entourage should be treated to a round of drinks at a downtown hotel. I guess you have figured that part of this is a confession, for, while Randy was over 21, I was 16. While my father (z"l) did not know the details of what was going on, he knew enough to admonish me daily, "Don't rush out and meet life! Your adventures are writing checks that your maturity cannot cash.” Dad has been gone for over twenty years, but I still need to admit that he was right. One cannot expect to appreciate maturing, if one never goes through the steps of maturing. He forced me to stay fairly grounded in high school, and my late brother, David, took over in college (he was in medical school and we shared an apartment). Somehow, I figured out some pieces of reality, but I could not have done so without learning from other people’s experience in addition to my own. In so many cases, I had no idea what I was learning, until I had finished that piece of the journey. We grow from our experiences, and what I know is quite simple: Experience is a wonderful teacher. More than any lesson taken from a textbook, we know all that we know because of the experiences we have observed, celebrated, or endured at some point along our life's journey.

Some things we know because of our own doings. I learned fairly early in life that if I wanted to get a good grade in school, I had to study. Good grades did not just happen by falling from the sky - they are earned. I learned that if I swam in our pool when no one was at home, I would not be allowed to swim in the pool even when people were home. We also learn vicarious lessons; valuable lists of do's and don'ts based on other people's experiences. I have never been shot by a gun, but I know from what has happened to others that this experience is not on my bucket list. These opportunities to learn create the corpus of what we know. They also create the corpus of what we will come to know. It is from the experiences of yesterday that we make choices for tomorrow. We stretch our boundaries to accommodate the excitement or fear that comes from analyzing data gained from previous experience, with each new day, with each new engagement with another, our boundaries shift. There are endeavors upon which we never thought we would want to embark that now scream at us to try. There are paths that we were sure we wanted to travel upon which we now would not even think about treading.

Our tradition teaches us that the eyes never have enough of seeing and likewise, our ears never hear enough, but one thing is for sure, the gift of being able to learn experientially is that once we have seen or done something, there is no going back to ignorance. What seem to be immediate epiphanic moments happen upon us, making sense out of events and occurrences that, up until the point of enlightenment, seemed completely disjoint or without value. Torah teaches that Israel wandered for forty years in the wilderness. In this week’s portion, Moses speaks of a really interesting observation, “Moses called all of Israel and said to them, ‘You have seen all that God did before your very eyes in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh, to all his servants, and to all his land; the great trials which your very eyes beheld and those great signs and wonders, yet until this day, God has not given you a heart to know, eyes to see and ears to hear. I led you through the desert for forty years [during which time] your garments did not wear out from upon you, nor did your shoes wear out from upon your feet. You neither ate bread, nor drank new wine or old wine, in order that you would know that I am the Lord, your God.’”

Moses pointed out that even while the people were walking through the forty years in the wilderness, they had no realization that they were not eating bread or drinking wine, or that their clothes and shoes never wore out. It was not until they got to the Jordan River that they realized these things - the things that would have distracted them or even dissuaded them from the journey. Only in looking back on their experiences, can they fully appreciate the blessings and miracles through which they walked and survived. We all need this time for reflection on life’s journeys. We need to give ourselves the chance to really appreciate our own incredible journeys. Often times, we really do not appreciate the present, but in looking back on today … tomorrow, we learn a great deal about who we are and who we need to be. As important as our studies are, we do not learn how to live from a school classroom text book. Rather, the experiences that fill our resume of living provide the greatest testimony for the value of living. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah -
Ekev
 by Rabbi Marc Kline

There is nothing more wholesome than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or at least that is what we used to think. Now, peanut allergies force alternatives like sunflower nut butter. If one looks at the ingredient list on a peanut butter jar, it is almost unrecognizable anyway. The jellies are high in sugar, so we have had to figure ways to sweeten jams without using artificial chemicals or chemical processes. Now, even the bread is under attack. White bread is an empty starch, and even whole wheat is bad, since the current gurus argue that wheat free is the way to be healthy. So I guess wholesome is now sunflower nut butter and natural jams on brown rice bread … Still, we are to be thankful for even the white bread (which tastes a whole lot better than does the brown rice bread).

One might really wonder why I am thinking through this conversation, but I ran across the famous line from Torah, “Man does not live by bread alone”, and the whole bread debate started playing in my head. Perhaps, bread issues have gotten so out of hand, that man should live on anything but bread. All of this said, even if it were only for white bread, we need to be thankful.

In fact, however healthy or unhealthy breads might be, they are a basic staple, and unless one is delving into the world of specialty expensive gourmet breads, it is the basis for most meals. The blessing we say before meals presumes that bread will be on every table: “Barukh Atah Adonai, Elohaenu Melekh Haolam, hamotzi lekhem min ha-aretz – We praise you God eternal who brings forth bread from the earth.” Within this presumptive prayer are two things that I think folks take too much for granted. First, those of us who get to eat regular meals have choices whether or not to add bread to the meal, while for so many people, bread really is the link to life. Secondly, no matter what is on the plate, as long as something bread-like exists, that is the prayer we say.

I juxtapose that statement of blessing which seems to argue that bread supersedes everything, and the statement from Torah that bread can never be enough. The two concepts seem to deeply oppose each other. I think, however, that they both point to a single most important lesson. In Pirke Avot we read, “Eem aen kemakh, eem aen Torah aen kemakh – If there is no bread there is no learning, and if there is no learning there is no bread.” The rabbis are telling us that our sustenance comes equally from what we eat physically and what we engage spiritually. Where we consume only with our stomachs, we learn nothing. Where we forget to feed our stomachs while we spend all day learning, our learning is meaningless, as we will have no strength to apply to life the tools we have garnered.

We cannot exist, living in one realm or the other. Our body and our mind are co-dependent. We need a purpose to sustain ourselves, and we need to do so intentionally. Bread represents the basic food groups. They are important. We cannot, however, ever feel fulfilled, so long as we accept the bare minimum for ourselves or for others. For those of us blessed enough to have more, we can never become complacent in our own comfort, for we must remain vigilant to know that we have obligations to make sure that no one lives without. That physical sustenance is linked to intellectual growth requires us to give in ways that help other people grow, and not just sustain themselves in ignorant expectation. We must give, and we must give in ways that help people grow – that pushes people to grow. Otherwise, even while we are not content to live on bread alone, we become content letting other people do so. This is a matter of justice more than compassion, and this is the command of Torah, not the fodder for political debate. We need to bring to food banks, but we also need to teach people self-sustenance, and they have to both happen at the same time. Community gardens, job training, and health monitoring, care, and awareness make the differences between communities that thrive and communities that starve. Torah tells us repeatedly, “Therefore choose life.” Shabbat Shalom.There is nothing more wholesome than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, or at least that is what we used to think. Now, peanut allergies force alternatives like sunflower nut butter. If one looks at the ingredient list on a peanut butter jar, it is almost unrecognizable anyway. The jellies are high in sugar, so we have had to figure ways to sweeten jams without using artificial chemicals or chemical processes. Now, even the bread is under attack. White bread is an empty starch, and even whole wheat is bad, since the current gurus argue that wheat free is the way to be healthy. So I guess wholesome is now sunflower nut butter and natural jams on brown rice bread … Still, we are to be thankful for even the white bread (which tastes a whole lot better than does the brown rice bread).

One might really wonder why I am thinking through this conversation, but I ran across the famous line from Torah, “Man does not live by bread alone”, and the whole bread debate started playing in my head. Perhaps, bread issues have gotten so out of hand, that man should live on anything but bread. All of this said, even if it were only for white bread, we need to be thankful.

In fact, however healthy or unhealthy breads might be, they are a basic staple, and unless one is delving into the world of specialty expensive gourmet breads, it is the basis for most meals. The blessing we say before meals presumes that bread will be on every table: “Barukh Atah Adonai, Elohaenu Melekh Haolam, hamotzi lekhem min ha-aretz – We praise you God eternal who brings forth bread from the earth.” Within this presumptive prayer are two things that I think folks take too much for granted. First, those of us who get to eat regular meals have choices whether or not to add bread to the meal, while for so many people, bread really is the link to life. Secondly, no matter what is on the plate, as long as something bread-like exists, that is the prayer we say.

I juxtapose that statement of blessing which seems to argue that bread supersedes everything, and the statement from Torah that bread can never be enough. The two concepts seem to deeply oppose each other. I think, however, that they both point to a single most important lesson. In Pirke Avot we read, “Eem aen kemakh, eem aen Torah aen kemakh – If there is no bread there is no learning, and if there is no learning there is no bread.” The rabbis are telling us that our sustenance comes equally from what we eat physically and what we engage spiritually. Where we consume only with our stomachs, we learn nothing. Where we forget to feed our stomachs while we spend all day learning, our learning is meaningless, as we will have no strength to apply to life the tools we have garnered.

We cannot exist, living in one realm or the other. Our body and our mind are co-dependent. We need a purpose to sustain ourselves, and we need to do so intentionally. Bread represents the basic food groups. They are important. We cannot, however, ever feel fulfilled, so long as we accept the bare minimum for ourselves or for others. For those of us blessed enough to have more, we can never become complacent in our own comfort, for we must remain vigilant to know that we have obligations to make sure that no one lives without. That physical sustenance is linked to intellectual growth requires us to give in ways that help other people grow, and not just sustain themselves in ignorant expectation. We must give, and we must give in ways that help people grow – that pushes people to grow. Otherwise, even while we are not content to live on bread alone, we become content letting other people do so. This is a matter of justice more than compassion, and this is the command of Torah, not the fodder for political debate. We need to bring to food banks, but we also need to teach people self-sustenance, and they have to both happen at the same time. Community gardens, job training, and health monitoring, care, and awareness make the differences between communities that thrive and communities that starve. Torah tells us repeatedly, “Therefore choose life.” Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Reeh Re’eh
by Rabbi Marc Kline

I was fixing a latch on our garage door this week. I was minding my own business, but looked up to see a spider dangling a few feet away - just dangling. It was almost as if it were watching what I was doing. It made no effort to spin more of a web, to confront me, or retreat. It just sat there … watching. I almost...

felt that I was stuck in the middle of the story of “Charlotte’s Web,” but I am not a pig, nor did I expect to see “lock fixer extraordinaire” weaved into a neon lit web. As I continued my work, I had to fantasize a little about seeing the world through the eyes of a spider. By the way, for those not previously convinced - this may be proof that I have gone off the deep end. In all candor, though, we take so much of what we see for granted … in part, because we are bigger than most of what we see.

Being “bigger” though is only an illusion. For us to look at the spiders and feel superior is near laughable. First, with their tiny brains, they can spin beautiful webs from their rear ends. Can you do that? Second, and even more telling, a tiny spider has the power to kill a large animal with a simple bite. Likewise, we consume fish, but they can survive under water without any breathing apparatus beyond what God gave them from the start. Of course, when we go around showing how much greater we are than others of our own species, we only diminish ourselves in the eyes of everyone else.

God created us with eyes, but not just eyes. The eye may capture the snapshot of whatever stands before us, but without spiritual vision, we have no idea of what to do with what we see. This spiritual vision comes from somewhere deep within. It would be easy to say that the brain controls all, but we have all had the experience where our head tells us to do one thing, but our other senses pull us in a different direction. The problem we too often face is that we pay attention to neither our brain nor our soul, but only to our eyes. There is an old adage that one cannot judge a book by its cover, but we spend a great deal of our lives judging each other (and the world around us) on first glances … on solely what the eyes see.

The first word of this week’s Torah portion is “Re-eh.” This is the command to look and pay attention. The text might be read more passively had it used a non-imperative form of the verb, but this command is emphatic - “Behold!” What follows is not a mere presentation of something for the eyes to take in. God shows us the difference between the blessing (life) and the curse (death), and the further command is to always choose life. This seems relatively simplistic, but in the same sense that we find ourselves challenged to see our relative stature in the real world, we struggle to keep perspective on what is really important in our own best interest. We see, but we do not behold.

The truth we must face is that we walk sightless amongst the miracles of creation, re-creation, truth, justice, and love. We take for granted so much of what surrounds us, sustains us, and nurtures us. We are an integral part of this world, but only a part of it. By default, we fail to choose the blessing simply because we fail to pay attention. Amongst those whom you love, how long has it been since you let them know? When was the last time you took the time to bask in the glory of being part of the world, not simply finding yourself walking through it? We have an obligation … the text was a command; we have to pay attention and in doing so, we choose the blessing and therefore, life. Stop whatever you are doing right now. Look to someone for whom you care and let them know that you do. Take a look out of your window and rain or shine, celebrate that our earth renews itself. Every day, commit time to enjoy the blessing of being … being part of the magic of the world in which we live and not tangent to it. May every day be filled with blessings and may this be a Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah - V'etkhanan

by Rabbi Marc Kline

This week, we read the most holy words in our liturgy, from their original source. "Shema Yisrael, Adonai Elohaenu, Adonai Ekhad - Listen Israel, Adonai is our One God!" Even while we see God in so many different lights, we acknowledge that there is one source of creation. We cannot fathom a world where different Gods created the diff...

erent peoples of the world - unless there was some overriding force that made them play by the same rules. Even then, the enforcer/monitor of these unifying rules is a singular understanding of a God type figure or arrangement.

Every time we read these words in the Biblical text or in our liturgy, we follow with, "Love God with all of your heart, all of your spirit and all of your being." Our tradition recounts a story involving the death of Rabbi Akiva. He was arrested for teaching Torah, and the Roman empire tortured him. In the midst of the torture, the time came for the daily recitation of the above prayer of affirmation. As he recited it, his disciples questioned how he could still have faith since he was being killed for his faith. He went on to say, “All my life I have committed to loving God with all of my heart, spirit and being. Now, as I am about to die, I first realize what it means to love God with all of my might.” Akiva never stopped being true to himself, even in matters of life and death, for all he had to do was publicly renounce his faith and he would have been saved. His love for God, his sense of honesty, and his sense of faith were as one, and that oneness was inviolable.

This story dates 1800 years ago, but there so many stories before and since that teach this same message. The words of the Shema may be missing, but the affirmation that there is an ultimate standard of integrity rings loudly and clearly. Shakespeare put it most colloquially, “To thine own self be true.” In each generation voices call forth reminding us to stand tall, even in the face of oppression. Why is it that we need to continuously remind people of this truth, generation after generation? Why, because we struggle. I see it more and more: people struggling to make sense out of a world that often makes no sense. Throughout history, when times got tough, people turned to religion. Faced with tragedy, our number one response has been to investigate faith and existence. We know the old adage, “There are no atheist in foxholes.”

Regularly, I receive calls to do funerals for Jewish people who have died … who while living, never participated in the Jewish community. The family wants a traditional burial, even if the deceased (or the surviving family) never cared about a traditional lifestyle. During war time, religious attendance has traditionally gone up. I remember on September 11, 2001 people flocked to services at a variety of houses of worship, and continued to show up the following year for memorial events … even when they never showed up the rest of the days of the year. It is not that religion only matters in times of trauma. We too often get so caught up in our lives that, as important as the label of our religion is, slowing down to celebrate and observe “just didn’t work out this week.” There is, of course, next week: “I will make it then.” We want to be true to ourselves, but the number one question that clergy of all faith traditions ask is this, “Why does it take trauma to get people to live their beliefs?”

I think this ignores a reality which I see proven in everyday life, and in which I have to believe, that people really do feel close to their traditions, and hence close to God. I just think that our failure to fill our pews is more about the lack of our relevance in their lives and in meeting spiritual needs. People evolve and their needs evolve. I am not sure how much of what happens in normative houses of worship has evolved. The ripple effect of this difficult reality moves people from God. If the “God” that happens in these places of worship alienates or ignores the needs of people, then people may love the source of creation but cannot fathom a relationship with what religion has called “God.”

Still though, these words ring out, “Love God with all of your heart, with all of your mind, and all of your spirit,” and the lore and teachings from tradition instruct us to see this line is a mandate to be true to one’s self. Take a look at the many efforts around this world (in the most likely and unlikely places), where we find people dedicating their lives to helping each other and protecting the world around us, people are loving God … whatever they are calling God. They see taking care of all that God created as the best way in which they can be true to themselves. If loving God with everything we have is the goal, then even while attendance numbers at houses of worship diminish, people demonstrate their love for God in numbers that grow exponentially. We can hold sway over people for a short time letting them believe that they are better than others for being in one tradition or another, but the ultimate truth calling us to loving God (and hence loving the world) will have to win out. Pay attention folks, there is only one God, and this God is called many names. This God is seen in many different lights. This God cannot be served in arrogance or fear. … This God is served with all of our heart, our mind and our spirit. We serve by cherishing not only the creation that looks back at you in the mirror, but all other creation, as well. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -

V'etkhanan

 by Rabbi Marc Kline

This week, we read the most holy words in our liturgy, from their original source. "Shema Yisrael, Adonai Elohaenu, Adonai Ekhad - Listen Israel, Adonai is our One God!" Even while we see God in so many different lights, we acknowledge that there is one source of creation. We cannot fathom a world where different Gods created the diff...

erent peoples of the world - unless there was some overriding force that made them play by the same rules. Even then, the enforcer/monitor of these unifying rules is a singular understanding of a God type figure or arrangement.

Every time we read these words in the Biblical text or in our liturgy, we follow with, "Love God with all of your heart, all of your spirit and all of your being." Our tradition recounts a story involving the death of Rabbi Akiva. He was arrested for teaching Torah, and the Roman empire tortured him. In the midst of the torture, the time came for the daily recitation of the above prayer of affirmation. As he recited it, his disciples questioned how he could still have faith since he was being killed for his faith. He went on to say, “All my life I have committed to loving God with all of my heart, spirit and being. Now, as I am about to die, I first realize what it means to love God with all of my might.” Akiva never stopped being true to himself, even in matters of life and death, for all he had to do was publicly renounce his faith and he would have been saved. His love for God, his sense of honesty, and his sense of faith were as one, and that oneness was inviolable.

This story dates 1800 years ago, but there so many stories before and since that teach this same message. The words of the Shema may be missing, but the affirmation that there is an ultimate standard of integrity rings loudly and clearly. Shakespeare put it most colloquially, “To thine own self be true.” In each generation voices call forth reminding us to stand tall, even in the face of oppression. Why is it that we need to continuously remind people of this truth, generation after generation? Why, because we struggle. I see it more and more: people struggling to make sense out of a world that often makes no sense. Throughout history, when times got tough, people turned to religion. Faced with tragedy, our number one response has been to investigate faith and existence. We know the old adage, “There are no atheist in foxholes.”

Regularly, I receive calls to do funerals for Jewish people who have died … who while living, never participated in the Jewish community. The family wants a traditional burial, even if the deceased (or the surviving family) never cared about a traditional lifestyle. During war time, religious attendance has traditionally gone up. I remember on September 11, 2001 people flocked to services at a variety of houses of worship, and continued to show up the following year for memorial events … even when they never showed up the rest of the days of the year. It is not that religion only matters in times of trauma. We too often get so caught up in our lives that, as important as the label of our religion is, slowing down to celebrate and observe “just didn’t work out this week.” There is, of course, next week: “I will make it then.” We want to be true to ourselves, but the number one question that clergy of all faith traditions ask is this, “Why does it take trauma to get people to live their beliefs?”

I think this ignores a reality which I see proven in everyday life, and in which I have to believe, that people really do feel close to their traditions, and hence close to God. I just think that our failure to fill our pews is more about the lack of our relevance in their lives and in meeting spiritual needs. People evolve and their needs evolve. I am not sure how much of what happens in normative houses of worship has evolved. The ripple effect of this difficult reality moves people from God. If the “God” that happens in these places of worship alienates or ignores the needs of people, then people may love the source of creation but cannot fathom a relationship with what religion has called “God.”

Still though, these words ring out, “Love God with all of your heart, with all of your mind, and all of your spirit,” and the lore and teachings from tradition instruct us to see this line is a mandate to be true to one’s self. Take a look at the many efforts around this world (in the most likely and unlikely places), where we find people dedicating their lives to helping each other and protecting the world around us, people are loving God … whatever they are calling God. They see taking care of all that God created as the best way in which they can be true to themselves. If loving God with everything we have is the goal, then even while attendance numbers at houses of worship diminish, people demonstrate their love for God in numbers that grow exponentially. We can hold sway over people for a short time letting them believe that they are better than others for being in one tradition or another, but the ultimate truth calling us to loving God (and hence loving the world) will have to win out. Pay attention folks, there is only one God, and this God is called many names. This God is seen in many different lights. This God cannot be served in arrogance or fear. … This God is served with all of our heart, our mind and our spirit. We serve by cherishing not only the creation that looks back at you in the mirror, but all other creation, as well. Shabbat Shalom.

 

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah -
Mattot-Maasae

 by Rabbi Marc Kline

"And the MOSHIE AWARD for the best supporting character in the wilderness journey goes to ..." Every time I get to this week's Torah portion, I cannot help but believe that there is some award due Moses' brother Aaron. When Moses went before Pharaoh, Aaron went with him and did the talking (Moses had a speech impediment). Aaron was made the high priest, but his younger brother, Moses got to talk to and on behalf of God.

Even while the matter was certainly controversial, when Moses was up on the mountain for 40 days and nights, Aaron mollified the people by focusing them on creating the golden calf. The Rabbis credit him with finding a way to coalesce their wandering attention deficits, keeping them from revolting out right. The people appreciated Aaron. After he passed away, “the entire nation of Israel mourned for thirty days.” When Moses passed, “The children of Israel wept for him.” So much love and respect does the tradition have for Aaron, if one reads the whole Torah, the only yahrzeit mentioned is Aaron's. This week's Torah portion points out that he died on the first day of the fifth month of the 40th year of the wilderness journey.

As Judaism evolved from this Biblical underpinning, Aaron's legacy as High Priest has very little value today. We do not honor the priesthood as we are told that we once did, and even the parts of the Jewish world that still do give the priest an extra, that role is minimal. Even so, the Rabbinic tradition honors Aaron as being, in some ways more important than was Moses. In Pirke Avot, we are never instructed to be like Moses, though we are told to live as did Aaron, loving peace and pursuing it. Most of the “Aaron” story is told much earlier in the Torah, but for whatever reason, it is not until this point, at the end of the book of Numbers, that we are given the date of his death. As the Rabbis create the Torah calendar, the remembrance of Aaron’s passing is always read within a week of Tisha B’Av, the date we remember the destruction of both Temples in Jerusalem (a day also remembered for a host of horrors against the Jewish people – including the Nazi announcement of the “Final Solution”). Every piece of our tradition acknowledges how dear Aaron was to the people, and how devastating his loss was to the world. As I think about Aaron in this role, I also cannot help but sing the lyrics to Bette Midler’s “Wind Beneath My Wings.” This song celebrates the person she credited most with making her successful. We all have those heroes in our lives, and most of them get very little “press.” In fact, I would submit that the greater our success, the more profound our supporting cast must be. Whether it is the parent who held us and pushed us to be the best we could be, the teacher/professor/coach whose impact on our lives changed night into day, or a best friend or partner who held us accountable when we were wasting our talent or strength, I believe that even the best of us is only as good as we are pushed to be by the people who love us.

When Ray Kroc bought McDonald’s from the McDonald brothers, he knew nothing about making burgers. He did, however, know how to gather the team of people who knew a whole lot more than he about every aspect of the business; the people really responsible for the corporation’s success. He got the credit, but without his team, he would have failed miserably. For whatever success I have enjoyed, it has been because of the editorial skills, love and immense patience of my family, the support and critical thinking of partners, the logistical acumen of co-workers and friends, and general support of my congregations. These are not platitudes, rather confessions. Were it not for a Methodist district minister and a retired Baptist minister, I would not have learned what it meant to be a Rabbi who served the community. An AME minister taught me what social justice really meant. Were it not for incredible family strength, I would have burned out years ago.

Do we let people know how important they are in our lives? Do we really appreciate how dependent upon and connected we are to the blessings people so lovingly offer us? When we look in the mirror, do we really understand that whatever stares back at us is a composite of the love and support of the many people who touch our lives? Perhaps the greatest tragedy of the “Aaron story,” is that despite all of the accolades we have showered upon him, they all happened after he died. We need to make sure to give the people who deserve our gratitude their full share of “roses” while they are here to appreciate being appreciated. To the many people to whom I owe so much, if I have not let you know, please let me know, so that I can. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Pinkhas

 by Rabbi Marc Kline

Midway through the Book of Numbers, we are stuck doing a lot of counting. In Hebrew the name of the book is Bamidbar. In English it is called "Numbers”, precisely because of the number of times people get counted in the book. It began with a census and twenty-six chapters and 39 years later, we are again taking another one (there were se...veral in between, as well). Over the chapters in between, our numbers stayed about the same, even while the distribution changes a little. There are less of Simeon and more of Manasseh, but the total number counted differs by fewer than 2000 men; there seems to be an obsession with counting.

Ultimately we have to figure out what to do with these numbers. Our tradition teaches that there is nothing superfluous in Torah, even the excessive census taking. One sage once exclaimed that it was nice to know that God had nothing more to do than count the people over and over again. With all of the diversity that exists in the Torah, it seems as though counting might be the lowest common denominator that might link all those counted. For some, this common denominator is not a matter of “lowest,” rather it is the highest commonality. Despite what labels and tribe membership one might have, God counts them all equally, and given that we are endowed with the spark of divinity, each is counted as an equal representation of God on earth. I love that answer.

There is more to this portion. Even while it begins with the story of the overly zealous Pinkhas and ends with ritual rules for the celebration of holidays, there is a neat conversation that takes place in the middle. This census begins the conversation. What follows is a discussion of how Moses is to divide up the land amongst the tribes. Each tribe gets a relatively equal share of the land for its membership. Tribal membership, though, is determined by the census count … and the census counts only the men of military age. The section that follows appears out of nowhere and is quite astonishing. The five daughters of Zelophokhad take a stand for equality. Their father died leaving five daughters and no sons. As the rules stood, their father’s estate would dissipate as no male offspring existed. The daughters went to Moses to declare the existing rules unfair. Moses spoke to God, Who affirmed that the young ladies were right and just. Okay the rules changed … sort of.

I refuse to accept that it is purely accidental that this sequence of texts appears, as it does. Granted, I was not around when these stories were written, but I think it is important that the reader is “sucked in to the story” with business as usual, only to be hit with the zinger in the end. We are counting men, we are dividing the land amongst the men … and no one is offering any question as to the appropriateness of limiting the conversation to men, until we suddenly find ourselves immersed in the dispute over a daughter’s right to inherit. The most wonderful message is that the text may speak of men, through which one can anticipate a military force, but no one is to be discounted in terms of what matters – possession of the sacred inheritance families pass generation to generation. It is as if the Biblical authors presumed that we would be chauvinistic in approaching the text, and would need a reminder that men and women share equally God’s bounty and blessing. Again, if nothing in Torah exists by accident, then the context and sequence of these texts cannot be ignored.

Herein lays the difficulty of this Torah portion. Generations of religiously oriented people have insisted that men have superior rights over women. Yes, the Torah does specifically call on men to protect women. The texts do proscribe (and prescribe) specific societal roles and rituals. The texts do not say that the basic human rights and entitlements are different one from the other, yet too many, whose religious traditions flow from this text, ignore this last piece. They have traditionally used their own value of these specific roles, to justify the wroth and status of men over women. We see this play out in the Baptist and Catholic Church, in parts of the Orthodox Jewish and Islamic world. Because of the role that these religions have on cultural values, this male supremacy exists in our secular lives, as well. My mother used to say (about the proposed Constitutional Equal Rights Amendment) that she did not understand why women wanted to be equal; they were already superior. This was a very clear jab at a male dominated world that did not (and does not) respect women as much as men. Yet, with all of the rampant, but religiously founded acts of gender discrimination, the actual text of Torah tells us that we are equal in God’s eyes and in the rights and blessings we are to share on earth. I pray that we really pay attention to what our texts teach, and not what we want them to say. We may actually take a count of people for specific matters, but ultimately, everyone counts. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah -
Balak

by Rabbi Marc Kline

Every morning, Jewish houses of worship all over the world begin worship with the words “Mah Tovu Ohalekha Ya-akov, Mishk’notekha Yisrael - How wonderful are the tents of Jacob, the sacred dwellings of Israel!” It is an odd thing that we do, given that these were the words spoken by one sent to curse us, instead of bless us. So many commen...tators use this story, and Bilaam’s pronouncement as proof that God can do whatever God wants. Even while the pagan/evil soothsayer set out to harm Israel, God made him bless us, instead. Other sages will use this text to demonstrate that the opportunity for atonement is open to all people. Bilaam set out with his mind bent on evil and destruction, but somewhere along the way, his donkey and God helped turn him to righteousness. These are nice arguments, but not ones that resonate with me this week.

I am not convinced that this story is really about Bilaam. I think that he is a catalyst for our own gut check. As the story goes, Bilaam receives messengers from the Moabite King Balak, who wants the soothsayer to curse Israel. After a great many trials and conversations between the King and his agent, it may be true that Bilaam has “seen the,” light but I think it is more important that we get to know the people from whose ways he might be rebelling. The Moabites are mired in a religion of pagan and idol worship. How bad is it? Well, the Torah will make a case for its “stench,” but I found a piece from the Talmud that … well, it speaks for itself:

There was once a pagan woman who was very ill, who vowed: “If I recover from my illness, I will go and worship every idol in the world.” She recovered, and proceeded to worship every idol in the world. When she came to Peor, she asked its priests, “How is this one (Baal Peor) worshipped?” They replied, “One eats greens and drinks beer, and then one defecates before the idol.” She said, “I'd rather return to my illness than worship an idol in such a manner (Sanhedrin 64a).”

Peor is the location Israel settled, after being blessed by Bilaam. All of their enemies had been cursed by Bilaam, and they felt secure to stay. This is where the trouble begins. “Israel settled in Shittim. And the people began to stray after the daughters of Moab. And they called the people to the sacrifices of their gods ... and Israel joined themselves to Baal Peor. (Numbers 25:1-3)” As Pogo put it, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

How did we go from deserving the blessings Bilaam had to fight his own people to utter on our behalf, to worshipping their dung before idols? There is immense drama in this story, as it will continue into next week’s Torah portion with horrific violence. How do people plunge so far? Of course, more fundamentalist branches of religions argue that this is the story of assimilation, and straying from one’s roots; perishing for lack of faith. Oddly, the more liberal branches of religions point to the fundamentalists arguing that the narrowness of fundamentalism is a kin to the worst of pagan faithless idolatry. There are a great many different faiths in this world. I believe that God endows each with holiness (hence both sides are wrong), and that there is no one way that is better than another, when approaching a relationship with God. The key word in this conversation is “faith.” Faith is the foundation of a belief in something beyond our selves that moves the world forward. What was described in the Talmud text, though, is a tradition that focuses on deifying and worshipping our own waste product, the stuff that remains after every nutrient … every valuable element of what was once nutritional … is gone.

I do think that when we get too comfortable being “good” (blessed by Bilaam), we stop trying and then forget what being good meant. In a book I commend to everyone (From Good To Great), Jim Collins teaches us that when we spend more time patting ourselves on the back for being good than working to continue being better, we end up failing miserably. This is Israel, in this week’s parsha. In celebrating that they had been blessed, they let it go to their heads, rested on their laurels, and stopped being even good. How many athletes, leaders, business leaders, etc. do we know who did great things, rejoiced in the accolades lavished upon them and then rested on their past success only to watch their lives, careers, and businesses fail? Maimonides tells us that evil is not a force opposing good, it is the absence of intentional goodness. Where we stop intentionally working to get better, we fail and chaos takes over. Hence the blessed Israel fell into the idolatrous religion of the Moabites with Baal Peor. All it takes for us to be good is for us to want it enough to be intentional about making it happen. This is a power that each of us has, and a blessing that each of us must live and share. In this way, we will continue to be blessed as good and as holy. We repeat this blessing every morning to remind ourselves of this opportunity. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Korach

by Rabbi Marc Kline

It is all about relationships. Everything we do in life revolves around the relationships that we forge with family, with our environment, with friends, co-workers, our own psyches ... and with God. The ethical value of the relationships we form with our families, our friends, and even our own souls determine the joy and fulfillment we will receive from those facets of our lives. We understand this truth when we consider the places in life that feel special and the places that feel increasingly uncomfortable. The difficulty that we find ourselves in revolves around our inability to sort these things out. We find a great many reasons to stay stuck in places we do not like and never realize the immense power we have to resolve whether and how to make things better. If we get stuck enough, even the good things we want to do sometimes bring difficult results.

In this week's Torah portion, God, Moses, and Aaron face yet another rebellion. While the theme of an ungrateful people is recurrent, this episode is different. Usually, the people forget some blessing or miracle God has occasioned, and whine to Moses that we were better off in the flesh pots of Egypt than having to face the next challenge. The mantra is that Israel had forgotten the instructions from God and the signs and wonders that evinced God’s might and love for God’s people. This episode, though, offers a really radical statement. Korakh rebels against Moses and Aaron because he knows that God has blessed him, and feels that Moses and Aaron have ignored God’s teaching. The really difficult piece in this story is that Korakh may have been right.

Torah teaches that God made all Levites priests. Even more than that, the entire people of Israel is a “Mamlekhet Kohanim – a Kingdom of Priests.” Korakh is the great grandson of Levi, and Moses’ and Aaron’s cousin. Korakh is not part of the rabble, though even the rabble is to be considered priestly according to Torah. Moses and Aaron have divided up the job of leadership between them, entitling only Aaron and his offspring to serve as priests. Korakh approached his cousins, “You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire congregation are all holy, and the Lord is in their midst. So why do you raise yourselves above the Lord's assembly? (Numbers 16:3)” However you slice this loaf, excluding people, especially those who are supposed to serve, from service is difficult to swallow.

What went wrong? The text will tell us that Korakh will lose this rebellion, but the epilogue of the event has an interesting twist. It is clear that God chooses Moses and Aaron over Korakh, but we are left wondering why? Perhaps it all comes down to the nature of the relationships in which the relevant parties operated. Moses and Aaron served, often standing alone against the mob, demonstrating faith in God. Korakh wanted status; he had been convinced it was his right. Korakh’s followers were princes (Numbers 16:2), they were people vested in the rebellion for the sake of destroying faith in God and establishing power for themselves.. Dathan and Abiram are cited elsewhere for causing this rebellion (Deuteronomy 11:6). My take on this story is that Korakh was the pawn in Dathan and Abiram’s scheme against Moses. The result of the rebellion is that the followers of Korakh perish when God opens the bowels of the earth to swallow the rebels. The text does not say that Korakh fell into the pit, and if one reads the Psalms, many begin, “This is the Psalm of the sons of Korakh.” Korakh was right in his claim that God’s service was the property of all people. The takeaway message here is that the term “all people,” meant all who serve faithfully and with integrity.” His failure, rooted in the relationships he had with Dathan and Abiram, clouded his faith, and that trumped the relationship with God which he had inherited as a Levite. His concern was not a willful attempt to rebel, but his concern was manipulated into fomenting a rebellion.

It is all about relationships. There is an old adage, “When you lie down with dogs, you wake up with fleas.” This statement sounds trite, but if we are not careful to seek integrity in our relationships with each other and especially with our own faith, even with good intentions, we cause severe problems. Every person taken in by a cult, gang, or subversive group joined, trusting that the budding relationships they experienced would lift their spirit and enhance their life. Even while the messages alienated them from family, friends, morality, or faith, they put trust in people who distracted them and made them feel uniquely special. No doubt this is the same way that Dathan and Abiram manipulated Korakh. We owe ourselves more in life than to compromise our health, faith, and future because of the influence that we give a power monger/broker over our destiny. True faith roots in healthy relationships with each other … and with whatever we believe God to be. Each engagement should see us grow ourselves and then nurture growth in the world around us. Shabbat Shalom

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Shelakh

by Rabbi Marc Kline

One of my favorite jokes that my brother used to tell involved a woman speaking to her husband, “I know you destroyed the car, burned dinner, and forgot to pick up our children at day care, but it is my fault - I messed up.” The husband replied, “How is it your fault - how did you mess up?” She said, “I trusted you to take care of these ...matters.”

I could not help but think of this story, as I read through this week’s Torah portion. Moses is sending spies to check out the land promised through our ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God had already told the people it is Israel’s for the taking, but God’s assurances were not enough. The people were unsure and needed more proof. God told Moses to send spies, but not for God’s account - rather for the people’s proof. God had to know what to expect. The text literally reads, “Send for yourself spies into the land …” An already skeptical people were sending their vocally skeptical leaders to check out the new land into which they were to move. When they got into the land, they saw the most luscious of fruits - a land flowing with milk and honey. Rather than be marveled by the majesty of the scene, skeptical as they were, they jumped to the conclusion that fruit that size could only exist for giants. Therefore, moving into the land … whatever God said … would be folly and would mean certain destruction.

Here is the piece that I don’t get. Already bent on believing the voyage into the land was folly, Israel sent these same non-believers into the land to check it out. This people already had a track record of disbelief despite the many signs and wonders they had experienced since leaving Egypt. What made them think that they could trust these same leaders to look at the scene objectively? It would have been completely out of character for someone who witnessed the many miracles across the wilderness and rejected them to have entered the land and appreciated the blessings for what they were … blessings. Israel, in sending these spies, set them up … and in trusting them, set themselves up for failure. Why did God let this debacle happen? Perhaps, God understood that we need to learn to overcome our own skepticism, and God hoped that the ‘VISUAL” would change their hearts and minds. I suspect, though, that God actually makes the point by giving us enough rope to hang ourselves and each other. It is difficult to think about how Israel went about placing its trust in people who continually made bad decisions, and then punished its leaders when they made bad decisions.

Trust is tough, and most often, probably more than a little unfair. We burden people with our expectations, and then get mad at them when they fail to act as we pre-supposed that they are supposed to act. When we put trust in people, if we are not careful, we sort of set them up for a fall. While my brother’s tongue in cheek joke oozes satire at many levels, the idea that the wife had an unreasonable expectation of her husband is as much to blame in her husband’s failure as any place where he failed. Satire aside, we know that we often ask too much from people and then get disappointed when they do not measure up. We bring in experts to fix a business, without realizing that the business cannot be fixed without the effort of the people involved. When the expert’s job is done and the problems are not solved, we blame the expert. Having been involved in athletics at Tulane University, I remember the days when our football team was better than the New Orleans Saints. I believe that Archie Manning (Payton and Eli’s father) was one of the finest Quartebacks to ever play the game. He was on a horrible team, and the city vilified him for not making the team a Super Bowl contender. My father used to quip that while Marilyn Monroe could make a burlap bag look sexy, even Archie Manning could not fix the Saints.

I am not suggesting that we can remove blame or responsibility from the people who fail or who abuse trust; I am saying that we have to be really careful to make sure that we have realistic expectations of the people in whom we place our trust. Whatever one’s religious tradition, not one of us here is the Messiah and can do all things. The best of us have limitations. We need to credit the real talents that people do possess and be thankful for the work that they do. Where more is needed, we need to step up and help do more or know that the effort will fall short. We blame current politicians, clergy, doctors, and other professionals for not being able to fix the problems they inherit from whomever was there before, somehow forgetting that if we were part of the problem that we have to step up to participate in the cure, as well. A man prayed the lottery. Every day he uttered this prayer, getting increasingly frustrated as the days went on without his prayer being fulfilled. In frustration he announced that he no longer had faith, to which God responded, “How can you trust me to let you win the lottery, when you have never bought a ticket.” Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Naso

by Rabbi Marc Kline

“Be strong. Let us strengthen one another. Be strong. Let us celebrate our lives. Khazak khazak vnitkhazaek.” This is a phrase we usually reserve for recitati...on as we complete the reading of each book of the Torah along the annual cycle. As we would finish the final words of each of the five books, we would wish each other strength. We read these words two weeks ago, as we completed the Book of Leviticus for this cycle of reading. This step backwards is a special moment in time; a time even in the midst of high ritual, to remind one’s self about what’s really important. The direct quote comes from a song that a friend of mine wrote. Danny Nichols wrote this piece with the Torah cycle in mind, but more so, with the intent to help remind us to celebrate each day. “There is a power in this place and time; it shapes the rest of our lives.” We have to treat each day as though it were a watershed moment in time.

In and of itself, this is a nice thought and a wonderful lesson, but given the text of this week’s Torah portion, I think there is more to this. This week, we read of the Priestly benediction. According to tradition, at a certain part of the worship service, the High Priest (Kohaen) will stand and raise his hands over his head, while splitting his fingers into three groupings on each hand. The thumb will stand alone, the pointing and middle fingers are together, and the ring and pinky fingers are set apart. All the while, he recites an ancient incantation … a text found in this week’s portion. “May God bless you and keep you. May God’s light shine for you and be gracious for you. May God be with you and grant you peace.” The priests then go back and sit down. In some parts of my tradition, this is a unique and special moment in our liturgical worship; setting those who descend from the Kohanim (priests) apart from the rest of the community.

I never particularly liked this piece of the ritual. Over and over again, the Torah admonishes us to remember that there is one standard for all people. By definition, even while our tradition teaches that a convert is as Jewish as one whose ancestry traces back to antiquity, no convert can ever participate in this way, either. The Reform movement has done away with this ritual for it segregates a small group from the rest of the congregation, while also reminding us that men have special rights to which no woman can attain. We still use this blessing, but it is offered by whoever is presiding over worship; male or female – and without regard for one’s biological ancestry. These are, after all, words of hope and blessing.

Rabbi Ovadia S’forno, the great medieval Italian Jewish commentator, describes the three part blessing thusly: the first part prays for our material sustenance; the second part prays for spiritual sustenance; the third part prays for eternal blessing in this world with hope for the same in the world to come. This is not a blessing of particularism; it is one that transcends even the religious and secular divide. As our Jewish world becomes more secularized, we may dress in the garb of a spiritual life, but too many of us leave these dressings for the times when we decide to go to Temple. What is wonderful about the words of this blessing is that they have freely found their way into our secular lives. These words remind us that holiness is not the territory of a small group of segregated people; rather the right and aspiration of everything that breathes. Leonard Cohen (the Canadian Bob Dylan) has closed concerts with this blessing. Dylan has incorporated these words into song, as have a number of artists. Another dear friend of mine, Marjorie Guyon has produced a series of works entitled “A Nation of Nations,” the theme of which is the holiness of every culture and all life that makes up the fabric of our society. Incorporated into each panel of this work is the essence of this prayer. Inscribed on each is the prayer for God to be gracious and merciful with each one of us. We all know the sign Spock (Star Trek) makes when greeting another Vulcan, and the accompanying words of peace that follow it. If anyone remembers the sitcom, “Mork and Mindy,” one will remember that every episode ended with Robin Williams (playing an alien from ORK) raised his hands, made the priestly sign while sharing some moral insight followed by the words, “Nanu nanu.” Oddly enough, Williams once translated these (Orkan) words into, “it’s like shalom, “Good bye, hello, and peace.” Be strong. We must strengthen one another – not just some of us, but all of us, and may God grant us the strength to celebrate our lives as we work for peace for every one of us. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah -
Bamidbar

by Rabbi Marc Kline

When my daughter Corey was 5 years old, she was a bright, but precocious, child. I was in seminary, and living in an apartment complex with several other seminarians. We used to carpool to our campus, but had to drop Corey off at her school, on the way. One morning she asked one of my colleagues if she could count to... one hundred for him. She was so proud of herself, but not having had children yet, he did not understand the vicarious joy of watching children grow. He said, “No.” I gave him the look that says, “You had better rethink that answer or we are in trouble.” He added, “If you can spell “chiropractor,” you can count for me. A strained silence fell over the car for the rest of the trip. That night, we worked hard on helping her spell the word. In the morning, she got in the car and launched into the perfect spelling. My friend looked at me. I glared back at him. Corey commenced counting all the way to one hundred.

Counting is an important skill. We use it in every phase of our life. We count belongings, blessings (I hope), friends, miles traveled, and a host of other things in our everyday world. The problem we face is that too often, we get more engrossed in quantifying than we do in the value of the subject matter of the counting. Numbers are helpful tools, but in reality they are irrelevant. Two plus two equals four is not really helpful unless you know “four what?” According to Torah, there were over 600,000 people counted in the census in this week’s Torah portion. That may seem like a lot of people, until one realizes that this is only a piece of a much larger number; the men who were capable of battle, and did not include the rest of the men, women or children. Knowing that the only numbers that mattered are the counts of those who could carry a weapon strikes me as a difficult standard when describing a people commanded to seek peace and pursue it. Even if we are talking about only those capable of mounting a military defense, it still seems odd that we count only the warriors. Even if one reads the number as 76,000 (an answer offered in the Talmud), that is whole bunch of people counted for their fighting capabilities and not their peaceful qualities or intentions.

Herein lies the difficulty of proof-texting and being too literal with the text. The rest of the story tells us that the total people had to be around 2.5 million (alternatively 250,000). Even while the number of those of warrior status is vast, we are told in Deuteronomy that many are disqualified from service. Either they have not built homes for their families, they oppose war, or they are new spouses or parents. Even those who might engage in war have to first avoid damaging fruit trees, have to give the members of the opposing society the option to walk away unharmed if they do not want to fight, have to, for the sake of peace, be prepared to turn their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Thus, it is important to single out those who would be turning from soldiers of war with weapons to soldiers of peace with instruments of cultivation. Given the command to pursue peace, this will then become the largest army for peace known to humanity. Numbers are important, but knowing what they represent is everything. This is, of course, when my wife reminds me that women already knew better.

Even still, there is a huge identifiable disconnect between the impressive number of peacenicks, and what it takes to create that size of an army. Armies are made up of soldiers, each with his/her own personality and beliefs. The sci-fi depiction of massively created robotic armies is a metaphor that might apply to boot camp ideology, but it can never describe how each individual soldier will respond in any given situation. In common conversation about the text, there does not seem to be any room for a discussion about the individuals that make up the whole, but without the personal commitment of each soldier, we can never hope to accomplish very much … even with 600,000 people. Implicit in this counting process, we need to remember that each person we include in the tally is an army of one. At Havdalah (the ceremony that ends the Sabbath each week), we use a candle made of many wicked candles braided into one. We remind each other that light is a gift and a source of energy. Each of us has the ability to do a lot of good work and when we pool our resources (as the candle gathers the many wicks together) our ability to bring light multiplies manifold. So, when I read this Torah text and see that number, I am less moved by the tribal organization than I am hopeful that there really is a great resource pool from which to draw to get good work done. I also have to remember how easy it is to take people in a group for granted, because they are part of the group.

Each person has a unique take on how to view the world around us and a unique skill set that can help us meet a variety of challenges. For Corey, at the age of 5, it was the determination to be counted (to know that her skills mattered). She had a goal in mind, and met the challenge given her in order to accomplish the goal. What a great paradigm as we work alongside each other. We give each other opportunities to grow and shine, and then, even while operating in a larger mix of people, we still are individuals who shine. When Corey finished counting, the whole car was proud of her, and we all grew a little that day. What if we all responded to each other this way? I find it amazing how much we can learn from our children. Even when all we are doing is counting. Everyone counts. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah - Behar/Bkhukotai

By Rabbi Marc Aaron Kline

“Someday we’ll find it; the rainbow connection … the lovers, the dreamers, and me.” I love the Muppets. I love this song. Not only is it a most uplifting song (especially when Kermit sings it!), but it reminds us that this world is a whole lot bigger than we usually think about it being. The rainbow is the link between distant pla...ces in the world and people of incredible diversity. Its full spectrum of color reminds us that multiculturalism is part of the divine plan. Speaking theologically, the rainbow is our reminder of the first Biblical covenant made not only with mankind, but with all of nature. It appeared for Noah and his family, for every animal saved on the ark, and for all reborn pieces of nature that had been previously drowned by the rain and resultant flood. It happens that this Shabbat is “Rainbow day.” According to the Torah (Genesis 8), on the 27th day of the second month, everyone and every animal left the ark, one solar year after the flood began.

According to tradition, it is on this day, the 27th of Iyaar (Hebrew calendar), that we remember this first covenant. Now, we all know that I do not take the Torah story as a literal history. Each and every mythology of antiquity (we interestingly refer to ancient religions as mythologies) has a flood story. The Sumerians have “The Gilgamesh Epic,” the Greeks tell the story of when Zeus flooded the earth and only Deucalion and his wife Pyrrha survived to repopulate the earth. The Celts believed the flood came as a result of the spilling of Heavens blood when Earth’s children carved it up to secure their freedom. In every case, a few people survive to repopulate the earth. I do not know whether there really was an ancient flood that spawned each of these stories, or whether regions flooded, and all that people could see was water … hence they told of the flood that drowned the world. What I do believe, is that each tradition understands the power water has to both preserve life and destroy it. As such, we must understand how to appreciate the magnitude of this power -- and the related blessings and curses brought about by nature as a whole.

It happens that this Shabbat is the 27th of Iyaar. Shabbat is a day set aside as a taste of the world of peace yet to come. The sages teach that we work six days, pursuing things and material security, but on Shabbat - we pursue appreciating the blessing of just being. It is rare that “Rainbow Day” and Shabbat coincide. This Shabbat Torah portion speaks of the Sabbatical year for the earth. Every seventh year, we are not to work the land; it is to rest. This Shabbat, we will remember the covenant God made with nature, the covenant expected that we will make with nature, and the promise of peace that will be fulfilled when we fully honor our side of the agreement. How fitting that “Rainbow Day” occurs on this Shabbat, with its multitude of promises for the potential world of peace to come!

See, I really do believe that this stuff has lasted the ages for a reason. My faith tells me that there really is an interconnectedness in all the matters in which we engage. Religion helps provide us with a lens through which we can see and understand this interconnectedness, but it takes a faith transcendent of any religious dogma to really internalize this message. From this coincident day, I take away an understanding that there are no religious traditions at stake - the world is at stake! Long before the existence of any of the religions we speak of today, there existed an awareness that we were all in this together. That each tradition has a story of how a flood happened and how the earth (and humanity) was restored afterward indicates that not one people believed that the world repopulated homogeneously. If every stone that Deucalion threw over his shoulder became a Greek man, then how is it that this story could be retold in a time when not everyone was Greek? If the intention of the story was to claim that only one group was fit to survive for the future, there would be no room for Torah’s story that Noah’s children fathered the diverse (not continually homogenous) cultures of the world not a homogenous future. I know I am in left field sometimes, but it seems to me that these stories emphasize that the restoration of the world happened with intentional diversity. We may be very different in the way in which we go about living, but we all come from the very same family. The story tells us that the flood destroyed a homogenous people and fathered a diversely cultural world. What is at stake today is how we all care for the earth as the source of sustaining our lives, not just of one religion or the other, and not even just for people. This day we have to remember that whatever our religious label, we are beholden to each other … and to every living thing around us. We have to have faith that whatever tradition we espouse, whatever language we speak, whatever name we use to call upon divinity, we all share in the exact same obligations. Shabbat Shalom.
 

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah
- Emor

By Rabbi Marc Aaron Kline

I remember taking an Art History class in High School. One of my favorite teachers, Mike Van Wert, wanted the heathen teenagers (us) to appreciate the finer things of life. There were about twenty of us who agreed to show up early; an hour before school actually began. Now, it is true that many of us had motivations other than a thirst for knowledge about art that made us show up. Mine was to get out of the house before anyone else got up. Another friend came because it meant not having to walk to school (her dad took her on the way to work). In any event, with so much interest, the school actually made it into a normal class for which we earned credit. I learned a lot, and to this day, owe my appreciation of art to Michael. The most striking moment in the class - for me - was when Picasso's "Guernica" first came up on the screen. If you do not know the piece, you should ... it is disturbing, but a classic. Mike said that it was a "perfect depiction" of the subject matter. As I stared at the screen, I thought he was speaking facetiously, until he began to explain the picture. It was not until he told us the work's title that I fully understood how seriously he spoke. He made the point really clear when I asked what he meant when he said "perfect." There is no such thing as perfect. He said, "When I think about what must have happened in that town as it was being bombed, this is as perfect a depiction as it gets." I had to agree.

I had not thought about that class in years, until this week's Torah portion triggered some unblocking of days long gone by. In the text of the week, we read that a priest who has any physical defect is disqualified from being able to offer any sacrifice at the altar. My first thought has always been that there is no perfection. All of us have something about the right side of our body that is different from the left side, even in the best of cases. Somehow, I found the answer that this meant that sacrifice could never be performed (since no one qualified) perfectly satisfactory. In fact, I think that the text is written as a condemnation of altar sacrificial worship. As I defaulted to the above standard answer, the word "perfect" triggered the memory from high school.

There is a khassidic story about the famed 18th century Rabbi Zusya. Upon hearing of impending death, his students came to pay a final visit. Entering the room, they were surprised to see him trembling with fear. “Why are you afraid of death?” they asked. “In your life, have you not been as righteous as Moses himself?” “When I stand before the throne of judgment,” Zusya answered, “I will not be asked, ‘Reb Zusya, why were you not like Moses?’ I will be asked, ‘Reb Zusya, why were you not like Zusya?”

Just yesterday, I was speaking with someone after a funeral and reminded him that he was the most “perfect him” that existed, and I needed him to be intentional about taking care of himself. It hit me that the piece about Zusya spoke directly to the matter of the word perfect. If he was not the “perfect Zusya,” he would have to answer to God for his inauthenticity. Each priest who brought an offering to the altar was also the “perfect person,” if he/she lived up to being his/her best. The Torah, in this light, was speaking about the integrity with which the priest fulfilled his/her responsibility at the altar, not about any physical deformity. Elsewhere in the text, Torah teaches us that we are a “mamlekhet kohanim - a kingdom of priests.” Each of us is responsible for bringing the offerings of the community to the altar. Each of us is to be judged upon the way in which we authentically go about bringing our best to this task. The altar is the place where mankind and God meet; where heaven and earth touch.

In the same sense that Reb Zusya had to worry about how well he lived up to what he knew to be the best he could be, we have to do so, as well. The Hebrew word “Tefilah - prayer” literally means the act of introspection; crawling inside one’s soul to see whether or not we live up to this standard. Our prayer is successful if we emerge from our prayer with some new insight as to how we can do a better job living up to our own full potential. In this sense, we must be without blemish in order to bring the perfect offering to the altar. Thus there is no one standard for whom or what we are supposed to be, other than to be and do the best that we have to offer. In the same sense that a Picasso masterpiece bears no resemblance to the work of the Renaissance master Titian on the one hand or the finger painting of a child on the other, each of us is to be judged on the merit of our integrity and how well we will represent our “own best; own perfect depiction” when we stand in judgment before God and before each other. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah
By Rabbi Marc Aaron Kline

Every Rabbinical Student at Hebrew Union College has two major fifth year challenges for which to prepare. The first is the “Senior Sermon,” and the second is completion of the Rabbinical Thesis. The Thesis piece was wonderful. I had the privilege of studying and writing with the late Dr. Ellis Rivkin. If one looked up the term “mensch” (righteous and kind individual) in the dictionary, one would ...find Ellis’s picture there. Now, I cannot speak to how wonderful my thesis was; it was 174 pages on Philo that could cure any insomniac. The engagement with this incredible human, however, was amazing. I cannot say the same for my senior sermon. I did not get a lot of help from any advisor, and candidly am not sure that the advisor was in much of a position to help. I was struggling with a topic that was tantamount to a crisis in faith. As we approach the High Holy Days every year, we prepare to plan for the year that follows. One of the most famous readings for the holiday, Une Taneh Tokef, calls us to think about being inscribed for life in the year to come, and to think about how the folks who live will live and how who will die … will die. The liturgy is quite explicit about our prayers for being inscribed in the “Book of Life.”

Therein was my dilemma. I was serving my third year as Chaplain at a Jewish nursing Home; what is now part of Cedar Village but was then Cincinnati’s Glen Manor Home For The Jewish Aged. Every year, as I looked at my congregation from the pulpit, I struggled with the whole “New Year” and “Book of Life” concept. With the most disturbing of confessions, I found myself praying that certain members of our congregational family would not live to see the new year. Watching the deterioration of life is horrific, praying that life would continue knowing that someone I cared for was in agony and distress seemed unthinkable. Still, though, there are the words of the Prayer book that called on us to pray for another year of life. I could not do it. As it happened during my third year of Holy Days there, I learned one of the many faith altering lessons I was gifted while there. In the middle of one of the services, a resident died in her wheel chair. My first thought was, “Thank God!” I next figured that I need to interrupt the service to help the nursing staff remove her from the service with the least amount of disruption (I could see her slump, but I am not sure who else could). As I approached her chair, the woman sitting next to her commented how blessed the deceased was to go so that her pain was over. Both my reaction and hers plagued me … until it was time to write my senior sermon.

I finally understood that either the Rabbis had it wrong or we have never done a good job figuring out what they meant with the liturgical urging. What I think I figured out was that the latter was true. All these generations and we had missed the boat (much easier than calling Rabbis crazy). Actually, I figured out that it was not about living, it was about appreciating life. Since we do not know what will befall us in the year to come, assuming we even make it, we need to be intentional in what we write in our book of life. Further, since we do not know how long those we love will live, we need to appreciate the pages they write in their own books.

This week the Torah confronts us with the aftermath of Aaron’s sons’ deaths. The portion begins with an admonition that Aaron, even though being the high priest, was not to enter the inner sanctuary of the Tabernacle without bringing rededication offerings affirming his commitment to living and serving. Even in the midst of the greatest of loss, we are commanded to live … and to affirm our choice to live. The years of birth and death are not the measure of our lives, or the lives of those we love. The dash in between, as the poet wrote, is where the value of life is found. The “Book of Life” is about what we do with our lives, not how long we lived them.

So, as I think about this week’s Torah portion and my fifth year sermon, I am reminded that we really have to live more intentionally. We have to pay more attention to what we do with our own lives and how we respect and cherish those of the people for whom we care. Each time we face the challenge of loss, like Aaron, we need to be prepared to bring our rededication offering to the altar and for however many days with which we are blessed … choose life. Shabbat Shalom.
 

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose Of Torah - Tazria/Metzorah

I hate election time. I am tired of ads (from both parties, mind you) that spend more time telling me what is wrong with the opposition than what is correct about the candidate paying for the ad. If that were not enough, thanks to the PACs and Super PACs, the entire ad is negative, anti-someone or something. I look at these adver...tisements and worry about our future. If it really is all about being the last one standing in a bar room fight; if we really do elect the person who gets the least dirty; we are, as they say, “in a heap a trouble.” There is enough difficult news in the world today; do we need to taint our future as well? The way we talk about each other is demeaning. Is this what we have to look forward to?

A friend asked me to watch a politically oriented video depicting our highest officials (again, both parties) sniping at each other. The experience was poignant, even if a little depressing. It was after this endeavor that I turned to reading this week’s Torah portion. I was dreading reading this week’s text because of the difficult content I knew it addresses. If a woman gives birth, she has to bring a sin offering, and if her baby is a girl, it is a double sin offering. The next several chapters are spent defining skin lesions and throwing people out of camp if so afflicted. Rabbis hate this portion. I cringe every time a Bar / Bat Mitzvah is scheduled for this portion. We have found a way to discuss the skin afflictions as a metaphor for plagues, for the way people of bad character brand themselves, or evil speech and the way it taints the spreader of gossip. I love the commentary on the “sin offering” piece that effectively argues that there are things said in Torah that do not make sense in the real world and most likely addressed some narrow situation in the days of its authorship. Without hope for much uplift, I began reading the text and was quite surprised at an idea that kept jumping off the pages for me this time.

While I still struggle to make palatable the “sin offering” piece, the skin affliction piece screamed to be looked at more closely. Even in the midst of the details about skin lesions and discolorations, one theme kept returning to emphasis. For every time there is a mention of the affliction, there is a call from the priest to look for its healing. He has to go out of his way to declare someone free of the illness, for one who is ill is thrust from the camp and his home is potentially burned. If there is any discrepancy, as to whether one is or is not clean, he has the power to declare the person clean. In every case, the Torah teaches us that when choosing between life and death – the blessing and the curse – always choose life. I guess it struck me at this moment, juxtaposed to the too many examples we experience during election season where the people in control or vying for control take every opportunity to affirm the disease in each other. I like the lesson from the priest a whole lot more. In the midst of pain; surrounded by disillusion and mean spiritedness, we need to be intentional about making each engagement one in search of healing. We know, to well, that when we behave in an ugly way to each other, we distance ourselves from each other. It is no wonder that people are so disillusioned with politics, given that we vote for the person with the least mud, as opposed to the best ideas. Similarly, it should be no wonder why people are disillusioned with organized religion given the way we religion plays out in public. The very people slinging the mud, tout their own religious values. We have people putting religious affiliation in their campaign ads, while they are attacking the integrity and value of the opposition. I do not believe that Moses, Christ, Mohammad, Krishnah or the Buddah would want us to use their names to justify that behavior. We are all disgusted by this; it is the fodder of a huge body of commentary. Why do we tolerate this stuff? Are we not a “Mamlekhet Kohanim (kingdom of priests)?” If sacred scripture (in any of our traditions) has value, then how can we justify the ugliness that happens between us? How can the leadership of our religious world and our political world (and sometimes they are one and the same) expect us to be more respectful people, when they are the ones setting the example for us? Am I ranting? No, not really. Am I deeply concerned? Absolutely!

I am blessed to wake up each day, and I want my children and eventual grandchildren to be able to experience the same blessing for the duration of their lives. There are so many in our past (and even in our own present day) who are not free to share in this experience, or who live(d) in a place where people make it too difficult to see any reason to feel blessed. This is not the faith I live or the country I wake up to each day – at least it is not supposed to be. I will find the ability to experience a Sabbath of peace when we become more intentional in pursuing healing for ourselves and for each other and in holding our leaders accountable for doing the same.. May we know a Shabbat Shalom.

 

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah
By Rabbi Marc Aaron Kline

What a coincidence of events this week: Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Memorial Day), a Nazi rally in Frankfort, Kentucky, and the death of Dick Clark. I know that you must be shaking your head at my association of these matters, but allow me the opportunity to explain.

Certainly the commemoration of the Shoah reminds us that hate destroys both the victi...m and the perpetrator. One third of the world's Jewish population and entire other minority population groups perished. A total of 13 million people died at the hands of Nazi hate. So too … the Third Reich is dead. With horror, though, we have to acknowledge that hate is not dead. The demonstration in Frankfort this weekend proves that fact. One look at this group’s website accosts the viewer with boldly emblazoned swastikas, SS lightning bolts, and diatribes of hate. That this is the weekend they chose for their annual meeting and demonstration is no accident.

Yom HaShoah is not just a holiday of mourning, though. The remnant minority populations who emerged from the war were not just the phoenix that rose from the ashes; survival became a catalyst to greatness. This same survival is a testament to the truth that good is more powerful than hate (even while there are times when being able to see this truth can be rather difficult). Survival has allowed us to engage the world in meaningful and blessed conversation. Survival set the stage, at least in this country, for the most honest conversation humanity can have - equality. Having watched what prejudice could do to the “other” at the hands of Nazi Germany, the case for a civil rights movement became clear and necessary. I suspect that more than any other factor, the end of World War II was the greatest catalyst forcing us to find ways to recognize each other’s dignity.

When we think of our civil rights heroes, we immediately think of Dr. Martin King, Jr., Rosa Parks, the Little Rock Nine, Malcom X, and even Thurgood Marshall. In light of the hate being spewed in Frankfort, and the memorial spirit of this holiday, I want to pose a radical thought. Dick Clark was a civil rights hero, too. He used American Bandstand and music to bring young people from all ethnicities together. He is responsible for setting standards for dance, music, and (please remember his trademark jacket and tie) even decorum for our youth - and everyone was included. Clark went on his way, doing his “thing” with a lot of fanfare and celebration, but never getting or asking credit for his greatest contribution to society - the gift of egalitarian relationships through the venue of music.

Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that music is the prayer of the soul, and has been the primary tool employed for bringing people together. Whether it is the joint choir singing at diversity or peace festivals, the concerts raising awareness of special causes, the liturgical music that makes worship uplifting, or the symphony that lets us escape into the music of the masters; music fills souls. Dick Clark took what we knew to be the most powerful tool of peace and yoked it, proffered it and preached it. Yes, music has a dark side, but I dare say that, even where I do not like the genre of music, more times than not, it brings people to celebration more than destruction.

So, as I take in the confluence of the events of this week, I take a look at one of the most famous and difficult storylines in Torah. This week, just after their ordination as high priests, Nadav and Avihu (Aaron’s sons) bring an “alien fire” to the altar and are consumed; burned to death by the fire. So many commentators argue that the young men died because of their arrogance. They brought the fire thinking that they knew more than God knew. I have always taken issue with this presumption; it is too simplistic. Martin King brought an “alien fire” to the altar when he demanded that all human beings were imbued with divinity – the same divinity. He was consumed, killed by the fire he started … but his was not arrogant, it was righteous. The righteousness of his cause brought life to our country’s brighter future, even though it took his. The Nazis brought their alien fire to the altar – the fire of hated, arrogance, and superiority, and it consumed everyone, them and every victim. Dick Clark brought an “alien fire” to the altar; his music did not consume anyone, it grew our hearts and souls and brought us joyfully together.

I think we all have the obligation to look at all these fires and figure out which ones call loudest for our attention. Certainly, we can do nothing and let life pass around us. Where there is any change, we have to look at the “alien fire” and assess its value. If it is hate filled, it will serve only to destroy. This reality is all too “real” in this world. This fire stems from the brokenness of the people who offer it, unable to see past their own fear, unable to see a God who exists beyond their narrow boxes. Then there are the fires that are good, but that go misunderstood because of our own brokenness. As with Dr. King, it is taking decades for us to understand the breadth of his message of dignity. Our brokenness consumed him. There are those “alien fires” that cause us to embrace each other; which allow us the epiphany of a vision greater and more healing than anything we had previously known. The Torah teaches us that in every endeavor we have the choice between the blessing and the curse (life and death). Sometimes the text makes this choice plain. In this case, though, the text hides the best answer from us, demanding that we be intentional in our search for the blessing. Life provides us the hints as to what the righteous answers should be. Even while the world suffers from the hate occasioned by so many, we are blessed with the legacy of those who gave us so much. Dick Clark has joined the Rock and Roll Heaven of which the Righteous Brothers sang. As I turn on the radio and enjoy the diversity that exists in mainstream music, I appreciate Dick Clark having left us a little of that heaven on earth, giving us the power to choose life. Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom With A Heart Healthy Dose of Torah -
Shmini & last day of Matzah
By Rabbi Marc Aaron Kline

Every Tuesday, I meet with Christian colleagues for breakfast at a local restaurant. This is the group of close friends of which I often write. This week is Passover. Normally, I never think about the pastries that wait for sale at the front counter, but this week, being that I could not have them … there was a strong temptation. It was really silly, but my stomach growled at the thought of biting into a luscious blueberry muffin … even when I have not had one for over a year. All day my stomach screamed, “I want blueberry muffins!” Tuesday, it was all about the stomach. Coincidentally, the vav in the word “gachon - belly” is the central letter in the entire Torah, and it appears in this week’s Torah portion. The text speaks of the things that crawl on their belly, and hence … should not be eaten. My stomach was fixated on the blueberry muffin which, for Passover … should not be eaten. So, in the middle of the week, my stomach and Torah were completely in synch.

In this Torah portion are all three Torah “centers.” There is the above referenced center letter “vav” (Leviticus 11:42). We also find the very center verse (Leviticus 13:33), which speaks about a priest’s inspection of an illness (usually translated as leprosy). We also find the very center word in Torah. In fact, the word is the last of the first half and also the first of the second half –it is doubled. In Leviticus 10:16, we find the word “dalet resh shin” repeated. The word literally means to make inquiry, and when doubled, it provides emphasis. The context of the verse sees Moses chastising the priests for completely burning an animal at sacrifice and not using its meat to feed people.

I sensed a theme developing in my head, as I thought about these in the context of the text. The entirety of the Torah revolves around the rules of consumption: what we are not to eat, what we must eat, and what eats at us. I do not believe that the biblical authors presupposed that the Rabbis would create an entire identity issue around keeping kosher, but the elements that spoke to my ancient colleagues mandating a food kashrut, speak to me along other lines. The prohibition against eating things that crawl on their bellies seems to me to be an admonition against taking advantage of life less fortunate than our own. If we freely consume these beings, we interpret the Genesis grant of dominion over the earth as permission to destroy and dispose of anything we feel is beneath us. The central verse involving leprosy (or whatever the skin affliction might be), is a stark reminder that we are not just the consumer, but also the consumed, and also that our destiny in life must revolve around how well we interact with each other. The Rabbis have often argued that leprosy is a code word for spreadable illness, and usually one that evolves from our behavior (most notably gossip). The shame we bring upon ourselves when we act badly is as visible upon us, as if it were a skin lesion. In the event of such an affliction, it is the community that must decide when we are clean. The priest will look at the spot of affliction and make a determination as to whether the afflicted is still ill and contagious or whether he can return to society. We need to be careful as to how we respond to each other, less we be consumed by our own destructive behaviors.

The third “middle” speaks of Moses’ diligent inquiry into the meaning and purpose of ritual. His anger at the priests teaches us that we are not to waste the precious resources - the precious finite resources that are under our dominion. It is enough that the animal’s life is taken to sustain our own, but we must not be allowed to waste the meat. More to the point, we have to live with our minds always open and inquiring. Knowing that the two central words in Torah are commands to inquire (even if out of textual context), we commit ourselves to being a people always in the state of becoming. Socrates once taught that an unexamined life is not worth living.

The entirety of the Torah revolves around the command to inquire and act with intention. We are not that much higher than other creatures, we are dependent on and responsible to each other, and we cannot waste the resources that do sustain our lives. These are the “central themes” around which Torah is written. In our rush to get through each day’s calendar, do we take enough time to reflect on these core values? Do we see ourselves in the roles of responsible and accountable caretakers of the world around us? Especially after a Passover week of reminders that we were strangers in the land of Egypt and that freedom is a blessing with tremendous responsibility … I hope so. Shabbat Shalom

Lately, I have been listening intently to a talk show host who has been spending much time on those who would 'deny Christians freedom of expression' and who seek to remove religion from our society, here in the United States.
She has had callers who speak of boycotting stores that do not prominently display 'Christmas' in their buildings. Boycotting businesses where employees do not greet everyone with "Merry Christmas", instead of "Happy Holidays".
And, despite all of this, she maintains that Jews are not really offended by all of this. Or, the Christmas displays at a State House, Town Hall, or...

Well, folks, I am here to say that as the 1 Jew for whom I can truly speak (myself), that:
* I am not offended by stores displaying Christmas decorations, in general.
* I am not offended when a store employee wishes me a "Merry Christmas", because they do not know that I am Jewish.
* I am offended by businesses that overlook Hannukah, or the fact that they have Jewish customers. (Or, patrons who are Muslim, Buddhist, or of other religions.)
* I would like to see a Jewish-owned business play down Christmas decorations and promotions in favor of a 'Happy Holiday' motif. (If not, a Hannukah one.)
* I would love to see and hear the reaction of this talk show host if the above was actually done.
* I do not want my tax dollars going for religious displays. And, if they do, then they should highlight the major religions to an equal extent. (In other words, not a tiny menorah alongside a block-long Christmas display.)

Contrary to her callers' beliefs, there is not a huge 'war against Christianty'.  On the contrary! The problem seems to come in when some Christians decide that everyone should be exposed to their religious beliefs and traditions, regardless of the setting and who frequents those settings.
America is a melting pot. And, religious freedom should not equal unfettered desires of some people overiding the freedom of others.

What do you think? Let us know by writing at: ThoughtsPlus@JewsOnTheWeb.com

Conversion to Judaism
By: Rabbi Celso Cukierkorn

The First Word: Welcome, immigrants to Judaism
By Celso Cukierkorn Published: Jun. 15, 2006 in The Jerusalem Post

What do the divisive debates between Americans over immigration policy and within the Jewish world over conversion have in common? As a rabbi who recently became an American, and who is actively involved in counseling potential converts to Judaism, I have noticed that these seemingly disconnected controversies raise similar questions.
If there are jobs that go wanting, should we open the door wider to those who want to fill those jobs? If the family is already established here with children born, should the journey to citizenship involve fewer toll booths?
If intermarriage, low birthrates and secularization yield fewer Jews, should we make it easier for others to adopt our religion? If the husband is a Jew by birth should the wife's conversion to Judaism be simplified?
If America is truly the melting pot and if becoming a Jew literally means joining the wider family, then what's the fuss?
While I am a Jew by birth, I'm an American by choice, having become a citizen over a year ago. Maybe more significantly, I have worked to guide dozens of Jews by choice on their journey leading to conversion. I use the Internet as a vehicle to reach out to and attract those who might be consider joining the Jewish people.
MANY WONDER why someone not born Jewish would want to become a Jew, and whether someone who grew up in another tradition can truly embrace a new one. My own experience as an immigrant has helped me understand the possibilities for such profound transitions.
I will always be a Brazilian because I love the hot weather, the warm people, and I have wonderful memories from my childhood. But I chose to become an American for a myriad of reasons influenced by adult rationales and justifications. I encountered America's history, constitution, Pledge of Allegiance and national anthem through mature, experienced eyes and ears. I am most confident that I will be - maybe already have become - a knowledgeable and active participant in my democracy.
I made sure I knew where the polling place was a full two weeks ahead of the first opportunity I had to vote. And I was one of the first in line on that Tuesday in November. And unlike the folks on the street interviewed by Jay Leno, I know the name and recognize the face of the secretary of defense, and the senators from my state (Mississippi) and the mayor of my town (Hattiesburg).
My experience is hardly unique. I truly believe that those who make the choice and who work toward attaining the goal of citizenship often become among the most involved and informed citizens.
More importantly, those who left other societies and have chosen to work for that goal in America have a more immediate appreciation of the blessings of free speech and assembly and a more personal understanding of the value of our constitutional protections from governmental intrusion.
Likewise, I know from experience that those who choose to become Jewish typically are more knowledgeable about their adopted religion, more appreciative of the similarities and differences between the various faiths, and tend to be more genuine participants in the rituals, obligations and tenets of our tradition.
Whether they were attracted by the philosophy, the history, the ritual practices, or they wanted to further express their love for a spouse, I would be more than pleased to have the pews filled with converts. For the most part, they are adults who have made adult decisions.
IMMIGRANTS TEND to make great Americans; converts tend to make great Jews - and for similar reasons.
Given this, should it be permanently disqualifying if you entered the US without benefit of a visa if you now are willing to pay some kind of sanction (fine or taxes) and go through a rigorous process to introduce the details and mandates of this democracy? Should there be such a rigid bar to being able to call yourself a Jew or to become a member of a congregation of whatever denomination you choose? In modern times, when religious affiliation is not obligatory, should it be so burdensome to join a synagogue?
I was born a Jew; I was not born Orthodox, Conservative or Reform.
Should we really be using Halacha as a weapon against people who want to convert? Shouldn't we be looking for ways in which Halacha can be used as a bridge for the acceptance of converts? Furthermore, when one approaches a synagogue, why is it that the sincerity of the convert is always questioned, yet we take for granted that the motives of the born Jew are legitimate?
Don't get me wrong. I am not in favor of an open border or a free pass to citizenship. And I do not wish to see a drive-in conversion window at the neighborhood shul.
There should be realistic standards that help the convert establish the basis for a positive Jewish identity, and there should be serious probing and assessment of the correctness, fluency and sincerity of the answers. But the accident of birth does not make someone different or special and does not and should not provide the title of gatekeeper.
I recoil at the self-styled patriots - those minutemen, or is it minyanmen - who want the day laborers corralled and sent home or who want only purebreds speaking from the bima or participating on the High Holy days.
My adopted country needs and will thrive on the infusion of new immigrants as much as my birth religion needs and will thrive with the addition of those who choose to worship with me. I welcome them as should you.
http://www.convertingtojudaism.com/jerusalempost.htm

About the Author
Rabbi at adat achim synagogue and runs http://www.convertingtojudaism.com/
(ArticlesBase SC #467848)
Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/ - Conversion to Judaism

There Are Many Alternative Paths -
Story Of Baruch Spinoza
By: John Vespasian

You should never believe anyone who tells you that you only have one option, in particular when that person tries to justify his view by quoting some trite anti-philosophical remark. Never pay attention to people who tell you that, in life, you cannot get what you want. The ability to find alternative paths is critical to get out of losing situations.
If your parts supplier tells you that you have no choice, find a new supplier. If your internet provider acts as though you have no alternative, change providers. If an expensive computer repair shop tells you that they are the only experts in your type of machine, throw away the old computer and purchase another brand.
Should your bank tell you that you have no other possibility, go and open accounts in three other banks. If your plumber tells you that your have no alternative, learn how to replace the kitchen tabs yourself. When a painter tells you that he is the only choice in town, hire someone else to paint your house.
The life of Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) provides one of the best examples of how a man can create alternatives where none seem to exist. In his essay Ethics he wrote that "the human mind is designed for exercising memory and imagination." Few men in History have shown such extraordinary courage as Spinoza, whose dismissal of conformity estranged him from his family and made him a social and financial pariah.
Born into a wealthy family of Jewish merchants and destined to a life of economic comfort, Spinoza's free spirit already began to outgrow the narrow traditions of his community when he was a young man in Amsterdam.
In July 1656, when Spinoza was 24 years old, the rabbi of the synagogue, after having consulted the elders, gave him an ultimatum. He was to stop asking questions during lectures. He was to stop talking to other young men about tolerance and individual freedom. In a word, he was to stop thinking differently than everybody else in the community.
Although the rabbi uttered his threat in a soft voice, he painted clearly the consequences of non-compliance. Expulsion from the synagogue was tantamount to lifelong ostracism. If Spinoza refused to conform to social conventions, all doors would be closed to him.
"We expect your answer on the last Sabbath of the month," concluded the rabbi, already anticipating his victory. In his view, no one would be foolish enough to throw away a bright professional future in an established community for the sake of some nonsense about truth. On July 27th, Spinoza returned to the synagogue. The rabbi and the elders were awaiting him. "What have you decided?" they asked. "Are you with us or are you on your own?"
"A man must be guided by reason, if he is to remain fully a man," answered Spinoza. "Without the urge to understand and the freedom to search for answers, neither truth nor happiness are possible." After leaving Amsterdam, Spinoza moved thirty kilometres south and created a new community from scratch: a group of free-thinking intellectuals who would spread around the world his ideas about tolerance.
If Spinoza had believed that he had no options, he would have remained in his traditional community and led an obscure life of conformity. As he wrote in his Ethics, "the essence of human thinking is the ability to identify true ideas." When somebody tells you that you have only one way to go, give yourself a break. Don't get upset and don't give a snappy reply. Don't bother. Instead, nod, smile, and move on. You have more options than you think.
JOHN VESPASIAN writes about rational living and is the author of the books "When everything fails, try this" and "Rationality is the way to happiness." He has resided in New York, Madrid, Paris and Munich. His stories reflect the values of entrepreneurship, tolerance and self-reliance. See http://johnvespasian.blogspot.com a blog about rational living.

About the Author
JOHN VESPASIAN writes about rational living and is the author of the books "When everything fails, try this" and "Rationality is the way to happiness." He has resided in New York, Madrid, Paris and Munich. His stories reflect the values of entrepreneurship, tolerance and self-reliance. See John Vespasian's blog about rational living. http://johnvespasian.blogspot.com
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