tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43136658296095263132024-03-05T22:25:41.020-06:00Reforming JudaismFrom Judaism's earliest days, Jews have changed their religious practice with the times and adapted to the cultures in which they have found themselves. In these days, at this time, we continue changing; we continue reforming Judaism.Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-53749339929629068122013-05-24T17:09:00.000-05:002013-05-24T17:09:00.385-05:00Striving to Be Human: Jason Collins's Coming Out is a Jewish Story[Author's note: This is slightly adapted from a sermon I gave on May 3, 2013.]<br />
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I don’t follow sports too closely. In fact, until attending Florida State University, I think it’s fair to say that I didn’t follow sports at all, but it’s hard not to be aware of football when your alma mater won the National Championship the year you graduated. Recently, though, a sports story rose to my attention and perhaps it did to yours, too, even if you don’t regularly follow sports. Jason Collins, a center on the basketball team the Washington Wizards, came out as gay. He is the first active male athlete in what’s known as the “Big Four” of team sports – baseball, basketball, football, and hockey – to come out.<br />
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The <a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/magazine/news/20130429/jason-collins-gay-nba-player/">story</a> first appeared on Sports Illustrated’s website on Monday, May 29, 2013 and is the cover story of their May 6, 2013 issue. Earlier in the week, the story sparked my interest, but not because it resonated Jewishly for me. Being part of the LGBTQ community, Collins’s coming out was a big deal, but I wasn’t sure it really mattered Jewishly. Then, as the week progressed, my thoughts changed. Later that week, a friend and colleague asked for advice in the rabbinic Facebook group. Having written a piece from a Jewish perspective about Collins, my colleague had gotten some nasty comments in a public forum. He was torn about whether or not to respond. As it turned out, the comments weren’t even related to Collins’s coming out. They were anti-Semitic comments because the article was written from a Jewish perspective. Our colleagues, rightly so, encouraged him not to respond.<br />
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It struck me how a story about a man speaking the truth about who he is was twisted into an attack on Judaism, even by people who claimed to understand and support the LGBTQ community, including one comment written by someone who identified as gay. I started wondering how much Collins’s public statement about being true to himself and leading the way for others resonated with what Judaism means for me.<br />
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In the Sports Illustrated article, Jason Collins begins:
“I’m a 34-year-old NBA center. I’m black. And I’m gay.
“I didn’t set out to be the first openly gay athlete playing in a major American team sport. But since I am, I’m happy to start the conversation. I wish I wasn’t the kid in the classroom raising his hand and saying, ‘I’m different.’ If I had my way, someone else would have already done this. Nobody has, which is why I’m raising my hand.”<br />
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To me, <i>that </i>sounds Jewish. Because no one else is stepping up, I must. In Pirke Avot (2:5), Hillel teaches, "<i>B'makom she-ein anashim, hishtadeil lihiyot ish</i>, In a place where no one acts like a human being, strive to be human." There were plenty of reactions to the news about Jason Collins that didn’t deem it noteworthy. With Piers Morgan on CNN, Ben Shapiro, a conservative political commentator, defended a tweet he sent. Shapiro had tweeted, “So Jason Collins is a hero because he’s gay? Our standard for heroism has dropped quite a bit since Normandy.”<br />
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In the interview with Piers Morgan, Ben Shapiro argued that Jason Collins’s coming out was no different than Piers Morgan’s speaking with a British accent or his own wearing a yarmulke on national television. All three are just being who you are and there’s nothing heroic about that. I would agree with Shapiro, except for Hillel’s point. In a place where no one else can be who they are – perhaps they lack courage; perhaps they are simply too afraid – being the only one acts like a human being, being who he is, is courageous, in my opinion. Where no one else like him can yet be a full human being, Jason Collins is striving to be human.<br />
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On the other end of the spectrum, there were those who compared Jason Collins to Jackie Robinson, which is timely given the recent release of the film <i>42</i>, the biographical drama about Jackie Robinson and the 1947 Brooklyn Dodgers season. David Stanley, a member of a Reform synagogue in Michigan and a teacher, athlete, and coach, made such a comparison in a piece for the <a href="http://www.reformjudaism.org/blog/2013/05/02/time-now-jason-collins/">Reform Judaism Blog</a>. David Stanley argues that Collins’s coming out is a huge deal on the scale of Jackie Robinson. He parallels the two athletes, sharing that part of the reason why Jackie Robinson was signed was because it simply was the right thing to do. Like Collins, Robinson wished he hadn’t needed to be like the kid in class raising his hand to proclaim his being different, but he was, and so he stepped up to the plate. He compares the athleticism of the two, recognizing Robinson “as a tough, hard-as-nails second baseman who took [nothing] from no one. Collins has always been the guy who set the picks, takes the charges, knocks guys to the floor – in other word, a tough, hard-as-nails center who takes [nothing] from no one.”<br />
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If there’s a message in Jason Collins’s story for us, it’s the constant reminder that the world in which we live is not yet perfect and that we have before us the task of perfecting it. We can’t just sit around waiting for the world to perfect itself. In fact, reflecting on why he hadn’t come out until now, Jason Collins wrote, “The recent Boston Marathon bombing reinforced the notion that I shouldn’t wait for the circumstances of my coming out to be perfect. Things can change in an instant, so why not live truthfully?” This reminds me, the world is not perfect; we are perfecting it. We can’t do everything, but when we recognize that no one else is stepping forward, we have a responsibility to do so. We don’t have to complete the task, but we can’t be content sitting on the bench, either. Whether or not you’re a sports’ fan, I encourage you to read Jason Collins’s piece in the current issue of <i>Sports Illustrated</i>. His coming out, in my opinion, is a Jewish story. Jason Collins knows that where no one else is able like a human being, being human is a heroic act.Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-34706530192575141552011-05-20T16:14:00.001-05:002011-05-20T16:16:31.413-05:00Stop the Marriage Amendment<span style="font-size:85%;">I have spent the better part of the past two days at the Capitol in St. Paul rallying against the marriage amendment. It has passed the Minnesota Senate and waits only for a vote on the House floor. <strong>GOVERNOR DAYTON CANNOT VETO AN AMENDMENT PROPOSAL.</strong> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />We have heard from supportive GOP leadership how critically important it is that we continue to be a presence at the Capitol to prevent enshrining hate in Minnesota's Constitution. <strong>WE CAN WIN THIS, BUT WE NEED YOU.</strong> Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that the opposite of good is not evil; the opposite of good is indifference. <strong>PLEASE TAKE A STAND.</strong><br /><br /><strong>WE NEED YOU AT THE CAPITOL TONIGHT, THROUGH THE WEEKEND, AND ON MONDAY.</strong> Stay up-to-date through OutFront Minnesota's <a href="http://www.outfront.org/marriage">website</a> </span><span style="font-size:85%;">and be at the Capitol as often as you can. Every minute counts. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Shabbat Shalom!</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-82465248183640506042011-05-13T16:37:00.002-05:002011-05-13T16:52:12.491-05:00Friday the 13th<span style="font-size:85%;">It's been <a href="http://www.startribune.com/politics/statelocal/121678674.html">a bad week</a>. But today is Friday the 13th and in my book, that's a good thing. (My mother was born on Friday the 13th. My brother came a day early on Thursday the 12th.) This week's Torah portion, <em>Behar</em>, contains the verse inscribed on the <a href="http://www.ushistory.org/libertybell/">Liberty Bell</a>: <em>Proclaim LIBERTY throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants thereof Lev. XXV X</em>. (Or, You shall proclaim liberty throughout the land for all of its inhabitants (Lev. 25:10).) There will, one day, be <a href="http://www.ushistory.org/documents/pledge.htm">liberty and justice for all</a>. It may take a lot of work, but it will happen.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-83341671801318579322011-05-06T17:02:00.002-05:002011-05-06T17:20:46.300-05:00Retribution and Restraint<span style="font-size:85%;">I was driving home from the Twin Cities community's Holocaust remembrance service last Sunday evening, listening to MSNBC on my satellite radio. All of a sudden, the broadcast was interrupted by an announcement that in 15 minutes, the President would be making a special announcement, but that the details of that announcement were unknown. I walked in the door at home and quickly tuned my television to the news so that I could see what was so urgent. An hour or so later, the nation and the world knew that a CIA operation in Pakistan had resulted in the death of Osama bin Laden.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">After the President had spoken, the news cameras turned to the crowds forming outside the White House, at Ground Zero, and at other locations around the country where Americans, many of them young adults, were celebrating America's victory. I, however, felt uneasy. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't disagree with the need to have protected ourselves by bringing the life of another to an end. Judaism demands that. In <em>din ha-rodef</em>, the law of the pursuer (Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin 73a), we are told that after warning a would-be murderer, we are obligated to stop him, even if it results in his death. But I also thought of the <em>midrash</em> of our crossing the Sea of Reeds where the angels rejoiced at the deaths of the Egyptians and God reminded them that even the Egyptians were God's children. Later in the week, <a href="http://rabbijoeblack.blogspot.com/2011/05/reflections-on-death-of-bin-laden-on.html">Rabbi Joe Black reminded me</a> of the verse from Proverbs, "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles" (Proverbs 24:17).</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This week, in Parashat Emor, we are reminded of the Jewish law of capital punishment: "If anyone kills any human being, he shall be put to death. One who kills a beast shall make restutition for it: life for life. If anyone maims his fellow, as he has done so shall it be done to him: fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. The injury he inflicted on another shall be inflicted on him" (Leviticus 24:17-20). What I learned today, though, in preparing for tomorrow's Torah study at Temple Israel, is that an eye for an eye, in the Biblical law, was not one that promoted retribution, but rather restraint. In those days, one was likely to respond disproportionately to an injury or death and Torah seeks to limit our reaction, protecting our relationship with one another and by virtue of that, with God.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Was it too much for the U.S. military to have killed Osama bin Laden? No. But it is too much if we don't show proper restraint in our reaction to his death. As one 9/11 victim's survivor put it, this is a time for us to honor the memory of those whose lives were lost, not to celebrate the death of a mass murderer; he doesn't deserve that much recognition.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-50357909804543031612011-04-29T16:56:00.003-05:002011-04-29T17:20:22.066-05:00Judge Your Kin Fairly; Do Not Profit By the Blood of Your Fellow<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>You shall not render an unfair decision: do not favor the poor or show deference to the rich; judge your kin fairly. Do not deal basely with members of your people. Do not profit by the blood of your fellow: I am the Eternal. </em>(Leviticus 19:15-16)</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">This afternoon, I sat in on a hearing of the Minnesota Senate Judiciary Committee, which was hearing testimony on a proposal to place an amendment on the ballot in Minnesota in 2012 legally restricting all marriage to one man and one woman. Unfortunately, <a href="http://www.twincities.com/politics/ci_17957404?source=rss&nclick_check=1">the bill passed</a> the committee and moves forward. There will likely be an same sex marriage ban amendment on the Minnesota ballot in 2012.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">On my way back from the hearings, where I heard heartwarming, compelling, and emotional testimony from opponents to the legislation (not to mention misleading, hateful, and hurtful testimony from the proponents of the legislation), I was listening briefly to <a href="http://www.sciencefriday.com/">Science Friday</a>, which featured Holly Tucker, author of <a href="http://www.magersandquinn.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=2571333&isbn_id=5367347"><em>Blood Work: A Tale of Medicine and Murder in the Scientific Revolution</em></a>. Most of the piece that I caught focused on the advances of medicine regarding the circulatory system and the use of blood transfusions before science knew about blood types. One comment, though, caught me by surprise.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">I had never really thought about the role of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Crow_laws">Jim Crow Laws</a> in medicine. As it turns out, the Red Cross used to refuse donations from Black donors. And even once the Red Cross began accepted blood from Black donors, blood was segregated by race. In the 1930s, African American surgeon and hemotologist, Dr. Charles Drew, developed a method for preserving blood. <a href="http://www.aaregistry.org/historic_events/view/dr-charles-drew-was-lifesaver-millions-through-his-blood-plasma-discoveries">"The American Red Cross enlisted Drew in 1941 to establish a blood bank program in the United States. That same year, the U. S. War Department declared, 'It is not advisable to collect and mix Caucasian and Negro blood indiscriminately for later administration to members of the military forces.'"</a> It wasn't until 1949 that the U.S. Military stopped segregating blood.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Today, of course, men who have had sex with men since 1977 are prohibited from donating blood, even though research shows that <a href="http://www.gmhc.org/files/editor/file/a_blood_ban_report2010.pdf">the policy is antiquated and medically inaccurate</a>.</span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">In the 1940s, Black citizens who chose to donate blood were not judged fairly. In the Senate hearing today, an unfair decision was rendered and a minority is being unfairly judged. We know the cost of such discrimination and it's a price we shouldn't be willing to pay.</span></div>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-26014070067835004282011-04-22T18:15:00.001-05:002011-04-22T18:15:00.554-05:00Tasting the Bitterness<span style="font-size:85%;">Last Friday night I wasn’t on the bimah because I was among two dozen Temple Israel participants – including our 9th graders, TIPTYites, and chaperones – taking part in <a href="http://www.nightonthestreet.org/">A Night on the Street</a>, an annual sleep-out for homelessness organized by <a href="http://www.plymouthfoundation.org/">Plymouth Church Neighborhood Foundation</a>, an organization working to end homelessness in Minneapolis. (Check out a video of our experience <a href="http://youtu.be/g60v1dRadT8">here</a>.) There are 2500 youth who experience homelessness in Minnesota each night. We were part of a group of 400 participants from dozens of faith communities around the Twin Cities Metro who attempted to sleep outside for a night in solidarity with these homeless youth. I say ‘attempted’ because this was the first time in my six years of participating in the event that we had to allow the participants inside Plymouth Congregational Church because of the weather. If you remember last Shabbat, we went to set up our cardboard box villages while snow and sleet were falling and woke up to a light blanket of snow. Though it wasn’t a lot – certainly not enough to warrant plowing or shoveling – it was enough to cause our cardboard boxes to cave in, snow and rain to drench our sleeping bags and clothing. The tarps that we had were practically useless. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I never actually made it into my box. We gathered as a Jewish community at the event around 11:00 at night, along with participants and staff from Shir Tikvah, to mark the beginning of Shabbat. We lit little electric candles, shared challah, and in place of Kiddush, we shared a word about what made the experience holy for each of us. By the time we wrapped up our Shabbat blessings, the boxes were already damp and some were starting to cave in. Most of the teens tried crawling under the snow-speckled tarps towards their cardboard boxes. One Shir Tikvah participant, Naomi, crawled in and out of her box maybe a half a dozen times before coming up to me and asking if she could go home. By the time her father arrived, Naomi was in tears because she felt that she wasn’t tough enough to stick it out. I told her she still had a story to tell, a way to explain a taste of what it must be like to have to live on the streets, when she wanted to convince others to help end youth homelessness.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Around 12:30 am, the leadership decided to unlock the church doors and allow the participants to choose to sleep in Jones Commons, the lobby at the church. In the seven years that the event has taken place, we’ve never opened the church before. We’ve slept through rain and temperatures just above freezing, but the weather has never been so bitter that we had to allow the participants to sleep inside. At this point, a number of the teens were either not yet in their snow-soaked boxes or had climbed out of them, wringing out their clothing and sleeping bags of the puddles that had formed while they tried to sleep. We let them know that the warm, dry church was available to them, but that it was being treated like an emergency shelter. If they chose to go inside, they had to go to sleep – no socializing, no talking. In the end, about three-quarters of the participants and staff ended up sleeping inside. Among the Temple Israel group, we had three staff and a few kids who made it through the night outside. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">At our Seder tables this past Monday night, we read the instruction of Rabban Gamaliel who teaches us that if we have not discussed three things – the Passsover offering, the matzah, and the <em>maror</em> – then we have not fulfilled the purpose of the Seder. When we discuss the <em>maror</em>, the bitter herb, we learn the importance of experiencing life from the perspective of others. The <a href="http://www.ccarpress.org/cgi-bin/pressdisp.pl?list=94054">Baskin Haggadah</a> tells us, “[<em>Maror</em>] was eaten, they said, because the Egyptians embittered the lives of our people, as it is written: ‘With hard labor at mortar and brick and in all sorts of work in the field, with all the tasks ruthlessly imposed upon them’ (Exodus 1:14).” The Haggadah continues, <em>B'chol dor va-dor chayav adam lir'ot et atzmo k'ilu hu yatza mi-mitzrayim</em>, “In every generation, each of us should feel as though we ourselves had gone forth from Egypt.” </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">At first, it seems impossible for us to believe that God actually expects us to really believe that we, ourselves, had gone out of Egypt, that it is neither a story about our ancestors who experienced the Exodus nor even simply a story that never really happened. We should feel as though we ourselves had gone forth from Egypt. How do we begin to experience this feeling? At the Seder table of Wendy Schwartz, our Adult Learning Coordinator, handheld mirrors come out with fabric draped over the top, like a curtain, so that participants can see their reflections wearing what their Egyptian garb might have been. But this is only a start. That’s still just make-believe. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The first step to realizing that it was we who came out of Egypt is to realize, as Rabbi Neil Gillman (in <a href="http://www.jewishlights.com/page/product/MPPHS">My People’s Passover Haggadah</a>) teaches, “the Exodus was not simply a historical event that happened once upon a time, way back when. Rather, it inhabits an eternal present; it is contemporaneous, it is happening today, to us” (vol. 2, p. 74). The first detail Rabbi Gillman offers is that the text does not say that each Jew is required to see himself as having come free from Egypt. Rather, the text reads, <em>chayav adam</em>, each <em>adam</em>, each <em>person</em> is obligated. “The liberation from Egypt has universal significance that extends way beyond Jewish history. He then emphasizes the word <em>k'ilu</em>, ‘as though.’ We are to see ourselves <em>as though</em> we came out of Egypt. Rabbi Gillman acknowledges that their may be some exaggeration in the statement, but what we do have to realize is that as each of us reads the statement, as <em>I</em> read the statement that <em>I</em> was freed from Egypt, what I have to realize is that “I might have been—an accident of birth located me where I am now in space and time, but I could have been born in another time and in another place” (vol. 2, p. 79). </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This is inherently part of the experience that our teens, our staff, and I had last Friday night. We were fortunate enough to be able to experience a taste of the bitterness of homelessness, fully aware that our experience paled in comparison to the reality of homelessness, just as the sharp burn of the horseradish barely conveys the depth of pain that accompanied slavery in Egypt. We were privileged enough to call parents and get rides home to welcoming arms and warm beds. We were lucky enough to have church doors unlocked to us, not to mention sleeping bags and even cardboard boxes and tarps, which though they failed us, were more than many homeless youth have living on Minnesota’s streets. We felt vulnerable nonetheless and that reminded us that slavery is happening today, homelessness is happening today. It is not a story of generations past. It is a story of now and each person must see himself or herself as having experienced that kind of vulnerability if we are to recognize the how at risk others are.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The experience also reminded us and our teens that homelessness isn’t something that happens to <em>those</em> people. It could be any one of us. Any of us could find ourselves a paycheck away from a food shelf, from sleeping on a friends couch, or seeking cover from wind and cold in order to survive the night. And we, the privileged, are often unaware of how at risk we all are when others are at risk at all. Following the Haggadah’s demand that each of us sees ourselves as having been personally freed from Egypt, it reminds us of the value repeated more than any other in our Torah: remember that you were strangers in the land of Egypt. The Torah tells us, more often than any other commandment, not to wrong the widow, the orphan, or the stranger, because we know the feelings of the stranger, having been strangers in the land of Egypt.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Judaism demands that we recognize our common narrative with all of humankind, that we look out for the weakest members of society – in Biblical times they were the widow, the orphan, and the stranger; today, they are the homeless, the poor, and so many others – not only because it’s right, but because we have been in their shoes. In Judaism, it’s no longer about walking a mile in someone’s shoes before we judge them. In Judaism, we have already walked that walk. We must remember it and use it as the narrative that drives us to bring redemption to the world. As we celebrate this holiday of Passover we cannot simply remember our own experience of slavery and our journey to freedom and stop there. No, we must work towards the ultimate redemption that the Seder demands. <em>L'shanah ha-ba'ah b'Yrushalayim</em>, Next year in Jerusalem, is not about geography. It is a hope for the Jerusalem that they mystics envisioned, one that is the centerpiece of a world free from slavery, tyranny, and, indeed, homelessness. <em>Chag Sameyach</em> and Shabbat Shalom.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-43393562359439967762011-04-15T15:00:00.000-05:002011-04-15T15:00:06.202-05:00Orange You Glad I Didn't Say Banana?<span style="font-size:85%;">Will there be an orange on your <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Passover/The_Seder/Seder_Plate_and_Table.shtml">seder plate</a> on Monday night? Whether or not an orange is present, you should know the <em>real</em> story of how the orange came to join the parsley, the <em><a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Passover/The_Seder/Seder_Plate_and_Table/haroset.shtml">charoset</a></em>, and the horseradish. There's a pretty good chance that if you've been to a <em><a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Passover/The_Seder/Seder_Plate_and_Table/haroset.shtml">seder</a></em> with an orange present, you've heard that the orange came to join the other ritual foods on the Passover table in solidarity with the role of women in Judaism and with Jewish feminism. You may even be familiar with the line, "A woman belongs on the <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/practices/Ritual/Prayer/Synagogue_and_Religious_Leaders/Architecture_and_Design/Synagogue_Geography/Bimah.shtml"><em>bimah</em> </a>like an orange belongs on a seder plate." What you need to know is that that story simply isn't true. I know, I know, we may even doubt if the whole story of the Exodus is true, so what does it matter if we're telling the true story of the orange on the seder plate? Well, because whether or not the Exodus really ever happened, it still reminds us to use our experience as outsiders, outcasts, strangers to be sure that others don't feel separated. It still teaches us of our relationship with God and stirs our hope for a perfected world. Telling the <em>wrong</em> story about the orange actually serves against its original purpose.</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;">So, here goes. Brace yourself. This might feel a little bit like (<em>cover your younger children's eyes and ears now</em>) learning that the tooth fairy doesn't exist. Here's the real story of the orange on the seder plate, as documented at <a href="http://www.ritualwell.org/holidays/passover/onthesedertable/primaryobject.2005-07-08.9776011383">RitualWell.org</a> and <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Passover/The_Seder/Seder_Plate_and_Table/Orange.shtml">MyJewishLearning</a> (written by Tamara Cohen), among other places:</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><blockquote><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>One of the newer symbols to appear on many seder plates is the orange. This custom has been around since the 1980s. In the 1990s a story circulated that the orange on the seder plate was a symbol supporting woman rabbis. The following article traces the actual source of this symbol. Though many traditionalist Jews would shy away from adding something to the seder plate, others feel that such new customs reinforce the underlying themes of Passover--freedom and liberation--and bring a contemporary focus to the seder. Reprinted with permission from </em><a href="http://www.ritualwell.org/"><em>www.ritualwell.org</em></a><em>.</em></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>In the early 1980s, while speaking at Oberlin College Hillel [the campus Jewish organization], </em><a href="http://www.dartmouth.edu/~jewish/faculty/heschel.html"><em>Susannah Heschel</em></a><em>, a well-known Jewish feminist scholar, was introduced to an early feminist Haggadah that suggested adding a crust of bread on the seder plate, as a sign of solidarity with Jewish lesbians (which was intended to convey the idea that there's as much room for a lesbian in Judaism as there is for a crust of bread on the seder plate). </em></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Heschel felt that to put bread on the seder plate would be to accept that Jewish lesbians and gay men violate Judaism like hametz [leavened food] violates Passover. So at her next seder, she chose an orange as a symbol of inclusion of gays and lesbians and others who are marginalized within the Jewish community. She offered the orange as a symbol of the fruitfulness for all Jews when lesbians and gay men are contributing and active members of Jewish life. </em></span></p><br /><p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">In addition, each orange segment had a few seeds that had to be spit out--a gesture of spitting out, repudiating the homophobia of Judaism. While lecturing, Heschel often mentioned her custom as one of many feminist rituals that have been developed in the last 20 years. She writes, "Somehow, though, the typical patriarchal maneuver occurred: My idea of an orange and my intention of affirming lesbians and gay men were transformed. Now the story circulates that a man said to me that a woman belongs on the bimah [podium of a synagogue] as an orange on the seder plate. A woman's words are attributed to a man, and the affirmation of lesbians and gay men is erased. Isn't that precisely what's happened over the centuries to women's ideas?"</span> </em></p></blockquote></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;">The problem with the newer - and inaccurate - version of the story of the orange on the seder plate, as Susannah Heschel points out, is that not only are lesbians and gay men excluded from Judaism by virtue of their being excluded in the new version of the story, but that the story intends to stand in solidarity with female rabbis, indeed with all Jewish women, and the voice of the woman - the actual woman, Susannah Heschel - is removed from the story, in contradiction with the story's alleged intention.</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Of course, Judaism has always changed and continues to change. But was we adapt tradition, adding new layers to it, making it more meaningful for us, we must broaden its scope, not narrow it. We must become more inclusive, not less. We must become more affirming and less restrictive.</span> <span style="font-size:85%;"></span><span style="font-size:85%;">Now, if all of that was too academic for you, here's a lighter take on the matter:</span> <br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qYGAhF4-m3M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Shabbat Shalom and <em>Chag ha-Matzot Sameach</em>, Happy Passover!</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-24624433936999305422011-04-08T16:49:00.001-05:002011-04-08T16:49:39.880-05:00Houses and Holiness<span style="font-size:85%;">I've been keenly aware that I haven't posted anything in a while. I'd like simply to say that I have been busy, but that is all too common of an excuse. This afternoon, though, I have made a little time to post. Hopefully, it will continue more regularly in the near future. Besides being busy - I'll get to that in a minute - it's also harder to motivate myself to write when I give thought to the weekly <span style="font-style: italic;">parashah</span>. A few weeks ago we began reading <span style="font-style: italic;">Vayikra</span>, the book of Leviticus. If you know anything about Torah, you probably know that Leviticus is filled with sacrificial laws, ones that often seem far removed from a modern Jewish life.<br /><br />I knew this week's Torah portion was <span style="font-style: italic;">Metzora</span>, typically the second half of a double portion with <span style="font-style: italic;">Tazria</span>. But this being a leap year in the Jewish calendar, it gets a week all to itself. In the midst of the Torah portion are the laws that tell you how to deal with an eruptive plague in your house (Lev. 14:34). The text tells us that if a plague breaks out in our house, the owner is instructed to go to the priest who will examine the house. After examining it, the priest will leave it alone for a week and return to see if the plague has spread. If it has spread, then the affected stones will be removed, replaced, and plaster will be added. This gets repeated again if the plague has spread, hopefully not resulting in needing to tear down the house. Ultimately, when the plague has been overcome, a sacrifice is offered. It involves the use of two birds, one that is sacrificed and a second that is set free.<br /><br />So, how could all of this possibly be relevant? Well, my house is on the market as I prepare to leave Minneapolis and begin my tenure in Portland, Maine. There is a part of me, in reading the laws about a potentially afflicted house, that makes me cringe. Fortunately, my house is in great shape, passed the Truth in Housing inspection (not by a priest, but by a certified inspector!), and will make a lovely home for its next owner (sooner rather than later, I hope). On the other hand, the text gives me a sense of hope. There were systems in place as far back as before our arrival in the Promised Land to make sure that our houses were more than just structures, but homes that are defined by holiness. My house has certainly been that - a home, a holy place, a <span style="font-style: italic;">mikdash m'at</span>, a miniature sanctuary. I hope it will soon be that for its next resident, too.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-21183654097692025642011-03-11T16:45:00.004-06:002011-03-11T17:10:23.100-06:00A Call to Action<span style="font-size:85%;">When </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haiti_earthquake_2010"><span style="font-size:85%;">Haiti was struck with an earthquake</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> on January 12, 2010, </span><a href="http://www.mfa.gov.il/MFA/Israel+beyond+politics/Israeli_aid_arrives_Haiti_17-Jan-2010.htm"><span style="font-size:85%;">Israel set up a field hospital</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> to help the Haitian victims. When </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_Pichilemu_earthquake"><span style="font-size:85%;">an earthquake hit Chile</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> a year ago today, </span><a href="http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3856453,00.html"><span style="font-size:85%;">Israel was among the countries</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> to respond. And when </span><a href="http://www.cnn.com/2011/WORLD/asiapcf/03/11/japan.quake/index.html?hpt=T1"><span style="font-size:85%;">Japan was shaken</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> with a devastating 8.9 magnitude earthquake today, Israel, again, </span><a href="http://www.haaretz.com/news/international/israel-team-of-volunteers-to-help-with-search-and-rescue-efforts-in-japan-1.348614"><span style="font-size:85%;">heeds the call to action</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">. According to <a href="http://www.haaretz.com/news/international/israel-team-of-volunteers-to-help-with-search-and-rescue-efforts-in-japan-1.348614">Haaretz</a>, "The Japanese consul in Israel, Mitoshiko Shinomya, told the Israeli news website Ynet that he was heartened by the Israeli government's offer of assistance. 'Israel officially offered its help an hour after the earthquake struck,' Shinomya said."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">According to <a href="http://www.haaretz.com/">Haaretz</a>, various rescue organizations in Israel will be deploying to Japan (after Shabbat) to assist in the rescue efforts. <a href="http://www.zaka.us/">ZAKA International Rescue Unit</a>, which originally began as an organization aimed at responding to terrorist attacks in Israel, now also deploys internationally to assist where, according to their website, where Jews or Israelis may be affected. Of course, there are Jews everywhere. <a href="http://www.israaid.org.il/">IsraAid</a>, as well, is organizing to send two teams of rescue personnel to Japan, provided they can figure out how to get there. The airports near the earthquake's epicenter are flooded; the airport in Tokyo is shut down.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Israel has among its charges the expectation to be a light to the nations. Even as there the world criticized Israel for her relationships with her neighbors, Israel still responds throughout the world, using her knowledge, resources, and drive to make the world a better place. The Jewish people, no less than Israel, are a people who are moved to action, caring not only for our Jewish community, but the world as a whole, too. This week's Torah portion, <em>Vayikra</em>, begins with a call, "The Eternal called Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting" (Leviticus 1:1). We, too, are called to action.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">If you want to help make a difference in Japan, consider giving through the Joint Distribution Committee's <a href="https://jdc.org/donation/donate.aspx">Japan/Pacific Disaster Relief Fund</a> or through the Jewish Federations of North America's <a href="http://www.jewishfederations.org/page.aspx?id=238775">Japan, Hawaii and the Pacific Relief Fund</a>, both reputable Jewish organizations bringing to life God's call for us to be a light unto the nations.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-70524351936136988902011-03-04T16:52:00.002-06:002011-03-04T17:05:38.055-06:00Pillars of Cloud and Fire (Parashat P'kudei)<span style="font-size:85%;">By the end of this week's Torah portion, P'kudei, the Tabernacle has been completed. The past weeks that we have spent reading about the details of the materials of the Mishkan, their sources and implementation have come to a close and we should have our place where God can dwell within us. But at the very end of the Torah portion we read, "Over the Mishkan a cloud of the Eternal rested by day, and a fire would appear in the cloud by night, in view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys" (Exodus 40:38). It seems that even though we have completed this dwelling place for God, this sanctuary for God, we still need to be reminded of God's presence. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The pillar of cloud and fire has been with us since nearly the very beginning of Exodus, a symbol of God's presence and protection. It stood between us and the Egyptians, it guided us from one encampment to another. And now that we have the Mishkan, it takes up its place letting us know when to move and when not to move. The Mishkan is not enough. It is not enough for us to have a place to worship God, a place for God to dwell with us. We also need a tangible sense of God's presence, something we can see and maybe even feel, the column of cloud, the warmth of the fire. </span><span style="font-size:85%;">Today, it isn't as easy to see God's presence before us. We don't always know when it is time to move and when it is time to stay put. We must look deeper, into ourselves and into the world, to get these signals today. </span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-65873190323045074632011-02-25T18:15:00.001-06:002011-03-02T18:00:10.512-06:00Collective Bargaining and Collective Responsibility<p><span style="font-size:85%;">One hundred years ago one month from today, probably right around this time, a fire blazed at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory in New York. 146 immigrant workers’ lives were lost, most of them women averaging 19-years-old. The exit doors had been bolted shut allegedly to prevent workers from taking unnecessary breaks. When the fire broke out, there was nowhere to go. As Jo-Ann Mort writes, “March 25, 1911, became a Sabbath like no other. Scores of young immigrant Jewish women who couldn’t afford a day of rest went to work at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, a newfangled high-rise factory on the eighth, ninth and 10th floors of the Asch building, near Washington Square Park in New York City’s Greenwich Village. Their employers, Isaac Harris and Max Blanck — known throughout the burgeoning shmatte business as “the shirtwaist kings” — had managed to beat back unionization attempts by the fledgling International Ladies Garment Workers Union. This was the era when Jews were both owners and workers.”</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">First in Wisconsin, now also in Indiana and Ohio, protests and shutdowns abound as the right to collective bargaining is called into questions. Few would doubt that the changes that came about because of the Triangle Factory victims’ experience were a step in the wrong direction. But the conversation around collective bargaining today is a different one. It isn’t news to anyone that many states, including Minnesota, are in budget crises and have to find ways to balance the budget. Some would propose cutting spending. Others propose increasing revenue. The reality is that the solution probably lies somewhere in between. The proposed cuts in Governor Dayton’s budget fall short of the funds needed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">A budget is a moral document. Whether it is your household budget, a synagogue’s budget, or the government’s budget, a budget defines our values and priorities. Each year I get a report from my credit card on where I have spent my money over the past year. When I got my report last month, I was pleased to see that much of my spending last year benefited social justice causes and ethically and sustainably produced food, both values that I say I believe in and that my spending supports. In Wisconsin, Ohio, Indiana, or even here in Minnesota, we have to ask if our state budgets uphold the values that we support. There is no doubt that both Governor Scott Walker and his supporters and labor unionists and those who support them want Wisconsin to succeed. The question is, what is their intention and are they going about it the right way. I’m not going to answer that question fromthe bimah. That’s for you to discuss.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">What I am going to do is talk a bout how we answer that question. In this week’s Torah portion, <em>Vayakhel</em>, we continue reading about the construction of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle in the wilderness. When the Mishkan was constructed, the text tells us that only those whose hearts moved them were to contribute to construction of the Mishkan. This contrasts the creation of the golden calf that had total participation from the Israelites while Moses was up on Mount Sinai talking to God. Why the difference? The Israelites gave of themselves for both the golden calf and for the Mishkan, but it appears as though more people were invested in creating the golden calf. We have to wonder why.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">There is a possibility that they each gave to the creation of the golden calf because none of them knew where their money was going. But when they saw the result of their spending – it didn’t match their morals – they were less willing to give for the creation of the Mishkan, nervous about how their money would be used. Another possibility is tied right into the name of this week’s Torah portion, <em>Vayakhel</em>. <em>Vayakhel</em> comes from the Hebrew root qof-hay-lamed, which is the same root for the word kehillah, community.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">There are two different types of community represented. The golden calf represents blind group solidarity. There is no sense of separate individuality. The people are a nameless, identity-less multitude. But when the Mishkan is created, Moses assembles the people – <em>Vayakhel Moshe et-kol-adat b’nei Yisrael</em>, Moses assembled the entire Israelite people – and addressed them as a community. He detailed the needs and then those who were willing gave to the cause.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">The Mishkan is not the work of one person’s hands. Though one artisan, Bezalel, headed up the labor, it collectively involved the work of all of the Israelites. Each person had the opportunity to leave his or her mark on the structure. Tradition tells us that the women brought their copper mirrors to be used in the Mishkan. One would think that use of something that had previously been intended for vanity would have been an unwanted addition to this dwelling-place for God. Instead, the women’s willingness to dedicate one of their most prized possessions for one of their highest values, worshiping God, made their gift worthy. Their identities, and the identities of all of those who gave, remain central to the notion of the Mishkan. They created a sense of shared ownership, of collective responsibility.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">The community worked towards a collective vision, but not at the cost of the parts and people that made up that community. In Pirke Avot (2:2), Rabban Gamaliel teaches that all those who work for the community do so with a spiritual motive, working with the community. The question in Wisconsin, in Ohio, in Indiana, in any place where we create a budget, is whether or not we are acting with a spiritual motive. Do our actions and our budgets reflect our values and morals? Do we blindly participate and put our own pursuits ahead of the community or are we inspired by our values and seek to bring God’s presence into our community? We can only hope that we consider our place in our communities and act with a spiritual motive creating a mishkan in our own time, a dwelling-place for God in our lives.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:85%;">Shabbat Shalom.</span></p>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-3593744837826443372011-02-17T22:57:00.000-06:002011-02-17T22:57:13.239-06:00Intention Matters: God, Moses, the Israelites and the Infamous Golden Calf<span style="font-size:85%;">The golden calf is probably one of the best known examples of idolatry. But what were the Israelites really up to and why was Moses able to convince God to renounce the punishment planned for the Israelites for creating the golden calf? My theory? The Israelites weren't actually trying to replace God.<br /><br />When Aaron makes the golden calf and takes it out of its mold, the Israelites declare, "This is your god, O Israel, who brought you out of the land of Egypt!" (Exodus 32:4) <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Torah/Commentaries/Rashbam.shtml">Rashbam</a> rhetorically asks if the Israelites could have actually been so foolish as to think that the calf that they had just created had actually brought them out of Egypt. He teaches that the Israelites might have thought that God's spirit was able to speak through the calf, which we know wasn't happening. <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Torah/Commentaries/Ramban.shtml">Nahmanides</a> concurs with Rashbam and goes one step further to say that it isn't the Israelites who couldn't be so foolish, but instead, us. If we believe that the gold that had previously been in the Israelites' ears could have possibly brought them out of Egypt.<br /><br />So, if the Israelites couldn't have possibly believed that the golden calf they had just commissioned had brought them out of Egypt, and if we can't believe that it's possible, either, then why do the Israelites declare that it had and what is their real motive?<br /><br />At the beginning of the narrative, we see that it wasn't God that the Israelites missed. It was Moses. The text tells us, "When the people saw that <span style="font-style: italic;">Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain</span>, the people gathered against Aaron and said to him, 'Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for <span style="font-style: italic;">that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt</span>--we do not know what has happened to him'" (Exodus 32:1).<br /><br />The people weren't replacing God; they were replacing Moses. In their relationship with God, Moses serves as an intermediary on behalf of the Israelites. The only logical replacement in this relationship is to replace <span style="font-style: italic;">Moses</span> with the golden calf, not God. They wanted <span style="font-style: italic;">the golden calf</span> to serve as an intermediary on their behalf with God, because <span style="font-style: italic;">Moses, who brought them from the land of Egypt</span> had gone missing.<br /><br />This, perhaps, justifies why God ultimately renounces the punishment intended for the Israelites. God knows their intention (though it takes some persuading by Moses). It also explains why Moses was so angry when he found out what the Israelites were up to.<br /><br />So, this infamous story about idolatry in the wilderness actually shows us that intention matters. Even when we make a huge mistake (like creating an idol!), our intention matters and can sway the way that others think of us.<br /></span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-63123334676118150252011-02-11T15:42:00.003-06:002011-02-11T16:11:36.190-06:00"Is this burning an eternal flame?"<span style="font-size:85%;">This week's Torah portion, <em>Tetzaveh</em>, begins with the following words: <em>Command the people of Israel to bring to you pure oil of pressed olives for the light, to keep a lamp burning continually</em> (Exodus 27:20). These last few words, "a lamp burning continually," in Hebrew read <em>ner tamid</em>. Those words might be familiar to you. The Eternal Light (not to be confused with 1989 hit single, <em><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eternal_Flame_(song)">Eternal Flame</a></em>) is that light at the front of just about every synagogue's sanctuary. It is the symbol of God's presence in our communities and in our lives. While God commands the <em>ner tamid</em>, it is not there because God needs it. It is there because we need to be reminded of God's presence. We rely on our senses to know things. With a God we cannot actively see, we needed something to remind us of God's presence in our lives.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In his book, <a href="http://www.magersandquinn.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=457162&isbn_id=87904">The Gates of the Forest</a> by Elie Wiesel, he tells a story of the Baal Shem Tov. When the Baal Shem Tov saw trouble for the Jewish community, he would go to a certain place in the forest and meditate. When he found the location, he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and a miracle would occur. The looming crisis would dissolve and the people would be safe. Many years later, the Maggid of Mezritch, a disciple of the Baal Shem Tov, found himself and the Jewish community in a similar predicament, he would go to the same place in the forest as his teacher. Though he did not know how to light the special fire, he did know the prayer and he would recite it. Still, even without the fire, a miracle would happen and the community would be safe. More time passed and another generation came along. The rabbi of that generation would go to the special place in the forest, though he knew neither how to light the fire, nor recite the prayer. He would just hope that God would find his being in the right place sufficient. Somehow it was and the Jewish community would again be safe. More time passed and eventually the task of saving the community fell on Rabbi Israel of Ryzhyn. He, however, did not know the place, the prayer, or how to light the fire. Instead, he sat in his chair, rested his head in his hands, and hoped that recalling the story of the Baal Shem Tov would be enough to save the community. According to the story, it was enough. But it isn't for me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">It isn't enough for us just to tell the story, just to remember that in some distant place, someone else knew what to do and so we just have to remember that something else was done. No. We need to step up. We need to re-learn how to light the fire, how to recite the words, and where to go to put them to action. What this story fails to teach us is another lesson of the Baal Shem Tov. Considering the <em>ner tamid</em>, the Baal Shem Tov also taught: Your heart is the altar. Whatever your work, let a spark of the holy fire remain within you, and fan it into a flame.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So maybe The Bangles weren't so far off:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling. </em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Do you feel my heart beating, do you understand? </em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Do you feel the same, am I only dreaming? </em></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Is this burning an eternal flame?</em></span><br /></blockquote></em></span><span style="font-size:85%;">The <em>ner tamid</em>, the Eternal Light that reminds us of God's presence is also a call to action. It's not enough for us to bear witness to God's presence in our lives. We must turn that feeling into action and spread the light that is within each and every one of us, the spark of the Divine that links us to one another and to God.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-51259340280252911072011-02-04T18:15:00.000-06:002011-02-04T18:15:00.477-06:00Hope and Pray<span style="font-size:85%;">A friend forwarded me an email yesterday about the situation in Egypt. I am sure some of you have seen it, too. “Dear Egypt,” it read, “Please don’t destroy the Pyramids. We will not rebuild them. Sincerely, The Jews.” But the revolution in Egypt is a bigger deal for Judaism than the status of the pyramids that our people may or may not have built millennia ago. The uprising in Egypt has real impact on the State of Israel and on the United States, and on our place in the world as Americans and as Jews.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">As you probably know, the situation in Egypt is moving faster than anyone can keep up and still, we don’t know what the outcome might be. In a piece for <em>The Washington Post</em>, Glenn Kessler <a href="http://voices.washingtonpost.com/fact-checker/2011/02/three_scenarios_for_the_egypti.html">outlines three possible scenarios</a> in Egypt by turning to historical parallels. Could Egypt face “an eerie repeat of the 1979 revolution?” Will there be a transition to democracy like Indonesia in 1998? Or does Egypt face something in between, like “the initial outcome of the Romanian revolution of 1989?”</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The Iran scenario, few would argue, is the worst case scenario for Israel, for the United States, even for Egypt. The Iranian revolution was originally led by moderates, a broad swath of the Iranian population seeking to depose Iran’s Shah, a leader, who like Mubarak, “was an anchor of U.S. power in the Middle East who maintained relations with Israel.” But when he was thrown out of government, the Islamist leadership of the long-exiled Ayatollah seized power, smothering the movement that had brought about the revolution. If this were to happen, Egypt would likely stop cooperating with Israel, especially in regards to Hamas. The Egyptian efforts to secure the border with Israel and prevent military supplies from entering Gaza would all but end. Hamas, could rapidly re-arm and its military power could allow for missiles to reach as far as Tel Aviv and Ben Gurion Airport.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">“This parallel is imperfect – there is no Egyptian spiritual or religious leader living in Paris awaiting a triumphant return to Cairo.” But the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Muslim_Brotherhood">Muslim Brotherhood</a>, an Islamist movement that, though it originated in Egypt, “has long been an illegal but semi-tolerated force in Egyptian politics.” It could be poised to fill the power vacuum that exists in Egypt. Former State Department official Leslie Gelb says, “If they do gain control, it’s going to be almost impossible for the people to take it back.”</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The second scenario, Indonesia’s transition to democracy, could be a model for the best possible outcome. “In 1998, President Suharto’s 32 years of authoritarian rule came to an end. He was another longtime U.S. ally whose departure was deeply feared by the White House. But in the end, the world’s most populous Muslim country made a messy and long transition to democracy – and remained a key partner of the United States.” For Israel, the best way for this scenario to play out might be for Egyptian Vice President Omar Suleiman to be elected to power with true democracy so that peace with Israel could be preserved. The parallels between this scenario and Egypt are greater. Like Indonesia, Egypt has a relatively secular tradition, a strong military that, at least until now, has refused to repress protestors, “and an uprising led by a mix of youth and civic society.”</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The Romanian revolution is more of a middle-of-the-road scenario. Not ideal, but not catastrophic either. In 1989, Romanian revolutionaries overthrew their dictator and assassinated him. “But within months, the military and Communist elite had engineered their survival, with the designated president…winning 85 percent of the vote in a May 1990 election.” Unfortunately, the government continued to control the media and elections were still manipulated. The driving force in making the Romanian revolution a success in the long run was their desire to become a member of NATO and the European Union, options that aren’t present for Egypt. For Israel, this scenario could be ‘good enough’ if Suleiman were to be elected and if there were a few cosmetic reforms that would give the illusion of change. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">However things play out in the long run, one thing is true now for Israel. Israelis feel more vulnerable about security. For over thirty years, Israel has not had to significantly worry about its southern border with the Arab world’s most populous nation. Though <a href="http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Peace/peace_with_Egypt.html">our peace with Egypt</a> has been described as a 'cold peace,' it has been an asset for both countries. Until now, Israel in particular has no longer had to contemplate a two- or three-front war.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">All of that might change. Israel may need to expand its military force along the Israeli-Egyptian border, siphoning money away from other needs in Israel. It is surprising how little Israel has figured into Egypt’s uprising. And this is a good thing. There have been a few random moments of attention on Israel – an effigy of Mubarak wearing a star of David, a sign calling on an end to Israel – but by and large, the protestors have focused their attention internally. They want political freedom and they want jobs. These are goals with which we can all identify. If and how they accomplish these goals, though, is another question.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">We do not know how the story in Egypt will end. Neither do the Egyptians. All we can do is wait. It will take generations to really understand how today plays out for the Egyptian people. In our cycle of Torah readings, we are in the midst of our own liberation story. Only a short while ago we fled, dissatisfied by the life that <em>we</em> had in Egypt. We struggled to change our situation and ultimately, we found ourselves in the wilderness, unsure of our future. We needed a strong leader. There was riff-raff among us, the <em>erev rav</em>, the mixed multitude that left Egypt with us. And there were lots of agendas, lots of people struggling for power and control. In the future, we’ll see <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Weekly_Torah_Portion/korah_ou5757.shtml">the rebellion of Korach</a> and a challenge of Moses’ and Aaron’s leadership. We’ll see Mahlah, Noa, Hoglah, Milcah and Tirzah, <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Torah/Numbers/Zelophehads_Daughters.shtml">the daughters of Zelophehad</a>, challenge the laws of inheritance bringing greater equality among the Israelite men and women. This week, we read the details of the construction of the Tabernacle, which tradition teaches us God had us build not because God needed it, but because we were feeling lost and needed a place to worship God.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In our transitional moment, which lasts a generation in the wilderness, at least, we seek a strong leader who can make sure the people’s needs are a priority. Our text tells us that the Tabernacle was constructed with gifts brought by every person whose heart moved him or her to be involved. Every giver that wanted to offer a gift had to be included, no matter how big or small the gift. Every voice that wanted to speak had to be heard. Only a leader who could respect the rights of the individual and simultaneously make the community’s needs a priority would succeed. The Israelites in this week’s Torah portion, in the weeks and even months ahead, do not yet know how it will all turn out. The Egyptians of today, protesting, uprising, leading a revolution, do not yet know how their narrative will end, either. All we could do in the wilderness was to hope and pray for a leader strong enough to guide us through that incredibly powerful, transitional moment. All that we can do alongside modern day Egypt and its neighbors, especially Israel, is to hope and pray for a leader strong enough to include the voices of every Egyptian, to keep the people’s best interest at heart, and to lead Egypt to a successful and peaceful future. <em>Ken y’hi ratzon</em>, may it be God’s will.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-77001818562299266332011-01-28T15:26:00.006-06:002011-01-28T15:41:33.346-06:00"The Best Kind of Action is Social Action"<span style="font-size:85%;">I've just arrived in Washington, DC with some of my Confirmation students to participate in <a href="http://rac.org/confprog/ltaken/">L'Taken</a>, the youth lobbying conference of the <a href="http://www.rac.org/">Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism</a>. Over the course of the next four days, my students will learn about issues of social justice from a Jewish perspective, worship with hundreds of other teens from across the United States, and on Monday, they will be lobbying their U.S. Senators and Representatives on issues that are important to them. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This week's Torah portion, <em>Mishpatim</em>, outlines a whole host of laws about the ways in which we interact with one another. We learn about the laws of theft and of lost property and of our obligation to the weakest members of our societies. One of my favorite pieces in the text is Exodus 23:4-5, where Torah teaches us, "When you encounter your enemy's ox or ass wandering, you must take it back to him. When you see the ass of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The text doesn't just tell us to return lost property, but it reminds us to return the lost property <em>of our enemies</em>. It doesn't tell us to do things for others, lifting their animals under their burdens, but to <em>lift it with our enemies</em>. There are many times when we don't see eye to eye with others, where we see them as enemies and are threatened by them, either in reality or in perception. What Torah teaches us in this moment is that when we engage with our enemies, however hard that might be, we create real opportunities for dialogue and maybe even friendship.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Over the next four days, my students will wrestle with difficult issues of social justice. They will challenge themselves in what they know about the world and their power to bring about change. They will turn their learning and reflection into action on Monday and actually make real steps to make the world a better place. At the same time, half way around the world, <a href="http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2011/01/28/clashes-erupt-in-cairo-elbaradei-told-to-stay-put-cnn-camera-confiscated/">Egypt is in turmoil</a>. We may view Egypt as a friend - of Israel, of the United States - and we may fear that what lies ahead may make an enemy of our friend. However the turmoil in Egypt resolves itself, we must remind ourselves to continue to engage with one another because without communication there can be no relationship. And without relationship there can be no peace.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-37388588706420658582011-01-21T18:15:00.001-06:002011-01-21T18:15:00.727-06:00The Peace Corps, Tikkun Olam, and Seeing Each Other's Faces<span style="font-size:85%;">Yesterday was the </span><a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/50th-anniversary-john-kennedy-inauguration-call-service-resounds/story?id=12662010"><span style="font-size:85%;">fiftieth anniversary of the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">. As a teen and young adult, I had an unusual fascination with JFK and his family. I have always been intrigued with understanding the impact that the Kennedy family had on what my own responsibilities were as an American citizen. "Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country." We are well familiar with this often quoted line from JFK's <a href="http://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/jfkinaugural2.htm">Inaugural Address</a>. There always seemed to me a natural fit between the Reform Jewish values of social justice and <em>tikkun olam</em>, and Kennedy's insistance that "If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich." Perhaps that is why shortly after the Reform movement created the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/urjweb/2573297582/">we presented President Kennedy with a Torah scroll</a>. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">JFK went beyond rhetoric. He helped to create opportunities for a nation to improve itself and improve the world. One of these was the <a href="http://www.peacecorps.gov/">Peace Corps</a>. In essence, the Peace Corps was created to bring to fruition JFK's inaugural declaration: "Let the word go forth that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans... To those peoples in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break th bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves." </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Upon creating the Peace Corps, President Kennedy named Shriver its first director. This week, we lost one of the leaders of one of those opportunities. On Tuesday, <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/jan/19/sargent-shriver-obituary">Sarge Shriver, JFK's brother-in-law, died</a>. Sarge Shriver "<a href="http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2011/01/20/sarge_shriver_the_peace_builder/">took on some of the toughest issues in the public sphere with optimism and commitment -- poverty, race, unemployment, and access to justice.</a>" Through his own faith, his Catholicism, Shriver believed that we, as human beings, need to meet one another's needs, to be better people. "He saw caring as 'the cure'" to the ills of society. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://blog.masslive.com/opinion_impact/print.html?entry=/2011/01/editorial_sargent_shriver_leaves_a_legacy.html">In an address to Yale University graduates in 1994</a>, Sarge Shriver challenged the students to step away from their own reflections in the mirror and to focus on the world around them. "Break your mirrors!!! Yes indeed -- shatter the glass. In our society that is so self-absorbed, begin to look less at yourself and more at each other. Learn more about the face of your neighbor and less about your own." The Chasidic tradition teaches <a href="http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/3252/jewish/The-Mirror.htm">a similar message</a>.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">There was once a man named Abraham. He had a little store and earned just enough to take care of his family. He was neither poor nor rich, but simply got by and helped others when he could. One typical day, he stood in the doorway of his store, hoping for business, making conversation with passers-by, and welcoming guests. He encountered a stranger, someone who wasn't regularly in his village. Intent upon taking care of others, Abraham offered the stranger a bite to eat, something to drink and a place to put up his feet. What Abraham didn't know was that this stranger was no ordinary stranger. He was the rebbe from another village who was passing through on his way to a wedding. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The rebbe's visit to Abraham's store made him the destination in town. All of a sudden, business was booming and he was quickly becoming rich. He built a brand new house, filled it with wonderful things, and hired servants to care for him and his family. The people of the town quickly realized how he'd changed, how he didn't focus on caring for others anymore. The rebbe paid him a visit. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Immediately, the rebbe saw the change in Abraham's house, the fancy rugs, the artwork, and the most elegant mirror you'd ever seen. "Quite a change!" pointed out the rebbe, calling Abraham before the mirror. "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" asked the rebbe. Of course, Abraham could see himself and his possessions reflected back at him, nothing more. Then the rebbe called Abraham to the window, opened the curtains, and again asked him what he could see. Now, Abraham could see the people of his town. And he could tell the rebbe about each of them; he knew them all. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The rebbe pointed out to Abraham that a mirror and a window are virtually the same, both just a piece of glass. The only difference is that the mirror is coated with silver on one side so that instead of seeing through it, you only see your own reflection. Abraham realized that he'd been spending so much time only focusing on himself. He'd stopped looking out the window of his house into the faces of others. To remind himself of his responsibility to learn more about the faces of others and less about his own, Abraham scraped away the silver at the corners of his mirror so there'd always be a reminder to look out his window more often.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This was the kind of message that Sarge Shriver wanted to send. We cannot only be focused on ourselves. Also, we can't do it all alone. One of Shriver's visions for the Peace Corps was that it would be a program constantly filled with new talent and new ideas, new faces. He imposed "'The Five Year Rule,' requiring all staff to work at the Peace Corps for a limit of five years, [insuring] that the agency does not become stagnant." As an in-law to the Kennedys, Shriver quickly took on the role of "best supporting actor," someone behind the scenes, often out of the spotlight, making the magic happen.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In this week's Torah portion, we encounter Jethro, Moses' father-in-law. When Jethro witnesses Moses' handling all of the people's questions and inquiries by himself, Jethro warns him. Jethro takes note of the endless line of Israelites seeking advice and asks Moses why he sits alone trying to take care of the people's needs all by himself. When Moses tries to insist that the people need him, Jethro tells him he will surely wear himself out. He advises his son-in-law to delegate responsibility and create a legal system so that Moses can share the burden. Jethro isn't only concerned with Moses' well-being, but also with the nation's well-being. it is only if he changes the way that he does things that the people will be able to eventually enter the land in peace.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Sarge Shriver taught, "No free market can ever replace free human services rendered by one free human being to another human being. A 'good society' is the result of billions of such acts." There was a lot that needed fixing in Moses' time. There is a lot that needs fixing now, too. "<a href="http://www.masslive.com/opinion/index.ssf/2011/01/editorial_sargent_shriver_leaves_a_legacy.html">Too many families live in poverty; too many children are stuck in underperforming schools and too many American cynically believe we can't fix what's broken.</a>" But we can fix what's broken, when break the mirror, or even just scratch the silver off the back of it, look more into the faces of others and less at our own reflections, and share in the responsbility of making the world a better place. </span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-85766000572523515312011-01-14T16:38:00.002-06:002011-01-14T16:58:23.551-06:00Waffling at the Water's Edge<span style="font-size:85%;">This week is <a href="http://www.jewfaq.org/special.htm#Shirah">Shabbat Shirah</a>, which gets its name from the Torah reading assigned to this week, the crossing of the Sea of Reeds and <em>shirat hayam</em>, the song at the sea. The <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Liturgy_and_Prayers/Siddur_Prayer_Book/Torah_Service/Haftarah.shtml">Haftarah</a> for this Shabbat comes from the Book of Judges and includes Deborah's song. As the Israelites left Egypt, with the Egyptian army in hot pursuit, they found themselves between a rock and a hard place, well, actually, between an army and the water, with nowhere to go. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">According to one <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Rabbinics/Midrash.shtml"><em>midrash</em></a> (BT Sotah 36b-37a), as the Israelites stood at the edge of the water they began fighting. The <em>midrash</em> first claims that they each fought about who would get to go first, each wanting to be the first one in the water. But Rabbi Judah corrects Rabbi Meir and tells him that that was not what happened. Instead, the tribes were fighting because <em>none</em> wanted to go into the water first. All of a sudden, Nachshon son of Amminadab jumped forward and was the first to go into the sea. Nachshon is honored for his quick action, for jumping in and doing something when everyone else was just arguing.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In the meantime, the <em>midrash</em> continues, Moses was standing by the shore of the sea praying at great length. God interrupts Moses and says, "While you're busy praying at great length, have you not noticed that My people are about to drown in the sea." God tells Moses not to pray, but to call the people to action.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This all reminds me of a poem I encountered years ago. I don't know its source.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">This is a little story about four people named </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody.<br /></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">There was an important job to be done </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it.<br /></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it.<br />Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody's job.<br /></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Everybody thought that Anybody could do it, </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it.<br /></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody </span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.</span></em><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This cute little poem, which I think I first encountered in high school, reminds us to be the kind of people who jump in when things need to get done. There is a time for discussion and a time for praying, but there is also a time for action. Nachshon son of Amminadab knew this. We should too.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-166917967389964042011-01-09T16:01:00.005-06:002011-01-09T16:34:16.058-06:00"And you shall be a blessing..." Debbie Friedman, zt"l, May the memory of the righteous be a blessing<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgneosPC2U9I3JGXLmXPEQanLB63S_wg2_iqSn5oxWWZmyE-xXLtD5BuLcZjUGoJGYi_LuZpSQBuRfekIjC5XjHvSyAiGrNI7_-K3x8FhRjfQBUTFJuYBR3lq9e5YNlDXccU6_a0V1o90/s1600/DebbieFriedman.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 179px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560318048778519090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgneosPC2U9I3JGXLmXPEQanLB63S_wg2_iqSn5oxWWZmyE-xXLtD5BuLcZjUGoJGYi_LuZpSQBuRfekIjC5XjHvSyAiGrNI7_-K3x8FhRjfQBUTFJuYBR3lq9e5YNlDXccU6_a0V1o90/s200/DebbieFriedman.jpg" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">In November 1995, I attended the </span><a href="http://www.urj.org/"><span style="font-size:85%;">UAHC</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Biennial Convention in Atlanta and stayed with our close family friends, the Borths. Their granddaughter had recently been born and was in NICU, if I remember correctly, with heart issues. I visited her in the hospital and then went on to the convention, where in a worship service with thousands of other Reform Jews, I sang Debbie Friedman's <em><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUp2MTfyfrI">Mi Shebeirach</a></em>, a prayer for healing and cried into the shoulder of a friend.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">On a cold February 14, 1996, I drove home from a peer leadership program at my high school to find out that my Aunt Liz had died. My father asked me to pick up my brother from Boy Scouts. I rolled down the windows of my car, frigid air letting me know I was alive, and listened to Debbie Friedman's <em><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8WrShnKTWY">L'chi Lach</a></em> on repeat on my way to pick up Adam and probably on the way home, too. Its words, "and you shall be a blessing," comforted me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">During the summer of 1997, while on staff at </span><a href="http://kutz.urjcamps.org/"><span style="font-size:85%;">Kutz Camp</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">, my friend Emily taught me sign language to Debbie Friedman's <em>L'chi Lach</em> and <em>Oseh Shalom</em>, which I would use a few years later at Debbie Friedman concerts in Birmingham, Alabama and in Jacksonville, Florida, when Debbie would call me up on stage to sign alongside her. Later that summer, while on a day off, a group of staff and I showed up at Debbie Friedman's apartment. (I remembered her address from when she'd announced it from the stage at Biennial Convention in 1995.) She graciously welcomed us in, crazy teenagers that we were, spoke to us about her inspiration and her music, offered to order us lunch, and then walked us to the subway with her dog, Farfel.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This morning, </span><a href="http://urj.org/about/union/pr/2010/debbie_friedman/"><span style="font-size:85%;">Debbie Friedman died</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> in her late 50s in Orange County, California. As </span><a href="http://urj.org/about/union/pr/2010/debbie_friedman/"><span style="font-size:85%;">Rabbi Daniel Freedlander said</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">, "By creating a whole new genre of Jewish music, Debbie was able to reintroduce authentic Jewish spirituality." My own Jewish identity, my connection to worship, and the relationship I have with God stand on the foundation of Debbie Friedman's music and the impact she has had in my spiritual life. Her words and melodies will forever be a part of Judaism. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">To her family and loved ones, we say, <em>HaMakom y'nacheim etchem b'toch sha'ar avlei tziyon virushalayim</em>, May God console you among all who mourn in Zion and Jerusalem. Of her we say, <em>zecher tzadikim livracha</em>, may the memory of the righteous be a blessing. </span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-38504880905891074122011-01-07T16:31:00.003-06:002011-01-07T17:27:36.881-06:00In Every Generation<span style="font-size:85%;">We are on the cusp of freedom. Well, in the Torah reading cycle, anyway. This week, in <em>Parashat Bo</em>, God carries out the final plagues against Egypt and next week, on <em>Shabbat Shirah</em>, the Sabbath of Song, we will cross the Sea of Reeds, with Pharaoh's army in hot pursuit. Our Torah portion teaches us to explain the Passover rituals: "And you shall explain to your child on that day, 'It is because of what the Eternal did for me when I went free from Egypt'" (Exodus 13:8). In the Talmud (B. Pesachim 116b), the rabbis look at this verse and say בְּכָל דּור וָדור חַיּיב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת עַצְמוֹ כְּאִילוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם (<em>b'chol dor va-dor chayav adam lir'ot et atzmo k'ilu hu yatza mi-mitzrayim</em>), In every generation a person is obligated to look at himself or herself as though he or she personally departed from Egypt. When we celebrate Passover and our freedom, we are not celebrating something that someone else before us experienced. Instead, the rabbis demand that we understand that it is our own liberation from bondage that we are celebrating.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In her version of <em>Im Ein Ani Li</em>, <a href="http://www.debbiefriedman.com/">Debbie Friedman</a> links Hillel's words from Pirke Avot 1:14 (If I am not for myself who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?) to the words from Pesachim 116b. In doing so, Debbie Friedman reminds us of our obligation to take care of the needs of others not only because it is the right thing to do, but because <em>we, ourselves, have been the downtrodden</em>, not our ancestors, <em>but us</em>. It is because of the fact that God brought <em>us</em> out of Egypt that we celebrate Passover and Debbie Friedman teaches, with her music, that the debt we owe God for having redeemed us demands that we stand up not only for ourselves, but for others, as well.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This week, <a href="http://forward.com/articles/134540/">Debbie Friedman was hospitalized</a> in Orange County, California for pneumonia. As I am writing this, she is in a medically induced coma, in critical condition. Debbie was in the 1967 Confirmation class at <a href="http://www.mzion.org/">Mount Zion Temple</a> in St. Paul, Minnesota and later went on to become one of the leading musicians of Reform Judaism. Her music framed my Jewish identity in my teen years, helping me celebrate and comforting me. There have been <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbgtVBaT2i4">calls for congregations and individuals</a> to join in singing Debbie Friedman's <a href="http://www.ritualwell.org/lifecycles/healinghardtimes/healingfromillness/image.2005-07-25.6708517725"><em>Mi Shebeirach</em></a>, sending prayers of healing her way. The lyrics can be found <a href="http://www.ritualwell.org/lifecycles/healinghardtimes/SongMiShebeirach.xml">here</a>.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-50023968102536361462010-12-31T18:15:00.002-06:002010-12-31T18:15:00.348-06:00How to Succeed at Resolutions Without Really Trying (or at Least Taking It Slowly)<span style="font-size:85%;">A few year’s ago on an episode of <a href="http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/">Prairie Home Companion</a> that fell on the weekend around Rosh Hashanah, Garrison Keillor wished his Jewish listeners a happy new year and then told everyone else that they’d just have to make do with the year they still had for a few more months. In last year’s January/February Temple Israel <a href="http://www.templeisrael.com/about_us_hakol.htm">Hakol</a>, I wrote about the Jewish significance of tonight’s New Year’s Eve, in light of the one we celebrated a few months ago. I won’t go into those details here, but I will acknowledge, like I did then, that New Year’s Day still has significance for us as people who operate not only under the Jewish calendar, but also the Gregorian calendar.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I try to make my New Year’s resolutions leading up to the 1st of Tishrei, not the 1st of January, but I can’t help but be reflective at this time of year, as well. The changes I make this time of year are sometimes more mundane than the ones I tried to initiate a few months ago, eating better, exercising more, the usual. At the same time, I’m keenly aware that New Year’s resolutions don’t stick.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/dec/28/new-years-resolutions-doomed-failure">In a study</a> done by a British psychologist about the effectiveness of New Year’s resolutions, it was revealed that only about 1 in 5 people actually keep their resolutions. What he discovered was that most of the people who failed to keep their resolutions went about it all wrong. They focused on the negative, the downside of not achieving their goals. They pasted pictures of skinny people on their refrigerators or relied on willpower alone. Of those that succeeded, the common thread was that they had broken their goal into smaller steps and rewarded themselves along the way. Rather than focusing on the bad stuff, they focused on the benefits of success.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">At the beginning of this week’s Torah portion, <em><a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Weekly_Torah_Portion/vaera_index.shtml">Va’era</a></em>, God hears the moaning of the Israelites, who are being held in bondage by Egypt. Moses is told that God remembers the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and promises to bring the Israelites into the Promised Land. God tells Moses to let the Israelites know that God will free the Israelites and deliver them from bondage, redeeming them and taking them as God’s people. But when Moses relays this message to the Israelites, the text tells us that they would not listen to Moses, their spirits crushed by cruel bondage.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Within just a few short verses, we witness the Israelites’ crying out for help and then, when help comes, deciding that they can’t do it; they are overwhelmed. Sounds a little like how we handle our resolutions! And when we make resolutions and break them, we find ourselves feeling dispirited and despondent, like the Israelites.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, why do the Israelites all of a sudden withdraw their bemoaning. And why can’t we follow through on our resolutions? What might the two of these have in common? It might be all about willpower. Apparently, our prefrontal cortex is responsible for willpower, but it’s not the only thing that part of our brain handles. It also keeps us focused, handles short-term memory, and solves abstract problems. <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703478704574612052322122442.html">In an experiment</a> at Stanford University, scientists discovered that people given seven-digit numbers to memorize were twice as likely to choose a slice of chocolate cake over a bowl of fruit salad, compared to people who were given two-digit numbers to memorize. Those extra digits overloaded the cognitive part of the brain making it harder to resist a decadent dessert! Our willpower is so weak that it can be overcome by an overload in our experiences. No wonder that extra cookie, another slice of pizza, or an extra helping of mashed potatoes are so tempting after a hard day at work.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Well, the Israelites’ experience was similar. According to <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Torah/Commentaries/Ramban.shtml">Nahmanides</a>, it’s not that the Israelites didn’t believe Moses when he came to tell them about God’s plan to save them. Instead, it’s that they were incapable of listening because of how crushed their spirits were because of their labor. They hardly wanted to live any longer, even though they knew that relief would come. <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Torah/Commentaries/Ibn_Ezra.shtml">Ibn Ezra</a> agrees, saying that the Israelites were powerless to listen because of how dispirited they had become because of their exile and bondage.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, how do they get past this moment? How do we see our resolutions come to fruition? It’s in our ability to distract ourselves from what’s attempting to set us off course. <a href="http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748703478704574612052322122442.html">In an another experiment</a> – you may have seen one like this – where four-year-olds were placed in front of a marshmallow and told if they could wait 20 minutes to eat it, they’d get another one, the children that could distract themselves from the marshmallow were the ones who succeeded. Some sang songs, others played with their shoelaces, some pretended the marshmallow was a cloud. They knew their willpower was weak, so instead of focusing on the marshmallow, they shifted the spotlight.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Ultimately, God helps the Israelites do the same thing. Moses and Aaron appear before Pharaoh demanding the Israelites’ freedom. But before they appear, God tells Moses that God will harden Pharaoh’s heart and make Pharaoh not want to let them go. This has always been a difficult moment in the text for me. Why would God make it harder for the Israelites to go? Well, if they tried to take it on all at once – like how we sometimes try to take on our resolutions with an all-or-nothing attitude – perhaps they would have quit before they’d reached the Sea of Reeds. Instead, God gets them out in small steps, one plague at a time, slowly motivating them and propelling them towards freedom with incremental progress. God teaches them, as we can learn about the resolutions we might put into place tomorrow morning, that when we are tempted to change course, hunkering down and convincing ourselves we can do it all at once isn’t the way to go. Instead, we have to shift our focus, reward the small victories, and keep our eye on the prize. </span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-67161290343157373122010-12-24T16:49:00.003-06:002010-12-24T17:25:43.195-06:00Chinese Food on Christmas, an Age-Old Tradition<span style="font-size:85%;">Do you know what you get if you subtract the <a href="http://www.webexhibits.org/calendars/calendar-chinese.html">Chinese year</a>, 4708, from the <a href="http://www.hebcal.com/">Jewish year</a>, 5771?</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">No, not 1063. You get the number of years Jews had to go without Chinese food.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This year will be the first Christmas in many, many years that I will not be having a traditional <a href="http://tcjewfolk.com/minnesota-mamaleh-what-do-jews-do-christmas/">Jewish Christmas</a> dinner: Chinese food. I even tried to have Chinese food for lunch today, but the place I'd chosen had gone out of business. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, where'd all this Chinese food on Christmas come from? In reading Galit Breen's <a title="Permanent Link to Minnesota Mamaleh: So What DO Jews Do On Christmas?" href="http://tcjewfolk.com/minnesota-mamaleh-what-do-jews-do-christmas/" rel="bookmark"><em>Minnesota Mamaleh: So What DO Jews Do On Christmas?</em></a>, I found a link to Hanna Raskin's <a href="http://blogs.dallasobserver.com/cityofate/2010/06/so_why_do_jews_eat_chinese_foo.php"><em>So, Why Do Jews Eat Chinese Food at Christmas?</em></a> Hanna Raskin wrote her Master's thesis on the relationship between Jews and Chinese food. I was surprised to learn that Jews' eating Chinese food (not only on Christmas, but in general), was not an experience of our affinity for Asian cuisine, but rather because of our proximity to the Chinese community. Not in Biblical times, but in New York. Thinking about it, I realized Raskin was totally right. The Lower East Side, the quintessential Jewish neighborhood of the last two centuries in New York, the place where so many of us can trace our Jewish roots, <a href="http://gonyc.about.com/cs/manhattan/l/blneighborhoods.htm">borders</a> Chinatown. While I don't agree with Raskin's point that Chinese food is kosher-ish, because the meat is so finely chopped that it's hardly recognizable at <a href="http://kosherfood.about.com/od/kosherbasics/f/treif.htm"><em>treif</em></a>, I do agree with the rest of her points. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">She points out that chop suey was a sophisticated dish in its heyday. Eating it meant you were part of American culture. Also, in Chinese restaurants, Jews look like <a href="http://www.magersandquinn.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=476541&isbn_id=169964">white people</a>; so, while there was persecution of Jewish communities elsewhere, in a Chinese restaurant, Jews got to be just like everyone else. As New York Jewish culture spread throughout the rest of the country, so did the custom of eating Chinese food, especially on Christmas, even for those Jews who didn't have ancestors who'd lived on the Lower East Side.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, whether or not you choose to celebrate Jewish Christmas with a traditional meal of Chinese food, have a Shabbat Shalom/Merry Christmas and remember, pork isn't kosher, unless it's in Chinese food.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-30309251146208393202010-12-17T14:24:00.005-06:002010-12-24T16:49:16.352-06:00Is God a Bully?<span style="font-size:85%;">I am on my way to NFTY CANOe's Winter Kallah, where this year's theme is bullying. The regional boards, teens from Illinois, Minnesota and Wisconsin, have decided in response to the heightened awareness of bullying in our society, to provide their peers with appropriate Jewish responses to bullying and ways to be more inclusive. As I've been thinking about the theme, I began wondering, "Is God a bully?" </span><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">According to Norwegian researcher Dan Olweus, bullying is the repeated behavior of intentionally inflicting "injury or discomfort upon another person, through physical contact, through words or in other ways." This definitely sounds like God's reaction to the Israelites' and others' behavior throughout Torah: following the incident with the golden calf, when the Israelites complain about having left Egypt, and God's reaction to Sodom and Gomorrah, to name a few. In each of these three moments, humankind has to intercede to stop God's behavior. Moses steps in at the first two and Abraham in the third.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">In the narrative of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, Abraham begs God not to destroy the cities if there are even 50 righteous people present. God agrees, but the cities lack even 50 righteous people. Abraham bargains God down to 45, to 40, 30, 20, and even to 10. Still, God destroys the cities. Why does Abraham stop before getting to 1 and why is God still willing to destroy the cities?</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">According to a midrash in Tractate Sanhedrin 109b, the people of Sodom had a bed on which the would make visitors lie down. Anyone too tall for the bed would have his limbs cut off to fit the bed. Anyone who was too short for the bed would be stretched, breaking his limbs to make him fit. The people of Sodom refused to tolerate anyone who was different from them. God, we see, is not the bully, but instead stands up to bullies to defend the victims, those who are bullied for not being just like everyone else.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">In this week's Torah portion, Vayechi, Joseph's brothers become fearful following their father Jacob's death. They are afraid that now Joseph will seek revenge on them for all the wrong they did to him and their father won't be there to protect them. In the end, Joseph tells them that though they meant him harm, God was looking out for Joseph and made sure things turned out well. We might wish God would have interceded and stopped Joseph's brothers, but we can find comfort in Joseph's confidence in God's presence on his behalf.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;">So, is God a bully? In short, no. Sometimes God steps in to actively protect the bullied. Sometimes the bullied can sense God's presence in the midst of tragedy. We have the power - and the sacred obligation - to bridge the gap.</span></div>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-14324218374494001582010-12-03T15:06:00.003-06:002010-12-03T15:34:32.561-06:00A Time for Trust and Belonging<span style="font-size:85%;">While listening to <a href="http://minnesota.publicradio.org/">MPR</a> the other day, I heard the newscaster share the notion that we sing the same songs at various times of the year - holidays, birthdays, celebrations, even funerals - and that this repetition, year after year, of the same melodies, gives us a sense of trust and belonging. The comment was part of an introduction to a story on Christmas carols. I was feeling lucky to have been arriving at my destination at that moment so that I wouldn't have to listen to the Christmas carols in the segment. I immediately began thinking, though, why it is that I find Christmas carols, of all the Christmas-related onslaught, to be the most irritating. Then, I thought about the newscaster's comment. Christmas carols provide a sense of trust and belonging - that is, if you belong. That was it. The carols, the garland, the sparkling trees in the center of every shopping mall across America, the commercials, all evoke a sense of belonging if you belong to the tradition they represent. But I don't. I am grateful, as I blogged <a href="http://reformingjudaism.blogspot.com/2009/12/taste-of-torah-vayeshev-chanukah.html">last year</a>, that during the days of Chanukah, XM radio provides us with <a href="http://www.facebook.com/radiohanukkah">Radio Hanukkah</a> as an escape from Christmas carols.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">But worse than being surrounded by Christmas carols was the <a href="http://www.smartmoney.com/spending/deals/hanukkahs-effect-on-holiday-deals/">article</a> that my friend Rory shared with me. In his piece for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SmartMoney">SmartMoney</a>, <a href="http://www.smartmoney.com/pr/?story=grant">Kelli Grant</a> suggests that, "Even if you’re not celebrating Hannukah, there’s a good reason to wrap up your holiday shopping before the last light on the menorah goes out." Her thesis is that because the American population that celebrates Chanukah (She claims it's 5%, though <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Jews#Population">most statistics</a> argue that the Jewish population in the United States is a mere 2%.) will boost stores' November sales by 3% to 4%, "retail analysts say an early Hanukkah could spell trouble for Christmas shoppers: Thanks to consumers’ extra holiday spending in late November, retailers may cut back on big discounts in December."</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">You read that correctly: Because of the Jewish population in America (you decide if it's 5% or 2%), Christmas shoppers will suffer. The Jewish population will cause the Christmas shoppers' sales to be cut short, costing non-Jews more money. At least, that's what Grant argues.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Both <a href="http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/Jewish_Holidays/Hanukkah/History/Maccabean_Revolt/First_Hanukkah/Winter_Solstice_Festival.shtml">Chanukah</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas#Date_of_celebration">Christmas</a> are holidays connected to the winter solstice, a time when the days are at their shortest, light is diminished, and we need greater hope and greater light. Perhaps we can accomplish this best by seeing how our celebrations help one another, creating trust and belonging, not by cutting one another down.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Chag urim samei'ach</em>! Happy Chanukah!</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-69168351955380264472010-11-19T16:09:00.002-06:002010-11-19T16:41:16.678-06:00"The Seat" and Other Solutions to Sibling Rivalry<span style="font-size:85%;">My brother and I always got along growing up, to the best of my recollection. Maybe he would disagree. But I don't think so. I can't remember a time when we really fought about anything. We had peaceful solutions to any conflict, some perhaps a little abnormal, but we always found a way to resolve our differences. I think one of the best gimmicks we devised was "the seat." When our parents got new sectional sofas, they placed the six pieces in pairs. Two were at the back of the arrangement, facing the fireplace. The other two pairs faced inward - with all six around a coffee table - with their backs on the side walls of the family room. On one side, one of the pieces sat about 4 feet away from the television. This was <em>the seat</em>. It came with the privilege both of being able to be closest to the television and also was situated right next to one of the vents, providing the perfect supply of air conditioning or heating.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I imagine that most siblings would have fought over 'the seat.' There would have been mad dashes to get there first, brothers shoved out of the way, and sisters thrown to the floor. But not at our house. Adam and I devised a system, a set of rules that governed who got 'the seat.' (My brother tells me that I was like a third parent for him growing up; I may have devised the rules and forced them upon him, but you'd have to check with him to be certain.) There were two simple rules:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><blockquote><p><span style="font-size:85%;">1) Each day, we would alternate who got 'the seat.'</span></p><p>2) If your birthday fell on a day on which you wouldn't have gotten 'the seat,' the alternation would switch so you would have 'the seat' on your birthday.</p></blockquote></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I don't think the system ever failed. This, however, wasn't the case with Jacob and Esau. If you remember two weeks ago, in <a href="http://reformingjudaism.blogspot.com/2010/11/when-you-cut-one-finger-whole-hand.html"><em>Parashat Tol'dot</em></a>, Jacob steals the birthright from his brother, Esau, and then steals their father's blessing, too. But this week, the brothers have worked through (some of) their differences and reunite after a long estrangement. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In <a href="http://www.jtsa.edu/PreBuilt/ParashahArchives/jpstext/vayishlah.shtml">Genesis 33</a>, the brothers reunite. Jacob arrives with his wives, his maidservants, and all of his children. Esau arrives with four hundred men, ready to engage in battle. When Esau sees Jacob with his family, he runs to greet his brother and, weeping, kisses him. (<a href="http://reformingjudaism.blogspot.com/2009/12/taste-of-torah-vayishlach.html">Last year</a>, I discussed the rabbis' concern about Esau's sincerity and intention in the moment of his embrace with Jacob. This year, I'd like to assume he was well intentioned. There's nothing in the text that really indicates he wasn't.) When Esau asks Jacob why he's brought the whole family along, Jacob tells him he wants to please his brother. Jacob offers Esau gifts, which Esau refuses. "I have enough, my brother; let what you have remain yours," Esau tells Jacob. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">The two argue back and forth for a while, but ultimately, Esau tells Jacob he doesn't have to offer gifts to make up for their difficult past, but Jacob insists. When the time comes to move along, Esau, in a moment that I think demonstrates his sincerity, offers to travel at Jacob's pace. Jacob has his family, including small children, and his livestock, all of whom cannot travel as quickly as Esau's army. In this moment of compassion, Esau affirms his intention to walk alongside Jacob, something they might not have ever done before. When Jacob insists that Esau go ahead, that his family would slow down Esau, Esau offers some of his men to protect Jacob and his family. Later in the <em>parashah</em>, Esau and Jacob are present when their father dies and, together, they bury him.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In spite of their lifelong estrangement, in spite of the ways they treated each other in the past, Jacob and Esau find a way to walk side by side and to recreate their bond to one another. No one's relationship with his or her sibling is perfect. There will be conflict, there will be times when our differences overpower us. Still, Jacob and Esau teach us that there are always opportunities to stand (or sit) side by side, if we just take advantage of those opportunities. </span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4313665829609526313.post-46066359509206764462010-11-12T14:41:00.007-06:002010-11-12T15:29:05.816-06:00Ufaratzta - Spread Peace in Every Direction<span style="font-size:85%;">In the midst of Jacob's dream, after he sees angels ascending and descending a ladder that reaches heaven, God tells him that his descendants will be like the dust of the earth, spreading out to the west and to the east, to the north and to the south, <span style="font-size:130%;">ופרצת ימה וקדמה וצפנה ונגבה</span> (Genesis 28:14). These words make up a song, <em>Ufaratzta</em>, that I learned as a participant at the Reform movement's youth leadership summer camp, <a href="http://kutz.urjcamps.org/">Kutz Camp</a>, from Cantor Ellen Dreskin. The song, apparently, was written by Avi Maslo. I always knew how the words translated, but never really thought about what they meant in my understanding of Judaism. Let's unpack the meaning of the words:</span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">ימה</span><span style="font-size:85%;">, <em>yamah</em>:<em> </em>towards the Mediterranean sea, to the west;</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">קדמה</span>, <em>keidmah</em>: towards the early part of the day, to the east; </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">צפנה</span>, <em>tzafonah</em>: towards the hidden, to the north;</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;">נגבה</span>, <em>negbah</em>: towards the Negev desert, to the south.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">These aren't just words that tell us that Jacob's descendants will spread out in all directions, but specifically that they will fill what we come to understand as the Land of Israel, as the Hebrew Bible sees it. It's all well and good if we believe, today, that the people Israel should inhabit all of the land from east to west, from north to south, but I am one who believes that if the State of Israel is to remain democratic and Jewish, we need to find a peaceful, two-state solution with the Palestinians.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">So, then, what do we make of God's words spoken to Jacob? Are they meant to be understood literally? Do they have a different message for us today, with our awareness of the reality in Israel and with her neighbors? I hadn't really given much thought to the meaning behind the words of <em>Ufaratzta</em> until yesterday morning when I was reminded of another version of <em>Ufaratzta</em>, one by <a href="http://www.noamkatz.com/">Noam Katz</a>, that re-interprets the words in a modern context. You can hear the song here:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bT*xJmx*PTEyODk1OTYzMjE3MTgmcHQ9MTI4OTU5NjM3MjU*NSZwPTI3MDgxJmQ9cHJvX3BsYXllcl9maXJzdF9nZW4mZz*xJm89/NzViY2VhNTg2Zjk2NDYzMDg3N2I5M2NjZWQ*MzcwYzUmb2Y9MA==.gif" width="0" height="0" /><embed height="300" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" align="top" width="180" src="http://cache.reverbnation.com/widgets/swf/40/pro_widget.swf" bgcolor="#ffffff" loop="false" wmode="transparent" quality="best" allowscriptaccess="always" allownetworking="all" allowfullscreen="true" seamlesstabbing="false" flashvars="id=artist_265615&skin_id=PWAS1008&font_color=333333&auto_play=false&shuffle=false&song_ids=2041628"></embed><br /><img style="WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px; VISIBILITY: hidden" border="0" src="http://www.reverbnation.com/widgets/trk/40/artist_265615//t.gif" width="0" height="0" /><img border="0" src="http://a.triggit.com/px?u=reverbnation&rtv=265615wd,Folk,Jewish,World" width="1" height="1" /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">In his version, Noam Katz uses the Hebrew as the chorus, but re-interprets the meaning of the words in the way he translates them in the verses of the song:</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you... may you always try to inspire.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you... may you always try to reach higher and higher.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you bring your goodness and may you bring peace.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you spread it from the west to the east.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you spread it from the north to the south.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you... may you be a light that shines the way.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you... may you be a blessing each and every day.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you let the laughter and love increase.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">May you spread it from the west to the east.<br />May you spread it from the north to the south.</span></em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Instead of a vision of manifest destiny, Noam Katz teaches us that it isn't spreading ourselves east and west, north and south, that God intends. Instead, God expects us to inspire others and elevate ourselves to a place where we bring laughter and love, goodness and peace into a world in much need of those blessings and more.</span>Jaredhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10607439494347185937noreply@blogger.com0