Showing posts with label Conservative Judaism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conservative Judaism. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 26, 2023

In This Moment: A Time for Embracing; Defining Ourselves as a Conservative Congregation

 

In This Moment

click for pdf of Jpost front page.

As you can see, six more IDF soldiers were killed today.

Marc Schulman reports that things are also heating up in the north, and there is no end in sight.


A Time for Embracing

The news from Israel could not be more depressing right now. High casualties on both sides and slogging battles amidst the wreckage and in Hamas tunnels. While it appears that Israel is making progress in degrading Hamas, it is hard to measure it, much less understand whether it brings Israelis any closer to safety - and the release of the hostages.


For a people of words, there are no words right now. And that, perhaps, is how it should be.


Ecclesiastes wrote that there is a time to speak and a time for silence. This is a moment when very little that we say can be helpful. All we can do is extend our arms and embrace. This is a time for embracing.


In "normal" circumstances, we would already be beyond the time when a ceasefire would be in order. But despite the enormous death toll in Gaza, the fact that Hamas embeds itself among civilians makes almost any response justifiable until Hamas relinquishes control of Gaza and returns the hostages. And we are not close to that yet, it seems.


And even if "justifiable" does not equal "justified," and even if we now have every reason to believe that Netanyahu is acting more for political survival than military or moral considerations, there is still nothing we can say that would seem right at this moment. We can't pressure Israelis, even if we feel a proposal, like the one currently being circulated, reportedly, by the Saudis, makes some sense, given the trauma they are still experiencing every waking moment. We can only hug them, as President Biden has continued to do, at least in public.


As I was driving today, a song randomly came on my playlist. It was a version of a popular Israeli hit from a few years ago, Yihye B'Seder, "It will be OK," sung by the mixed Israeli-Palestinian Youth Choir based in Jerusalem's YMCA. I've spoken about them before. It was perfect - just what the doctor ordered.


But then I wondered: Are Israelis still saying B'Seder at all? it was the classic response to any dilemma, any hard time. It will be OK. Not only that - but it will be Sababa! Things will be great!


I swear, Israelis used to be born saying b'seder. If they happened to say Abba or Ima first, it was an anomaly. Now not even cabdrivers are saying it.


I'll venture to guess that no one in Israel is saying Sababa much these days, either. But how can Israel be Israel without B'Seder?


Listen to the Arabic-Hebrew song below, with English subtitles. It's a great song, especially when sung by that group.

Maybe that song sung by that group can give you hope. It gave me a little.


But it reminded me that Israelis have lost much of that hope, that optimistic, can-do spunk that sustained them for so long. And for good reason. They've all lost loved ones, and for them, everyone is family. All those faces in the daly newspapers. They have lost so much and are at a loss as to what has happened.


I've been saying it all along. The devastation of Oct. 7 is without precedent. The trauma is beyond measure. It doesn't give Israel license to commit war crimes (not that I'm asserting that any have been committed thus far). But it also doesn't give us license to treat this as some military chess game where we are just hoping Israel can gain a strategic advantage. This is not business as usual, and on some level, even Israel's detractors get it. Even the Egyptians and Saudis seem to get it.


There will be no celebration among Jews when the guns stop firing. The question we must ask is not whether there will be a celebration if, say, Israel earns a clear victory and the hostages all come home, but whether, even if that happens, Israelis and diaspora Jews will ever be able to celebrate again. Will we ever be able to march around and dance with the Torahs on Simhat Torah again? Will things ever be b'seder again?


I can't answer that. But I suspect that it will get better, because if we could find a way to sing, dance, get married and have babies after the Holocaust, we can find joy, somehow, even after this.


But in the meantime, there are no words.


This is a time for embracing.

TBE Milestones:

Defining Ourselves as a Conservative Congregation


As we reach my final months as TBE's senior rabbi, I'm sharing some key moments and events from the past 37 years


In the last years of the 20th century, the Conservative Movement tried to define itself, something that it never really had done before. The publication of the product of those efforts, Emet V'Emunah (you can read the pdf of the entire document here) was a true landmark, but its flaws reflected the drawbacks of the movement as a whole. The document tried to be all things to all people and to paper over major areas of conflict. It was a valiant attempt to take seriously the ideology of a movement that had been created less from ideology than sociology. Conservative Judaism was intended to be waystation between the restrictive Orthodoxy of its forbearers and a more modern expression of tradition that would enable new immigrants to make it in America. 


By the late 1990s, well into my first decade here, Beth El underwent its own identity crisis. While it was true that we were members of the United Synagogue and while our liturgy was well in line with the movement, many of our practices were outliers with regards to how the movement was evolving. We used the organ, which was a source of much consternation, and in fact had led, over the span of decades, to many Conservative-oriented Jews not joining here. We also were formal and monolithic in our style of prayer. There was little room for pluralistic expression and none at all for some of the innovative styles being developed within Havurot (fellowship groups that had been founded during the '60s counter culture in Boston and elsewhere), and its D.I.Y. bestseller, "The Jewish Catalog," and also among those involved with Camp Ramah and other bastions of counterculture creativity. When I arrived, it felt as if the '60s had never had happened here.


So the generational change I brought in the '90s came as a shock to the system. What was doubly shocking was that as Associate Rabbi, I could only go so far in introducing change, so when I became Senior Rabbi, and began implementing some reforms, some people felt like "another Josh" had taken over my body. And in a way it was, a Josh whose vision reflected the innovation, pluralism and activism that was the Conservative Judaism that I grew out of, in countercultural Boston, as well as at Ramah, Brown and JTS.


But however different I seemed, and I was hardly a radical, even that mattered little, because whenever a new rabbi takes over, it's always going to be a shock to the system. It's not just true for rabbis. I was told by a colleague and close friend, Gary Brown, pastor of First Congregational Church, that the point of friction usually happens between years three and five of a new clergy's tenure - for those lucky enough to stick around that long.


And sure enough, that's precisely what happened here, in the mid to late '90s. It was a classic battle of the "old guard" vs the new, with new leadership clamoring for more innovation (which for many meant less organ) and opportunities for diverse and more lay led services - a staple of the havurah movement. We experimented with different formats, which people accepted as long as it was relegated to Shabbat (since, frankly, those whom it would bother were rarely here to see it on Shabbat). But once the suggestion arose to offer an alternative service on the High Holidays too, it was not well received. Rumors sprung up of a conspiracy to make us "orthodox," which couldn't be further from the truth.


There was also a financial aspect to this friction, with the old guard seeking to implement strict financial controls to get us out of a hole (as they had recently done at the JCC), and the younger leadership opted to change the paradigm completely, assessing the congregation $200 per family to get us out of the red and then implementing new, more democratic and transparent fundraising strategies, which led to our first High Holidays appeal. It was a complete overhaul that energized the congregation, but at the same time made some feel uncomfortable, feeling that the synagogue they had grown up with had changed irrevocably.


It was at that point that I tried to draw the entire congregation into a conversation about what Conservative Judaism is - and to engage in strategic planning as to what TBE should become. I sent out a packet that included a fact sheet pertaining to some of the issues we were dealing with then, along with a chapter from a book explaining Conservative Judaism in detail.


I'm sure some of you are cringing at my dredging up prior moments of tension. The fact is that such moments are completely normal in an organization in transition. The key is to be able to recognize the dynamics of what is happening, to hear people's concerns and mitigate against any unnecessary damage.


As TBE faces the coming transitional years, there be similar moments of institutional tension. I guarantee it. You can call me in 3-5 years and let me know. I'll be on the beach. And while this transitional tension will be manifested in any number of ways, it always comes back to the rabbi. Even when people say it is about something else, it always comes back to the rabbi. That's why we get the big bucks.


Even in the healthiest of situations, it happens. I know, because our situation was about as healthy as it gets. I may have been "another Josh" in practice, but I was still the same person, and we knew each other well by the time I became senior rabbi in 1992. Your next rabbi will not have that advantage, and neither will you.


We have once again affiliated with the Conservative Movement. Over the next several years, you and your new rabbi will be engaged in a vigorous exploration of what that means. That conversation, which has never really been completed from the late '90s, needs to happen again and again.


See below the first page of the material I sent out to the congregation back in the late '90s below: Click here for the rest of the material, which includes my rebuttal to the accusation that we were becoming "Orthodox." (the chapter is somewhat dated but still relevant).

Three more timely parodies from Eretz Nehederet

Israel's Front Pages


Jerusalem Post

Ha'aretz

Yediot Ahronot


Recommended Reading




Temple Beth El
350 Roxbury Road
Stamford, Connecticut 06902
203-322-6901 | www.tbe.org
  
A Conservative, Inclusive, Spiritual Community

Thursday, August 24, 2023

In This Moment: The Rabbi Who Spoke Before King; Creatures, Great and Small; Driving on Shabbat, Revisited, But With a Twist

 

In This Moment

"Up on the Roof: As Peaceful as Can Be"


When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, so that you do not bring bloodguilt on your house if anyone should fall from it.


From this week's portion of Ki Tetze, Deut. 22:7


Right smack dab in the middle of town, I've found a paradise that's trouble proof...

On the roof, it's peaceful as can be; and there the world below can't bother me

Carole King, Gerry Goffin




Click to enlarge these photos and see my "Jerusalem Rooftops" album



Shabbat Shalom!


It looks like the weather will be bringing us indoors this Shabbat (after some gorgeous days during the week), but lots to to look forward to, including Friday night's barbecue and special musical service, plus an ufruf on Shabbat morning for Harrison Shapiro and Elena Reiss. Mazal tov to them and their families.

60 Years Ago...

The Rabbi Who Spoke Out at the March on Washington

Sixty years ago this weekend, Rabbi Joachim Prinz, a Holocaust survivor, drew the speaking slot just before Martin Luther King in the March on Washington. Hear his story in the feature above and watch his unedited speech below. Click here for a site commemorating his career.


Click here for the March on Washington website. And here for the ADL's dedicated site.

The Speech


I speak to you as an American Jew.


As Americans we share the profound concern of millions of people about the shame and disgrace of inequality and injustice which make a mockery of the great American idea.

As Jews we bring to this great demonstration, in which thousands of us proudly participate, a two-fold experience -- one of the spirit and one of our history.


In the realm of the spirit, our fathers taught us thousands of years ago that when God created man, he created him as everybody's neighbor. Neighbor is not a geographic term. It is a moral concept. It means our collective responsibility for the preservation of man's dignity and integrity.


From our Jewish historic experience of three and a half thousand years we say:


Our ancient history began with slavery and the yearning for freedom. During the Middle Ages my people lived for a thousand years in the ghettos of Europe . Our modern history begins with a proclamation of emancipation.


It is for these reasons that it is not merely sympathy and compassion for the black people of America that motivates us. It is above all and beyond all such sympathies and emotions a sense of complete identification and solidarity born of our own painful historic experience.


When I was the rabbi of the Jewish community in Berlin under the Hitler regime, I learned many things. The most important thing that I learned under those tragic circumstances was that bigotry and hatred are not the most urgent problem. The most urgent, the most disgraceful, the most shameful and the most tragic problem is silence.


A great people which had created a great civilization had become a nation of silent onlookers. They remained silent in the face of hate, in the face of brutality and in the face of mass murder.


America must not become a nation of onlookers. America must not remain silent. Not merely black America , but all of America . It must speak up and act,. from the President down to the humblest of us, and not for the sake of the Negro, not for the sake of the black community but for the sake of the image, the idea and the aspiration of America itself.


Our children, yours and mine in every school across the land, each morning pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States and to the republic for which it stands. They, the children, speak fervently and innocently of this land as the land of "liberty and justice for all."


The time, I believe, has come to work together — for it is not enough to hope together, and it is not enough to pray together — to work together that this children's oath, pronounced every morning from Maine to California, from North to South, may become. a glorious, unshakeable reality in a morally renewed and united America.

Conservative Judaism revisits driving on Shabbat

Spoiler: It's still OK...or not

But what if the car has no driver?????

Last Shabbat we had an interesting discussion about the Conservative movement's two new responsa on the question of whether it is halachically feasible to drive to a synagogue on Shabbat using an electric car. As has become a hallmark of our movement, the two rulings supported either side of the argument, resulting in a Tevye-like "You're right, you're right and you're also right." Aside from the EV car issue, the major (and practically speaking, only) difference between this and the prior rulings in this issue back in the 1950s was that there was a concerted effort to empathize with the the other side, making it easier to support both of these diametrically opposing positions.


As is stated in one of the op-eds included in the discussion packet (below on the left), the decision can be seen as being out of touch with the current, shrunken movement, where there are many questions that are far more relevant to congregants than this one. As we were discussing these rulings last Shabbat, it did not escape me that all but one or two of those in the room had driven to get here. Now that the Jewish people have established a firm beachhead in Doral Farms, more congregants may be walking here on Shabbat, but it's doubtful that anyone will confuse Roxbury Rd. for Borough Park very soon.


Still, these rulings highlight the need to take Jewish practice seriously, especially regarding Shabbat - and also that we should be respectful of those who both more observant and less observant than we might be. That point was emphasized especially by the authors of the teshuvah who concluded that driving an electric car is still not allowed, though it's halachically less problematic than driving an old fashioned combustion-propelled vehicle. You can see some of this outreach to the other side in the summary on pages 3 and 4 of the packet below on the left. The approach is both sympathetic and a little condescending.


I do agree that there are more important items on our plate and one of them is whether the Conservative Movement is still relevant at all. It was created a century ago in order to help Jews become more American and it succeeded beyond its founders' wildest dreams. But now the key question is just the opposite: how do we assist acculturated Americans to become more Jewish.


Synagogues remain the center of Jewish community life and it makes sense to keep as many as possible in that orbit, even if they have to drive to get there. "Stay home next Shabbat!" should not be our motto. Should Conservative shuls build high-rise Shabbat apartments in their parking lots? Should Shabbos Goys be hired to turn on every electric car in the congregation? Elvis Presley was once a Shabbos Goy; he turned on lights at a local synagogue. Imagine him revving your electric car, which would undoubtedly be "all shook up" by the time you get into it.


Those who ruled against using EV cars on Shabbat are, predictably, urban dwellers and not pulpit rabbis. And perhaps there could be different practices in places like NYC, where synagogues are within walking distance of just about anywhere. But out here in the burbs the question seems like an exercise in Torah for its own sake, and laughably out of touch with issues that really matter, at a time when Hawaii is burning up, California is under water and burning up simultaneously (and "all-shook-up" by an earthquake), and women's bodies are being violated by the most repugnant laws imaginable. People need to hop into their EVs to get guidance on these matters - and they need to hop here, to their synagogues on Shabbat. Or, in some places like San Francisco, they can hop into a driverless car (yes, it's permitted on Shabbat)



And finally, while the fact that there are multiple "right" answers highlights the pluralistic nature of Conservative Judaism, there are limits to pluralism. Many of us can recall how divisive it was to have two legitimate options on opposite sides of the issue of LGBTQ marriage in the mid 2000's. Our cantor, a lesbian, was denied the opportunity to lead services on the pulpit of a neighboring Conservative congregation, one that adopted the negative ruling on that issue, which led to much consternation and confusion. It's unlikely that that will happen with these two decisions, but it will test the movement's live-and-let-live approach when it comes to the wide disparity of observance levels.


Of course, this is just a dress rehearsal for the next big hurdle - interfaith marriage, coming soon to a Conservative pulpit near you.


Stay tuned.

Click for discussion materials ------ Click for the two responsa

Creatures, Great and Small

As we look back at some of my favorite moments over the past 37 years, this commentary on this week's portion of Ki Tetze from 2018 is one of my all-timers. Not only did I write about a topic near and dear to me - kindness to animals, but I got to share some of the photos of animals that I had recently taken while visiting Israel and Asia. That orangutan above is from Borneo.


Click here for the full "Creatures Great and Small" album from those travels in 2018.


James Herriot wrote in All Creatures Great and Small:  


If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.


Judaism has a rich tradition emphasizing kindness to animals, a mitzvah known in Hebrew as "Tza'ar ba'alay chayim," literally "feeling the pain of living things." We should feel their pain - and we can be inspired by them too.

                     

Among the highlights of my recent excursion to Israel and Southeast Asia were the opportunities to interact with God's creatures, great and small, living in their habitat. We got up-close to elephants and tigers in Thailand, ibex and hyrax in Israel and monkeys and orangutan in Indonesia. Below is a sampling of the photos I took. 


We read in this week's portion of Ki Tetze:


If, along the road, you chance upon a bird's nest, in any tree or on the ground, with fledglings or eggs and the mother sitting over the fledglings or on the eggs, do not take the mother together with her young. Let the mother go, and take only the young, in order that you may fare well and have a long life.


In Midrash Tanhuma, we read that Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai taught:


The Holy One has revealed the reward for heeding two precepts in the Torah: one of these precepts is the least onerous, and the other is the most onerous. The least onerous concerns letting the mother go when chancing on a bird's nest - with regard to it, the Torah promises, "that you may have a long life." The most onerous concerns honoring one's father and mother - with regard to it, also, the Torah promises, "that your days may be long."


This midrash is teaching us that all the mitzvot are equal, from sending away the mother bird - which is spontaneous and easy, involving no expense or preparation - to honoring one's parents - which may require extraordinary effort and significant financial and emotional investment.


It also calls attention to two texts, and when you compare them, there's a fascinating discrepancy. In the Ten Commandments, the Torah says, "Honor your father and your mother in order that your days - yamekha - may be prolonged." However, in this week's portion of Ki Tetze, the text says, "let the mother bird go . . . in order that you may fare well and have a long life [literally, prolonged days] - yamim."


While the plain meaning of the second text is that by fulfilling this mitzvah you will prolong your life, that's not what the words actually say. It says, "so that you will prolong (all) life." Perhaps the commandment to send away the mother bird is not about preserving the life of the person who finds the nest, but about preventing the destruction of species, great and small.


Ramban (Nachmanides), the 13th century Spanish commentator, hints at this. He writes, "The Torah will not permit a destructive act that would uproot a species even though it does permit the ritual slaughter of members of that species." In other words, if people routinely took mother birds along with their nests, in time there would be no more nests and no more birds.


If this concerned Ramban in the 13th century, how much more should we be concerned today, when we know of thousands of extinct or endangered species.




Why should we worry about the possible extinction of plant and animal species when so many human beings around the world are in desperate need?


Some would argue that it's a matter of enlightened self-interest - perhaps we'll destroy a plant that might be used to cure cancer or an animal whose DNA might one day protect us against Alzheimer's disease. But the Torah teaches us that there is more to life than self-interest. At the very beginning of the Genesis, we read:


"And God said, let us make the human being in our image, after our likeness. They shall rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the cattle, the whole earth, and all the creeping things that creep on earth."


After God does so, the Torah says, "The Lord God took the human being and placed them in the garden of Eden, to till it and tend it."


As the Psalmist proclaims, "The world and everything in it belongs to God." We human beings didn't create it - and we have no right to destroy what we did not make.


God gave human beings the specific task of tending, guarding, and preserving the world. So we can take the nest, but chase the mother bird away to ensure that the world will always be full of birds. When the Torah exhorts us "u'v'harta b'hayyim," choose life, there are no limits placed on the forms of life we celebrate.


You can read more about Animals and Judaism in this article.


See below my photo essay of some of the remarkable creatures I encountered - and click here to see more of them.

Elephant Siblings - Thailand

Elephant, Thailand

Tiger, Thailand

Ibex, En Gedi, Israel

Hyrax, En Gedi

Warthog, Indonesia

Monkey on Borneo, Indonesia

Recommended Reading



Today's Israeli Front Pages

Yediot Achronot

Ha'aretz (English)

Jerusalem Post

See this provocative piece from Ha'aretz. I don't necessarily agree - i would think this precisely when Israel could use a significant influx or rational people who believe in democracy - but it is important for us to hear the desperation in the voices of Israelis right now. And we need to get beyond our old, stereotypical views of the relationship between the diaspora and Israel. We are no longer on the sidelines, looking on. We are right at the center of the action.



Temple Beth El
350 Roxbury Road
Stamford, Connecticut 06902
203-322-6901 | www.tbe.org
  
A Conservative, Inclusive, Spiritual Community