Saturday, June 5, 2021

TBE Bar/Bat Mitzvah Commentary: Harrison Tronick on Shelach Lecha

Shabbat Shalom! 


It is so nice to be live with some of my friends and family here in the synagogue

and it is amazing to “see” so many of you on Zoom.  I wish we could all be together. 

But regardless of how you are joining - thank you for being part of my special day.

While it is feeling like the end of this Covid nightmare is close…

many of you know that I have just gotten over the virus myself. 

This past year and a half has been really hard - being separated and even more so when in quarantine. 

This year - what has helped me is the idea that I am actually never alone. 

Obviously I have my family and lots of friends, but there’s another group

that has really made the difference:  my baseball teammates.

Last summer when camp was cancelled – I won’t lie – I was super disappointed. 

But because baseball is outdoors and mostly socially distanced,

we were lucky enough to play a full schedule.  We even won the districts –

a huge accomplishment!  As much as I missed my camp friends,

my teammates really helped make the summer one I will always remember. 


My portion, Shelach, focuses of the importance of being part of a team.


It starts with the famous story of the spies.  Moses sent out twelve spies to scout out the land,

to see how hard it would be to conquer. Ten of the spies came back with a very negative report

(which wasn’t true).  Only two said the correct report - that they would be able to conquer the land.

As a result, they didn’t move forward and the whole nation was forced to wander in the wilderness

for forty years before they could enter.  In this time, an entire generation died out.

The reason the spies didn’t succeed is that they did not have faith in themselves or one another

and they feared the opponents too much. 

In chapter 13, verse 33, they demonstrate their lack of confidence by saying

that they felt that the people of the land were giants

and “We looked like grasshoppers to ourselves and so we must have looked to them.” 

(I admit I sometimes feel that way with some teams I have faced)!


Teamwork is the key to self-confidence.  It feeds on itself. 

My baseball teammates and I feed one another’s achievements and lift each other up when we are down.

Interestingly, the ten spies who had no confidence are called in the portion an ay-da

which in Hebrew means a team.  In fact, because of this,

we get the practice of needing exactly ten to have a prayer service, a minyan. 


My portion concludes with the description of the tzitzit,

the fringes of the tallit that we wear when we pray.  The one I’m wearing today is very special. 

My uncle Peter helped me to pick it out from Israel. 

Part of what makes this tallit special is that it contains the blue thread that is mentioned in my reading. 

The tzitzit remind us of the 613 commandments – or mitzvot - in the Torah. 

When Jews over bar mitzvah age all wear them at services,

it feels like we are all wearing the same uniform and are on the same team. 

And since many of these tallises have pinstripes, all the better - since all the best teams wear pinstripes! 

RIGHT, RABBI?

For my mitzvah project, I collected gently used sports equipment to donate to the

Boys and Girls Club in Stamford.  My hope is that by having the right equipment,

children that are less fortunate than myself can have the chance to join and be part of a team. 

Thank you to everyone that donated! 

I did this project to honor two people who have had a big impact on my life and have really inspired me.  

One is someone that many of you in the congregation know very well. 

My friend Emmet had lost his fight with Aplastic Anemia at the young age of 10. 

He treasured his experience with his own baseball team.  

Additionally, a current teammate is dealing with his own health issues –

and I hope by being part of our team, the Bombers, he can feel all the support his team feels for him. 

Both of these friends would have been the perfect spies for Moses to have sent out to Canaan.


Click on photos to enlarge.






















Thursday, June 3, 2021

In This Moment, June 3: Israel's Shehechiyanu Moment

 


In This Moment
The Shabbat-O-Gram is sponsored
by Jane Levine and Adam Tronick in honor of their son, Harrison,
becoming a Bar Mitzvah on Shabbat. Mazal tov!

Celebrating Pride Month

Shabbat Shalom!
As we await Elon Green's appearance at Pride Shabbat next week to talk about his new and highly acclaimed book, "Last Call: A True Story of Love, Lust, and Murder in Queer New York," tide yourselves over with this heartfelt essay by another young adult member of our TBE extended family, Jackie Schechter, "The year that I’ll remember, the year my grandfather won’t," published by the Forward. Here's an excerpt:

Grandpa used to call on us between the verses of “Dayenu,” the song that recounts the steps God took to free the Jews from slavery and bring them to Israel. Each step alone would have been enough, the song notes, but God did more. At our family’s seder, the person Grandpa named would shout “dayenu!” and then we’d all continue singing.

This year, my aunt does the calling from her dining room table in Chicago. We have Zoom boxes in four states and two countries. That we can all be here together — it would have been enough. That Grandma and Grandpa escaped Europe, eluded the virus — enough.

But there’s more: Grandpa’s singing. He’s clasped his hands together, his face deep in concentration. He knows that word, dayenu. There’s something within him that remembers, something more fundamental than faces or time or even his own name. His voice is soft but fills the room; we’re all listening for it.

At the end he looks around. “Nice job, folks,” he says.

With or without COVID, we still would’ve gotten here, and we know, ultimately, where it’s going. But for now, these smiles, his singing — it’s enough. He’s come back to us, a turn of events astounding as a vaccine.

Thank you, Jackie, for this most moving piece!

Meanwhile, some other things to peruse:


  • Take a look at this startup called Empathy App, which helps people deal with all the logistical issues surrounding the death of a loved one and subsequent mourning period, from deciding on a casket to ordering bagels for the shiva. Empathy's owners say, "We believe that loss should be less of a burden for every family. It should be less confusing, inefficient, expensive, and emotionally draining. That’s why we built Empathy – to meet families where they are, put the control back in their hands, and give them practical tools to navigate the hardest time in their lives."

  • Civil Marriage Unlikely, Kotel Deal for Sure: What New Israeli Gov’t Means for Religious Status Quo (Ha'aretz). If the new rotation government headed by Yair Lapid and Naftali Bennett ultimately gets sworn in (still a big if), it would be the first time since 2015 that the ultra-Orthodox parties were not part of the ruling coalition. It would be the first time Israel has a prime minister who wears a yarmulke (though in the tradition of a certain type of Orthodox Jew, Bennet’s is very small). It would be the first time a Reform rabbi – Labor MK Gilad Kariv – is a member of the governing coalition (not to mention the Knesset). And it would be the first time an Islamist party (or any Arab party, for that matter) was part of the governing coalition.







  • 'King Bibi' wasn't the only big myth shattered in Israel this week - Ha'aretz - AIPAC, of course, can never be seen as being out of step with the prime minister of Israel, but they’re already finding it difficult to hide their relief at what they hope is Netanyahu’s imminent departure. (No one else has so hastily - and prematurely - congratulated the prospective new government. Anshel Pfeffer explains why).
Israel's Shehechianu Moment

This has been a dramatic week for Israeli politics. While the new government has yet to become official, what we see in this photo is a true revolution in Israeli politics - a right winger, Naftali Bennet, and a moderate, Yair Lapid, welcoming, for the first time, the leader of an Arab party, Mansour Abbas, into the new government. Think what you may about these men and what their parties represent, but there's a lot of courage on display in that photo. There are going to be lots of bumps in the road, but Yair Lapid has steered this process wisely, willingly ceding the limelight and deferring his lifelong dream to be Prime Minister in order to get this thing done. And Naftali Bennet is risking everything by joining this government of change, a true rainbow coalition of secular, religious, right and left, Arab and Jew, Orthodox (Bennet will the first Orthodox Prime Minister) and secular.

As Rabbi Jill Jacobs wrote this week:

In this week’s Torah portion, Moses sends scouts to explore the land of Israel. Ten of these scouts return with a terrifying report that frightens the people from moving forward. But two, Caleb and Joshua, choose hope over fear. The path will be difficult, they tell the people, but not impossible. We, too, choose hope over despair.'

And so did the three in that photo, taking a leap - a hope-filled leap - into the unknown. if an Islamic-Arab party in the Israeli government is possible (albeit one that espouses problematic views with regards to LGBTQ rights), then anything is possible. It is a hopeful moment, after weeks of despair. I'm a hopeless optimist, but I see this as an opportunity to restore the frayed ties between many American Jews, particularly younger ones, and Israel.

The election of Isaac "Buji" Herzog to the presidency, which also happened yesterday, is especially gratifying to those who have followed him over the years - whether in his role as Jewish Agency head (which prompted his visit to Stamford a year and a half ago) Labor party leader, or a teen at the Ramaz School in New York. Herzog is true Israeli royalty - his father, Chaim Herzog, was president of Israel and his grandfather was the first chief rabbi - and his uncle, Abba Eban was perhaps Israel's most recognized diplomat (and former Hoffman lecturer at TBE).

Eban was one of the most eloquent of Israel's advocates on the international stage, especially during the Six Day War. But it was Chaim Herzog, who as UN ambassador, delivered one of the most memorable addresses, in 1975 after the infamous "Zionism is racism" vote. You can watch the speech here and read the text.
נאום הרצוג בעצרת הכללית של האו"ם - ארכיון המדינה
Isaac Herzog said, "The world is yearning for strong leadership and moral clarity; someone who knows the difference between good and bad." He has been providing that kind of leadership for years, often in contrast to those around him, who often have chided him for his supposed lack of killer instinct. He also understands the mind of the American Jew, and has recently spoken about the "existential threat" to Israel-Diaspora ties. While his father was UN Ambassador, Buji spent some summers attending Camp Ramah in New York and in Massachusetts. His sister Ronit was in my division one summer when I was a counselor at Ramah in Palmer. I can remember how exciting it was when the limo rolled up and his parents came on visitor's day! Herzog worked that summer on the kitchen staff, waiting tables - and now, looking back, I realize there were times when my table was waited on by a future President of Israel! (I should have tipped better). Herzog later wrote about the impact his Ramah experience had on him:
President-elect Herzog is a true mensch, and it's nice to think that his knowledge of American Jewry will help him to bridge the growing gaps between Jews in Israel and around the world, The fact that he received 87 votes in the Knesset in a closed ballot - out of 120 - just shows what kind of bridge builder he can be. That degree of consensus is unheard of in that body. It also shows just how much the Israeli leadership understands that the prime spokesperson for the country - its very symbol - needs to be someone who can project civility and compassion. Buji is the best that Israel has to offer, and he came along just at the right time. He'll be a great president.

Shabbat Shalom!

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

Tuesday, June 1, 2021

TBE Bar/Bat Mitzvah Commentary: Wesley Levine on Shelach Lecha

Good morning.  Happy Memorial Day.


Welcome to my Bar Mitzvah


You might be wondering, what is a Bar Mitzvah?  I have asked myself the same question.  Bar means son but in this case, it also Means responsible and Mitzvah technically means god’s commandments.  So today, by reading from the Torah, I have fulfilled the ritual of accepting responsibility for god’s commandments.  And since I am 13, I am supposedly mature enough to be able to do this.  


So now let’s talk about today’s Parsha Shelach. Moses sent twelve spies to the land of Canaan. Forty days later they return and ten of the spies warn that the land contains giants and warriors more powerful than them.  Only Caleb and Joshua insist that the land can be conquered. God then states that the Jew’s entry into the land shall be delayed forty years, during this time that entire generation will die out in the desert and a new generation will be born. The Parsha concludes with God commanding the Jews to do mitzvot like making challah and wearing tzitzit. 


Now, what does this portion tell me specifically? It tells me that the spies were afraid of change.  Moving into a new land is a big deal.  This tells us a lot about that generation of the Jewish people.  They were still fresh from slavery in Egypt and afraid to establish themselves in a new land.  And they also put no trust in God to guide and help them.


I can relate to this Parsha and how, like the Israelites, establishing myself in a new land as well.  As most of you know, lived in Stamford for most of my life and just moved to Greenwich last year.  This was a big change because I switched schools, towns, houses, places where I played sports, and even daily routines.  All this during a global pandemic.  I feel very lucky that COVID didn’t affect me, my family, or my friends negatively and that I have been safe throughout it.  


The lesson for me is not to be afraid to try something new and trust yourself to be resilient.  My dad is always pushing me to try new things and not give up. Thanks to him I now go to travel basketball, soccer, and play tennis even though I was reluctant to do them at first.  Meanwhile, I pushed him to send me to Central Middle School when I was ready for public school and ready for change.  With the school year almost over, I am really happy I made the change.  I have made new friends and experienced a new school.  


I think we can all benefit from the lessons of the Spies.  We can all be a little more open-minded and open to new ideas, new foods, a new style of clothing, or visiting a place you would never visit. 


For my bar mitzvah project, I am choosing to support the Stamford JCC.  The JCC is an important part of the community.  I have been going there since before I can even remember. I did swim lessons there, went on the playground, did after school, and played basketball. They have shaped the person I am today and I want to ensure everyone can access the JCC for many years to come. I am going to be chairing a basketball fundraiser there and I would love for you to come play and have fun while supporting the JCC.  The money we raise will help fund basketball and other scholarships for those in need.






Thursday, May 27, 2021

In This Moment, May 21 - Tulsa and Kishinev, Are Cicadas Kosher? Memorial Day

In This Moment
The Shabbat Announcements are sponsored
by Hayley and Josh Levine in honor of their son, Wesley,
becoming a Bar Mitzvah on Memorial Day.


ZOOM Recorded Highlights from the past week...

Annual Meeting Shtisel Discussion
TBE Annual Meeting 2021
TBE Discussion of "Shtisel"
Mazal Tov to Our Annual Meeting Prize Winners!
Scenes from Jordan Alexander's Bar Mitzvah. See more photos and read his D'var Torah here.

Shabbat Shalom!

As we reach Memorial Day weekend, we are especially mindful this year of the supreme sacrifices made by those who fought to defend freedom and democracy here and around the world. As I have in prior years on Memorial Day weekend, I share with you the words of Rabbi Roland Gittlesohn  in a speech delivered at the dedication of the 5th marine Cemetery on Iwo Jima, in March 1945. It has been called one of the great battlefield sermons to come out of World War Two. 
 
Here lie men who loved America because their ancestors generations ago helped in her founding, and other men who loved her with equal passion because they themselves or their own fathers escaped from oppression to her blessed shores. Here lie officers and men, Negroes and whites, rich men and poor . . . together. Here are Protestants, Catholics, and Jews together. Here no man prefers another because of his faith or despises him because of his color. Here there are no quotas of how many from each group are admitted or allowed. Among these men, there is no discrimination. No prejudices. No hatred. Theirs is the highest and purest democracy ...
 
Whosoever of us lifts his hand in hate against a brother, or who thinks himself superior to those who happen to be in the minority, makes of this ceremony and the bloody sacrifice it commemorates, an empty, hollow mockery. To this, then, as our solemn duty, sacred duty do we the living now dedicate ourselves: to the right of Protestants, Catholics, and Jews, of white men and Negroes alike, to enjoy the democracy for which all of them have here paid the price ... 

We here solemnly swear that this shall not be in vain. Out of this and from the suffering and sorrow of those who mourn this will come, we promise, the birth of a new freedom for the sons of men everywhere.

Those sacrifices can not be allowed to have been made in vain. But that requires our vigilance. We need to fight hate and discrimination wherever we find it. No blind spots are allowed. That might mean being critical of our own country once in a while, and fighting hard for police reform, voting rights and a bipartisan review of one of the greatest crimes committed against our democracy, on January 6. it might also mean assisting Israel, in the wake of this month's destructive and pointless war, to address both the external threat of the hateful terror group Hamas and the strains of hatred and mistrust that threaten to tear the fabric of Israeli society apart from within. And it now also means addressing head-on the spike (an 80 percent increase is not an "uptick") in anti-Semitism in the US. Memorial Day will bring with it some welcome relief from Covid hibernation for many of us, as more and more are fully vaccinated; but it also is a sobering time for us, as Americans and as Jews. Sobering yes, but precisely NOT the time to go back into hiding. That's why I attended the anti-anti-Semitism rally on Monday. Now is the time to show special pride in being Jewish and to demonstrate it in public. Now is the time to show our love for America and for Israel, despite our concerns, and even because of them.

Here is some suggested reading material, from many vantage points, for your holiday weekend:


In the most striking example of this, on the evening of May 19, a number of men dressed in black and waving Palestinian flags drove up to a restaurant to carry out a premeditated attack on a group of Jewish diners on La Cienaga Boulevard, at the heart of Jewish Los Angeles.These have also included brazen and brutal attacks in broad daylight in a number of major American cities. Aside from the attack in L.A., there were similar ones on the streets of South Florida, synagogues vandalized in Tucson, Arizona, and Skokie, Illinois, and we have seen repeated attacks in New York including a widely seen video of a Jewish man beaten by a gang in broad daylight — in Times Square. In Brooklyn over the weekend three men allegedly drove around Borough Park harassing and assaulting Jewish individuals, including teenagers. They yelled antisemitic slurs as well as “free Palestine,” and kicked a synagogue’s doors.




Your kids’ questions on Israel and Gaza, answered – The Forward - Here's one of the answers provided by Jodi Rudoren of the Forward:

How can I support Palestine without contradicting my beliefs that Israel should exist? I really don’t think we have to choose. We can support Israel’s right to exist and criticize its government’s treatment of Palestinians — just like we believe in the United States but might think the way it treats immigrants or poor people is unfair.

Israel, the world’s only Jewish-majority country, is a subject of special concern to many Jews in the United States. Caring about Israel is “essential” to what being Jewish means to 45% of U.S. Jewish adults, and an additional 37% say it is “important, but not essential,” according to a new Pew Research Center survey that was fielded from Nov. 19, 2019, to June 3, 2020 – well before the latest surge of violence in the region. Just 16% of U.S. Jewish adults say that caring about Israel is “not important” to their Jewish identity.
However, the survey found that Jewish Americans – much like the U.S. public overall – also hold widely differing views on Israel and its political leadership.

The Americanization of the Israeli-Palestinian Debate - The Atlantic - Many Americans are now using their image of home to construct their image of Israel. Indeed, for some on the progressive left, the conflict between Jews and Muslims 6,000 miles east of Washington, D.C., has become jumbled up with American ideas about race.



Cicada Time

Eric Carle, writer and illustrator who gave life to ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ died this week at 91. Carle is the one who introduced me to the word "cicada." And this week, in one of the wonders of nature, the 17-year cycle renewed itself not far from here, as billions of cicadas emerge to sing their love song - loud! For those who are wondering, while some forms of locusts are kosher (and apparently popular in some parts of the Jewish world), cicadas are definitively not kosher. But of course there is a Jewish backstory (isn't there always?) Some compare the cicada’s “singing” to the joyful celebration of their long overdue freedom and liberation of the Israelites upon leaving Egypt. But unlike that chorus (and like the choruses in Orthodox synagogues) the cicada choir is all male.

Click on the photo below to listen to them....
Tulsa and Kishinev
‌


This week marks 100 years since the infamous Tulsa Race Massacre of May 31 - June 1, 1921. As a student of Jewish history, I find it interesting to look at the parallels between this debacle and a similar event in recent Jewish history, the first Kishinev pogrom in 1903, an often overlooked event that, in the eyes of some scholars, transformed Jewish history.

What began as a disorganized romp of rowdy teenagers evolved into something much more destructive. In the end, 49 Jews were killed, an untold number of Jewish women were raped, and 1,500 Jewish homes were damaged. The destruction in Tulsa was comparable. In the wake of the violence, 35 city blocks lay in charred ruins, more than 800 people were treated for injuries and contemporary reports of deaths began at 36. Historians now believe as many as 300 people may have died, brutally butchered by the mob.

The New York Times account of Kishinev states that on Easter Sunday, as people left their churches:

The mob was led by priests, and the general cry, "Kill the Jews", was taken-up all over the city. The Jews were taken wholly unaware and were slaughtered like sheep. The dead number 120 and the injured about 500. The scenes of horror attending this massacre are beyond description. Babes were literally torn to pieces by the frenzied and bloodthirsty mob. The local police made no attempt to check the reign of terror. At sunset the streets were piled with corpses and wounded. Those who could make their escape fled in terror, and the city is now practically deserted of Jews.

The sheer destruction only tells a small part of the story, however. In both cases, for Tulsa and Kishinev, the causes were eerily similar and the long-term psychological and historical impacts were profound.

The Tulsa Massacre resulted from the growing resentment of whites at the relative prosperity achieved by Blacks, especially in the Greenwood section of the city, also known as "Black Wall Street." (See The New York Times' interactive exhibit). But the spark - the pretext - involved two teenagers in an elevator in the Drexel building in downtown Tulsa and morphed into a sexual assault accusation.

According to the Times, accounts vary about what happened between Dick Rowland, 19, a young Black shoe shiner, and Sarah Page, 17, a white elevator operator. The Times continues:

One common theory suggests Mr. Rowland tripped and grabbed onto the arm of Ms. Page while trying to catch his fall. She screamed, and he ran away, according to the commission report. The next day, Mr. Rowland was arrested and jailed in the Tulsa County Courthouse. By that afternoon, The Tulsa Tribune published a front-page news story with the headline “Nab Negro for Attacking Girl in Elevator,” which essentially mobilized a lynch mob that showed up at the courthouse.

The pretext for the Kishinev massacre was similar. When a Ukrainian boy, Mikhail Rybachenko, was found murdered in the town of Dubăsari, about 40 km (25 mi) miles north of Kishinev, and a girl who committed suicide by poisoning herself was declared dead in a Jewish hospital, the Bessarabetz paper insinuated that both children had been murdered by the Jewish community for the purpose of using their blood in the preparation of matzah for Passover.

In both cases, the hated "other" is accused of harming innocent minors, thereby igniting mob violence. Such accusations have found their way into current discourse as well - which is one reason why the incendiary (and false) insinuation that Israel deliberately targeted Palestinian children in Gaza evoked that anti-Semitic trope, and predictably, mob violence followed.

The destruction of Kishinev paled in comparison to the Holocaust that would follow, but it gave Jews a clue of what was to come - and that led many to decide to embark to America and to Palestine. They understood that there was no future for them in Russia.

Bialik's poem chided Jews for their passivity.

And all have eyes that are the eyes of slaves,
Slaves flogged before their masters;
And each one begs, and each one craves:

Those martyred bones that issue from your bags, And sing, with raucous voice, your pauper's ditty! So will you conjure up the pity of the nations, And so their sympathy implore. For you are now as you have been of yore And as you stretched your hand So will you stretch it, And as you have been wretched So are you wretched!

The Tulsa Massacre ripped from the Black community their hard-earned dignity, and with Jim Crow in ascent, it would be many decades before they would have a chance to regain it. For Jews and Blacks, then, these seminal episodes were designed to crush their spirits along with their bones, and for the oppressors, it was "mission accomplished."

But one hundred years later, a different story is being written. Yes, Jews, dispirited, left Russia en masse. But in doing so, millions of refugees and their descendants saved themselves from the genocide that would follow; and those who went to Palestine forged the foundation of the nascent Jewish State. After Kishinev, Theodore Herzl immediately embarked upon his plan to resettle the Jewish people in Uganda. That scheme was thankfully rejected (the falafel is lousy there), but it shows how profound was the impact of this pogrom in convincing Jews that they could no longer rely on God to save them, and that their future was elsewhere. While some stayed in Russia and enlisted in the fight against the Czars, others formed self defense groups in Palestine, which later led to the establishment of the Hagana. So the net result of Kishinev, as interpreted by Bialik, was one Jewish state defended by the most powerful army in the Middle East, and millions of living Jews in America (including me and possibly you) whose familiy would otherwise have been snuffed out a generation later. Even Tevye owes his fictitious life to the shock of Kishinev.

And for Blacks, the story of Tulsa is also still being written, in the growing dignity of this moment, with a Black Vice President, a reasonable chance at police reform, hope for renewed voting rights and true equality. We're not there yet - far from it - and our actions over the coming months will tell the tale.

The Kishinev pogrom was that moment when Jews turned away from "thoughts and prayer" passivity and moved decisively to action. At least some did, enough to make a difference. Those who came to these golden shores found a country that was not quite ready to accept them, but at least they could survive with a modicum of dignity and the possibility of a future for their kids. For the Black community of Tulsa, a brighter future beckons, but first they've got to reclaim their past.

And so, the mass graves of Tulsa are being exhumed, at long last, so there can be an overdue accounting.

Meanwhile, the graves of Kishinev are forgotten, tilting, bowed and burdened like the ancient, exhausted ancestors who lived and died there - while their youth went on to be reborn, as Bialik wrote in another of his famous poems, in distant, wondrous lands.
Shabbat Shalom!

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