Sunday, January 23, 2022

The God Questions


1) How do we know there really is a God?

 

Think of all the things that are just too brilliant, too perfect, for any person or random process to have created, and the only solution that makes sense is that there is a God.  I’m not just talking about sunsets and flowers.  That’s easy.  When we see the wonders of nature, including all the “bad” things, like earthquakes and hurricanes, we naturally come closer to God.  But what of the less obvious things?  Think of Shabbat, and how perfect it is, how it helps us all to survive in a very complex world by giving all of creation a day off.  What human being could have devised something so brilliant?  Or Matzah – the perfect symbol for a holiday that teaches us about the hardships of slavery (ever try to get the stuff out of your teeth or carpet?) and forces us to show the world how proud we are to be Jewish (ever try explaining the stuff to non Jewish friends, most of whom love to taste it?).  Who else but God could have created Matzah?  The best way to imagine a universe with God is to try to imagine a universe without God.

 

2) Where does God come from?

 

Although God began before the universe, God is not complete yet.  As we build a better world, in a sense we are also building God.  Some Kabbalistic Jews believe that God was sort of a cosmic Humpty Dumpty, who intentionally shattered part of Godself and retreated while we began to pick up and reassemble the pieces of holiness around and within us.  So part of where God comes from is around us, part is within us and part is the glue that holds it all together.  And as each generation reattaches its little piece of Humpty, we are adding our piece.  With each hug, each kind deed and act of tzedakkah, we are making God whole.  What will make God whole?  When the world is whole and there is peace everywhere.

 

3) If there is one God, why are there so many religions?

 

There are certainly lots of religions.  In fact, to an extent there are as many different religions as there are people in the world.  And to make it more complicated, there are as many religions as there have been people who ever lived or ever will live.  That’s because each of us experiences God a little bit differently. Although we all worship the same God, and there are many similarities between religions, we are different because of our different backgrounds.  While each person experiences God a little differently, it helps when groups of people “speak the same language” and share together the wisdom of prior generations.  Our beautiful religion enables us to learn from many great sages of the past three thousand years.  It is very important for everyone to be absolutely comfortable within his or her own religion, allowing it to be a solid “home base” from which to search for God and live a good life.


  

4) Does God know what I am thinking or what I will do?

 

When we are inspired to think a new thought, or when we are moved to help someone in need, it is God who inspires us.  God is the spark that sets off the thought, but we are free to think in our own way and act as we wish.  God doesn’t guide our every act, but in the big picture, I do feel that God sets a direction for each of us.  We were created with enough of this “God DNA” within us to give us the potential to choose to do good.  Usually it is only after the fact that we reflect on something we’ve done or an idea we’ve had and we think, “God must have wanted it this way.”

 

5) Can praying make someone better (well)?

 

Praying brings God into our thoughts and actions.  It’s like rubbing two sticks together to create a fire.  Sometimes it works, especially if others are there doing the same thing and helping you out.  At other times the sticks are too wet or the time is just not right.  But even then, by rubbing the sticks together, it keeps us in practice and helps to dry out the kindling so that perhaps the next time it will “take.”  Once we ignite that spark, and bring God more into our lives, there is a sense of healing within us that can help us get better when we are ill; and it can help others to set off the same spark within them.  Prayer can do all that, but not all the time.

 

6) Does God care who wins the World Series or Super Bowl?

 

It was on Simhat Torah of 1986 that I learned the answer to that question.  The night before, my beloved Boston Red Sox had blown the ultimate chance to win a World Series, losing the sixth game to the Mets in heartbreaking fashion.  I cried for half the night, wondering why God could allow this to happen.  Then, the following morning, I caught myself crying again while dancing with the Torah.  At that point I stopped and wondered, what truly do I care about more:  a sports team or the Torah?  Which one had people given their lives for over the centuries?  Which one had taught me how to live a good life?  Which one had instilled people with hope during times much darker than these?  I decided that it was time to stop crying and start rejoicing with the Torah.  But I also understood that sports are important, because my caring so deeply for the Red Sox is what trained me as a youth how to care for things that are even more important.  In that sense, then, God does indeed care about the World Series and Superbowl?

 

 

 

7) Does God understand Hebrew best?

 

God understands all languages equally, including sign language and body language.  Even computer language.  When we communicate in any form, when we make connections, to some degree God is present.  Hebrew helps Jews to experience God best because it connects us to so many things:

a) to the Jewish people, past, present and future, all over the world;

b) to our own grandparents and great grandparents, many of whom prayed these same exact prayers in Hebrew;

c) to the State of Israel, our homeland, and all who live there;

d) to language itself:  Hebrew letters are so old that they trace themselves back to the first forms of communication.  We can see these ancient letters on old coins and in museums.  Hebrew is a language so modern that it can spell Coca Cola, and so ancient that it brings us back to the beginnings of civilization.  It is a very special language indeed, one that brings us closer to God because it helps us to connect to so many others, and to ourselves.

 

8) Is the Bible true?

 

Yes.  But that doesn’t mean that everything happened exactly as it is described there.  I believe in evolution, but that doesn’t make the Torah’s creation story untrue.  It teaches us some important lessons about people and God, about our relationship to the earth and the rest of the universe, about the importance of Shabbat and the relationship between men and women.  And although I believe that the Bible is “true,” I struggle with many passages in it and can’t always agree with what it says – but I’m not alone in that.  The ancient rabbis also disagreed with some things in the torah and reinterpreted them.

 

The Bible is true just as the fact that our being alive is true.  The Bible and life are both remarkable gifts.  The key is not proving that they are “true,” the key is what we do with these gifts to make the world better.

 

9) Does God really make miracles?

 

What is a miracle?  I would define a miracle as something that makes someone say, “Oh my God!”  Therefore, for me, by definition, miracles have something to do with God.  Some miracles are done by God (a spectacular sunset, for instance), but the best miracles require the cooperation of people, things like the creation of a new baby or a new country.  Israel was the answer to the prayers of many generations, but it would never have been established without much human sacrifice.  So think of all the times you are so overcome that you just have to say, “My God!”  Most likely, you are witnessing a miracle.  And by the way, what about those times when we aren’t so amazed?  Maybe, if we thought about it, we would be.

 

10) Why is there so much bad in a world created by a good God?

 

Maybe it has something to do with the Humpty Dumpty theory that God, and holiness, are shattered, and we have to put the pieces together again to make the world totally good.  But I’m not so sure that “good” and “bad” can be so easily defined.  Sometimes it is easy, like with Haman in the Purim story.  But even there, if it weren’t for the evil Haman and his sinister plot, Purim would never have been invented!  And without the evil Pharaoh, not only would we have never had Matzah balls and the Afikoman, we probably wouldn’t have gotten the Torah.  And even if we had gotten the Torah, its central message (about being nice to strangers because we were slaves in Egypt) would have been missing.  Without bad pizza, how could we ever learn to appreciate food pizza?  The same goes for bad people.

 

11) Does God punish people?

 

Usually the punishment is a direct result of the “crime” committed, and in a sense, it comes from God.  If a person “steals” by, say, cheating on a test, s/he might be caught and punished by the teacher.  S/he will also not learn the material and lose out on important lessons.  But the biggest punishment of all is that s/he’ll feel worse about him or herself and be less likely to trust others.  When a person breaks the law, it’s because s/he feels he can’t succeed within the law.  That’s sad.  What’s even sadder is that with every such crime, he begins to trust others less and less, figuring that if he does it, others must be doing it too.  If you add up the numerical value of the Hebrew letters spelling out God’s name, it equals the words “Ehad” (One) + “Ahava” (Love).  When we feel less attached to others, less “one” with them, when there is less trust and love between people, then God is less present between them.

 

12) Where do people go when they die?

 

When you shout into an echoing canyon, and your voice comes back at you, at first loud and clear, and then less so, what happens to it in the end?  Does it continue to bounce back and forth forever, just a little softer each time?  In some ways, our lives are like that.  Except that once we’ve shouted into the canyon, by pouring all our life’s deeds, our love and our tears, into that one cry, the echo doesn’t necessarily get softer and softer with the passing of time.  Sometimes the echo gets louder over the years.  Look at Moses’ echo!  Sometimes a person’s life, the accumulation of his deeds, appears to be forgotten for eternity, but then a ripple effect is felt, in some form, generations later.  My father dies twenty years ago, when I was a young man, and recently I discovered his name on the Internet!  A person I never met was paying tribute to my Dad on that person’s website!  It was like my father had come back to life.  The things we do in our lives, the things we say, and the ways we show we care:  these things live on, in some form, forever.


Thursday, January 20, 2022

In This Moment, January 20, 2022: Who Betrayed Anne Frank? Is Attending Services an Act of Courage?

 

This week's Shabbat-O-Gram is being sponsored by
Remi and Julie Rosenberg
in honor of Sylvie becoming Bat Mitzvah


In This Moment
Krav Maga Drills From a Chair
Krav Maga Drills From a Chair


An Act of Courage

In the wake of last weekend's attack in Colleyville, Deborah Lipstadt wrote in the New York Times that for Jews, going to services has become an act of courage. A Washington Post column echoed those sentiments. I agree, depending on how you define "courage." Oxford defines courage as "the ability to do something that frightens one." We shouldn't be frightened to attend services, I believe. As Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker put it, "We can't live in fear every step of the way." The odds of any particular synagogue being targeted for an armed attack are still very small.

But Oxford's other definition of courage fits perfectly: "strength in the face of pain or grief." It should be life-affirming to associate with a synagogue community, rather than a source of fear. That connection should strengthen our resolve, especially in the face of life's greatest challenges. A visit to a synagogue (real or virtual), especially in the act of communal prayer, should not feel like a routine visit to a bar or supermarket, or even to a JCC; but rather it should be an acknowledgement that being a Jew is a fragile and precious gift, and an affirmation that this gift imbues our lives with purpose.

Even the first Oxford definition of courage is illuminating here: "The ability to do something that frightens ONE." For Jews, there is never just one. When we have a minyan, when we stand with community, there always are at least ten. That's why, even for those who have trouble accessing prayer, the connection with community - with ten - can be deeply meaningful.

At times like these, with Covid again spiking (hopefully peaking), we are all feeling life's fragility. The Colleyville captives touted their security training for saving their lives, particularly regarding the use of chairs. We've done those sessions too, and we plan to do another one soon. Meanwhile, see above a quick Krav Maga training film on the use of chairs for self protection. Leave it to Israel to come up with ways for people to fight back against hate.

We are deeply relieved and grateful for the Colleyville escape, and it's fitting to recite the traditional prayer thanking God for releasing captives (see below, third blessing down). Still, despite our gratitude, we know that, save for quick thinking, some timely training and a handy chair, we would all be grieving this week.
Shabbat Shalom!

Mazal tov to Sylvie Rosenberg, who becomes Bat Mitzvah this Shabbat morning. Because strict Covid protocols will limit the in-person seating, I encourage people to join us on Zoom. On Friday evening at 7, exclusively on Zoom, TBE congregant and world renowned author Sarah Darer Littman, whose book, "Some Kind of Hate," will be published this fall, will weave her work into the topic of the moment: “After Colleyville: Weaving our Jewish Reality into Fiction?”

Also, join us this evening (Thursday) at 7 for the first session of our Interfaith Council's Midwinter Series on the book of Jonah (see flyer at bottom, and click here to join the session). We are hosting this one, and given the importance of fostering interfaith relations at a time like this, the more TBE'ers on the Zoom screen to welcome our neighbors, the better! (See this article on how the interfaith community came together in Colleyville).

And in the spirit of interfaith dialogue, this week's portion of Yitro is case in point. It's one of three portions named for someone who was not a member of the Tribe. Yitro features the Ten Commandments.  Click to see a comparative look at how the Ten Commandments are interpreted by major world religions. And click here to see a packet on the tenth commandment, the impossible one, the only one that prohibits an emotion, the one about coveting.
Leaving aside the British spelling of
Anne Frank's Betrayal

Anne Frank's hideout was revealed by a fellow Jew, according to a new book, discussed on 60 Minutes last week. That may be true - or not - but it should not be a surprise. In fact, though, she was betrayed not by any particular person, Jew or non-Jew, but by the entire society. And all Jews, including the supposed traitor, were similarly betrayed.

Here's who betrayed Anne Frank:



  • Those who ignored the rise of anti-Semitism throughout Europe and America during that time - failing to understand that even the smallest stereotype can lead to much bigger things, as we saw this week in Colleyville:

Akram wanted the release of Aafia Siddiqui, a Pakistani woman serving an 86-year sentence in federal prison in Fort Worth for trying to kill American soldiers in Afghanistan. And he apparently thought the Jewish worshipers assembled for the Sabbath could make that happen — drawing upon centuries-old antisemitic tropes and conspiracies that Jews secretly control the moves of politicians and manipulate world events to their advantage...“This was somebody who literally thought that Jews control the world,” Cytron-Walker said. “He thought he could come into a synagogue, and we could get on the phone with the ‘Chief Rabbi of America’ and he would get what he needed.”

It's unusual to reopen a cold case after 75 years. But even if it turns out that this revelation is true, Anne Frank's murder is not somehow cheapened or the murderers' guilt lessened if she was turned in by a Jew. It only highlights the impossible moral choices so many victims had to make in order to increase the chance of saving their own families.

What's most important here, perhaps, is how potent a symbol Anne Frank continues to be. That was mentioned in the 60 Minutes broadcast:
But is it really who we are? Or who we wish to be? Are we worthy of comparison to Anne Frank, when so many let her down?

Who else betrayed Anne Frank?

The Dutch government, the police, the neighbors, the conductors on the trains, President Roosevelt....

It took a village to raise her, and it took a global village to kill her.

But still she represents who we wish to be, the best of humanity's potential. Because she was killed as a still-innocent teen, she was never muddied and creviced by life's grinding pressures. So we'll never know if she would have remained true to that childlike innocence.

But we do know this. By ignoring the signals bulleted at the top, as they are reappearing today, we are in the midst of betraying dear Anne all over again.
It's Hard Out There for a Rabbi

How tough is it to be a rabbi these days? According to the Forward, the heroic rabbi at the center of last weekend's drama has been at the center of another, all-too-typical drama within his congregation.

The Texas rabbi celebrated around the world as a hero for freeing three congregants and himself from a gunman in an 11-hour synagogue siege is set to leave the community in June, the Forward has learned.
 
Backstory: Rabbi Charlie Cytron-Walker resigned in November amid debate about whether his contract would be renewed. Rabbi Ben Sternman of Adat Chaverim in Plano, Texas, part of a foursome of area Reform rabbis including Cytron-Walker that meets weekly, said “he showed up for lunch one week and he was looking very upset.” He is on the market for a new pulpit and the synagogue was in the midst of searching for an interim rabbi when Saturday’s hostage situation occurred. 

This is an awkward time for a transition, but I noticed signs of a search process on the synagogue's website and wondered whether someone who seems so exemplary (and, according to congregants that have been quoted, so beloved and "quite simply a mensch,") could be looking for a new position now. And indeed he is. I'm sure he will be fine, especially now, but it just points out the embarrassing strangeness of American Jewish life. The article goes on to say that synagogue leaders were upset that he had been critical of Israel and that he would not allow people to bring their guns to services. You can read the rabbi's response to those accusations here.

The plot thickens, with the Forward also revealing that: Beth Israel’s leadership moved to end his tenure, shocking many congregants who adore him. “There was an enormous outcry when the email came in,” one member, Stephen Yarus, said in an interview. The congregation had, several years ago, overwhelmingly voted to override another board move to oust Cytron-Walker, and Devorah Titunik, another member, said the rabbi told her he wanted to avoid another such vote for fear “it might split the congregation.” 

Gotta love our people! I know these things happen to all faith communities But one wonders if a good man was run out of town unnecessarily because of a combination of a hyper-critical and unforgiving "gotcha" culture ("Rabbi, why were there only four people there last Shabbat?" ) and a Covid fatigue that has simply driven people crazy-angry.

It reminds me of the old joke of how Moses, called "Our Rabbi" (Rabaynu) by the rabbis, would certainly have not been hired by any synagogue. His rap sheet (including a murder), a history of anger issues and his speech impediment alone would have sealed the deal. Oh yes, and his age - 80 at the time of the Exodus. Thank you, Mr. Rabaynu...Neeext!

Whatever the underlying causes of this Lone Star Soap Opera - and outsiders can never know the whole story - it adds a sad coda to an already heartbreaking saga.


TBE Scales Kilimanjaro!

We celebrate the feat of the feet of two TBE members this month, Cheryl Wolff and Nicole Zussman, who scaled a peak even higher than Mount Sinai! Mazal tov to them!
I always like to end on a "high" note!

And to an another note of inspiration, among the stories revolving around the life of the great Sidney Poitier after his passing last week was one involving an elderly Jewish man who taught him english - an act of selfless courage that changed the course of one man's life, and thereby changed us all. One act of kindness can save the world.

See it below.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman

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

Tuesday, January 18, 2022

Praying for the Jews of Colleyville

 


In This Moment


Shavua Tov

Our prayers go out out to the congregants of Congregation Beth Israel of Colleyville Texas, as the hostage situation there continues to unfold. Some media outlets are justifiably reticent to give details right now. One outlet you can check for information is JTA. Because of the pandemic, turnout was (thankfully) very low at their morning Shabbat service, as most attendees were participating though Zoom. The streaming broadcast was helpful in providing valuable, real-time information to authorities.

Those wishing to send warm wishes or to make donations to the synagogue can access their website or Facebook page.

Whatever transpires, it can't go unnoticed that once again the Jewish community is being singled out for an act of violence. We expect anti-Semitic acts such as these to be expressly condemned by government officials and others in authority.

But right now, the focus must be on those innocent congregants and rabbi who are in immediate danger. The congregation is a Reform synagogue, and Rabbi Rick Jacobs, leader of the URJ, tweeted this out earlier:

In the spirit of Rabbi Jacobs' request, certain psalms are often recited at times like this, in particular a series of ten psalms compiled by Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav, called the "ha-Tikkun ha-Klali, "the General Remedy."

According to the Talmud (Pesaḥim 117a) there are ten kinds of songs in the Book of Psalms: Ashrei, Beracha, Maskil, Nitzuach, Shir, Niggun, Mizmor, Tefilla, Hoda'ah, and Halleluyah. In the early 19th century, Rebbe Nachman, a great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov, taught that the recitation of ten psalms, each representing one of these categories, could act as a Tikkun (remedy). Their recitation would help lead to an awareness of the divine presence that permeates and enlivens this world.

You can find the ten psalms, and a complete explanation of them, at this site. Introduce yourself to them and then choose one to recite.

On a weekend where we celebrate the legacy of Martin Luther King, a great leader of peaceful coexistence, we can only hope that this situation is resolved peacefully and without delay.

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

In This Moment, January 6, 2022: Saying God, Playing God;The Greatest Zionist Environmentalist You've Never Heard of; The Hula Valley's Saddest Photo

 


In This Moment


Shabbat Shalom!

On this anniversary of the Jan. 6 Insurrection, some links to thoughts I've shared on the topic over the past year, in particular last January, in the wake of the attack:


Join us for services on Friday night and Shabbat morning, all on Zoom. The portion is Bo. Last Friday as we rang in the New Year, I spoke about "The Plague of Excess." Watch the video here. And last Tuesday our Jewish Canon class had a stimulating conversation about whether Jews are becoming more motivated by inner meaning or outward commitment (self help vs peoplehood), as well as the changing demographics of intermarriage. See the video here.

Saying God, Playing God

A number of you received an annoying phishing email early this week, ostensibly (though not really) from me. As a public service, here is how to recognize and avoid falling victim to one of these scams. A telltale sign is that the return address on that email was unlike any email I've ever written to you. Another is that it didn't sound like something I would say. Here it is:
Leaving aside the British spelling of "favour" the stilted language and faulty grammar, one thing stood out. As a congregant put it at minyan the next day, the reason it didn't sound like me was the way it talked about God.

Hmm...

I think what she meant was that the flowery use of God sounded more formal, more affected and perhaps more Christian than you typically hear in Jewish circles.

But it raises important questions. Should we be talking about God more - or less? Does talking about God excessively actually cheapen what is supposed to be the Ultimate Mystery. If we talk of God as an outside entity, an "it," detached from our experience, isn't that a form of taking God's name in vain?

I can recall as a teen being uncomfortable watching ads where Cowboys' coach Tom Landry would speak of his "personal relationship with God." It's not just a Christian thing. Many traditional Jews also talk openly of their special bond with "the KBH" (Kadosh Baruch Hu. - The Holy One of Blessing) like He's a best bud (and always, for those who use that expression, God is a "He"); or "Hashem," as if this term, designed as a euphemism to shield us from getting too close to God's name, has itself become a nickname for an intimate, invisible friend.

I've long admitted to being an anti-Hashemite.

I'm not comfortable being overly comfortable with God. The term "Israel," after all, means to struggle with God. Struggle is my theological comfort zone. I'm most certain about my uncertainty.

Is God my co-pilot or has God turned over the entire operation of the plane to us? I opt for the latter, especially after the Holocaust. And I'm not alone in thinking this.

I tend to avoid excessive "God talk," in part because my concept of God would render idolatrous any attempt to pigeonhole God into being a co-pilot, a football coach's personal trainer or a rebbe's best buddy.

Meanwhile, it is absolutely appropriate to speak of the spiritual practices of American Jews without focusing on God. As this article puts it, if you’re asking American Jews if they’re religious, you don’t understand American Jews. In her book, Beyond the Synagogue Jewish Nostalgia as Religious Practice, Rachel Gross argues that American Jews continue to find deep meaning in rituals, history, their families and communities. She states that nostalgic activities such as visiting the Museum at Eldridge Street or eating traditional Jewish foods should be understood as American Jewish religious practices. In making the case that these practices are not just cultural, but are actually religious, Gross asserts that many prominent sociologists and historians have mistakenly concluded that American Judaism is in decline, and she contends that they are looking in the wrong places for Jewish religious activity.


Sounds good to me, as long as there is plenty of rugelach on the men's side of the mechitzah at Zabars!
I may not talk about God all the time, but I play one on TV - i mean at TBE. This was a particularly difficult week in the pandemic, with the exponential spread of the Omicron variant. Within our congregation, it has been sweeping through entire families. I've spoken to lots of congregants this week and very few have been untouched by this wildfire, in one way or another. It is out of control, and while the symptoms are usually mild, the hospitals are filling up. People are worried. Every cough has become a trigger of existential dread.

So it was a perfect week for me to be blessed with about 20 home testing kits, as part of the state's effort to get the tests to the right people, using religious leaders as their eyes and ears on the ground. I did not hesitate to accept the offer - even before figuring out how best to distribute the kits. My goal was to get them out quickly, because they were doing no good in my car, and to aim to get them into the hands of those most vulnerable. That could mean those who were from vulnerable demographics, those experiencing symptoms - or both. With the disease now so extraordinary contagious, I wanted to be ahead of the curve, so those with immunity or mobility issues were a high priority, even if they were not symptomatic.

Because I had a limited supply, I was forced to make some uncomfortable decisions and turn some people away. It was a humbling week for me; while these tests do not in themselves determine "who shall live and who shall die," the results could change the course of people's lives - especially since each of these people could potentially infect other people (with Omicron, each infected person infects on average at least a half dozen others). I also heard a lot about people's non-Covid related sadness, the loneliness, helplessness and frustration that we are all feeling right now.

I was relieved to give away the last of the kits and hope they are all put to good use. I hope that soon the kits will be easily available to all of us - and that none of us will need them. I've had enough of playing God for one week.

But I'm always up for a conversation about God. The poem below is a good place to begin. Is accessing God a struggle, as I claim.... or is it actually the easiest thing imaginable, as this poem claims? Or both?


The Worst Thing We Ever Did
 
The worst thing we ever did was put God in the sky, out of reach.
Pulling the Divinity from the leaf,
Sifting out the Holy from our bones,
Insisting God isn’t bursting dazzlement through everything we’ve made
A hard commitment to see as ordinary
Stripping the sacred from everywhere to put in a cloud made elsewhere
Prying closeness from your heart.
The worst thing we ever did was take the dance and the song out of prayer.
Made it sit up straight and cross its legs,
Removing of it rejoicing,
Wiped clean its hip sway, its questions, its ecstatic yowl, its tears.
The worst thing we ever did is pretend God isn’t the easiest thing in this Universe.
Available to every soul in every breath.
 
Chelan Harkin


The Greatest Zionist Environmentalist You've Never Heard of Died 100 Years Ago
Tu B'Shevat is on January 17. Since I'll be out of the office and there will be no Shabbat-O-Gram next week (if I try to send one out, shoot me), I want to pay tribute this week to a Zionist pioneer who died 100 years ago, who brought together two of the most important aspects of this holiday: a burning love for the land of Israel and a deep concern for our environment.

A.D Gordon was that man.

I'll explain why with a story from today's news.

See below one of the saddest photos I've seen, taken from the front page of today's Ha'aretz. It shows a crane crashing to its death in Hula Lake in northern Israel. You can see today's story below it, along with a headline from last week about the Avian Flu that has devastated Israel.

It’s being called one of the worst blows to wildlife in Israel’s history. You might have read about it in the New York Times. There have been widespread infections on chicken and turkey farms and there is now a severe egg shortage - a shortfall of 15 million eggs. What’s more, 5,000 migratory cranes have died from it – and the north of Israel is one of the most important migration routes in the world. It's a catastrophe that mirrors our own pandemic, and there are no vaccines.

And we humans are responsible for this. It was avoidable. When the Hula Valley was drained in the early years of the state, migratory patterns were disrupted. The colossal error was reversed a number of years later, the lake was refilled with water, and the birds returned. But they began to feed on neighboring farms, so farmers and tourists conspired to feed the birds at lakeside to keep them away from the farms.  Several tons a day of peanuts and corn were given to the birds. The cranes in turn generated nearly 40 million dollars in tourism every year. A nice arrangement. 

And it continued, despite environmentalists’ warnings that this would disrupt the precious balance of the ecosystem. What crane would want to schlep back down to Africa in the winter when they were literally working for peanuts up here? They were getting all the food they could possibly want. So, many stayed put. And the park got crowded. Much like those overcrowded chicken farms in Israel and many other places. That’s what caused this plague. Pure excess. Pure greed. Birds were not meant to live sedentary lives. Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly. And they gotta fly south.
 
We have so messed up our relationship with nature. 

A.D. Gordon believed that a return to the soil would transform the Jewish people and allow its rejuvenation. He was the quintessential labor zionist of the first pioneer generation, the group that drained the swamps and founded the first kibbutz (Degania) alongside Lake Kinneret, just south of the Hula Valley. He sought to promote physical labor and agriculture as a means of uplifting Jews spiritually. It was the experience of working the land, he believed, that linked the individual to the hidden aspects of nature and being, which, in turn were the source of vision, poetry, and the spiritual life. He also believed that working the land was a sacred task, not only for the individual but for the entire Jewish people. Agriculture would unite the people with the land and justify its continued existence there. In his words: "The Land of Israel is acquired through labor, not through fire and not through blood." 

I am in awe of the eagle soaring at Dinali, depicted in the photo at the top of this email. But I am grieving for that crane as if it is family. I don't live in Israel, but I am a Jew, and I love that land (especially that incredibly beautiful valley) and the photo of that crane brings tears to my eyes. We have let that crane down - and 5,000 of his closest friends, who trusted that we would care for them.

People have either loved or hated the current film, "Don't Look Up," which warns obliquely of a coming climate apocalypse. But for me, among the most powerful visuals of the film are the images of unassuming animals sprinkled in randomly, creatures with no idea that they are about to meet their maker as a comet speeds toward earth. In the end (spoiler alert) not all the animals are so innocent and cuddly. But most are, and while the film might overdo it with this message, all they needed to do a live photoshoot of what is really happening at Lake Hula.

A.D. Gordon was right: If we desire life, we need to renew our relationship with nature.

Have a Shabbat Shalom, and, in advance, a Happy Tu B'Shevat!

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman


Below: a video and photos of the Hula Valley (some taken by me), in better times.
Wysinfo: Migratory Birds of Hula Valley HD
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