Darchei Noam

Creeds and Dogmas

2011-11-22T11:27:00.000-08:00

Here is another "Ask the Rabbi" questions from Leslie:

I am reading the "JPS Guide to Jewish Traditions"--and there was a passage that stated "Jews have no creed." I am wanting to know just what exactly that means and also, how it applies to the Reform Movement and how is it different from other streams of Judaism.

To begin answering this question, we need to define "creed". A creed is a statement of beliefs. A similar term is "dogma" which is an established, authoritative belief held by a group such as a religion. Many different Christian denominations state the Apostles' Creed during their worship. They stand up and say what they as Christians believe. Here is the Catholic Church's version of the creed:

1. I believe in God, the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth.2. I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord.
3. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary.
4. He suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.
5. He descended to the dead. On the third day he rose again.
6. He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
7. He will come again to judge the living and the dead.
8. I believe in the Holy Spirit,
9. the holy catholic Church, the communion of saints,
10. the forgiveness of sins,
11. the resurrection of the body,
12. and life everlasting.

So, we see that most Christians have a creed, but the question at hand is if Jews have a creed. I think the answer is a little more complicated than Lesley's book's emphatic no. The Hebrew and the ancient rabbinic writings do not have systematic lists of dogmas like the Catholic Church, but the Rabbis of the Mishnah do teach in Sanhedrin 10:1

All Jews have a share in the world to come . . . But the following do not have a share in the world to come: one who says that resurrection is not taught in the Torah, one who says that the Torah was not divinely revealed, and the epikoros . . .

The Hebrew Bible and Rabbinic writings do have specific beliefs like monotheism and, as seen above, there are heresies, but according to Menachem Kellner, "none of the beliefs cited is singled out as enjoying special status." That is until we get to the Rambam in the twelfth century. In his commentary on Sanhedrin 10:1 he elucidates thirteen beliefs that he thinks every Jew has to accept to be considered part of the community. Here is a summary of his thirteen articles of faith according to Kellner:

1. God exists
2. God is one
3. God is incorporeal
4. God is ontologically prior to the world
5. God alone is fit to worship
6. Prophecy occurs
7. The prophecy of Moses is superior to that of all other prophets
8. The Torah was revealed from heaven
9. The Torah will never be uprooted or altered
10. God knows the acts of human beings
11. God rewards the righteous and punishes the wicked
12. The Messiah will come
13. The dead will be resurrected

One of the greatest sages of all of Jewish history, the Rambam, believes that Judaism has a creed. Most Jewish scholars after the Rambam did not agree with him. Some disagreed with the number of articles of faith, and some did not think that they were necessary. Even though the his thirteen have never become an official creed, they have found their way into traditional prayerbooks in two poetic forms: the Ani Ma'amin (here is a great pop rendition) and Yigdal (I like this video. It is much more traditional. Here are a bunch of different musical renditions.) So, Judaism doesn't really have creeds and dogmas, but it we have poems that are creed-like; it's hard to excise the Rambam from the siddur.

A lot of people like to say that Judaism is more a religion of action than of belief (hence the statement from the JPS book in the original question from Leslie). These people say that it more important that we "do Jewish" than "think Jewish". They might even say that "deed leads to creed." If you live the mitzvot, belief will come. The founders of our Reform Movement in the nineteenth century had a slightly different take on that. They wanted to distill Judaism to what they felt was its essence. Therefore they downplayed ritual and said that the essence of Judaism was ethical monotheism. Ethical monotheism is the belief in the One God who demands moral behavior. The classical Reformers therefore held that Judaism's "moral laws" were eternal and its "ritual laws" were open to change. Rituals had to instill morals. Since belief in the God of morals was the most important thing, many Reform Jews turned the first line of the Shema (Deut. 6:4) into a creedal liturgical moment. They often called it "the watchword of our faith." In American Reform temples, worshipers would go against traditional Jewish practice and stand for "Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is One. Praised be His name whose glorious kingdom is forever and ever" like Christians did in church when reciting their creed.

While most Reform Jews today still stand for the first line of the Shema, I don't think that Reform Judaism still thinks of Judaism in creedal terms. To quote Kellner again:

Today, for all intents and purposes, the question of dogma qua dogma in Judaism is a dead issue. Orthodox, Conservative, and Reconstructionist Judaism all emphasize, each in its own way, practice over dogma, and even Reform Judaism, despite its repeated attempts to dine itself in quasi-dogmatic terms, basically appears to operate in the same framework.

So, I believe that answers Leslie's question.

Go Cards or Shabbat Shalom?

2011-10-28T10:20:00.000-07:00

As I hail from St. Louis, I was born a Cardinals fan. For my very traditional grandfather, Shabbat was Shabbat, unless of course the Cards were playing. So, what to do tonight? Here is a great post on the Forward about this dilema.

New in 5772: Ask the Rabbi

2011-10-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

I have started a new feature on Darchei Noam called "Ask the Rabbi." You can ask me any Jewish questions (you get to define what "Jewish question" means), and I will attempt to explore them on the blog. Notice that I didn't write answer them because sometimes good questions don't have answers, they just bring up more questions. You can send me your questions via the Beth Israel webpage, and I will periodically select questions to feature on the blog.

So, here is the first question of 5772 from Karen, and it is very timely:

Where exactly did the Hebrew year come from? We're going into 5772. I've read it's supposed to be the start of the world, which we know isn't true, but how was this derived?

Great question. You mean the world isn't 5772 years old? To answer Karen's question, we have to go back to the Tannaim who attempted to calculate the date of Creation. The ancient sage Rabbi Yossi ben Halafta calculated, by using the Bible's account of lifetimes and kingdoms, the creation of the world to have been on (in our secular calendar system) on Monday Oct. 7, 3761 BCE. Here is Rabbi Yossi's scheme. A work attributed to Rabbi Yossi callled Seder Olam codified this view, and by the Middle Ages, this became the standard Jewish date. "Christians count from the birth of their guy, but we count from the birth of everything," I can see one of our ancestors exclaiming.

Now does this mean that to be a Jew you have to believe that the world is only 5772 years old? The simple answer is: no! Some Jews do take it literally, but they are very small in number. Some try to find mystical meanings in the number and then reconcile it to science and the Big Bang. Others, like me, read it as a myth. When I use the word "myth", I do not mean "fairy tale" or "lie" as it is usually defined in today's parlance. I mean "myth" as a foundational story that give our personal and communal lives meaning (see Neil Gillman). When we Jews say that we are counting from Creation, we are saying the world and our role in it is important. In other words, our lives are orientated towards the world. We live in creation, and it our job to help bring perfection to God's creation.

Shabbat Shalom.

Mah Tovu--How Fair are Your Tents, O Jacob

2011-08-17T15:21:00.000-07:00

For the last several weeks in services I have mentioned the huge "tent protests" happening all over Israel. Here is a great commentary on what is happening from the eminent political philosopher Michael Walzer in the New Republic:
Why The Mass Protests In Israel Are Cause For Hope | The New Republic

Joplin, MO

2011-05-27T12:32:00.000-07:00

Every other weekend during the academic year of 2004-2005 I had the pleasure of serving the United Hebrew Congregation in Joplin, MO as their student rabbi. During my third year of rabbinical school the small but dedicated Jewish community helped teach me what it means to be a rabbi. They helped me decide to go into the pulpit rabbinate after my ordination. I found out the other day that luckily no member of the Jewish community was seriously injured from the tornado, but the community does need help. The Jewish community of St. Louis (where I am from) is leading an effort to assist them, and so is this year's student rabbi from Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati Ariel Boxman. May the Jews in Joplin have a Shabbat Shalom.

Oy . . . Glenn Beck

2011-02-23T11:56:00.000-08:00

First, he insulted me and my take on Judaism by saying that people should flock from congregations that state that their mission is "social justice," and now, this: Glenn Beck has insulted me and all my colleagues of "reformed"(sic.) rabbis. On his radio show he reacted to a letter signed by 400 rabbis to Fox News claiming that Beck has gone to far with his rhetoric of always using Holocaust and Nazi imagery. Listen to the clip at 2:55 to hear why I am insulted.

I don't think I am a radical. Maybe I have been brainwashed by Rabbi David Saperstein.

Debbie Friedman z"l

2011-01-12T16:23:00.000-08:00

I started this blog a little over a year ago with a post about my favorite piece of Jewish music. In memory of Debbie Friedman, I would like to talk about my favorite piece of her music. I love her Oseh Shalom, L'cha Dodi, and Shir Hama'alot, but I think my favorite is her Kaddish D'Rabanan. I wouldn't normally choose a song all in English, but this one especially moves me. The Aramaic prayer Kaddish D'Rabanan (The Rabbi's Kaddish) itself is said after one studies Torah in memory of our teachers who are in the yeshivah shel ma'alah. I like how Debbie's tune starts out kind of somber and builds into a celebration of Torah. Debbie Friedman was our teacher who taught us as liberal American Jews how to celebrate the Torah in song. Here are her words for her Kaddish D'Rabanan:

For our teachers and their students,
and the students of the students,
we ask for peace and lovingkindness,
and let us say, Amen.

And for those who study Torah
here and everywhere,
may they be blessed with all they need,
and let us say, Amen.

We ask for peace and lovingkindness,
and let us say, Amen.

Hope you have a great Shabbat that happens to fall on another holiday

2010-12-23T14:45:00.000-08:00

Hope you enjoy these articles about Jews and this festive season. The first one is about Jews and Chinese food.

http://www.tabletmag.com/life-and-religion/53569/jewish-christmas/

http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/About_Holidays/Non-Jewish_Holidays/Christmas/Jews_and_Christmas.shtml

http://www.myjewishlearning.com/holidays/About_Holidays/Non-Jewish_Holidays/Christmas/Jews_and_Christmas/Eastern_Europe.shtml?HYAB

Shabbat Shalom.

Some Interesting Hanukkah Reading

2010-12-03T13:38:00.000-08:00

Here are two op-eds relating Hanukkah to current events.

"On Chanukah and Extremism" by Avi Savitzky

"WikiLeaks, Revolutions and the Maccabees" by J.J. Goldberg

Chag Urim Sameach and Shabbat Shalom!

36 Arguments for the Existence of God

2010-11-09T15:33:00.000-08:00

I just finished the great novel "36 Arguments for the Existence of God: A Work of Fiction" by Rebecca Newberger Goldstein. (She's going to be speaking at the San Diego Jewish Book Fair on Monday Nov. 15.) The book is a funny satire on American academic (or Jewish academic) life. The main character, Cass Seltzer, is called an "atheist with a soul." In the novel he writes a book about the psychology of religious belief, but it is the appendix to the book that makes him famous. It is a series of thirty-six arguments for the existence of God that he then refutes. The arguments are all found in the end of the novel.

As a rabbi, I am often asked about God, especially by people exploring Judaism. I think they take if for granted that a religious person is supposed to believe in God, but I think what people are really asking me is what it means to believe in God. What is belief for a contemporary Jew? What is contemporary Jewish faith? I hope to explore what it means to me in the next few posts.

CSA at UTC

2010-10-13T13:20:00.000-07:00

Food on Yom Kippur

2010-09-28T15:47:00.000-07:00

Here is my Yom Kippur sermon:

The Ba’al Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, said, “When you eat and take pleasure in the taste and sweetness of your food, bear in mind that it is the Eternal One who has placed into the food its taste and sweetness. You will, then, truly serve God by your eating.”

Oy, what’s the rabbi doing? Talking about food on Yom Kippur? I’m already hungry, and it’s only the morning service. What am I going to feel like when we get to Yizkor?

Yes, today, on Yom Kippur, I am going to make a gutsy move and talk about food. I am either going to make my rhetorical point brilliantly, or you might just chase me out of town.

So, here I go. Food is an essential part of Jewish life. Much of Judaism is celebrated around the table—Shabbat, the Pesach seder, eating outside in a Sukkah, latkes, humentashen, and of course, there is not eating on Yom Kippur. Food is not only a Jewish topic. Food is always in the headlines—usually it’s a scary headline. Just recently we saw that eggs could make you sick or even kill you, or before that it was spinach and peanuts and beef. Food is also huge in other areas of the media, not just the scary news media. The Food Network is teaching us all to be gourmet cooks, and it seems like every other show on the Travel Chanel is food related.

American culture is obsessed with diets, but also big portions. We love to eat, often quickly, and in the car. We also love the supermarket, where we can get any kind of food from anywhere in the world at any season and any kind of food-like edible substance like Twinkies or frozen sausages on a stick wrapped in a chocolate chip pancake or Bacconaise.

While most of us here have a huge supermarket near us with healthy and unhealthy food at relatively reasonable prices, many people in America do not have the same access to food. In poor neighborhoods all throughout the US, you will be hard pressed to find a grocery store. Tons of fast-food and convenient stores, but not the same thing you find in well off suburbs. I think that it is amazing that in America, in poorer urban and rural areas, obesity and malnutrition are huge issues. Someone can be obese and malnourished at the same time. One huge factor causing this is a lack of access to good, healthy food. Healthy food, like fruits and vegetables, are expensive. Processed food that one can buy at convenience stores is cheap. One can buy a McDouble cheese burger at McDonalds for $1. (This is a cheap way to feed a financially struggling family.) In fact, according to food writer Michael Pollan, this food is artificially cheap, largely because of government subsidies to corn growers and industrial meat growers. Healthier options like fruits and vegetables only got .37% of federal food subsidies between the years 1995 and 2005. Not 37%; .37%.

Part of the problem with our wacky food culture here in America is that we don’t really know where our food comes from (unless of course you are a farmer). Sure, we know where we buy it, and some groceries tell us the origin of our produce, but we don’t really have a relationship with our food. Seasons don’t mean anything to us. We can purchase asparagus anytime of the year. If there is a drought or blight, we in America can still buy what we want.

Our ancient Israelite ancestors had a relationship with their food. Much of the Torah is filled with agricultural laws. The ancient worship system in the Temple was based on sacrificing crops and animals from the herd. A few weeks ago in the synagogue we read in the Torah about the elaborate ritual the Israelite would perform when he brought the firsts of his crops to the Temple to dedicate to God. He gave thanks to God for his yield. He knew how tenuous his whole life was. If it didn’t rain, and those who have been to the land of Israel know that it doesn’t rain that much, his family might not eat. He had a relationship with the land, the weather, his crops, the food that came from his crops, and all of this led him to his God the creator of all. This whole system brought wonder and thanksgiving. Our ancestors could truly say before they ate, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haOlam, haMotzi lechem min ha’aretz. Blessed are You, God, the One who brings forth bread from the earth.”

Yes, I know what many of you are thinking. Most Jews (except a few in Israel) are no longer farmers and herders. The stereotypical Jewish mother wants us all to be lawyers and doctors. True, but it wasn’t that long ago when Americans, Jews and non-Jews, knew from where their food came, knew what produce was fresh in what season. People did not expect fresh asparagus shipped from South America in autumn.

Jews, for the last 1800 or so years when we were not predominately farmers, also had a another relationship with our food—a commanded one. The Jewish food laws, kashrut, were laid down in the Torah and expanded upon in Rabbinic literature. Jews generally knew what foods were permitted and what foods were forbidden, what dishes and utensils to use, and how meat needed to be slaughtered. Keeping kosher created a food culture that kept Jews together and distinct as a people.

But, in the nineteenth century with the advent of Reform Judaism, especially in America, Jews religious relationship with food started to change. In 1885 in Pittsburgh, a group of Reform rabbis wrote, “We hold that all such Mosaic and rabbinical laws as regulate diet, priestly purity, and dress originated in ages and under the influence of ideas entirely foreign to our present mental and spiritual state. They fail to impress the modern Jew with a spirit of priestly holiness; their observance in our days is apt rather to obstruct than to further modern spiritual elevation.” They were saying that times have changed, now that we Jews live in an open and free society, we do not need to separate ourselves from our gentile brethren in areas such as food. As they wrote, “We acknowledge that the spirit of broad humanity of our age is our ally in the fulfillment of our mission, and therefore we extend the hand of fellowship to all who cooperate with us in the establishment of the reign of truth and righteousness among men.” Many Jews jumped at this opportunity to not have to keep kosher, and today, most Jews do not as understood by the classical Jewish sources.

So, here we are. We as Americans seem to have lost our relationship to where our food comes from, and we as Jews have lost our sense that Judaism, especially Reform Judaism, cares about what we eat.

That is why, today, on Yom Kippur, I am challenging us to reestablish a healthy relationship with our food—a holy relationship with our food. I am asking us to do this because the food we eat greatly affects us and our planet. We as Jews need to be concerned about food because of the Jewish concepts of shmirat haguf, protecting one’s body, bal tashchit, literally “not destroying” which means taking care of our environment, and tzedek, justice.

I would like to start with tzedek, justice.

While the platform written by our Reform founders in 1885 seemed to absolve Reform Jews of all food issues, in reality the Movement has very much been involved in food. To cite an example that many of you might remember or may have been involve with: In 1969 the then Union of American Hebrew Congregations, the Movement’s congregational organization, passed this resolution:

WHEREAS, like other farm workers, the grape pickers of California and Arizona do not enjoy the benefits of the National Labor Relations Act or other federal legislation mandating a collective bargaining process.

These grape pickers, among the poorest working people in our land of plenty, have appealed to the conscience of the country to support in their desperate struggle to secure a collective bargaining agreement with the growers of table grapes. We cannot stay indifferent to their appeal, nor to the right of other farm workers to a fair share of the fruit of their labors.

THEREFORE, THE 50TH GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF THE UAHC RESOLVES:

1. to urge the Congress of the United States to extend collective bargaining rights to farm workers by an appropriate amendment to the National Labor Relations Act:

2. to affirm its support for the grape pickers of California and Arizona by urging all its members and affiliates to join in the boycott of table grapes from those states until a collective bargaining agreement has been reached;

3. to call on the Commission on Social Action to help all UAHC congregations and affiliates in the implementation of the boycott until such action is taken by the Congress of the United States.

We have here the Reform Movement suggesting a limit on what we eat because of justice issues. By not eating grapes, a Reform Jew was following the mitzvah, the religious obligation, of not oppressing the worker. As it says in the Torah: “You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow Israelite or a stranger in one of the communities of your land. You must pay out the wages due on the same day, before the sun sets, for the worker is needy and urgently depends on it; else a cry to the Eternal will be issued against you and you will incur guilt.” Again, in 1976, the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the organization of Reform Rabbis, called on all Reform Jews to eat only grapes and lettuce with the United Farm Workers’ label.

The food we eat is very much related to justice issues. A few years ago I was outraged when Argriprossesors, one of the largest meat processing companies in the country, and the largest kosher meat company, was charged with illegal child labor, hiring illegal immigrants, and was fined for violations of labor laws. Kosher means fit. Is our food kosher if it is not ethically produced? An organization started by the Conservative Jewish Movement and given support by the Reform Movement, called Magen Tzedek, “Shield of Justice,” asks this question. They plan to give a hechsher tzedek, a just kosher certification, to food companies that meet Jewish ethical standards of wages and benefits for workers, care for animals, and concern for the environment.

The food we eat is very much tied to justice--from workers rights to access to healthy food for the poor. As Jews with our strict ethical demands, doing something as elemental and animal as eating is a great way to get us to act. Like the Reform Movement called on it members to think about ethics and food in the 60’s and 70’s by supporting the United Farm Workers, I call on us to find out about the ethics of our food. We can support organizations like Magen Tzedek that do the investigation for us. Some great Jewish resources to help you are the website of the organization Hazon, and the Union for Reform Judaism’s new website, Just Table, Green Table.

Having a holy relationship with our food can help our health help us follow the principle of shmirat haguf. Last year in Toronto, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, the president of the Union for Reform Judaism, in his Shabbat sermon to the Biennial convention of the URJ, asked Reform Jews to cut back on the eating of red meat. One of his reasons was for health. It is well know that red meat is high in cholesterol, and some studies link eating large amounts red meat to certain diseases. And, Americans consume a lot of red meat. The average American eats about 67 pounds of beef annually out of 195 pounds of total meat consumed. Every year we eat more, we have double our consumption in the last fifty years, and it goes without saying that we eat way more than our ancestors. In the book of Exodus God capitulates to the complaining Israelites who wanted to eat meat by giving them meat. But, God was really punishing them, because the people ate so much meat that they got sick. Rashi, the great medieval commentator notes about this incident, “The Torah taught proper conduct, that meat should not be eaten to the point of being satiated.” Jewish tradition has a ambivalence about eating meat. It was seen in Genesis as a concession to humanity’s darker urges after the Flood, and many great sages hold the vegetarianism of the Garden of Eden to be the ideal. And against popular perception, Jewish law does not hold that one needs to eat meat on Shabbat and holy days.

Cutting back on red meat can help your cholesterol, but I want to add to what Rabbi Yoffie said, to give other reasons that cutting back on all meat is shmirat haguf, healthy living. Most meat in America is grown on industrial farms that keep the animals in very tight quarters. To use the example of cattle, they are fed corn and soy because they are cheap and we have an abundance of them and they makes the cattle fat. But, cattle do not naturally eat corn and soy. They eat grass. So, these cattle often get sick, and the stress of living in close quarters does not help. Corn fed cattle have 80% more E. coli in their guts than the more natural grass fed cattle. So, the cattle are given antibiotics and hormones. Scientists are now beginning to study the effects of these antibiotics on us. There are similar situations when it comes to chicken farms. Hence, the salmonella outbreak in our eggs. Cutting back on meat, or only eating the rarer solely grass fed variety can help.

Judaism is a tradition concerned with the whole self, including a healthy body, but cutting down on meat can also help foster a healthy environment. This brings us to our third principle, bal tashchit, protecting the environment. I am quoting Rabbi Yoffie from his biennial sermon, “The meat industry today generates nearly one-fifth of the man-made greenhouse gas emissions that are accelerating climate change throughout the world. According to a U.N. report, animal agriculture is responsible for more greenhouse gas than all transportation sources combined. And the preparation of beef meals requires about fifteen times the amount of fossil fuel energy than meat-free meals” Plus, I would add, there is all the waste from the huge factory farms that has to be disposed of, often in our water table. Yoffie continues, “Professor Gidon Eshel of the Bard Center has suggested that the effect of reducing our collective meat consumption by twenty percent would be comparable to every American driving a Prius instead of a standard sedan. And this twenty percent reduction is something that every one of us - every Jew, every family, every synagogue - can do.”

To the reduction in meat, to help our environment, we can add eating more pesticide free food, and locally grown food that has not traveled huge distances by truck or ocean liner spewing carbon to arrive in your supermarket. We live in California where much of the country’s best food is grown. It is fairly easy to eat local food that has not traveled great distances.

Our preschool students are doing it with their garden at CBI. During the summer we had the first harvest of cucumbers. I remember with joy the look of excitement on the children’s faces when they got to eat the literal fruit of their labor. They got to experience living Judaism as they learned the blessing for veggies and got to eat their delicious produce. They experienced the spirituality of food. They had a holy relationship with their food.

One great way to eat in a way that is local and environmentally sustainable is to join Congregation Beth Israel’s CSA at the UTC Mall Farmers’ Market. CSA is community supported agriculture. When one becomes a member of a CSA, one supports local farmers that grow sustainable produce while being kind to the environment. By becoming a member of our CSA, you will be able to weekly pick up a box at the UTC Mall of fresh and in-season fruit and vegetables. You will meet and have a relationship with the farmers and their workers and know from where your food comes. The farms that you support will help you expand your eating options by supplying you with healthy food that you might not have ever thought of cooking. Instead of eating on the go, cooking healthy food at home (especially for Shabbat, which will be easier because of Beth Israel’s new service schedule) helps bring family and friends together. Also, periodically I will be at the market teaching about Judaism and ethical eating as a way to create a community of members of CBI concerned about sustainable living. I think it will also be a great outreach effort of CBI to show the San Diego community what we are about.

By being a member of the Beth Israel CSA we will be supporting these local farms: Eli's Farm, Carlsbad Strawberry, Santiago Farms, Riva Farms, Peterson Farms, B Street Growers, and Tomorrow’s Organic Farm. By knowing the origins of our food, we create the holy relationship with our eating while we are cognizant of how our eating is related to tzedek, justice, shmirat haguf, healthy living, and bal tashchit, stewardship of the environment. When we say hamotzi before we eat our wonderful meals, blessing God as the One who brings forth bread from the earth, we will understand the holy process of people in partnership with the Creator who made it possible for us to sustain ourselves.

For more info on the CSA, please read October’s Tidings or go the Social Action page on our website. This sermon is kicking off our Tikkun Olam/Social Action Committee’s year of sustainable living. Sustainable living through food will be a big theme this year as we continue to feed the hunger through the CBI Hunger Project, and the capstone of the year will be our Sustainable Living Expo in the spring.

In the haftarah that we just read a few minutes ago God says through the prophet Isaiah:

“ . . . this is the fast I desire. To unlock fetters of wickedness, the shackles of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke to let the oppressed go free; To break off every yoke. It is to share your bread with the hungry, and to take the poor into your home. When you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to ignore your own kin.” If I can be so bold to tweak the words of the prophet, “No, this is the eating I desire. Eating that does not oppress the laborer or damage your body or destroy the earth. Holy eating.”

Have a Sweet New Year

2010-09-08T11:00:00.000-07:00

Here is something to get you in the mood for tonight from one of my favorites, Leonard Cohen.

You might also want to check out J.J. Goldberg's list on the Forward site of songs that get him in the mood for Rosh Hashanah.

ReJewvination

2010-08-20T15:32:00.000-07:00

I recently spent a week on the rabbinic faculty at URJ Camp Newman in Santa Rosa. I had a great time and was, to quote a new friend I made at camp, Rabbi Darren Kleinberg, "reJewvinated." (Maybe now I will blog more, but I also have the specter of the High Holy Days hanging over me. I still have to finish my sermons.) Spending the week at camp helped reiterate for me how important camp is in building Jewish identity in kids. Camp is the holistic Jewish society that they don't get in their everyday lives in secular schools (and in some of their homes). At camp, swimming, arts and crafts, and archery are Jewish. Camp makes being Jewish natural.

I often think about sure-fire ways to ensure that our children will choose Judaism as adults. Here's some:

1. Move the family to Boro Park. I don't really advocate this one, but living in an Ultra-Orthodox environment cut off from much of the rest of the world will ensure Jewish identity in your children. Not the kind of Jewish identity I advocate, but Jewish nonetheless. Then again, if you move when the kids are too old, they may totally rebel and forsake Jewish life.

2. Make aliyah to Israel. A different kind of all Jewish society than Boro Park. I do advocate this one for anyone who chooses, but I think this option is off the table for most American Jews. And, today I am worried about the feelings of "Jewishness" of many sectors of Israeli society.

3. Send your kids to a Jewish day school. This is an expensive option, and it might not work unless you add it to number #4.

4. Be Jews at home. Celebrate Shabbat and holidays with joy, not as chores. Talk about the Torah, Israel, and Jewish issues. Have Jewish books and art all around the house. Have a community of other like minded Jews.

5. Send your kids to Jewish camp. It's probably good to get them out of the house for a while. Good for you and good for them.

Apologies and a little about food

2010-07-09T11:54:00.000-07:00

I am very sorry about my lack of posts in the last few weeks. I know that I said that I would be talking about vegetarianism, and I will, but in the meantime, here is a sermon I delivered last week that is related. It is about ethical eating.

Over the past few years at my different pulpits I have had the pleasure of speaking to several different Christian groups. During my talks, I always leave time for a Q and A session. I love this part because I often would get some of the most challenging and interesting questions. Undoubtedly, someone will ask a question about sacrifices. Maybe this has happened to some of you when talking to believing Christians. There are the questions that are a little misinformed about current Jewish practice. They sometimes start like this: Rabbi, I thought the service was beautiful, but when does the animal sacrifice happen? Then there are the Christological questions like: Without animal sacrifice, how do you Jews atone for your sins?

The reason that well meaning people ask us these questions is of course because they read the Bible where the Israelites are always sacrificing animals, and if we modern Jews are the decedents of our biblical ancestors, shouldn’t we be doing the same thing? As it says in this week’s parashah, Pinhas, among other places, “The Eternal One spoke to Moses, saying: Command the Israelite people and say to them: Be punctilious in presenting to Me at stated times the offerings of food due me, as offerings by fire of pleasing odor to me . . . . A regular burnt offering every day.”

Now, most of us, myself included, are probably satisfied with the main Jewish mode of worship that has taken hold after the destruction of the two temples. That is, namely, prayer. Instead of offering sacrifices, the Rabbis say that we offer avodah she’ba’lev—worship of the heart, which they say is prayer. While not wanting a reinstitution of the Temple system, I would like us to do a reexamination. Let us now take a close look at what the sacrifices were and what they meant to the Israelites.

Offering up animals and crops (sacrifices were also vegetarian) as worship to gods or God was very natural in the ancient word. From Greece to India, that was the normal mode of praise. Many cultures believed that the sacrifices were actually sustenance for their gods, and there are hints of that in our Torah portion and elsewhere in the Torah, but many scholars think that the Israelites felt that this was symbolic. As God exclaims in Psalm 50, “Were I hungry, I would not tell you, for Mine is the world and all it holds. Do I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of he-goats?” But God is not against the sacrificial system; God decreed it according to the Torah and this Psalm. I continue, “Sacrifice a thank offering to God, and pay your vows to the Most High. Call upon Me in time of trouble; I will rescue you, and you shall honor Me.”

So, if sacrifice to the Israelites was not a way for the people to appease their hungry God, what was it? Sacrifice was a way for the worshiper, or worshipers, to feel close to God, for one Hebrew word for sacrifice is Korban which literally means “something brought near.” The worshiper experiences this nearness to God through ritual and a sacred meal.

As I said before, I do not want a return to Temple sacrifice, but I would like to see a return to the spirit of sacrifice, and I’m not using the English meaning of the word “sacrifice” (to give up something) but the Hebrew term korban—to draw close, bring something near.

And where are we nearer than when we are eating with each other? When the Temple was destroyed, the Rabbis decreed that our Shabbat tables become like the alter. This is why many Jews will wash their hands ritually and put salt on their challah mimicking the priests in the Temple. But, what does this mean that our tables are like the alter? Well, for one, we have these rituals and others like blessings—motzi, Kiddush, etc. Our blessings and rituals can bring us to the mindset of holiness, of sacrifice. When we say motzi, “. . . who brings forth bread from the earth,” we are recognizing the Diving/human partnership in our food. We know that God did not literally bring bread from the earth, but created the world in which farmers, bakers and we can bring forth this bread. Like the priestly rituals around the sacrifices brought the right amount of awe, reverence and thanksgiving, our rituals and blessings can do the same to our meals.

Second, though, is that we can and should be eating in communion with others, just as the Israelites and priests ate together in the presence of God. How many times have we had a great meal with great conversation and the time just blew by and we felt sublime during it. This is what korban is about because when we connect with each other, we are connecting with the divine. We are drawing near to God, and we are bringing God into our relationships. Our meals can become sacred, like in ancient times, we just need to make the time. This is the spirit of sacrifice.

Another way to bring the spirit of the sacrifices into our lives is by looking at what we do eat. The ancient Temple had prohibited and accepted foods which have been brought down to us as the laws of Kashrut—kosher laws. Kashrut has been interpreted as a way of bringing holiness into one of the most animal acts that we do, namely eating. This was done by separation between fit and unfit, as Kashrut literally means fitness .

Whether we follow the traditional laws of kashrut or not, we can still make a separation with our food between fit and unfit. Is the food that we are eating processed in a plant where they are cruel to the animals? Or, is the food that we are eating processed where they treat the workers like animals? These are two things that the biggest Kosher meat producer in America is being accused of.

We can also ask about the environmental impact that our food is creating on our planet. Do we need fruit shipped to us all year long from South America or New Zealand, or can we eat local fruits and veggies? The food that we eat affects the whole world, just as our ancestors believed that their sacrifices at the Temple did. The sacrifices they brought, they felt, sustained the world, (Al shlosha d’varim . . . avodah . . . Temple worship), and our food can be sustainable.

There are Jewish organizations that are trying to bring back this spirit of korban, sacrifice, to our food like the website the Jew and the Carrot, Hazon, and Magen Tzedek. Rabbi Allen Morris, the founder of Magen Tzedek writes, “We need to be in a world where we can say that keeping kosher is the way in which I demonstrate not only a concern for my relationship to God and Torah but the Jewish concern for our relationship to the world in which we live.”

Just as our ancestors brought their foods to Jerusalem to eat in the presence of God, we can bring the presence of God back into our meals as we eat in the spirit of sacrifice—the spirit of the korbanot.

If only we had meat to eat . . .

2010-05-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

This week's Torah portion, B'haalot'cha, states: "The people took to complaining bitterly before the Eternal . . . The riffraff in their midst felt a gluttonous craving; and then the Israelites wept and said, 'If only we had meat to eat!" (Numbers 11:1, 4) God replies, "The Eternal will give you meat and you shall eat. You shall eat not one day, not two, not even five days or ten or twenty, but a whole month, until it come out of your nostrils and becomes laothsome to you. For you have rejected the Eternal who among you by whining . . ."

God gives the people quails, and they eat so much that a plague kills many of them.

I have been thinking more and more about vegetarianism. I will try to blog on that later.

Shabbat Shalom

Mitzvah as Commission

2010-05-25T15:09:00.000-07:00

The other day I listened to a podcast of a pucblic lecture from the Jewish Theological Society about translating the Psalms. One of the speakers was the bible scholar Stephen Geller. One thing that really stuck with me is that he said that we should not translate the Hebrew word mitzvah as "commandment" but as "commision." I think the word "commission" gives the idea of mitzvah as a holy undertaking in partnership with God, rather than just following orders from a hierarchical master.

Blessings from the High Priest Leonard Cohen

2010-05-20T17:15:00.000-07:00

In honor of this week's Torah portion, Naso, Leonard Cohen using his Kohen status to conclude his Tel Aviv concert. Enjoy!

Omer Counting Day 38

2010-05-07T13:58:00.000-07:00

Since we are winding down our counting of the Omer, and we are almost at Shavuot, I have been ruminating a lot on revelation. Do I need a firm belief in the revelation of Torah from God to celebrate Shavuot or to be a believing Jew? I rationally know that the Torah was written and compiled by people over a period of several hundred years, but can I also believe that it was given by God?

To help me think about these questions, I turn to a symposium in the pages of the August 1966 edition of Commentary Magazine called "The State of Jewish Belief". (I didn't just happen to come across it while reading old Commentary magazines in a library, it is a pretty famous symposium in the Jewish thought world. They did it again in 1996) In the symposium, the respondents were asked a serious of questions about Jewish belief. The first question concerns us here: In what sense do yo believe the Torah to be divine revelation?

I want to look at a few approaches to this question. The first is from Norman Lamm, who in 1966 was the rabbi fo the Jewish Center in New York City, and is now the Chancellor of Yeshiva University. In answering this question he writes:

I believe the Torah is divine revelation in two ways: in that it is God-given and in that it is godly. By 'God-giver,' I mean that He willed that man abide by His commandments and that that will was communicated in discrete words and letters . . . Language, though so faulty an instrument, is still the best means of communication to most human beings . . . Hence, I accept unapologetically the idea of the verbal revelation of the Torah.

At the time, Norman Lamm and Yeshiva University were at the center of Centrist Orthodoxy. I cannot accept this premise that the Torah was litterally spoken by God to Moshe because I am persuaded by the historical arguments of biblical criticism.

So, on to another respondent. Mordecai M. Kaplan, perhaps the most important American Jewish thinker of the 20th century:

Instead of assuming the Torah "to be divine revelation," I assume it to be the expression of ancient Israel's attempt to base its life on a declaration of depndence upon God, and on a constitution which embodies the laws according to which God expected ancient Israel to live. The declaration is spelled out in the narrative part of the Torah, and the constitution is spelled out in the law code of the Torah.

Kaplan wrote in his journal something even more radical:

The problem of Judaism would not be so acute if the traditional doctrine of revelation were merely obsolete. The trouble is that to cherish that doctrine is as unethical as being guilty of bigamy. To believe that we are in possession of the authentically revealed will of God is incompatible with religious tolerance to say nothing of religious equality.

I cannot accept Kaplan because I think he has moved God to far out of the picture. Torah isn't simply a book that records our people's ancient stories and law codes. I sense something divine, whatever that means, there. Also, I don't think it is unethical to believe that God had a special revelation for Jews. It doesn't mean that other people do not have their special revelations.

So, one more thinker, Jakob J. Petuchowski who was a very influential teacher of many of my teachers. He was a professor at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati.

I believe that the Torah is a document of revelation; but I am not a fundamentalist. I believe that the words we read in the Torah were written by men; yet I am not a non-theistic humanist. The men who wrote the Torah wrote it under the impact of a religious experience--an experience of God's concern for Israel, of God's incursion into history. And not only the men who wrote it. The experience was shared by the men who accepted it--or there would have been no such acceptance.

For Petuchowski, Torah is not simply the text in the scolls in the ark, it is what results when we hear God's command and sense God's commanding presence. For me, this is the revelation we celebrate on Shavuot. Sinai is where the Jewish people entered into a relationship after experiencing God. As W. Gunther Plaut writes in the symposium:

Divine revelation is a self-disclosure of God. It requires God as well as man to give it reality, for all revelation is a form of communication. To reveal need not imply speaking-and-hearing--perhaps it never does; it always means the communicaiton of selfness and essence. Divine revelation is God's-accessibility-and-man's-knowing.

Have a Shabbat Shalom.

Holiness Part 3

2010-04-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

Contemporary rabbi Elyse Goldstein now makes her comment on Rashi's commentary in The Torah: A Women's Commentary:

Rashi's definition of kadosh (holy) as "separate" presents a fundamental feminist challenge. The challenge is evident as well throughout rabbinic Judaism wherre authorities have portrayed the mitzvot as drawing lines between "us" and "them," lines that demarcate who is in (for example, circumcision marking a Jewish boy) and who is out (for example, the halachah of not counting women in a minyan). While feminist have challenged specific mitzvot, finding a way "in" through creative rereading and even reinventing, we have not yet sufficiently challenged the very notion of mitzvot that rest upon the "spirituallity of separation." This notion is at the heart of much that Jews do--including kashrut, Shabbat, and the marriage ceremony, just to name a few. Redefining the mitzvot as connectors rather than as boundaries, as dialogue rather than answers, is a first step toward addressing the question of how we as women will be kadosh. Although we are still at the beginning of exploring what a fully developed feminist notion of being holy mihgt look like, the opening words of this parashah--k'doshim tih'yu--cary both a command for now and promise for the future: we can and we will finds ways to be holy.

Amen. Shabbat Shalom.

More on Holiness

2010-04-23T11:14:00.000-07:00

Ramban disagrees slightly with Rashi. Holiness is not only about keeping yourself separate form forbidden sexual relationships. Here are some of his comments on Lev. 19:1-2:

In my opinion, [holiness] does not refer to keeeping 'separate' from the sexual trangressions, as Rashi thinks, but to the separateness ascribed throughout the Talmud to people it calls 'Pharisees,' that is, 'Separatists,' meaning those who exercise self-restraint. You see, the Torah proscribes man and wife, eating meat, and drinking wine. So there is license for a man of appetite to steep himself in lust with his wife (or his many wifes), or to 'be of those who guzzle wine, or glut themselves on meat' (Prov. 23:20), or to discuss all sorts of vile things, as long as they involve something that the Torah does not explicitly prohibit. One could therefore be a scoundrel with the full permission of the Torah. [emphasis is mine]

And now Rabbi Louis Jacob's commentary on the Ramban's commentary (don't you love Jewish learning? We have commentary on commentary.):

Holiness, according to Nahmanides, and he is followed by other Jewish teachers, is the attitude of the Jew who has no wish, in his pungent expression, to be “a scoundrel with the full permission of the Torah.” Nahmanides’ point is that the rules and regulations of the Torah constitute the bare minimum of decent behavior expected of every Jew, a standard below which none should fall. But an essential part of the Torah discipline is that the Jew is obliged to go beyond these minimum rules. For this there can be no hard-and-fast rules, since all depends on individual character and temperament. What may be modbid indulgence, leading to a softening of the moral fiber, for one, may be a necessity for another. For all its insistence on rules, Judaism, according to Nahmanides, acknowledges that there is a whole area of life, the area of the licit, where man’s freedom of choice must operate in determining those things which will help him to live more worthily and those which can pollute his soul.

So, according to the Ramban, if one followed Rashi's definition of holiness, one could be striving to be holy like God is holy, and still be a jerk. For the Ramban, holiness is an ongoing process of self discipline and refinement.

What is Holiness?

2010-04-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

In preparation for my sermon this week for the double portion of Acharei Mot-K'doshim, I have been searching for the meaning of "holiness." K'doshim opens with the command, "The Eternal spoke to Moses saying: Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy, for I, the Eternal your God, am holy" (Lev. 19:1-2). The first place I usually look for quick references is myjewishlearning.com, and there I found a great article by the late Rabbi Louis Jacobs about holiness. He states, "The Hebrew word for “holiness,” kedushah, conveys the twin ideas of separation from and dedication to something and hence holiness as a religious ideal refers to the attitude and state of mind in which certain activities and thoughts are rejected in order to come closer to God." In the article, he mentions three great commentators ideas about what it means to be holy. The three are Rashi, Ramban, and Moshe Hayyim Luzzato.

Rashi's comments on our verses, "You shall be holy. Keep yourselves apart from the forbidden sexual relationships, even from the thought of transgression. Note that wherever sexual limits are mentioned, holiness is also mentioned" (Translation is from "The Commentators' Bible: The JPS Miqra'ot Gedolot" by Michael Carasik). This parashah spends many verses on the sexual sins of the Torah. Rashi is saying that to be holy, one must be very scrupulous about the sexual prohibitions of the Torah. Jacobs writes, "On this reading, holiness is synonymous with obeying the laws of the Torah and has no special connotation of extraordinary cultivation of sanctity."

More on holiness in the next post . . .

The Coal Miners Prayer

2010-04-20T17:23:00.000-07:00

One great thing (among many) about our Classical Reform predecessors is that they had a way with words. Their english liturgy were some of the most moving piyyutim I have ever read. One in particular, often called "The Coal Miners Prayer" I especially like. It was called that by later generations of Reform Jews who said that it didn't speak to contemporary Jews, especially when Gates of Prayer was published in 1975. I think the prayer is very fitting especially with the coal mine disaster of this month in West Virginia. Here is the prayer from Newly Revised Edition of the Union Prayer Book of 1940:

O Lord, Though we are prone to seek favors for ourselves alone, yet when we come into Thy presence, we are lifted above petty thoughts of self. We become ashamed of our littleness and are made to feel that we can worship Thee in holiness only as we serve our brothers in love.

How much we owe to the labors of our brothers! Day by day they idg far away from the sun that we may be warm, enlist in outposts of peril that we may be secure and brave the terrors of the unkonwn for truths that shed light on our way. Numberless gifts and blessings have been laid in our cradles as our birthright.

Let us then, O Lord, be just and great-hearted in our dealings with our fellowmen, sharing with them the fruit of our common labor, acknowledging before Thee that we are but stewards of whatever we possess. Help us to be among those who are willing to sacrifice that others may not hunger, who dare to be bearers of light in the dark lonliness of stricken lives, who struggle and even bleed for the triumph of righteousness among men. So may we be co-workers with Thee in the building of Thy kingdom which has been our vision and goal through the ages.

Confirmation Pride

2010-03-23T15:55:00.000-07:00

Here is a guest post from Laura, one of my amazing confirmation students I mentioned a few posts back:

Sitting on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial with the melodious prayers of the Havdalah service and the gentle playing of the guitar in the warm glow of our candle light, CBI’s Confirmation students came together with other Jewish teens in this beautiful separation from the Sabbath. I could not feel but an overwhelming sense of pride.

I had pride for our Confirmation class who revisited the tragedies displayed in the Washington D.C. Holocaust museum, and then made our voices heard so that congressional representatives understood that we were not going to tolerate injustice. We lobbied our representatives for economic justice, LGBT equality in the workplace, comprehensive immigration reform, reproductive rights, and for a greener America. I was proud to be among my friends, expressing our concerns so that “never again” would the Jewish voice be silenced.

I had pride for Reform Judaism. I was overwhelmed to be part of a religion that incorporates teachings from the Torah with political activism charged with the assurance of the safety of the oppressed. Pride for a religion that teaches acceptance and rejection, accepting those who are different and rejecting conformity and apathy. A religion that is spiritually individual and communal, where we have our own private prayers but there is always a network of support ready to celebrate and grieve as a whole loving unit. Pride for a religion that teaches the importance of knowledge and the importance of questioning, arguing, and disagreeing with the Torah, Rabbis, and other Jews.

On those stairs, all the years of Sunday religious school and Bat Mitzvah training started to make sense. I realized I was part of a community that is capable of being the voice of the silenced and leaders in making the necessary changes in our world today. We are supporters of fair, honest, and tolerant government and religion. I had pride for the Rabbi Michael Namath in charge of the L’Takein trip, expressing his great respect for Thomas Jefferson as a secular leader who upheld a value very important in Reform Judaism, separation of church and state. I am proud to be part of a religious movement that praises God and at the same time rationality and fair government. That night, it just ‘clicked’, from lobbying, to praying, from listening to homeless speakers pleading for change, to immersing in knowledge and vital controversial topics for the entire weekend. For me, at the memorial, I understood that perhaps Judaism is not just about God, the Ten Commandments, and bagels and shmear, but rather a lifestyle that motivates you to work hard, learn as much as you can, treat everyone with respect, favor the oppressed, and advocate for crucial change and protection of rights. That is when the true meaning (for me) of Reform Judaism was revealed, my friends around me with their singing voices giving thanks, and praising for a good week, underneath the colossal statue of President Jefferson, with the gentle playing of the guitar in the warm glow of our candle light.

Vayikra--Beginning the Book of Leviticus

2010-03-19T10:26:00.000-07:00

"The Eternal One spoke to Moses, saying: When a person sins and commits a respass against the Eternal--by dealing deceitfully with another in the matter of a deposit or a pledge, or through robbery, or by defrauding another, or by finding something lost and lying about it; if one swears falsely regarding any one of the various things that someone may do and sin thereby--when one has thus sinned and, realizing guilt, would restore either that which was gotten through robbery or fraud, or the entrusted deposit, or the lost thing that was found, or anything else aobut which one swore falsely, that person shall pay the principal amount and add a fifth part to it. One shall pay it to its owner upon realizing guilt. Then that person shall bring to the priest, as a penalty to the Eternal, a ram without blemish from the flock, or the equivalent, as a reparation offering. The priest shall make expiation before the Eternal on behalf of that person, who shall be forgiven for whatever was done to draw blame thereby" (Lev. 5:20-26).

Much of Sefer Vayikra, the Book of Leviticus, is concerned the ancient Israelite sacrificial system. We learn what kind of animals were used, when to bring your crops, what happens if you can't afford an expensive animal, what you burn first, what you eat, what you do if the sacrifice is to make teshuvah for a sin, etc. The Hebrew word that we translate as "sacrifice" is korban, actually means "something brought near." Sacrificing livestock or a crop was our ancestors' way of experiencing the closeness of God.

Sefer Vayikra sets up a system that is meant to symbolize the world as it should be. As bible scholar Tamara Cohn Eskenazi writes, "Leviticus reflects the perception that God's created world is fundamentally harmonious, good, and orderly (as in Genesis 1). To preserve God's orderly world, where everything has an assigned place, Leviticus specifies what must be done whenever boundaries are wrongfully crossed, be they boundaries of the body, time, or space--such as between sacred and non-sacred, or between life and death. In this book's worldview, anyone who breaks God's ordained harmony can--and must--repair it. Rituals, including sacrifices, serve to cancel or neutralize damage done to the created order and thereby restore the equilibrim."

This brings us back to the quote from the parashah. The last few verses of this week's reading talk about the social and economic order. (Wall Street should probably read the Bible.) Economic sins against each orther are seen as sins against God. The Israelites' camp, a microcosm of the world, is supposed to be just. God demands it, and we are God's agent in carrying it out. God is the the third party in our business dealings.

To those who say that contemporary American Judaism's focus on social justice work as a religious obligation is new, you should study our texts. True, in the past, for Jews social justice was carried out in the Jewish community, but, I think, that is because Jews were generally not integrated into the wider society. But, since modern times, in the Western world where Jews have had greater integration, we have statements about social justice based on Jewish tradition and texts, not just liberal politics. In 1885, a group of Reform rabbis wrote in what came to be called the Pittsburgh Platform, "In full accordance with the spirit of Mosaic legislation, which strives to regulate the relations between rich and poor, we deem it our duty to participate in the great task of modern times, to solve, on the basis of justice and righteousness, the problems presented by the contrasts and evils of the present organization of society." The Reform Movement in America was founded with the idea of text based social justice. Social justice like Sefer Vayikra talks about--creating a harmonious society. Fighting the root causes of injustice, not just giving to the poor to help them out.

A related aside: Glenn Beck is telling his minions to leave their churches if "social justice" is one of their missions.

A Serious Man

2010-03-11T14:51:00.000-08:00

The Coen Brother's "A Serious Man" was my favorite movie this year. (I do admit that I didn't get the chance to see that many movies this year.) Maybe it's my favorite because it is very, very Jewish, and not just Jewish in a kitschy way. It is a serious movie that deals with serious issues of Jewish thought. The other day I read the best commentary on it from the Los Angeles Jewish Journal by Rabbi Anne Brener. Enjoy.

Jewish Teens

2010-03-10T15:32:00.000-08:00

To those who are fearful for the the future of the American Jewish community, you should have spent the weekend with me and my confirmation class. My students never ceased to amaze me with their intellegence, wit, and passion. We travelled to DC together for the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism's L'Taken Seminar. These teens proved that the Jewish obligation to be a champion of social justice still rings true today. Hopefully I can get one of them to guest blog here someday.

P.S. I was more tired after returning to San Diego than I have been in the last few weeks with an infant.

My Thoughts on Exile

2010-02-18T15:03:00.000-08:00

I know that I have been absent for some time. I have been taking time off to be with my new family. Maybe I will write a bit about my experiences of fatherhood so far sometime down the line. But, first, I am going to attempt to answer my question from my last post. Are we Jews still in Exile?

No.  Exile was a condition of degredation. I've taken some flack for saying this before, but I don't see antisemitism as a real threat to American Jews. Sure, there is always some fringe wacko, or stupid kids with stupid pranks in middle school, but if you think about it, we Jews have made it in America. I don't see the gentile population or the government turning against us. (We are disproportionally represented in the government.) 50 years ago, it was hard for Jews to get into Harvard. Today, there has been a Jewish president of Harvard. 50 years ago, gentile fathers would not want their sons or daughters marrying Jews. Today, intermarriage rates are huge. Jews are seen as desiralbe marriage material.  We are at home in America.

But, on the other hand . . .

Yes. I am a Zionist. Something in my heart tells me that I should be living in Israel. As the great Medieval poet and philosopher Yehudah HaLevi writes, "My heart is in the East and I am at the edge of the West." My Zionism says that Israel is the only place were we can create an ideal society as Jews. Sure, in America, I bring my Jewishness with me when I engage in social issues, but Israel is the only society where public transportation is a Jewish question. I often want to be part of that great experience. My Judaism is pushing me to it, but alas, I am quite comfortable here in Exile.

So, on the other hand . . .

No . . . I am not in Exile. I choose to live here in America. I feel my mission right now is to help Jews in San Diego (and at Beth Israel specifically) find meaning through owning their own Judaism. I can easily board the next El-Al flight to Tel Aviv and make aliyah, but I'm not going to.  Doesn't exile imply some sense of coersion? We as Jews have a choice.

So, what do I think. Are we Jews in Exile? I think we are all in Exile, Jews in America and in Israel and anywhere else Jews live. I don't mean Exile as a geographic destination, be an existential situation. I see our mission as Jews is (among other things) to make the world a better place, and that is an infinate task. We should not be comfortable until it is complete, so in a sense, we Jews should never be totally comfortable. We are in Exile from a perfected world.

Exile?

2010-02-03T17:41:00.000-08:00

Tonight at CBI Rabbi Berk is speaking on the Babylonian Exile as an outreach program for the San Diego Opera in preparation for the performance of the opera "Nabucco" that takes place during said exile. We were just discussing in his office the question: Are we Jews still in Exile? I need to think about it for a little. What do you, my loyal readers, think?

One Last Tefillin Post

2010-01-22T12:09:00.000-08:00

The Union for Reform Judaism's great "The Torah: A Women's Commentary" features a great poem about Tefillin in the section for this week's Torah portion, Parashat Bo. The poem is written by Rabbi Elizabeth Tikvah Sarah, a Bristish Liberal rabbi. The Commentary uses this poem as a comment on Exodus 13:9, 16.

Here is the poem:

Meditation for Tefillin

I cannot
bind myself
to You
I can only
unbind myself
continually and
free
Your spirit
within me

So why
this tender-cruel
parody of
bondage
black
leather
straps
skin
gut and
sacred litany of
power and
submission
which binds us
Your slave-people
still?

My own answer is
wound around
with every
taut
binding and
unbinding
blood rushing
heart pounding
life-force surging
              pushing
              panting
              straining
              struggling to
              break through
              to You

While we are on tefillin . . .

2010-01-22T11:51:00.000-08:00

I wrote this piece while I was a rabbinical student.

T’fillin Shel Yisrael (some ramblings on phylacteries)

In Memory of Yisroel ben Yekusiel Yitzhok

“Can a Reform rabbi wrap t’fillin?” my grandpa asked me while we were eating lunch after my college graduation. I had just been accepted to HUC. He never quite got Reform Judaism.

“Sure, a Reform rabbi can wrap t’fillin. It’s just that most probably don’t,” I answered.

“Do you have a set?”

“No.”

“Then take some of the money I’m going to give you for graduation and buy a set of t’fillin.”

“Sure,” I replied without thinking that much. Why shouldn’t I have a set of t’fillin?

My grandpa was an active Orthodox Jew. Not fervent, but active. Shabbat was Shabbat, but if the Cardinals were playing on Saturday, the TV would be on. He walked to shul (in his dialect of Yiddish it was pronounced “sheel”) on Shabbat until he got too old, so then he drove and parked in the parking lot of the strip mall next to the synagogue. To him, Judaism was the traditions like t’fillin. He could understand that the Torah may have been written by humans, but he did not understand why Reform Jews, for the most part, didn’t wrap t’fillin.

As soon as I returned to my parents’ house in St. Louis for the summer after college graduation and before the HUC year in Israel, I went online to research t’fillin. I felt I found a good set for a decent price, and I sent away for it. When they arrived (with a mezuzah scroll thrown in for free) I rushed up to my bedroom to try them out like a child with a new toy. I thought I knew what I was doing because I downloaded instructions from a website. T’fillin were harder than I guessed they would be. Those seven wraps around the arm didn’t seem to want to stay on. When I thought about it, it was weird. Only crazies bind themselves in leather. But, I kept with it and practiced everyday.

I practiced in my room because I was a little embarrassed. I thought my mom, who had left Orthodoxy, would find out. It’s as if I was doing something illicit. She did find out, but she didn’t care. My room became my own little synagogue where I wrapped t’fillin and practiced the prayers.

In Jerusalem I was worried that I would stand out as a t’fillin wrapper, but it turned out that several of my classmates were in the same club. I never asked them why they wrapped. I told myself that I did it because of a challenge from my grandpa. I soon realized that it wasn’t because my grandpa challenged me to wrap t’fillin, but I wrapped because I loved my grandpa. I didn’t have to prove my Judaism to him. If I didn’t wrap t’fillin I could still be a good Jew. I kept wrapping because this was something that was meaningful to my grandpa. Who decided for me that t’fillin couldn’t be meaningful for Reform Jews? Wrapping t’fillin was binding us together.

Yisroel ben Yekusiel Yitzhok (Irvin Alper) died on Hashanah Rabba of 5765. I asked if I could have his t’fillin. He told me once that they were his uncle’s before they were his. He didn’t know who gave them to his uncle. When I took them out of their bag they smelled like Grandpa Irv’s cologne. The knot of the t’fillin shel yad was tied in the Hassidic tradition. Irv wasn’t a Hasid. Maybe his uncle was?

I now wear my grandpa’s t’fillin in my room in my apartment. (I use my internet set at school.) They now smell more like me. Someday I will give them to my grandson or granddaughter (something he probably couldn’t fathom). Maybe the t’fillin will bind them to me, Yekutiel Yitzhak, as they bound me to Yisrael ben Yekusiel Yitzhok.

More on the the tefillin threat

2010-01-22T11:48:00.000-08:00

Here is the Philadelphia Police's statement. I'm not quite sure what "olfactories" are.

Have Tefillin Will Travel

2010-01-21T15:26:00.000-08:00

I got a kick out of this story. Apparently, a plane was diverted this morning because some passengers thought that a teenager donning tefillin on the plane was strapping himself with bombs. Now, I shouldn't make fun of serious security issues, but come on.

Avatar and Judaism

2010-01-14T13:16:00.000-08:00

While I have yet to see the movie, here and here are interesting takes on it by one of my favorite contemporary Jewish writers, Jay Michaelson. Maybe when I see the movie, I can comment more.

Eitan Noam Elster-Satz

2010-01-07T11:48:00.000-08:00

I am now back from my parental leave (but I will be taking some other days here and there), and it's time to get back to the blog. People have been asking about my son's name, so here it is: Eitan Noam Elster-Satz. There was a rumor going around that his name was "Darchei Noam" ("Darchei" cannot be a proper name according to the rules of Hebrew grammer), but of course I was thinking of his name when I named the blog. Eitan (from where the English "Ethan" comes) means strength, and Noam means pleasantness. Everything with Eitan is going well. Who knew one could function on so little sleep?

Our Baby has Arrived

2009-12-18T13:24:00.000-08:00

Last night at 8:55 pm we were blessed with our baby boy. He weighs 8 lbs. 5 oz. and is 21 inches tall. Everyone is doing great. No name yet. Bris to follow next Friday.

Maccabees: Liberators or Zealots?

2009-12-16T16:08:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot about the history of Hanukkah lately and how different Jews during different time periods have interpreted the story differently for their own situation. The Rabbis, weary of earthly kings, chose to focus attention on God's miracles rather than the Hasmonean's battles and susequent rule. American Jews found self validation in the theme of religious freedom. The Zionists saw the Maccabees fighting for Jewish self determination in their homeland. I will now join in this great chain of Torah (and I hope you all do too) and add my take.

We usually see Mattathias, the father of the Maccabees, and his sons as the great freedom fighters who fought against the Greek oppression of Judaism, but as the historian Elias Bickerman writes about them, "They made a stealthy and roundabout entrance into the villages and summoned together those eager to fight. The force moved from place to place destroying the idolatrous altars where they found them, compelling the observance of Torah by force. For example, they circumcised newborn infants, and killed apostate violators of the law. Thus, as their historian relates, they liberated the Torah form the hand of the heathen." It was the Jews who Mattathias and his sons fought against. Sure, as a rabbi I feel Jews should be practicing Judaism and not Greek paganism (or some sort of hybrid), but why did Mattathias get to define Judaism? Is Torah by the sword true Torah? Was Mattathias fighting assimilation or was he a religious fanatic, a zealot, an ancient Jewish Taliban? (I hate to make these historical comparisons, but it makes my rhetorical point, so please forgive me.)

This week, as we celebrate our people's war against oppression that happened over 2000 years ago, I can't help to think about religious coercion and fanaticism in Israel today. A woman was getting arrested for wearing a tallit at the Kotel. (Here is great commentary from the "criminal" and one here by one of my teachers.) Buses are becoming segregated between men and women. Conversions are being revoked. This is all because the state of Israel recognizes one way to be a religious Jew and gives religious authority to an increasingly fanatical group of rabbis. But, there is light (it is Hanukkah after all), the Israel Religious Action Center (an arm of the Israel Movement for Progressive Judaism) is fighting for religious freedom in Israel. We need to suport them and other groups like them as they show Israelis that there is more than one way to be a Jew. For Israel to be a light to the nations, we need to help make it a society were people are free from religious zealots.

Name that Blog

2009-12-09T11:12:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking for days about what I am going to be naming this blog--trying to come up with clever puns (if puns are ever clever) or inspiring statements (without sounding too full of myself). I have finally decided on "Darchei Noam." It is a phrase that comes from Sefer Mishlei (the Book of Proverbs) chapter 3 verse 17: "Its ways are ways of pleasantness (Darchei Noam in Hebrew), and all its paths are peace." The following verse reads, "It is a tree of life to those who grasp it, and all who cling to it find happiness." Our liturgy uses these two verses in reverse order as we return the Torah to the ark. In this context, we are to understand the Tree of Life to be Torah. Commentator Joel Rosenberg in the Reconstructionist prayer book Kol Haneshamah writes about this, "At the end of the Garden story, Adam and Eve are forbidden access to the mysterious Tree of Life, whose fruit confers immortality. Yet over the generations to follow, humankind itself becomes a Tree of Life. The Torah is handed on from one generation to another, binding the generations in a commonwealth of time and conferring the norms on which the survival of civilization depends. Thus the Torah is compared to the Tree of Life." Chief Rabbi of the UK Jonathan Sacks adds in his excellent commentary on the siddur, ". . . the Torah is our intimation of eternity in the midst of time. Immortality is a matter not of how long we live, but of how we live."

I hope this blog will add to our notions of Torah, and therefore will lead you to darchei noam, ways of pleasantness.

Yossele or My Favorite Piece of Jewish Music

2009-12-01T13:13:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about what the term "Jewish Music" means. Is it only liturgical pieces, or in a Jewish languague like Hebrew? Does Jewish music convey a certain mood? Does it simply have to be written or performed by Jews? Is Bob Dylan singing "Here Comes Santa Claus" Jewish? I think Jewish music has elements of all of these questions. To paraphrase Potter Stewart, I know it when I hear it. And this brings me to my favorite piece of Jewish music, Shir Hamaalos" sung by one of the most famous cantors of all time, Yosef (Yossele) Rosenblatt. Most people assume the tune was written by him beacuse it is so associated with him, but it was actually written by a cantor named Pinchas Minkowsky. The text is Psalm 126, one of the "Songs of Ascent" that was sung as the pilgrims to the Temple in Jerusalem climbed the steps onto the Mount. It is a song of longing and hope, and you can feel this is Rosenblatt's redition. You want to stand tall and cry at the same time. Maybe that is why it was considered in the short list to be Israel's national anthem. "Hatikvah," of course, won out, but I think this tune would have been a great choice. It is a great piece of Jewish music because I think it encapsulates much of Jewish thought and history. It has a biblical text that is used liturgically. It is about exile and yearning for the Promised Land. The music is a great mix of Western and Eastern, and the tune was written by a Jew (which one cannot definately claim with "Hatikvah"). You would probably like to hear it by now. I don't know what is up with the video. Just listen to the music.

If this doesn't move you . . . I guess you can disagree with me, but this does it to me everytime. For all those "Hatikvah" fans, here is my favorite version. Some complain that "Hatikvah" is too Ashkenazi, but here is a great Mizrahi version. Enjoy.

Shalom l'kulam

2009-12-01T10:07:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my new blog. I hope to fill it with enlightening ideas about Judaism that will transform your life . . . or, more realistically, it will be filled with whatever is going on in my head that I think is interesting. Hopefully, other people out in the blogosphere will also find it interesting. If you do, then this blog can start a great conversation about Jewish life and ideas, so please add your comments. Great Jewish learning is a conversation, not a monologue.