Vaetchanan
This week’s Torah portion, Vaetchanan, contains one of our most well-known prayers, the Shema and V’Ahavta. “Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.” (Deuteronomy 6:4)
We recite this prayer every time we gather as a community, but have we ever paused to think about its meaning and ponder its words. What does it mean to love God? Moreover, how does one love God? Love can be challenging and difficult. This is why there are so many songs and poems about love, especially about losing love. The ancient rabbis recognized this difficulty. So let’s turn to some of our tradition’s commentaries and look to the wisdom of our predecessors.
The Sefat Emet, a great Hasidic master, teaches that everyone wants to love God, but distractions and obstacles always get in the way. By performing mitzvot, he taught, we remove these obstacles and distractions and let our souls fulfill their natural inclination of loving God.
The Midrash, on the other hand, notices that there are only three mitzvot that command love. We are commanded to love the neighbor. We are commanded to love the stranger. These commandments are given in the Book of Leviticus. We are commanded to love God later, in the Book of Deuteronomy. The Midrash comments: this teaches that we learn to love God by practicing love of God’s creatures, by loving our fellow human beings.
In these commentaries we find opposing views. The Sefat Emet suggests that love of God is natural, but life unfortunately gets in the way. Get rid of the clutter and we will naturally love God. The Midrash suggests that we must first love life and only then can we love God. By loving human beings we will learn to love God.
Which commentary do you prefer? Do you side with the Midrash or Sefat Emet? Would you write another commentary? How else might we learn to love God?
We recite this prayer every time we gather as a community, but have we ever paused to think about its meaning and ponder its words. What does it mean to love God? Moreover, how does one love God? Love can be challenging and difficult. This is why there are so many songs and poems about love, especially about losing love. The ancient rabbis recognized this difficulty. So let’s turn to some of our tradition’s commentaries and look to the wisdom of our predecessors.
The Sefat Emet, a great Hasidic master, teaches that everyone wants to love God, but distractions and obstacles always get in the way. By performing mitzvot, he taught, we remove these obstacles and distractions and let our souls fulfill their natural inclination of loving God.
The Midrash, on the other hand, notices that there are only three mitzvot that command love. We are commanded to love the neighbor. We are commanded to love the stranger. These commandments are given in the Book of Leviticus. We are commanded to love God later, in the Book of Deuteronomy. The Midrash comments: this teaches that we learn to love God by practicing love of God’s creatures, by loving our fellow human beings.
In these commentaries we find opposing views. The Sefat Emet suggests that love of God is natural, but life unfortunately gets in the way. Get rid of the clutter and we will naturally love God. The Midrash suggests that we must first love life and only then can we love God. By loving human beings we will learn to love God.
Which commentary do you prefer? Do you side with the Midrash or Sefat Emet? Would you write another commentary? How else might we learn to love God?
A Call for State-Sanctioned Religious Tolerance
A Call for State-Sanctioned Religious Tolerance
More on the Conversion Bill and the arrest of Anat Hoffman at the Western Wall by Rabbi David Ellenson, president of the Reform seminary, Hebrew Union College. He concludes:
More on the Conversion Bill and the arrest of Anat Hoffman at the Western Wall by Rabbi David Ellenson, president of the Reform seminary, Hebrew Union College. He concludes:
For Jews in both the Diaspora and in Israel who are committed to Israel as both a democratic and a Jewish state, these episodes call into question whether the state itself actually possesses those commitments. The impediments and restrictions placed before non-Orthodox expressions of Judaism by the Israeli government are matters of serious concern because they reveal that the State employs coercion and imposes a limited range of acceptable practices on Jews who have diverse conceptions of Jewish religious authenticity.
This struggle for Jewish religious freedom is a principled fight for justice that expects the state to be impartial in defining authentic religious Judaism. It is high time that the legitimacy and authority of different branches of religious Judaism be affirmed in Israel. This will surely enhance and strengthen the commitment significant numbers of American Jews feel towards the Jewish state.
Rabbis for Israel Mission Statement
Mission Statement
This is worth signing! The statement says in part: "We, the undersigned, believe that Israel has a legitimate right to exist as a sovereign, democratic Jewish state in the historic homeland of the Jewish people. We support a peaceful and just resolution to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict that will recognize two independent states, a Jewish state of Israel and a Palestinian state, living side by side in peace, security and prosperity. We call upon the Arab and Muslim world to accept unequivocally and publicly Israel’s permanent right to exist in peace." Amen.
This is worth signing! The statement says in part: "We, the undersigned, believe that Israel has a legitimate right to exist as a sovereign, democratic Jewish state in the historic homeland of the Jewish people. We support a peaceful and just resolution to the Israeli/Palestinian conflict that will recognize two independent states, a Jewish state of Israel and a Palestinian state, living side by side in peace, security and prosperity. We call upon the Arab and Muslim world to accept unequivocally and publicly Israel’s permanent right to exist in peace." Amen.
Creating Sabbath Peace in a Beeping World
Creating Sabbath Peace in a Beeping World - NYTimes.com
Great article about creating a sense of Shabbat in the modern world. Here is one quote to tantalize: "'The second you write down the rules, it doesn't work for me,' Reuben Namdar said. He believes that the Sabbath of everyday Jews, rather than the Sabbath of the disputers and the thinkers, was never as strenuous or elaborately thought-through as the Orthodox Sabbath is today: 'You ate well, you slept well, you had sex, you were in a special state of mind, you did not chastise the kids. It was organic.'"
Great article about creating a sense of Shabbat in the modern world. Here is one quote to tantalize: "'The second you write down the rules, it doesn't work for me,' Reuben Namdar said. He believes that the Sabbath of everyday Jews, rather than the Sabbath of the disputers and the thinkers, was never as strenuous or elaborately thought-through as the Orthodox Sabbath is today: 'You ate well, you slept well, you had sex, you were in a special state of mind, you did not chastise the kids. It was organic.'"
Tisha B'Av 2010
Tisha B'Av 2010 - Why Mourning AND Recovery are Sacred
I appreciate Brad Hirschfield's take on the video of a survivor dancing at a concentration camp to the tune of "I Will Survive." (You can find the video at the below link.) Rabbi Hirschfield writes:
I appreciate Brad Hirschfield's take on the video of a survivor dancing at a concentration camp to the tune of "I Will Survive." (You can find the video at the below link.) Rabbi Hirschfield writes:
In that spirit, I found this video of Holocaust survivor Adolk Korman dancing with his family in the very places where he was victimized 65 years ago to be truly beautiful. I appreciate that others may find sacrilegious what I find to be sacred, but how different is that than those early rabbis who were busy creating Judaism 65 years after the collapse of the Temple in Jerusalem? Like Mr. Korman and his family, they chose to celebrate life even in those places where they had suffered. Like Mr. Korman and his family, they sang and danced in the shadow of those places where they had seen their loved ones perish and their spiritual center burned. I am sure that then as now, some people felt that such behavior was tasteless, inappropriate, disrespectful, insensitive, etc. But were it not for people whose love of life triumphs over their sadness in the face of past death, we would never create a future. We need not forget the past in order to move beyond it. And that is a truth which Adolk Korman, his film-maker daughter and the sages of the Talmud all appreciated. I am grateful to them all.His point is well taken. The ability to dance and celebrate, despite tragedy and near destruction, is what has enabled the Jewish people to survive. I hesitate to criticize a survivor, yet it seems to me that it does matter where you dance (and perhaps even when). A concentration camp can only be a cemetery. I think I would only be able to cry there. I am thankful that Adolk Korman has survived and found the courage to sing and dance. And so given that he is a survivor he can dance wherever he wants. Like him I am not much for mourning, even on this day of Tisha B'Av. I see not destruction and past tragedies but only celebration and dancing. That is the only mindset that will carry us forward.
Devarim
Franz Rosenzweig, the great 20th century Jewish philosopher, argued against Zionism believing that sovereignty would inevitably corrupt morality.
Recently The New York Times’ Nicholas Kristof has offered numerous op-eds about Israel and in particular its treatment of Palestinians in the West Bank.
And this week’s Torah portion, Devarim, reiterates God’s promise to the Jewish people of the land of Israel: “See, I place the land at your disposal. Go, take possession of the land that the Lord swore to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to assign to them and to their heirs after them.” (Deuteronomy 1:8)
I have spent the past two weeks studying Zionism and Israel and exploring the complexities of life here in the land of Israel, examining for example the morality of war and the difficulties of fighting terrorism. These are no easy topics and the sessions have been both enlightening and at times disturbing.
On Monday, I traveled with Friends of the Earth Middle East to the Jerusalem suburb of Tzur Hadassah. There we walked along the Green Line, the 1967 border and peered over this imaginary line at the West Bank and the settlement of Beitar Illit and the Arab village of Wadi Fukin. Beitar Illit is a settlement situated on the opposite hills from where we stood. It is an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood. Since its founding in 1990 it has grown to some 40,000 people. It is expected to grow to 100,000 by 2020. Below the settlement in the valley is the Arab village of Wadi Fukin, home to 1,200 people. In Wadi Fukin the residents primarily make their living farming the land. In Beitar Illit the majority sustain themselves through Torah study and government subsidies. We were saddened to learn that the sewage from Beitar Illit often runs down the hillside poisoning the farm lands below.
Friends of the Earth brings together Israelis, Palestinians and Jordanians to tackle such environmental problems in the hopes of making peace through mutual care of the land. In this small pocket of the land of Israel they have made some strides in addressing the problems of Beitar Illit’s sewage and Wadi Fukin’s farm lands. I have some concerns about the group and in particular the ideology of the Arab members who I met, yet I admire their efforts.
I believe wholeheartedly in the Zionist enterprise. I believe as well that it is possible to live as a sovereign Jewish state according to the highest moral values. I am saddened when I discover such instances where basic human decency is tossed aside in favor of settling the land. The land is certainly holy and our return to it gives the Jewish people hope, but this must not take precedence over the humanity of those who also live in this land. Jewish sovereignty cannot only be about our rights and our privileges. If this is to be a Jewish state, it must first be about this, but if this is also to be a democratic state, it must not only be about this.
It is such questions that I have spent my weeks here debating. I have also learned that it is easier to debate such issues here rather than at home outside the Jewish state. Israel has its problems just as the United States has its problems. Israel however also faces unique questions. Only about this country do people question its very legitimacy and ask, “Is it wise to grant sovereignty to the Jewish people?” My answer is of course a resounding yes.
It is harder to speak about Israel’s flaws outside of the country. I am far more comfortable debating them when here. There, at home in the United States, we feel uneasy and perhaps even disloyal debating such issues. We feel we must defend Israel against its attackers because underlying these attacks lies this question of Israel’s legitimacy. But here sovereignty is assured and accepted.
As you walk the streets and drink coffee in the cafes the question seems silly and preposterous. And so the debate about values and morality is what animates this place. The argument with ourselves and with Franz Rosenzweig is a daily struggle that I admire and relish. It is what gives life to this land. It is this struggle that gives meaning to God’s promise.
Recently The New York Times’ Nicholas Kristof has offered numerous op-eds about Israel and in particular its treatment of Palestinians in the West Bank.
And this week’s Torah portion, Devarim, reiterates God’s promise to the Jewish people of the land of Israel: “See, I place the land at your disposal. Go, take possession of the land that the Lord swore to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, to assign to them and to their heirs after them.” (Deuteronomy 1:8)
I have spent the past two weeks studying Zionism and Israel and exploring the complexities of life here in the land of Israel, examining for example the morality of war and the difficulties of fighting terrorism. These are no easy topics and the sessions have been both enlightening and at times disturbing.
On Monday, I traveled with Friends of the Earth Middle East to the Jerusalem suburb of Tzur Hadassah. There we walked along the Green Line, the 1967 border and peered over this imaginary line at the West Bank and the settlement of Beitar Illit and the Arab village of Wadi Fukin. Beitar Illit is a settlement situated on the opposite hills from where we stood. It is an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood. Since its founding in 1990 it has grown to some 40,000 people. It is expected to grow to 100,000 by 2020. Below the settlement in the valley is the Arab village of Wadi Fukin, home to 1,200 people. In Wadi Fukin the residents primarily make their living farming the land. In Beitar Illit the majority sustain themselves through Torah study and government subsidies. We were saddened to learn that the sewage from Beitar Illit often runs down the hillside poisoning the farm lands below.
Friends of the Earth brings together Israelis, Palestinians and Jordanians to tackle such environmental problems in the hopes of making peace through mutual care of the land. In this small pocket of the land of Israel they have made some strides in addressing the problems of Beitar Illit’s sewage and Wadi Fukin’s farm lands. I have some concerns about the group and in particular the ideology of the Arab members who I met, yet I admire their efforts.
I believe wholeheartedly in the Zionist enterprise. I believe as well that it is possible to live as a sovereign Jewish state according to the highest moral values. I am saddened when I discover such instances where basic human decency is tossed aside in favor of settling the land. The land is certainly holy and our return to it gives the Jewish people hope, but this must not take precedence over the humanity of those who also live in this land. Jewish sovereignty cannot only be about our rights and our privileges. If this is to be a Jewish state, it must first be about this, but if this is also to be a democratic state, it must not only be about this.
It is such questions that I have spent my weeks here debating. I have also learned that it is easier to debate such issues here rather than at home outside the Jewish state. Israel has its problems just as the United States has its problems. Israel however also faces unique questions. Only about this country do people question its very legitimacy and ask, “Is it wise to grant sovereignty to the Jewish people?” My answer is of course a resounding yes.
It is harder to speak about Israel’s flaws outside of the country. I am far more comfortable debating them when here. There, at home in the United States, we feel uneasy and perhaps even disloyal debating such issues. We feel we must defend Israel against its attackers because underlying these attacks lies this question of Israel’s legitimacy. But here sovereignty is assured and accepted.
As you walk the streets and drink coffee in the cafes the question seems silly and preposterous. And so the debate about values and morality is what animates this place. The argument with ourselves and with Franz Rosenzweig is a daily struggle that I admire and relish. It is what gives life to this land. It is this struggle that gives meaning to God’s promise.
Graduation Ceremony
Follow this link to read more about my graduation ceremony. The occasion marked the conclusion of three years of study at the Shalom Hartman Institute. I was named a Senior Rabbinic Fellow of the Institute.
Jerusalem Film Festival
On Thursday evening I again attended the opening of the Jerusalem Film Festival. It is one of my favorite summer activities here in Jerusalem. This year a French film, "La Rafle--The Round Up" opened the festival. The film stars Jean Reno who was present to open the festival. David Broza, the Israeli folk singer, also appeared to open the event with a few songs. The movie tells the story of the round up of Parisian Jews during the summer of 1942, through the lens of a few families and in particular their children. The film is not an extraordinary work of art, but the film and experience were extraordinary nonetheless. This French Jewish film shows the active participation of French leaders and officials in the Nazi genocide. It accurately portrays them as active decision makers, not forced accomplices. It is most important that this have the widest viewing in France. Even more remarkable was the experience of watching this film in Sultan's Pool, the ancient, outdoor amphitheater outside the Old City's walls. Along with hundreds of Israelis I watched this movie. Nearly everyone wanted to scream, "How could these French Jews not realize what was about to happen?" We cried together (for almost all of the concluding thirty minutes) and then left the theater in near silence. With hundreds of fellow Jews I watched this film in a sovereign Jewish state! Amen!
Pictures from Israel
Enjoy the slideshow! It contains pictures from a few of the sites I visited while in Israel.
Mattot-Masei
Thoughts of war and reports of conflict preceded my arrival to Jerusalem. I however found none. I discovered only a city intoxicated with life.
This week’s Torah portion describes Israel’s war with the Midianites. It is an ugly affair. Moses instructs his commanders to spare no one. “Moses became angry with the commanders and said, ‘You have spared every female! Yet they are very ones who induced the Israelites to trespass against the Lord...’” (Numbers 31)
Today in Israel the papers reported a different approach to waging war. They reported that Israel would prosecute a soldier for manslaughter in the Cast Lead operation of January 2009. The staff sergeant is accused of shooting and killing a Palestinian woman. The army’s advocate general has investigated 30 similar cases.
Most Israelis appear proud that their country seeks to live by the highest moral standards, even when waging a conflict with terrorist organizations who refuse to follow accepted rules of war. The Torah’s approach to the Midianites is not modern Israel’s approach to its enemies. The dilemma in fighting terrorism is that it purposely makes every citizen into a combatant. It intentionally blurs the distinction between soldier and civilian when for example firing missiles from a school playground or when hiding its commanders in a hospital.
In bringing this case Israel argues that its soldiers must see beyond this intended obfuscation and see the distinction between combatant and civilian brightly and clearly. This is in part how Israel rises above conflict and war. There are those who argue that the Middle East is a rough neighborhood and that Israel will only succeed when it fights as Moses appears to advocate, with ferocity and vengeance. There are those who see in the Torah’s words license to kill all our enemies so that we might one day live in peace and security.
I spent this week debating such moral questions. We argued whether for example, the woman who feeds a homicide bomber deserves the same judgment as the bomber, whether she is the same as an army’s cook. Israel operates as if she is different. While Obama and Netanyahu debate peace talks, Israel continues to negotiate this difficult moral equation. How does one fight terrorism while preserving our Jewish values and morals?
Our morality must be our guiding force. It is what gives life meaning. It is what animates this city. It is what gives life to the city of Jerusalem.
In the United States we see only the conflict, we read only of the possibility of war. We see only the images of battle. We see only the pictures of ongoing conflict. In Israel the questions and complexities of this struggle is what gives life to this city. It is part of what brings me back to this place year in and year out.
This week’s Torah portion describes Israel’s war with the Midianites. It is an ugly affair. Moses instructs his commanders to spare no one. “Moses became angry with the commanders and said, ‘You have spared every female! Yet they are very ones who induced the Israelites to trespass against the Lord...’” (Numbers 31)
Today in Israel the papers reported a different approach to waging war. They reported that Israel would prosecute a soldier for manslaughter in the Cast Lead operation of January 2009. The staff sergeant is accused of shooting and killing a Palestinian woman. The army’s advocate general has investigated 30 similar cases.
Most Israelis appear proud that their country seeks to live by the highest moral standards, even when waging a conflict with terrorist organizations who refuse to follow accepted rules of war. The Torah’s approach to the Midianites is not modern Israel’s approach to its enemies. The dilemma in fighting terrorism is that it purposely makes every citizen into a combatant. It intentionally blurs the distinction between soldier and civilian when for example firing missiles from a school playground or when hiding its commanders in a hospital.
In bringing this case Israel argues that its soldiers must see beyond this intended obfuscation and see the distinction between combatant and civilian brightly and clearly. This is in part how Israel rises above conflict and war. There are those who argue that the Middle East is a rough neighborhood and that Israel will only succeed when it fights as Moses appears to advocate, with ferocity and vengeance. There are those who see in the Torah’s words license to kill all our enemies so that we might one day live in peace and security.
I spent this week debating such moral questions. We argued whether for example, the woman who feeds a homicide bomber deserves the same judgment as the bomber, whether she is the same as an army’s cook. Israel operates as if she is different. While Obama and Netanyahu debate peace talks, Israel continues to negotiate this difficult moral equation. How does one fight terrorism while preserving our Jewish values and morals?
Our morality must be our guiding force. It is what gives life meaning. It is what animates this city. It is what gives life to the city of Jerusalem.
In the United States we see only the conflict, we read only of the possibility of war. We see only the images of battle. We see only the pictures of ongoing conflict. In Israel the questions and complexities of this struggle is what gives life to this city. It is part of what brings me back to this place year in and year out.
Pinhas
What is the worst sin? According to the Bible and Talmud it is the sin of idolatry. Why? If you start bowing down to idols you will end up attaching too much importance to things rather than family, friends and people. Such is the logic behind the story of Pinhas.
The Torah relates the following story. The people are gathered on the banks of the Jordan river, poised to enter the land of Israel. They have become intoxicated with the religion of the Midianites, sacrificing to their god, Baal-Peor. They participate in its orgiastic festivals. Moses tries to get them to stop, issuing laws forbidding such foreign practices, but the people refuse to listen. God becomes enraged. "Just then one of the Israelites came and brought a Midianite woman over to his companions... When Pinhas saw this he left the assembly and taking a spear in his hand he followed the Israelite into the chamber and stabbed both of them, the Israelite and the woman, through the belly." (Numbers 25)
The Torah relates the following story. The people are gathered on the banks of the Jordan river, poised to enter the land of Israel. They have become intoxicated with the religion of the Midianites, sacrificing to their god, Baal-Peor. They participate in its orgiastic festivals. Moses tries to get them to stop, issuing laws forbidding such foreign practices, but the people refuse to listen. God becomes enraged. "Just then one of the Israelites came and brought a Midianite woman over to his companions... When Pinhas saw this he left the assembly and taking a spear in his hand he followed the Israelite into the chamber and stabbed both of them, the Israelite and the woman, through the belly." (Numbers 25)
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, "Pinhas has turned back My wrath from the Israelites by displaying among them his passion for Me, so that I do not wipe out the Israelite people in My passion." (Numbers 25) Pinhas's passion quells God's passion. Pinhas renews the covenant between God and the people. The lesson is clear: idolatry is a dangerous thing and must be prevented at all costs. Pinhas takes matters into his own hands in order to stamp out this danger. If not for Pinhas taking his spear in his hand the people would not merit entering the land. In the Bible's estimation idolatry defiles the land as well as the people.
This exemplifies the approach to idolatry found in the Bible. If nothing else works, smash the idols and kill the idolaters! The rabbinic approach on the other hand, is thankfully less violent, but nonetheless equally zealous. The rabbis forbid the food and wine of idolaters. They forbid their bathhouses and temples. While they share the ideology of the Bible they refuse to condone its methodology. The Talmud states: "The deed of Pinhas was not approved of by Moses, nor by the elders. Rabbi Elazar added: 'If not for God, Pinhas would have been excommunicated!' As Rabbi Hisda taught: 'If the zealot comes to seek counsel, we are never to instruct him to act.'" (Sanhedrin 81b)
Often the rabbis suggest an alternative approach in their Haftarah selection. The reading from the prophets is occasionally used as a counterweight to the Torah reading. The Haftarah assigned to Pinhas is about Elijah. (For those synagogues who observe the Three Weeks the Haftarah shifts to Jeremiah and does not coincide with the Torah reading.) The prophet Elijah, like Pinhas, has a violent temper and deals with non-believers with a similar heavy hand. He kills hundreds of idolaters and worshipers of Baal. But this story concludes with a beautiful estimation of where we might find God. It is not in a thunderous voice (and actions) but in the still, small voice. "There was a great and mighty wind, splitting mountains and shattering rocks, but the Lord was not in the wind... After the earthquake--fire; but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire, a soft murmuring sound." (I Kings 19)
The rabbis therefore offer an antidote to Pinhas's actions. They suggest by this Haftarah selection that God is found in the small details, in those difficult to discern. They suggest that we must strain to find God's voice. It is not found in violence or even lofty pronouncements The rabbis take full advantage of the many voices found in the Bible. Taken together the Torah and Haftarah argue against each other. This week the rabbis suggest that God does not want us to take our spears in hand and violently overthrow idolatry. They urge us instead to do so in our hearts.
That is the lesson in reading Elijah with Pinhas. That is the purpose of reading the Haftarah with the Torah.
Camp, Then and Now
Camp, Then and Now
"For many of us, sleepaway camp is the first sizeable chunk of time away from parents. It’s a taste of adulthood. Nikayon, daily cleaning time, was the first time I really scrubbed a sink or swept an entire floor. Because camp means building a society in miniature, in which kids have more independence and power than they do back home, friendships there seem more vivid, more intense–a lifetime poured into a concentrated month or two." Unlike the author, Marjorie Ingall, I, on the other hand, just sent my son off to camp for his final summer as a camper. I love the independence, self-esteem and Jewish identity sleep away camp builds. It is irreplaceable in terms of building character!
"For many of us, sleepaway camp is the first sizeable chunk of time away from parents. It’s a taste of adulthood. Nikayon, daily cleaning time, was the first time I really scrubbed a sink or swept an entire floor. Because camp means building a society in miniature, in which kids have more independence and power than they do back home, friendships there seem more vivid, more intense–a lifetime poured into a concentrated month or two." Unlike the author, Marjorie Ingall, I, on the other hand, just sent my son off to camp for his final summer as a camper. I love the independence, self-esteem and Jewish identity sleep away camp builds. It is irreplaceable in terms of building character!
Balak Sermon
Our Torah portion gives us the Mah Tovu prayer, a prayer of unrivaled majesty and beauty, but one nonetheless authored by non-Jewish hands. Let us take a few moments to explore the implications of its origins.
All of us have favorite poets and singers. I love Derek Walcott as well as Yehuda Amichai. I love Taj Mahal as well as David Broza. What makes them our favorites? It is that they speak to our hearts. It is that they mirror our feelings and aspirations. Does it matter whether the singer or poet is Jewish?
There are those who see outside influences as forbidden. One need only recall the recent protests in Jerusalem. There the Supreme Court is taboo. There Sephardic customs are forbidden to Ashkenazi Jews. In a bitter irony of modern Zionism, there are those in Jerusalem who wish to live in a ghetto of their own making.
Such is not my world! Yet I am still plagued by the question, what is the influence of non-Jewish poems and prayers on our Jewish hearts? Should we decry their voices or welcome their insights?
If I take too much of the outside world do I lose my Jewish identity? Can a Jew embrace yoga? Should a Jew embrace an exercise stemming from another religious tradition? Where do we draw the line? If all our prayers were recited in English would we not feel comfortable? If all not authored by Jewish hands do we then lose our connection to the Jewish people? Does Jewish authorship guarantee Jewish aspirations? Can Walcott capture my spirit as well as Amichai?
We live in two worlds. We need to live in both worlds, with a foot in the Jewish world and a foot in the non-Jewish world. If praying is also about seeking truth then believing that one language or one people has cornered this truth is not only troubling but contrary to the effort.
The most remarkable point about Mah Tovu opening our prayers is the implied admission that no one has a cornerstone on approaching God. We are all just stumbling and grappling to express our feelings just as Bilaam stumbled from cursing to blessing. Every prayer, every poem is only an attempt.
All of us have favorite poets and singers. I love Derek Walcott as well as Yehuda Amichai. I love Taj Mahal as well as David Broza. What makes them our favorites? It is that they speak to our hearts. It is that they mirror our feelings and aspirations. Does it matter whether the singer or poet is Jewish?
There are those who see outside influences as forbidden. One need only recall the recent protests in Jerusalem. There the Supreme Court is taboo. There Sephardic customs are forbidden to Ashkenazi Jews. In a bitter irony of modern Zionism, there are those in Jerusalem who wish to live in a ghetto of their own making.
Such is not my world! Yet I am still plagued by the question, what is the influence of non-Jewish poems and prayers on our Jewish hearts? Should we decry their voices or welcome their insights?
If I take too much of the outside world do I lose my Jewish identity? Can a Jew embrace yoga? Should a Jew embrace an exercise stemming from another religious tradition? Where do we draw the line? If all our prayers were recited in English would we not feel comfortable? If all not authored by Jewish hands do we then lose our connection to the Jewish people? Does Jewish authorship guarantee Jewish aspirations? Can Walcott capture my spirit as well as Amichai?
We live in two worlds. We need to live in both worlds, with a foot in the Jewish world and a foot in the non-Jewish world. If praying is also about seeking truth then believing that one language or one people has cornered this truth is not only troubling but contrary to the effort.
The most remarkable point about Mah Tovu opening our prayers is the implied admission that no one has a cornerstone on approaching God. We are all just stumbling and grappling to express our feelings just as Bilaam stumbled from cursing to blessing. Every prayer, every poem is only an attempt.
Balak
In this week’s Torah portion, Balak, we read of the origins of the beautiful Mah Tovu prayer. Here is the story. Balak, the king of Israel’s enemy, the Moabites, becomes alarmed at Israel’s military victory over the neighboring Amorites. So the king instructs his prophet Balaam to place a curse on the Israelites.
Rather than cursing his enemy, Balaam blesses the Israelites. He offers several moving tributes about the people of Israel. It is here that he offers the words of the familiar Mah Tovu prayer that opens the morning service: “How fair are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel!” (Numbers 24)
A beautiful poem to be sure, but one authored by a non-Jewish, idolatrous prophet. His blessing opens our prayerbook. Every other prayer in our siddur is authored by Jewish hands. Yet we open with the words of someone from outside the tradition. Have you ever thought of what this might mean? Have you ever thought of the significance of this opening to our great compendium of prayers and strivings for God?
There are those who dismiss its origins and say, “It is an exception. The rule is Jewish prayers are written by Jewish hands. Balaam only reinforces the point.” But what if the Mah Tovu prayer is suggesting that we can find truth outside of our tradition, that we can discover spiritual yearnings in the non-Jewish world?
Don’t get me wrong. I love our Jewish prayers. Nothing really comes as close to expressing my views when I awake each morning than the Elohai Neshama prayer: “As long as this soul is within me I will give thanks to You, Adonai my God…” Then again perhaps sometimes we can also find meaning from outside of our people. Sometimes as well, like Balaam, the outsider can help us see the best in ourselves and help us express our devotion to God.
My favorite poets not only include the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, but also Denise Levertov, Emily Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins, a 19th century Jesuit priest. His writing reflects the majesty of the Bible’s psalms: “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil…”
There are those who believe that truth and pathways to God can only be found from those who are like them, from those who think and act as they do. Last week we read of ultra-Orthodox Ashkenazi Jews who do not want their children even to pray and learn with ultra-Orthodox Sephardic Jews. This is the most extreme example of shutting the outside world out. This is not how truth is discovered. This is not how truth is revealed.
How are you going to learn or grow if you only talk to those who are like yourself? How are you going to better pray to God if you never listen to the prayers and poetry of others? Can we find inspiration from outside of our tradition as well as from inside? How many in our congregation for example practice yoga? Is yoga merely exercise or is there a spiritual component to this practice as well, a component deriving from Eastern religious traditions?
Our prayerbook opens with the words “How fair are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel!” and with this blessing, the implied observation that no one has a cornerstone on truth and approaching God. What an extraordinary admission for a prayerbook filled with the strivings of generations of Jews!
All our prayers are but imperfect attempts to touch the divine. Let us nonetheless enter the sanctuary and begin the attempt.
Rather than cursing his enemy, Balaam blesses the Israelites. He offers several moving tributes about the people of Israel. It is here that he offers the words of the familiar Mah Tovu prayer that opens the morning service: “How fair are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel!” (Numbers 24)
A beautiful poem to be sure, but one authored by a non-Jewish, idolatrous prophet. His blessing opens our prayerbook. Every other prayer in our siddur is authored by Jewish hands. Yet we open with the words of someone from outside the tradition. Have you ever thought of what this might mean? Have you ever thought of the significance of this opening to our great compendium of prayers and strivings for God?
There are those who dismiss its origins and say, “It is an exception. The rule is Jewish prayers are written by Jewish hands. Balaam only reinforces the point.” But what if the Mah Tovu prayer is suggesting that we can find truth outside of our tradition, that we can discover spiritual yearnings in the non-Jewish world?
Don’t get me wrong. I love our Jewish prayers. Nothing really comes as close to expressing my views when I awake each morning than the Elohai Neshama prayer: “As long as this soul is within me I will give thanks to You, Adonai my God…” Then again perhaps sometimes we can also find meaning from outside of our people. Sometimes as well, like Balaam, the outsider can help us see the best in ourselves and help us express our devotion to God.
My favorite poets not only include the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, but also Denise Levertov, Emily Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins, a 19th century Jesuit priest. His writing reflects the majesty of the Bible’s psalms: “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil…”
There are those who believe that truth and pathways to God can only be found from those who are like them, from those who think and act as they do. Last week we read of ultra-Orthodox Ashkenazi Jews who do not want their children even to pray and learn with ultra-Orthodox Sephardic Jews. This is the most extreme example of shutting the outside world out. This is not how truth is discovered. This is not how truth is revealed.
How are you going to learn or grow if you only talk to those who are like yourself? How are you going to better pray to God if you never listen to the prayers and poetry of others? Can we find inspiration from outside of our tradition as well as from inside? How many in our congregation for example practice yoga? Is yoga merely exercise or is there a spiritual component to this practice as well, a component deriving from Eastern religious traditions?
Our prayerbook opens with the words “How fair are your tents, O Jacob, your dwellings, O Israel!” and with this blessing, the implied observation that no one has a cornerstone on truth and approaching God. What an extraordinary admission for a prayerbook filled with the strivings of generations of Jews!
All our prayers are but imperfect attempts to touch the divine. Let us nonetheless enter the sanctuary and begin the attempt.
Shalom Hartman Institute - Haredi School Fight Undermines Israeli Democracy
Haredi School Fight Undermines Israeli Democracy
My teacher Rabbi Donniel Hartman writes:
Addendum. For more on the same issue, read this Jerusalem Post Blog about separate seating for men and women on Jerusalem buses whose routes travel through ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods.
My teacher Rabbi Donniel Hartman writes:
It is time to end the ludicrous reality in which the State of Israel funds education that undermines its existence, accepts the use of its funds to implement policies it abhors and which violate its core principles and interests. It is time to end the policy in which the State funds programs beyond its means and perpetuates an unemployable class that threatens the future of the State socially and economically.If you have not yet read Thursday's The New York Times article about these events follow this link. To summarize, Israel's Supreme Court ruled that it is unconstitutional for a school receiving public funds to separate Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews. The Ashkenazi leaders argued that the Sephardic rulings were not exacting enough and did not want their children to be influenced by the Sephardic students. Sephardic families were by the way permitted to join the Ashkenazi side of the room, on the other side of the divider. Israel's Court even referred to the United States' famous Brown v. Board of Education opinion. The protesters came out to support those ultra-Orthodox Jews we were held in contempt of court when they refused to abide by the court's opinion. Let us hope that this opinion leads to an untangling of state funding for Hasidic education where students are trained to spend a lifetime of yeshiva learning never serving in the IDF or aspiring to gainful employment where they would contribute income tax dollars and give back to Israeli society in a tangible way. Torah learning was never meant to be sustained by a welfare state. The great medieval commentator, Rashi, argued that it is better to flay carcasses in the market (I am not sure what that it is, but it sounds like a really bad job) than be dependent on tzedakah.
However, the public must also recognize and concede that no fault lies with the ultra-Orthodox. They have not stolen State resources but were legally allocated them. They are not to blame for wanting the State to fund a perpetual 19th century Polish ghetto. We are to blame for perpetuating the myth that we can and are willing to do so. Only when we recognize our responsibility will we avoid future standoffs between the Supreme Court and the mothers.
Addendum. For more on the same issue, read this Jerusalem Post Blog about separate seating for men and women on Jerusalem buses whose routes travel through ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods.
Hukkat Sermon
We learn in this week's Torah portion that Moses is not allowed to enter the Promised Land. The episode is recounted in Numbers 20 where he hits the rock in anger in order to produce water for the complaining Israelites. The commentators debate what was Moses sin? There are several suggestions. 1) He hits the rock rather than commanding the rock. 2) He did not give God the proper credit for the miracle, saying, "Shall we bring forth water..." 3) Although we understand why he lost patience with the people, his anger nonetheless got the better of him. 4) Or, he lost faith in the people he led, saying, "Listen, you rebels..." This final suggestion offers us a lesson for leadership. We must never lose faith in the people we lead. We must never see a distance between a leader and the people. When Moses called the Israelites "you rebels" he lost faith in his congregation. The task of leadership is to lead from within, to be a part of the community, but never apart, to be ahead but never distant. On this Shabbat when we install our new presidents and new board we should take note from this week's portion. We learn from Moses' example to always have faith in the future and its promise. We also learn from his mistake to never lose faith in the community. May we always believe in our congregation and our community.
Elton John Concert in Israel
Haaretz Daily Newspaper | Israel News
Unlike a number of other musicians like Elvis Costello and Carlos Santana, Elton John refused to bow to pressure to cancel his performance in Israel. About 50,000 attended his concert in Ramat Gan stadium outside Tel Aviv. John said, "I have always believed that music inhabits a world set apart from politics, religious differences or prejudice of any kind." This is welcome news. It should be noted that last month Egypt banned Elton John from appearing in its country because of his comments calling Jesus "a super intelligent gay man." I will allow my readers to surmise what this says about debate and pluralism in the Muslim world.
Unlike a number of other musicians like Elvis Costello and Carlos Santana, Elton John refused to bow to pressure to cancel his performance in Israel. About 50,000 attended his concert in Ramat Gan stadium outside Tel Aviv. John said, "I have always believed that music inhabits a world set apart from politics, religious differences or prejudice of any kind." This is welcome news. It should be noted that last month Egypt banned Elton John from appearing in its country because of his comments calling Jesus "a super intelligent gay man." I will allow my readers to surmise what this says about debate and pluralism in the Muslim world.
Hukkat
This week's Torah portion, Hukkat, tells the story of why Moses is not allowed to enter the Promised Land.
A recap. After arriving in the wilderness of Zin the people again complain against Moses. They scream, "If only we had perished when our brothers [led by Korah] perished at the instance of the Lord! Why have you brought the Lord's congregation into this wilderness for us and our beasts to die there? Why did you make us leave Egypt to bring us to this wretched place, a place with no grain or figs or vines or pomegranates? There is not even enough water to drink!"
Moses becomes distraught with the people's incessant complaining. Freedom is no longer enough for them. They want pomegranates as well! Moses consults with God and is instructed to command a rock to bring forth water in front of all the people. Moses assembles the people and says, "Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?" Moses raises his staff and strikes the rock two times and out comes water. But God exclaims, "Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them." (Numbers 20)
The commentators debate with each other, trying to answer what was Moses' great sin, a sin apparently so terrible that Moses is punished with not being allowed to fulfill the promise of entering the land. Some suggest it was that he hit the rock. Others, that he hit the rock twice or that he did not give proper credit to God for the miracle. Still others say that it was his angry tone. Apparently even the great Moses has an Achilles' heal. It is his anger. Like other great literary and historical giants Moses is a tragic hero because of this fatal flaw. This is one way to read the story. Moses lost his temper. Moses was not patient when he most needed to be. He is punished for his anger.
Another way to read the story is to see Moses as representing unfulfilled promises. If we are to see ourselves in the Torah and to see our lives mirrored in its heroes, then the question is not what did Moses do that was so terrible and deserving of punishment, but instead how do we learn from Moses how to face unfulfilled promises.
Throughout our lives others will make promises to us. Some will be fulfilled. Others will not. How will we face these? Will we become angry? Not everything we hope for, or wish for, or plan for will come to fruition. People will disappoint us. We will disappoint ourselves. Even God will disappoint us. Will we blame others? Will we lash out in anger? Will we lose faith? Life will present us with disappointments. The only question is how will we face them.
In a later Torah portion, Va-ethanan, Moses begs God to allow him to enter the Promised Land. God refuses. Moses pleads, "O Lord God, You who let Your servant see the first works of Your greatness and Your mighty hand, You whose powerful deeds no god in heaven or on earth can equal. Let me, I pray, cross over and see the good land on the other side of the Jordan..." (Deuteronomy 3) We can sense Moses' pain. He begs God to allow him to touch the land. God only allows him to see the land from afar. But the promise remains unfulfilled.
We are left to wonder. After all that Moses endured and did for God and the people, his last wish remains unrealized. How much more so the situations in our own lives. If Moses does not have every wish realized, then who are we to expect every promise to attain fulfillment? We are left with incomplete answers. And so how do we respond? Perhaps the only answer is the recognition and acceptance that we cannot fulfill every promise. Every dream is not achieved.
Still we cannot let go of hope. Promises and dreams are not always realized with our own hands and in our own lifetimes. Sometimes our promises are for others to fulfill. Like Moses, our hopes and dreams are not always wrapped up in our own lives, but in future generations.
We rest our promises on those who follow us.
A recap. After arriving in the wilderness of Zin the people again complain against Moses. They scream, "If only we had perished when our brothers [led by Korah] perished at the instance of the Lord! Why have you brought the Lord's congregation into this wilderness for us and our beasts to die there? Why did you make us leave Egypt to bring us to this wretched place, a place with no grain or figs or vines or pomegranates? There is not even enough water to drink!"
Moses becomes distraught with the people's incessant complaining. Freedom is no longer enough for them. They want pomegranates as well! Moses consults with God and is instructed to command a rock to bring forth water in front of all the people. Moses assembles the people and says, "Listen, you rebels, shall we get water for you out of this rock?" Moses raises his staff and strikes the rock two times and out comes water. But God exclaims, "Because you did not trust Me enough to affirm My sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people, therefore you shall not lead this congregation into the land that I have given them." (Numbers 20)
The commentators debate with each other, trying to answer what was Moses' great sin, a sin apparently so terrible that Moses is punished with not being allowed to fulfill the promise of entering the land. Some suggest it was that he hit the rock. Others, that he hit the rock twice or that he did not give proper credit to God for the miracle. Still others say that it was his angry tone. Apparently even the great Moses has an Achilles' heal. It is his anger. Like other great literary and historical giants Moses is a tragic hero because of this fatal flaw. This is one way to read the story. Moses lost his temper. Moses was not patient when he most needed to be. He is punished for his anger.
Another way to read the story is to see Moses as representing unfulfilled promises. If we are to see ourselves in the Torah and to see our lives mirrored in its heroes, then the question is not what did Moses do that was so terrible and deserving of punishment, but instead how do we learn from Moses how to face unfulfilled promises.
Throughout our lives others will make promises to us. Some will be fulfilled. Others will not. How will we face these? Will we become angry? Not everything we hope for, or wish for, or plan for will come to fruition. People will disappoint us. We will disappoint ourselves. Even God will disappoint us. Will we blame others? Will we lash out in anger? Will we lose faith? Life will present us with disappointments. The only question is how will we face them.
In a later Torah portion, Va-ethanan, Moses begs God to allow him to enter the Promised Land. God refuses. Moses pleads, "O Lord God, You who let Your servant see the first works of Your greatness and Your mighty hand, You whose powerful deeds no god in heaven or on earth can equal. Let me, I pray, cross over and see the good land on the other side of the Jordan..." (Deuteronomy 3) We can sense Moses' pain. He begs God to allow him to touch the land. God only allows him to see the land from afar. But the promise remains unfulfilled.
We are left to wonder. After all that Moses endured and did for God and the people, his last wish remains unrealized. How much more so the situations in our own lives. If Moses does not have every wish realized, then who are we to expect every promise to attain fulfillment? We are left with incomplete answers. And so how do we respond? Perhaps the only answer is the recognition and acceptance that we cannot fulfill every promise. Every dream is not achieved.
Still we cannot let go of hope. Promises and dreams are not always realized with our own hands and in our own lifetimes. Sometimes our promises are for others to fulfill. Like Moses, our hopes and dreams are not always wrapped up in our own lives, but in future generations.
We rest our promises on those who follow us.
Korah and the Gaza Flotilla Sermon
In this week’s Torah portion we see further evidence that nothing goes according to plan. In fact the entire Book of Numbers is evidence of this. Such is also the case with recent events and Israel’s raid on the so called, Gaza flotilla. Much of the Israeli press has expressed what I believe. Here is my view. The raid was right but not smart.
Here is why Israel was right. Israel evacuated the Gaza Strip. Hamas now controls the Strip and still fires rockets at Israeli civilians. Hamas refuses to recognize Israel and calls for its destruction. Despite this Israel still actively sustains Gaza. A few facts. Israel’s hospitals accept thousands of Gazans for medical treatment. It lets food and medicine through its checkpoints—of course, not too much building supplies because these could be used for constructing tunnels. It supplies Gaza with electricity and gas. No other country in the world sustains a government bent on its destruction in this way. (Gadi Taub, “S.O.S.,” TNR, June 9, 2010)
But the raid was not smart. The raid was all about PR and the world’s perception of the struggle. Israel’s actions played into the hands of those who wish to delegitimize Israel. Although the world is wrong, the world now perceives Israel as the aggressor and Hamas as the victim. This is what the flotilla was about and Israel played into its hands. Stopping a boatload of advanced weaponry is a different question—and this Israel has successfully done on a number of occasions.
This is the same problem with the settlements. I have always believed that there is an important difference between a Jerusalem suburb and a settlement in Hebron. But again right does not always make smart. The world is again wrong—but the expansion of housing in the West Bank erodes Israel’s standing in the world. Although I would very much like to say buck world opinion, we cannot.
Zionism is not just about power; it is about international legitimacy. It is about raising the status of the Jews to the family of nations. We can’t just say, “The world will always hate us, the world is wrong.” We must also be smart—most especially in how and when we yield power.
During Olmert’s tenure as prime minister there was a similar attempt to break the blockade. Olmert’s government let the ships pass through and dock in Gaza. The strategic equation was not altered. A few more rockets will not alter this equation. The world quickly forgot this event. And Hamas was robbed of an opportunity to portray itself as a victim. This is what should have happened a few weeks ago. Israel should have said, “We will not let them in” until the very last minute and then quietly let them in. Now Israel’s actions have further eroded its standing in the world and even more importantly, its relations with Jews worldwide. This greatly worries me.
The reflexive response of Israel defense organizations only further entrenches us in our own self-righteousness. You can’t reshape the discussion when there are hundreds more people than weapons on board these ships. Such responses do not solve the problem or offer solutions. We have to look at these problems anew.
Israel stands at a crossroads. It is struggling with how to be both Jewish and democratic. A few sobering observations about changes that are happening in Israel. There are six transformations and changes in Israeli society that you must be aware of. (Lecture by Moshe Halbertal, Jerusalem, February 2, 2010)
1. The transformation of the Haredi/ultra-Orthodox (“religious”) community. It is no longer a small percentage of the population. No longer does it not participate in the government—in fact it is part of the current government. Moshe Halbertal argues that these Jews are maintaining a sense of galut (exile) in Israel. They have no sense of Jewish pluralism; they do not believe in democracy.
2. The transformation of individual rights. Like people here, Israeli parents are more concerned with individual liberties than nation building. This makes for great difficulties in building an army and building a country. The notion of sacrificing for the greater good is, like many young people here, no longer a part of the general vocabulary.
3. Russian aliya. Today over 20% of Israelis are from the Former Soviet Union. 25% of combat soldiers are Russian. They are by and large nationalistic. Even more important these olim did not bring with them a legacy of democracy.
4. The weakening of groups that were once a bridge between the secular and religious. The weakening of Sephardic culture shapes this transformation for the Sephardim often served as this bridge. Ashkenazi culture is black and white; it is this heritage that sees things in categories of all or nothing. It is this culture that sees consistency as a primary value. The Sephardic culture by contrast is more fluid. You can go to services in the morning and play soccer in the afternoon. Tel Aviv and Jerusalem no longer look like different cities. They look more like different societies.
5. The transformation of the Israeli Arab. No more do they see themselves as a discriminated minority but as occupied. Their agenda is now to redefine the state. Their goal is to undermine Israel’s Jewish character. And Israeli Jews labeling the Israeli Arab as a fifth column undermines country’s democratic principles. Israel must figure out how to be Jewish and promote Arab culture.
Each of these five changes represents 20% of Israeli society. This means that 2/5 of Israel does not accept the Jewish-democratic vision of the state. The Haredi don’t accept democracy; the Arab population does not accept the state’s Jewish character. Both don’t serve in the IDF, the institution that continues to shape Israel society. One more final, sobering statistic. 49% of current elementary school students in Israel are Haredi or Arab.
6. Finally these transformations influence changing relationship between the diaspora and Israel. Half of the Jews today do not remember the 6-Day War and that righteous victory. Many feel history is boring and even worse, embarrassing. American Jews are by and large embarrassed by the wielding of Jewish power and young Jews seem uncomfortable with overt displays of Jewish particularism. In addition recent attempts to use the state’s power to disenfranchise non-Orthodox Jewry draws a further divide between diaspora and Israeli Jews.
The challenge is how does Israel maintain its Jewish identity while also remaining true to its democratic values. We are in this fight. We must be in this fight. This was the vision of Israel’s founding. The transformation of Israeli society and the recent blunders that we continue to read about erode this historic relationship between American Jews and Israel.
It is time we return to the principles on which Israel was founded. It is time that we lend our support not in defending every single Israeli action but by supporting its aspiration to be Jewish and democratic. Israel cannot sacrifice its Jewishness. Israel must not sacrifice its democratic principles. Otherwise we will be forever trapped in the Book of Numbers and continue wandering throughout the wilderness, repeating the mistakes and blunders of our ancestors, and never realizing the promise of the Promised Land.
Here is why Israel was right. Israel evacuated the Gaza Strip. Hamas now controls the Strip and still fires rockets at Israeli civilians. Hamas refuses to recognize Israel and calls for its destruction. Despite this Israel still actively sustains Gaza. A few facts. Israel’s hospitals accept thousands of Gazans for medical treatment. It lets food and medicine through its checkpoints—of course, not too much building supplies because these could be used for constructing tunnels. It supplies Gaza with electricity and gas. No other country in the world sustains a government bent on its destruction in this way. (Gadi Taub, “S.O.S.,” TNR, June 9, 2010)
But the raid was not smart. The raid was all about PR and the world’s perception of the struggle. Israel’s actions played into the hands of those who wish to delegitimize Israel. Although the world is wrong, the world now perceives Israel as the aggressor and Hamas as the victim. This is what the flotilla was about and Israel played into its hands. Stopping a boatload of advanced weaponry is a different question—and this Israel has successfully done on a number of occasions.
This is the same problem with the settlements. I have always believed that there is an important difference between a Jerusalem suburb and a settlement in Hebron. But again right does not always make smart. The world is again wrong—but the expansion of housing in the West Bank erodes Israel’s standing in the world. Although I would very much like to say buck world opinion, we cannot.
Zionism is not just about power; it is about international legitimacy. It is about raising the status of the Jews to the family of nations. We can’t just say, “The world will always hate us, the world is wrong.” We must also be smart—most especially in how and when we yield power.
During Olmert’s tenure as prime minister there was a similar attempt to break the blockade. Olmert’s government let the ships pass through and dock in Gaza. The strategic equation was not altered. A few more rockets will not alter this equation. The world quickly forgot this event. And Hamas was robbed of an opportunity to portray itself as a victim. This is what should have happened a few weeks ago. Israel should have said, “We will not let them in” until the very last minute and then quietly let them in. Now Israel’s actions have further eroded its standing in the world and even more importantly, its relations with Jews worldwide. This greatly worries me.
The reflexive response of Israel defense organizations only further entrenches us in our own self-righteousness. You can’t reshape the discussion when there are hundreds more people than weapons on board these ships. Such responses do not solve the problem or offer solutions. We have to look at these problems anew.
Israel stands at a crossroads. It is struggling with how to be both Jewish and democratic. A few sobering observations about changes that are happening in Israel. There are six transformations and changes in Israeli society that you must be aware of. (Lecture by Moshe Halbertal, Jerusalem, February 2, 2010)
1. The transformation of the Haredi/ultra-Orthodox (“religious”) community. It is no longer a small percentage of the population. No longer does it not participate in the government—in fact it is part of the current government. Moshe Halbertal argues that these Jews are maintaining a sense of galut (exile) in Israel. They have no sense of Jewish pluralism; they do not believe in democracy.
2. The transformation of individual rights. Like people here, Israeli parents are more concerned with individual liberties than nation building. This makes for great difficulties in building an army and building a country. The notion of sacrificing for the greater good is, like many young people here, no longer a part of the general vocabulary.
3. Russian aliya. Today over 20% of Israelis are from the Former Soviet Union. 25% of combat soldiers are Russian. They are by and large nationalistic. Even more important these olim did not bring with them a legacy of democracy.
4. The weakening of groups that were once a bridge between the secular and religious. The weakening of Sephardic culture shapes this transformation for the Sephardim often served as this bridge. Ashkenazi culture is black and white; it is this heritage that sees things in categories of all or nothing. It is this culture that sees consistency as a primary value. The Sephardic culture by contrast is more fluid. You can go to services in the morning and play soccer in the afternoon. Tel Aviv and Jerusalem no longer look like different cities. They look more like different societies.
5. The transformation of the Israeli Arab. No more do they see themselves as a discriminated minority but as occupied. Their agenda is now to redefine the state. Their goal is to undermine Israel’s Jewish character. And Israeli Jews labeling the Israeli Arab as a fifth column undermines country’s democratic principles. Israel must figure out how to be Jewish and promote Arab culture.
Each of these five changes represents 20% of Israeli society. This means that 2/5 of Israel does not accept the Jewish-democratic vision of the state. The Haredi don’t accept democracy; the Arab population does not accept the state’s Jewish character. Both don’t serve in the IDF, the institution that continues to shape Israel society. One more final, sobering statistic. 49% of current elementary school students in Israel are Haredi or Arab.
6. Finally these transformations influence changing relationship between the diaspora and Israel. Half of the Jews today do not remember the 6-Day War and that righteous victory. Many feel history is boring and even worse, embarrassing. American Jews are by and large embarrassed by the wielding of Jewish power and young Jews seem uncomfortable with overt displays of Jewish particularism. In addition recent attempts to use the state’s power to disenfranchise non-Orthodox Jewry draws a further divide between diaspora and Israeli Jews.
The challenge is how does Israel maintain its Jewish identity while also remaining true to its democratic values. We are in this fight. We must be in this fight. This was the vision of Israel’s founding. The transformation of Israeli society and the recent blunders that we continue to read about erode this historic relationship between American Jews and Israel.
It is time we return to the principles on which Israel was founded. It is time that we lend our support not in defending every single Israeli action but by supporting its aspiration to be Jewish and democratic. Israel cannot sacrifice its Jewishness. Israel must not sacrifice its democratic principles. Otherwise we will be forever trapped in the Book of Numbers and continue wandering throughout the wilderness, repeating the mistakes and blunders of our ancestors, and never realizing the promise of the Promised Land.