How Hatred Begins
What leads to Pharaoh’s murderous hatred of the Jewish people?
The Torah suggests it is not antisemitism as many think. He does not hate the Jewish people because they are Jews. He instead fears their growing numbers. Pharaoh proclaims, “The Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them, so that they may not increase; otherwise in the event of war they may join our enemies.” (Exodus 1)
Pharaoh’s worry is the all too common fear of a fifth column. He worries that the Jewish people will grow so large that they will attack his country from within. I wonder. Is this threat real or imagined? Is it possible that Pharaoh is so insecure about his power that he looks out at the Israelites and his concern grows? Does he begin to see everyone in a similar manner? Pharaoh enacts legislation against the Israelites. They are enslaved. Their suffering increases.
Pharaoh’s worries, however, can never be quelled. Imaginary threats can never be sated. His fear turns murderous. He instructs the Hebrew midwives to kill every first-born Israelite. Where does such murderous hatred begin? It forms in the mind.
And that begins with forgetfulness. The Torah affirms: “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.” Pharaoh forgets his history. He does not remember Joseph and by extension the Jewish people’s contributions to his society. Without the blessings of memory he begins to see Joseph’s descendants not as an asset but a threat.
Slavery becomes possible because he did not observe an essential teaching: Remember! Suffering does not begin with hatred. It follows from a lack of historical memory.
Pharaoh does not know Joseph. He does not remember. And then he looks at Joseph’s descendants and sees not blessings but threats.
Forgetfulness leads to hatred. And hatred too often leads to murder.
Remember!
We were slaves in Egypt.
Love the stranger! (Leviticus 19)
The Torah suggests it is not antisemitism as many think. He does not hate the Jewish people because they are Jews. He instead fears their growing numbers. Pharaoh proclaims, “The Israelite people are much too numerous for us. Let us deal shrewdly with them, so that they may not increase; otherwise in the event of war they may join our enemies.” (Exodus 1)
Pharaoh’s worry is the all too common fear of a fifth column. He worries that the Jewish people will grow so large that they will attack his country from within. I wonder. Is this threat real or imagined? Is it possible that Pharaoh is so insecure about his power that he looks out at the Israelites and his concern grows? Does he begin to see everyone in a similar manner? Pharaoh enacts legislation against the Israelites. They are enslaved. Their suffering increases.
Pharaoh’s worries, however, can never be quelled. Imaginary threats can never be sated. His fear turns murderous. He instructs the Hebrew midwives to kill every first-born Israelite. Where does such murderous hatred begin? It forms in the mind.
And that begins with forgetfulness. The Torah affirms: “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Joseph.” Pharaoh forgets his history. He does not remember Joseph and by extension the Jewish people’s contributions to his society. Without the blessings of memory he begins to see Joseph’s descendants not as an asset but a threat.
Slavery becomes possible because he did not observe an essential teaching: Remember! Suffering does not begin with hatred. It follows from a lack of historical memory.
Pharaoh does not know Joseph. He does not remember. And then he looks at Joseph’s descendants and sees not blessings but threats.
Forgetfulness leads to hatred. And hatred too often leads to murder.
Remember!
We were slaves in Egypt.
Love the stranger! (Leviticus 19)
Blessings of Peace
Our hearts are once again joined in sorrow as we watch our brethren in Israel mourn four young people murdered by a terrorist. Anyone who has visited Jerusalem has most certainly stood in this very spot on the Tayelet (Haas Promenade) where the terrorist drove a truck into a group of soldiers. From there we have looked to the north and marveled at the Old City’s walls. While anger, and despair, is an understandable emotion the most important thing is for us instead to steel our resolve. Terrorism can only attack the heart if we allow it in. Add extra songs and prayers to help calm your fears and strengthen your hearts.
This week we conclude the Torah’s first book. We say goodbye to the stories of the patriarchs and matriarchs and turn to that of the Jewish people. And then slavery. Freedom. Revelation. Wandering. Some more revelation. And wandering. And a whole lot more wandering. Until we turn once again back to the patriarchs.
Prior to Jacob’s death he offers a blessing to his grandchildren: Ephraim and Manasseh. He tells his son, Joseph: I never expected to see you again, and here I get to see your children as well. He concludes his blessing with the words: “By you shall Israel invoke blessings, saying: May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” (Genesis 48:20)
Following the lighting of the Shabbat candles, parents therefore bless their sons with these same words: May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh. For daughters we add, May God make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. For both sons and daughters we then say the priestly blessing: “May the Lord bless you and protect you; may the Lord deal kindly and graciously with you; may the Lord bestow favor upon you and grant you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-26)
Why does the tradition assign this weeks’ words to the blessing of sons? Ephraim and Manasseh are born in Egypt, not the land of Israel. Moreover they are born to Joseph and his Egyptian wife, Asenath. It remains a curiosity.
There are two possibilities. These words are first spoken by a grandparent, Jacob. When parents bless their children they invoke the blessings of prior generations. The parents are the link between grandparents and grandchildren. They are the conduit by which the values they inherited are brought into the future. Parents make sure that children live up to their inherited responsibilities.
More importantly Ephraim and Manasseh are the first brothers in the entire Book of Genesis who get along and live in peace. When we bless our children we hope and pray that they too will live in peace, that they will not know conflict. While we know and understand that that a life devoid of struggle is an impossibility, this remains our prayer. We pray that our children might know peace.
Knowing otherwise this hope remains our most steadfast prayer. “Peace, peace to those far and near, says the Lord.” (Isaiah 57:19)
Parents thus place their hands on their children’s heads and recite these words. Susie and I continue to observe this ritual, at least when our children are home and we are celebrating Shabbat and holidays together. It punctuated the week during our children’s younger years. I find myself growing nostalgic. They sat still if but for a brief moment and received their blessing, an extra Shabbat kiss and another “I love you.” The rhythm of the week is punctuated by blessings.
While most argue that the tradition’s intention is to make our lives more Jewish I believe otherwise. Instead they add meaning to our lives. They demand a pause. They insist on reflection. They turn our thoughts to what is most important, in this case: family. And that is a measure of holiness everyone requires.
There are many blessings to add to your lives. The tradition is filled with hundreds. There is the blessing for the ocean, for the wine, and for the bread. The list appears daunting. Rather than becoming overwhelmed, it is better just to begin. Say it in English if you are more comfortable. This week we are reminded of a great starting point: the words for blessing our children. No matter how old your children might be, it is never too late to start.
Everyone can use an added dose of meaning. Everyone deserves a moment of reflection. Everyone requires more “I love yous.”
This week we conclude the Torah’s first book. We say goodbye to the stories of the patriarchs and matriarchs and turn to that of the Jewish people. And then slavery. Freedom. Revelation. Wandering. Some more revelation. And wandering. And a whole lot more wandering. Until we turn once again back to the patriarchs.
Prior to Jacob’s death he offers a blessing to his grandchildren: Ephraim and Manasseh. He tells his son, Joseph: I never expected to see you again, and here I get to see your children as well. He concludes his blessing with the words: “By you shall Israel invoke blessings, saying: May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh.” (Genesis 48:20)
Following the lighting of the Shabbat candles, parents therefore bless their sons with these same words: May God make you like Ephraim and Manasseh. For daughters we add, May God make you like Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah. For both sons and daughters we then say the priestly blessing: “May the Lord bless you and protect you; may the Lord deal kindly and graciously with you; may the Lord bestow favor upon you and grant you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-26)
Why does the tradition assign this weeks’ words to the blessing of sons? Ephraim and Manasseh are born in Egypt, not the land of Israel. Moreover they are born to Joseph and his Egyptian wife, Asenath. It remains a curiosity.
There are two possibilities. These words are first spoken by a grandparent, Jacob. When parents bless their children they invoke the blessings of prior generations. The parents are the link between grandparents and grandchildren. They are the conduit by which the values they inherited are brought into the future. Parents make sure that children live up to their inherited responsibilities.
More importantly Ephraim and Manasseh are the first brothers in the entire Book of Genesis who get along and live in peace. When we bless our children we hope and pray that they too will live in peace, that they will not know conflict. While we know and understand that that a life devoid of struggle is an impossibility, this remains our prayer. We pray that our children might know peace.
Knowing otherwise this hope remains our most steadfast prayer. “Peace, peace to those far and near, says the Lord.” (Isaiah 57:19)
Parents thus place their hands on their children’s heads and recite these words. Susie and I continue to observe this ritual, at least when our children are home and we are celebrating Shabbat and holidays together. It punctuated the week during our children’s younger years. I find myself growing nostalgic. They sat still if but for a brief moment and received their blessing, an extra Shabbat kiss and another “I love you.” The rhythm of the week is punctuated by blessings.
While most argue that the tradition’s intention is to make our lives more Jewish I believe otherwise. Instead they add meaning to our lives. They demand a pause. They insist on reflection. They turn our thoughts to what is most important, in this case: family. And that is a measure of holiness everyone requires.
There are many blessings to add to your lives. The tradition is filled with hundreds. There is the blessing for the ocean, for the wine, and for the bread. The list appears daunting. Rather than becoming overwhelmed, it is better just to begin. Say it in English if you are more comfortable. This week we are reminded of a great starting point: the words for blessing our children. No matter how old your children might be, it is never too late to start.
Everyone can use an added dose of meaning. Everyone deserves a moment of reflection. Everyone requires more “I love yous.”
The Settlements Explained, Partially
What follows is Friday evening’s sermon, although slightly corrected and updated. In the delivered version I had for example exaggerated the number of settlers and underestimated the West Bank Palestinian population. My apologies. I have also added a few additional facts.
This week’s Torah portion begins with the word vayigash. And Judah drew near to Joseph. He drew near to plead for his brother Benjamin. And so I wish to draw near to a topic that is fraught with controversy and one that has been in the news these past weeks: settlements. I would like to think that I too speak in behalf of my brethren, but that will be for you to decide. Nonetheless I will likewise draw near.
Let me begin by stating my bias. President Obama is both right and he is wrong. He is wrong that the United Nations is an honest broker. He is wrong that this institution offers an address to rectify the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. With the exception of the UN Partition vote of 1947, that I might add Israel accepted and the Arab world rejected, I can think of few if any UN votes that have been even handed in their approach to this conflict. The recent UNESCO statement that in effect denied the historical Jewish connection to the city of Jerusalem in general and the Western Wall in particular is yet another recent case in point. While the Security Council resolution was more balanced than most, the United States’ abstention might in fact serve to strengthen Israel’s enemies and weaken its negotiating position. Let me be blunt. The UN long ago abandoned the moral high ground.
Nonetheless the attacks on Obama and the accusations that he has abandoned Israel or that he is the worst president ever in regards to Israel are simply false. There is plenty to disagree with regarding his policies—the fall of Aleppo and the abandonment of millions of human beings in the face of their slaughter by Assad on one side and ISIS and the other represents his greatest policy and moral failure—still the shrill language directed against the president is unhelpful. Moreover, it is inaccurate. He recently signed a $38 billion military aid package for Israel. His administration vetoed every other UN Security Council resolution critical of Israel. He rushed emergency aid for more Iron Dome batteries during the Gaza War. Some Israeli military leaders in fact, and contrary to my own opinion, praise the Iran nuclear deal. They argue that the deal has delayed, if not forestalled, an Iran bomb. The vitriol is demeaning of the accusers who throw it. Like his predecessors President Obama’s record is somewhat uneven. President George H.W. Bush also fought with Israel over the settlement enterprise. He held up $10 billion in loan guarantees as long as Israel continued expanding settlements in the West Bank and Gaza. The fact is that US policy has always been opposed to the settlement enterprise. Sometimes presidents have pushed this to the forefront. Other times, they have not.
People see what they want to see. They hear what they want to hear. If you long ago decided that Obama is an enemy of the Jewish state then that is what you will hear and see in every one of his actions. I continue to believe, however, that every US administration going back to Harry Truman is a friend of Israel. Some are better friends than others of course, but let’s be crystal clear about one important fact. Friendship does not mean agreement. In fact the rabbis teach: “Any love not accompanied by criticism is not love at all.” (Bereshit Rabbah) It is instead infatuation. When are American Jews, and most especially their leaders and organizations, going to move away from infatuation to real love? You can love Israel and criticize Israel. Criticism does not mean you love Israel any less. It may mean that you love something more because you believe it can be better; it can be improved. Sure too often criticism of Israel comes from our enemies and even takes the form of antisemitism, but that’s not what’s coming from the US government or our current president or Secretary Kerry.
I take them at their word. I think they believe that the settlement enterprise endangers Israel’s democratic character. To be honest, that is my opinion as well. But of course it is not as simple as that. What the world, and the UN, calls settlements is not what I call settlements. Let me explain.
In the Six Day War Israel captured a great deal of territory from enemy states. It captured the Sinai and Gaza from Egypt. The Sinai was traded for a peace deal with Egypt. Israel unilaterally withdrew from Gaza and evacuated 9,000 settlers. The hope was that the Palestinian Authority would begin to fashion the semblance of a state there, but as you know Hamas soon took over (in democratic elections by the way insisted upon by George W. Bush). Now some 1.5 million Palestinians live in horrible conditions and Hamas continues to build tunnels and fire rockets at Israeli towns. The Golan was captured from Syria. Given the present civil war in Syria that territory will remain in Israel’s hands, it must remain in Israel’s hands, if for no other reason than as a necessary buffer against the chaos in the north. And finally Israel captured the West Bank and East Jerusalem from Jordan. It should be noted that it was not captured from the Palestinians. In the peace agreement with Jordan, Jordan relinquished any claim to these territories.
Soon after the 1967 War, Israel annexed East Jerusalem and built neighborhoods there such as Gilo, Har Homa, French Hill and Pisgat Zeev. These neighborhoods are part of the Jerusalem municipality. I don’t know of any Israeli who considers these occupied. Of the perhaps 580,000-settler figure you might read about in the newspapers this includes 200,000 in what was once the Jordanian territory in Jerusalem. So take these areas out of the equation, because Israel is not going to withdraw from these Jerusalem neighborhoods. That would be like New York abandoning the Bronx. (It should be noted that there is a new developing phenomenon. Israeli Jews are now moving into Arab East Jerusalem and taking over apartments there. Many imagine that this area will serve as the capital for a Palestinian state, which is why this is troublesome.)
Then there are the large settlement blocs that are outside of Jerusalem’s municipal limits, such as Maale Adumim, Gush Etzion, Modiin Illit and Givat Zeev. In the North there is also Ariel. These large settlement blocs have another 290,000 Israelis. Most recognize that in any peace agreement these areas would have to be incorporated within Israel’s borders. They are just too big and have too many people to be dealt with in any other way. In addition it’s important to understand that many people living there are not ideological settlers who believe that this territory is their God given inheritance. They moved there because they get some tax breaks and they could get a bigger house and a bigger lawn. From Ariel, for example, it’s an easy commute to Tel Aviv.
What is so unfortunate in these public discussions of the settlements is that no such distinctions are made. My liberal relatives who live in Pisgat Zeev are lumped together with 500 radical settlers living in Hebron, a city of some 120,000 Arabs. I met with one such settler, who argued that democracy is a means to an end. And what is the end that he hopes for? He wants the establishment of a Jewish state, not a Jewish-democratic state, in which the third Temple will be built. He wants a theocracy! There are throughout the West Bank small settlements. In Kiryat Arba, outside of Hebron, for example, some 7,000 settlers live. There are approximately 90,000 settlers living in these settlements. There are by the way some 230 settlements. They are not all as ideologically driven as the Hebron settlers, but many are. Such settlements represent a worry for Israel’s democracy. They also undermine any hope that Palestinians might achieve a contiguous state in a large portion of the West Bank. Roads are built that connect Jewish settlements and divide Palestinian areas. Checkpoints are maintained. Yes terrorism remains a grave threat. And Palestinian intransigence is a significant stumbling block toward making peace. The continued Palestinian refusal to accept the Jewish state within the Arab Middle East remains the greatest hurdle to overcome. In addition, Palestinian leaders’ praise of murderous terrorists is not only immoral but confounds any attempt to make meaningful progress.
Still you need to know this. The settlement enterprise is undermining Palestinian hope and endangering Israeli democracy. Secretary Kerry is right. Prime Minister Netanyahu speaks about two states for two peoples but his government continues to expand these isolated settlements. Shekels spent on settlement expansion are buried in various other budgets, such as defense and transportation. These settlements are what I would call isolated. They are often isolated geographically. They are sometimes built on confiscated land. They are often built without the government’s permission by the so-called hilltop youth and then retroactively recognized. Today there are some 100 settlements that are not recognized as legal—and that is by the State of Israel. These must be isolated ideologically. They are antithetical to Israel’s democratic principles. It is these democratic values that unites America and Israel and binds most American Jews, especially young American Jews, to Israel. Netanyahu has failed to isolate these settlements. In fact they have expanded. And that is a problem. It is a profound worry.
Protecting these settlements forces Israeli soldiers to act against the loftiest visions for the Jewish state. Here it is in a nutshell. You cannot protect 90,000 settlers living among approximately 2.5 million Palestinians and most importantly grant citizenship to the 90,000 and not the 2.5 million and forever call yourself a democracy.
President elect Trump’s pick for ambassador David Friedman is the president of American Friends of Beit El, a settlement in the West Bank. That aligns him to the right of Bibi Netanyahu in the Israeli political spectrum; the rabbi of Beit El is rightly labeled as militant. He is not devoted to democracy as a value. He once argued that Jews should never rent homes to Arabs and that soldiers should resist orders to evacuate settlements. I have little doubt what Friedman’s judgment might be about this sermon. He apparently labels such dissenting opinions as treason. As much as I love God I also believe that too much God intoxication is especially dangerous in government. I want God to be kept at a distance when it comes to country. I think that is much safer.
You should know this as well. My worries are shared by many Israelis. I have often found it curious that there is more rigorous debate about Israel’s policies in Israel than is allowed here among American Jews. My views are represented in the Israeli Knesset—by Jewish MK’s. Everyone rightly worries about who Israel’s partner for peace might be. Who might be able to guarantee Israelis safety and security? But I can tell you this. I was in Israel the summer that 9,000 Israelis were evacuated from Gaza and you thought at times there might be a civil war, that the country was being ripped apart from within. Now there are some 90,000 settlers scattered throughout the West Bank, living outside of the security fence constructed in response to the second intifada’s murderous violence. Unless Israel’s pushes out the ideology that feeds these settlements, namely that this is Jewish land and no one else’s we are going to endanger Israel’s democratic character. Israel was founded to be both Jewish and democratic. The creative tension between these two values is what makes it so extraordinary.
Here is what Israel should do. It should invest in the neighborhoods of Jerusalem and the large settlement blocs while halting expansion of these isolated settlements. That would suggest that Israel’s government’s recognizes what the contours of the Palestinian state it publicly affirms will look like. Unfortunately it does not do this. It avoids the debate. It delays these necessary discussions. Netanyahu states that he believes in a two state solution, but his actions suggest otherwise. Let’s have the debate. More importantly let’s be open to criticism from our friends. They may be wrong. They may be right. But this is certain. A friend who demonstrates his support time and again deserves to be listened to and not dismissed as an enemy simply because we don’t like his words.
One final note of Torah. The word vayigash is used in another context. It is used when soldiers draw near to a town to make war. That is my greatest fear. I am tired of war. I wish for Israel to live in peace. But peace will not one day miraculously appear. It requires hard work. It requires difficult conversations and painful compromises. It is to our detriment to ignore criticism. We only become better by opening our hearts to critique, especially when it comes from avowed friends.
This week’s Torah portion begins with the word vayigash. And Judah drew near to Joseph. He drew near to plead for his brother Benjamin. And so I wish to draw near to a topic that is fraught with controversy and one that has been in the news these past weeks: settlements. I would like to think that I too speak in behalf of my brethren, but that will be for you to decide. Nonetheless I will likewise draw near.
Let me begin by stating my bias. President Obama is both right and he is wrong. He is wrong that the United Nations is an honest broker. He is wrong that this institution offers an address to rectify the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. With the exception of the UN Partition vote of 1947, that I might add Israel accepted and the Arab world rejected, I can think of few if any UN votes that have been even handed in their approach to this conflict. The recent UNESCO statement that in effect denied the historical Jewish connection to the city of Jerusalem in general and the Western Wall in particular is yet another recent case in point. While the Security Council resolution was more balanced than most, the United States’ abstention might in fact serve to strengthen Israel’s enemies and weaken its negotiating position. Let me be blunt. The UN long ago abandoned the moral high ground.
Nonetheless the attacks on Obama and the accusations that he has abandoned Israel or that he is the worst president ever in regards to Israel are simply false. There is plenty to disagree with regarding his policies—the fall of Aleppo and the abandonment of millions of human beings in the face of their slaughter by Assad on one side and ISIS and the other represents his greatest policy and moral failure—still the shrill language directed against the president is unhelpful. Moreover, it is inaccurate. He recently signed a $38 billion military aid package for Israel. His administration vetoed every other UN Security Council resolution critical of Israel. He rushed emergency aid for more Iron Dome batteries during the Gaza War. Some Israeli military leaders in fact, and contrary to my own opinion, praise the Iran nuclear deal. They argue that the deal has delayed, if not forestalled, an Iran bomb. The vitriol is demeaning of the accusers who throw it. Like his predecessors President Obama’s record is somewhat uneven. President George H.W. Bush also fought with Israel over the settlement enterprise. He held up $10 billion in loan guarantees as long as Israel continued expanding settlements in the West Bank and Gaza. The fact is that US policy has always been opposed to the settlement enterprise. Sometimes presidents have pushed this to the forefront. Other times, they have not.
People see what they want to see. They hear what they want to hear. If you long ago decided that Obama is an enemy of the Jewish state then that is what you will hear and see in every one of his actions. I continue to believe, however, that every US administration going back to Harry Truman is a friend of Israel. Some are better friends than others of course, but let’s be crystal clear about one important fact. Friendship does not mean agreement. In fact the rabbis teach: “Any love not accompanied by criticism is not love at all.” (Bereshit Rabbah) It is instead infatuation. When are American Jews, and most especially their leaders and organizations, going to move away from infatuation to real love? You can love Israel and criticize Israel. Criticism does not mean you love Israel any less. It may mean that you love something more because you believe it can be better; it can be improved. Sure too often criticism of Israel comes from our enemies and even takes the form of antisemitism, but that’s not what’s coming from the US government or our current president or Secretary Kerry.
I take them at their word. I think they believe that the settlement enterprise endangers Israel’s democratic character. To be honest, that is my opinion as well. But of course it is not as simple as that. What the world, and the UN, calls settlements is not what I call settlements. Let me explain.
In the Six Day War Israel captured a great deal of territory from enemy states. It captured the Sinai and Gaza from Egypt. The Sinai was traded for a peace deal with Egypt. Israel unilaterally withdrew from Gaza and evacuated 9,000 settlers. The hope was that the Palestinian Authority would begin to fashion the semblance of a state there, but as you know Hamas soon took over (in democratic elections by the way insisted upon by George W. Bush). Now some 1.5 million Palestinians live in horrible conditions and Hamas continues to build tunnels and fire rockets at Israeli towns. The Golan was captured from Syria. Given the present civil war in Syria that territory will remain in Israel’s hands, it must remain in Israel’s hands, if for no other reason than as a necessary buffer against the chaos in the north. And finally Israel captured the West Bank and East Jerusalem from Jordan. It should be noted that it was not captured from the Palestinians. In the peace agreement with Jordan, Jordan relinquished any claim to these territories.
Soon after the 1967 War, Israel annexed East Jerusalem and built neighborhoods there such as Gilo, Har Homa, French Hill and Pisgat Zeev. These neighborhoods are part of the Jerusalem municipality. I don’t know of any Israeli who considers these occupied. Of the perhaps 580,000-settler figure you might read about in the newspapers this includes 200,000 in what was once the Jordanian territory in Jerusalem. So take these areas out of the equation, because Israel is not going to withdraw from these Jerusalem neighborhoods. That would be like New York abandoning the Bronx. (It should be noted that there is a new developing phenomenon. Israeli Jews are now moving into Arab East Jerusalem and taking over apartments there. Many imagine that this area will serve as the capital for a Palestinian state, which is why this is troublesome.)
Then there are the large settlement blocs that are outside of Jerusalem’s municipal limits, such as Maale Adumim, Gush Etzion, Modiin Illit and Givat Zeev. In the North there is also Ariel. These large settlement blocs have another 290,000 Israelis. Most recognize that in any peace agreement these areas would have to be incorporated within Israel’s borders. They are just too big and have too many people to be dealt with in any other way. In addition it’s important to understand that many people living there are not ideological settlers who believe that this territory is their God given inheritance. They moved there because they get some tax breaks and they could get a bigger house and a bigger lawn. From Ariel, for example, it’s an easy commute to Tel Aviv.
What is so unfortunate in these public discussions of the settlements is that no such distinctions are made. My liberal relatives who live in Pisgat Zeev are lumped together with 500 radical settlers living in Hebron, a city of some 120,000 Arabs. I met with one such settler, who argued that democracy is a means to an end. And what is the end that he hopes for? He wants the establishment of a Jewish state, not a Jewish-democratic state, in which the third Temple will be built. He wants a theocracy! There are throughout the West Bank small settlements. In Kiryat Arba, outside of Hebron, for example, some 7,000 settlers live. There are approximately 90,000 settlers living in these settlements. There are by the way some 230 settlements. They are not all as ideologically driven as the Hebron settlers, but many are. Such settlements represent a worry for Israel’s democracy. They also undermine any hope that Palestinians might achieve a contiguous state in a large portion of the West Bank. Roads are built that connect Jewish settlements and divide Palestinian areas. Checkpoints are maintained. Yes terrorism remains a grave threat. And Palestinian intransigence is a significant stumbling block toward making peace. The continued Palestinian refusal to accept the Jewish state within the Arab Middle East remains the greatest hurdle to overcome. In addition, Palestinian leaders’ praise of murderous terrorists is not only immoral but confounds any attempt to make meaningful progress.
Still you need to know this. The settlement enterprise is undermining Palestinian hope and endangering Israeli democracy. Secretary Kerry is right. Prime Minister Netanyahu speaks about two states for two peoples but his government continues to expand these isolated settlements. Shekels spent on settlement expansion are buried in various other budgets, such as defense and transportation. These settlements are what I would call isolated. They are often isolated geographically. They are sometimes built on confiscated land. They are often built without the government’s permission by the so-called hilltop youth and then retroactively recognized. Today there are some 100 settlements that are not recognized as legal—and that is by the State of Israel. These must be isolated ideologically. They are antithetical to Israel’s democratic principles. It is these democratic values that unites America and Israel and binds most American Jews, especially young American Jews, to Israel. Netanyahu has failed to isolate these settlements. In fact they have expanded. And that is a problem. It is a profound worry.
Protecting these settlements forces Israeli soldiers to act against the loftiest visions for the Jewish state. Here it is in a nutshell. You cannot protect 90,000 settlers living among approximately 2.5 million Palestinians and most importantly grant citizenship to the 90,000 and not the 2.5 million and forever call yourself a democracy.
President elect Trump’s pick for ambassador David Friedman is the president of American Friends of Beit El, a settlement in the West Bank. That aligns him to the right of Bibi Netanyahu in the Israeli political spectrum; the rabbi of Beit El is rightly labeled as militant. He is not devoted to democracy as a value. He once argued that Jews should never rent homes to Arabs and that soldiers should resist orders to evacuate settlements. I have little doubt what Friedman’s judgment might be about this sermon. He apparently labels such dissenting opinions as treason. As much as I love God I also believe that too much God intoxication is especially dangerous in government. I want God to be kept at a distance when it comes to country. I think that is much safer.
You should know this as well. My worries are shared by many Israelis. I have often found it curious that there is more rigorous debate about Israel’s policies in Israel than is allowed here among American Jews. My views are represented in the Israeli Knesset—by Jewish MK’s. Everyone rightly worries about who Israel’s partner for peace might be. Who might be able to guarantee Israelis safety and security? But I can tell you this. I was in Israel the summer that 9,000 Israelis were evacuated from Gaza and you thought at times there might be a civil war, that the country was being ripped apart from within. Now there are some 90,000 settlers scattered throughout the West Bank, living outside of the security fence constructed in response to the second intifada’s murderous violence. Unless Israel’s pushes out the ideology that feeds these settlements, namely that this is Jewish land and no one else’s we are going to endanger Israel’s democratic character. Israel was founded to be both Jewish and democratic. The creative tension between these two values is what makes it so extraordinary.
Here is what Israel should do. It should invest in the neighborhoods of Jerusalem and the large settlement blocs while halting expansion of these isolated settlements. That would suggest that Israel’s government’s recognizes what the contours of the Palestinian state it publicly affirms will look like. Unfortunately it does not do this. It avoids the debate. It delays these necessary discussions. Netanyahu states that he believes in a two state solution, but his actions suggest otherwise. Let’s have the debate. More importantly let’s be open to criticism from our friends. They may be wrong. They may be right. But this is certain. A friend who demonstrates his support time and again deserves to be listened to and not dismissed as an enemy simply because we don’t like his words.
One final note of Torah. The word vayigash is used in another context. It is used when soldiers draw near to a town to make war. That is my greatest fear. I am tired of war. I wish for Israel to live in peace. But peace will not one day miraculously appear. It requires hard work. It requires difficult conversations and painful compromises. It is to our detriment to ignore criticism. We only become better by opening our hearts to critique, especially when it comes from avowed friends.
New Year. New Calendar
Abraham Joshua Heschel writes in his beautiful exposition of the Sabbath: “The Sabbath arrives in the world, scattering a song in the silence of the night: eternity utters a day.”
At the close of this past week’s Sabbath, I spent the evening like millions, or perhaps billions, of others. I spent Saturday evening celebrating the dawn of a new year.
It seems an odd and arbitrary celebration. After far too many drinks we count down to the turning of the clock from December 31st to January 1st. We hug and kiss and then often drink some more. We look to 2017 with promise and hope, if but momentarily.
And so the new year begins—year after year.
This event, or at least the day, is an inheritance of the Roman emperor Julius Caesar who ruled in the first century B.C.E....
At the close of this past week’s Sabbath, I spent the evening like millions, or perhaps billions, of others. I spent Saturday evening celebrating the dawn of a new year.
It seems an odd and arbitrary celebration. After far too many drinks we count down to the turning of the clock from December 31st to January 1st. We hug and kiss and then often drink some more. We look to 2017 with promise and hope, if but momentarily.
And so the new year begins—year after year.
This event, or at least the day, is an inheritance of the Roman emperor Julius Caesar who ruled in the first century B.C.E....
Everyone Lies!?
I am six feet tall. My head is covered with a thick mop of hair. And I have an opera quality singing voice. Ok, perhaps I exaggerate. Or do I lie?
Do our biblical heroes lie?
After Joseph forgives his brothers for conspiring to kill him and sell him into slavery, the entire family of Israel, who is also known as Jacob, moves from the Promised Land to Egypt. (You know how this story is going to end, but I still hope you stay tuned.) Joseph has achieved great power and renown in Egypt. He is now number two to Pharaoh.
He describes his position, however, as follows: “[God] has made me a father to Pharaoh, lord of all his household, and ruler over the whole land of Egypt.” (Genesis 45) Does Joseph exaggerate? Does he lie?
Later when instructing his brothers about their impending introduction to Pharaoh he tells them not to describe themselves as shepherds.
“When Pharaoh summons you and asks, ‘What is your occupation?’ you shall answer, ‘Your servants have been breeders of livestock from the start until now, both we and our fathers.’ For all shepherds are abhorrent to Egyptians.” (Genesis 46) Joseph has lived among the Egyptians for many years. He knows their ways. He understands what they find repugnant.
But why would his family’s occupation be so problematic? Shepherding is his inheritance. All of our biblical heroes are shepherds. Abraham is a shepherd. Moses is a shepherd. King David is a shepherd. Only Joseph appears embarrassed by the menial task of tending to a flock. Does he see it as beneath his station?
Is he so worried about his status in Egypt that he is willing to lie in order to protect his hard earned position? Perhaps he is afraid. He has spent years in jail. He understands that the whim of a ruler can send him back to the dungeon. Recall that it was the false accusations of Potiphar’s wife that sent him to an Egyptian jail. And it was the bad reports that he told his father about his brothers shepherding that perhaps caused them to sell him into slavery.
Despite his power and station he is a scarred man. His dishonesty stems from inner weakness. No wealth can assuage his insecurities. His self-esteem needs constant affirmation.
I wonder. Do heroes still lie?
For some interesting and provocative insights about lying, and truth telling, check out The (Dis)Honesty Project. Here are a few of their videos.
Do our biblical heroes lie?
After Joseph forgives his brothers for conspiring to kill him and sell him into slavery, the entire family of Israel, who is also known as Jacob, moves from the Promised Land to Egypt. (You know how this story is going to end, but I still hope you stay tuned.) Joseph has achieved great power and renown in Egypt. He is now number two to Pharaoh.
He describes his position, however, as follows: “[God] has made me a father to Pharaoh, lord of all his household, and ruler over the whole land of Egypt.” (Genesis 45) Does Joseph exaggerate? Does he lie?
Later when instructing his brothers about their impending introduction to Pharaoh he tells them not to describe themselves as shepherds.
“When Pharaoh summons you and asks, ‘What is your occupation?’ you shall answer, ‘Your servants have been breeders of livestock from the start until now, both we and our fathers.’ For all shepherds are abhorrent to Egyptians.” (Genesis 46) Joseph has lived among the Egyptians for many years. He knows their ways. He understands what they find repugnant.
But why would his family’s occupation be so problematic? Shepherding is his inheritance. All of our biblical heroes are shepherds. Abraham is a shepherd. Moses is a shepherd. King David is a shepherd. Only Joseph appears embarrassed by the menial task of tending to a flock. Does he see it as beneath his station?
Is he so worried about his status in Egypt that he is willing to lie in order to protect his hard earned position? Perhaps he is afraid. He has spent years in jail. He understands that the whim of a ruler can send him back to the dungeon. Recall that it was the false accusations of Potiphar’s wife that sent him to an Egyptian jail. And it was the bad reports that he told his father about his brothers shepherding that perhaps caused them to sell him into slavery.
Despite his power and station he is a scarred man. His dishonesty stems from inner weakness. No wealth can assuage his insecurities. His self-esteem needs constant affirmation.
I wonder. Do heroes still lie?
The Genesis of Brotherhood
We are nearing the end of the Book of Genesis. This week we find ourselves in the midst of the Joseph story. Our hero Joseph, recently sold into slavery by his brothers, has now achieved power and renown in Egypt. The brothers who think he is a slave in a far away land must now approach him and beg for food. They do not recognize him. He walks like an Egyptian. He talks like an Egyptian. He, however, recognizes them. And so Joseph tests them.
Much of Genesis can be viewed through the lens of the siblings it portrays. It is a story about brotherly love, although more often than not jealousy and rivalry. Ultimately the book concludes with a note of forgiveness and reconciliation. There are four sets of brothers.
We open with Cain and Abel, the children of Adam and Eve. Cain is so consumed with anger that he kills his brother Abel. The hatred, apparently fostered by God’s acceptance of Abel’s sacrifice and not Cain’s, is never overcome.
The next set of brothers is Isaac and Ishmael. They too have difficulty getting along, although fare better than their predecessors. After Isaac is born Sarah banishes his brother Ishmael. They are forced to live apart from each other. And yet they come together to bury their father Abraham. No words are exchanged. After the funeral they immediately go their separate ways. Still there appears a moment of reconciliation.
Next we read about Jacob and Esau. After Jacob steals the birthright Esau threatens to kill him. Jacob runs from his angry brother. He builds a successful life, again living apart from his brother for many years. Later they are reunited. The Torah offers a tender description about their reconciliation: “Esau ran to greet [Jacob]. He embraced him and falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept.” (Genesis 33) And then once again the brothers go their separate ways.
The Joseph story is far lengthier and offers more detail. It occupies four portions. It is the culminating story.
In response to Joseph’s test he discovers that his brothers have changed. They rise up and protect their younger brother Benjamin rather than betray him as they did Joseph. Joseph is overcome with emotion and offers a model of forgiveness. He states: “Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me here; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you.” The brothers are dumfounded and unable to speak. “[Then Joseph] kissed all his brothers and wept upon them.” (Genesis 45) Finally they speak to each other. Joseph and his brothers forgive their wrongs.
Unlike the prior instances, Joseph’s brothers do not part ways after their reconciliation. The brothers, as well as their father Jacob, and their mothers, join Joseph in Egypt. The family is reunited. The brothers speak to each other. They are reconciled. It begins with Joseph’s forgiveness.
Perhaps that is lesson of the Book of Genesis.
Brothers, and siblings, and families, are often at odds. And yet this can change. It can turn. It may take years, or even generations, but ultimately there can be full reconciliation.
Many families are unable to repair divides. They keep each other at a distance. A few, however, can right the wrongs of yesterday. Joseph’s family offers the model of complete reconciliation and repair.
That might very well be the most important lesson of the Book of Genesis. It is most certainly its concluding note.
Much of Genesis can be viewed through the lens of the siblings it portrays. It is a story about brotherly love, although more often than not jealousy and rivalry. Ultimately the book concludes with a note of forgiveness and reconciliation. There are four sets of brothers.
We open with Cain and Abel, the children of Adam and Eve. Cain is so consumed with anger that he kills his brother Abel. The hatred, apparently fostered by God’s acceptance of Abel’s sacrifice and not Cain’s, is never overcome.
The next set of brothers is Isaac and Ishmael. They too have difficulty getting along, although fare better than their predecessors. After Isaac is born Sarah banishes his brother Ishmael. They are forced to live apart from each other. And yet they come together to bury their father Abraham. No words are exchanged. After the funeral they immediately go their separate ways. Still there appears a moment of reconciliation.
Next we read about Jacob and Esau. After Jacob steals the birthright Esau threatens to kill him. Jacob runs from his angry brother. He builds a successful life, again living apart from his brother for many years. Later they are reunited. The Torah offers a tender description about their reconciliation: “Esau ran to greet [Jacob]. He embraced him and falling on his neck, he kissed him; and they wept.” (Genesis 33) And then once again the brothers go their separate ways.
The Joseph story is far lengthier and offers more detail. It occupies four portions. It is the culminating story.
In response to Joseph’s test he discovers that his brothers have changed. They rise up and protect their younger brother Benjamin rather than betray him as they did Joseph. Joseph is overcome with emotion and offers a model of forgiveness. He states: “Now, do not be distressed or reproach yourselves because you sold me here; it was to save life that God sent me ahead of you.” The brothers are dumfounded and unable to speak. “[Then Joseph] kissed all his brothers and wept upon them.” (Genesis 45) Finally they speak to each other. Joseph and his brothers forgive their wrongs.
Unlike the prior instances, Joseph’s brothers do not part ways after their reconciliation. The brothers, as well as their father Jacob, and their mothers, join Joseph in Egypt. The family is reunited. The brothers speak to each other. They are reconciled. It begins with Joseph’s forgiveness.
Perhaps that is lesson of the Book of Genesis.
Brothers, and siblings, and families, are often at odds. And yet this can change. It can turn. It may take years, or even generations, but ultimately there can be full reconciliation.
Many families are unable to repair divides. They keep each other at a distance. A few, however, can right the wrongs of yesterday. Joseph’s family offers the model of complete reconciliation and repair.
That might very well be the most important lesson of the Book of Genesis. It is most certainly its concluding note.
Peacemaking, Eventually!
The story of Hanukkah is a story of zealotry.
The Maccabees took up arms against the mighty Syrian-Greek army. They eventually defeat them and rededicate the Temple. Hanukkah means dedication. The Maccabees also battled against their coreligionists who were enamored of Greek culture. In fact the Maccabees first killed a fellow Jew who was attempting to offer a sacrifice to the king.
For the Maccabees there was no room for those who did not think like them. Either you were with them or against them. Either you were fighting with them or against them and if against them, then subject to their wrath. While such extreme devotion provided them with the passion to fight against seemingly insurmountable odds, it also divided the world into two distinct categories, us and them. Eventually everyone called they becomes the enemy.
And eventually, such passion becomes all consuming....
The Maccabees took up arms against the mighty Syrian-Greek army. They eventually defeat them and rededicate the Temple. Hanukkah means dedication. The Maccabees also battled against their coreligionists who were enamored of Greek culture. In fact the Maccabees first killed a fellow Jew who was attempting to offer a sacrifice to the king.
For the Maccabees there was no room for those who did not think like them. Either you were with them or against them. Either you were fighting with them or against them and if against them, then subject to their wrath. While such extreme devotion provided them with the passion to fight against seemingly insurmountable odds, it also divided the world into two distinct categories, us and them. Eventually everyone called they becomes the enemy.
And eventually, such passion becomes all consuming....
Who Is Your Esau? Or Finding Better Angels
This week Jacob becomes Israel.
First he prepares to meet his brother Esau after years of separation, anger and distrust. Jacob is nervous about the impending reunion. When the brothers parted years ago Esau was filled with rage over Jacob’s stealing of the birthright. Esau even threatened to kill his brother. Then Jacob was young man, unmarried with no children. Now he is the father to many (and husband to Rachel and Leah). He is a wealthy man. Before the meeting between brothers, Jacob sends his family across a river.
He remains alone for the night.
Jacob was alone as well when he dreamed last week of a stairway leading to heaven with angels ascending and descending the steps. This time, however, he chooses solitude. Was it to contemplate the meeting? Would Esau forgive him? Would the brothers be reconciled?
He wrestles with an angel. Now it is not a dream. This struggle continues through the evening’s darkness. Dawn arrives. The divine being wrenches his hip and renames him, Israel. The name Israel means to wrestle with God.
The identity of the angel remains mysterious. Is it his brother Esau? That is a strong possibility given the day’s next meeting. The Torah offers little clarification: “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have wrestled with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.” (Genesis 32:29)
Who is this being? Is it again an angel?
We join the Talmud’s debate. Rabbi Samuel ben Nahmani argued: The being appeared to him as a heathen. Rabbi Samuel ben Aha (in the name of Rabba ben Ulla) countered: He appeared to him as one of the wise. (Babylonian Talmud Hullin 91a) One rabbi argues that the being is an idolater. This is in keeping with a common rabbinic theme that Esau is synonymous with Israel’s later enemies, most particularly the Romans. Another argues that he is a hacham, one of the wise. Do these two views stand in opposition?
What does this say about our identities? We are of course the descendants of Israel.
In realizing our true identity we struggle with two facets. On the one hand we wrestle with the other, the foreigner. Rabbi Samuel ben Nahmani argues that Jacob struggles against his enemies. We too battle enemies. We struggle as well to name our enemies. Is it our brother Esau?
On the other hand we fight with what we hope to be. Rabbi Samuel ben Aha sees Jacob as wrestling with a rabbinic scholar. He views the angel in his own image. Is the struggle internal or external?
A truth emerges. We can achieve a new name for ourselves by pointing at others. Or we can find our name by looking within at ourselves. Is the being our enemy? Is it instead the enemy within?
Who are our angels?
With what do we struggle?
Who are our demons?
The struggle continues. We are Israel.
First he prepares to meet his brother Esau after years of separation, anger and distrust. Jacob is nervous about the impending reunion. When the brothers parted years ago Esau was filled with rage over Jacob’s stealing of the birthright. Esau even threatened to kill his brother. Then Jacob was young man, unmarried with no children. Now he is the father to many (and husband to Rachel and Leah). He is a wealthy man. Before the meeting between brothers, Jacob sends his family across a river.
He remains alone for the night.
Jacob was alone as well when he dreamed last week of a stairway leading to heaven with angels ascending and descending the steps. This time, however, he chooses solitude. Was it to contemplate the meeting? Would Esau forgive him? Would the brothers be reconciled?
He wrestles with an angel. Now it is not a dream. This struggle continues through the evening’s darkness. Dawn arrives. The divine being wrenches his hip and renames him, Israel. The name Israel means to wrestle with God.
The identity of the angel remains mysterious. Is it his brother Esau? That is a strong possibility given the day’s next meeting. The Torah offers little clarification: “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, for you have wrestled with beings divine and human, and have prevailed.” (Genesis 32:29)
Who is this being? Is it again an angel?
We join the Talmud’s debate. Rabbi Samuel ben Nahmani argued: The being appeared to him as a heathen. Rabbi Samuel ben Aha (in the name of Rabba ben Ulla) countered: He appeared to him as one of the wise. (Babylonian Talmud Hullin 91a) One rabbi argues that the being is an idolater. This is in keeping with a common rabbinic theme that Esau is synonymous with Israel’s later enemies, most particularly the Romans. Another argues that he is a hacham, one of the wise. Do these two views stand in opposition?
What does this say about our identities? We are of course the descendants of Israel.
In realizing our true identity we struggle with two facets. On the one hand we wrestle with the other, the foreigner. Rabbi Samuel ben Nahmani argues that Jacob struggles against his enemies. We too battle enemies. We struggle as well to name our enemies. Is it our brother Esau?
On the other hand we fight with what we hope to be. Rabbi Samuel ben Aha sees Jacob as wrestling with a rabbinic scholar. He views the angel in his own image. Is the struggle internal or external?
A truth emerges. We can achieve a new name for ourselves by pointing at others. Or we can find our name by looking within at ourselves. Is the being our enemy? Is it instead the enemy within?
Who are our angels?
With what do we struggle?
Who are our demons?
The struggle continues. We are Israel.
Stairway to Heaven (with Apologies to Led Zeppelin)
When we last met our forefather Jacob he was busy stealing the first born birthright from his brother Esau. He conspires with his mother Rebekah to outwit his blind father, Isaac. Confused, or willfully blind and therefore party to the deception, Isaac blesses his younger son Jacob. Upon discovering this Esau vows to kill Jacob. Rebekah shouts, “Run! Get out of here. Go to your uncle’s home.”
And this is where we pick up the story. Jacob is on the run. He is on his way to Haran (in modern day Iraq) from Beersheva. He is alone. He is afraid. He stops for the night and prays the evening prayers (according to the rabbis). Jacob dreams of a ladder reaching to heaven with angels going up and down. He dreams of the Lord standing beside him. This offers Jacob reassurance.
God promises to protect him. God instructs him that his descendants will become as numerous as the dust of the earth and that the land on which he rests will become his people’s inheritance.
Jacob awakes from his dream and exclaims, “Surely the Lord is present in this place, and I did not know it! How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gateway to heaven.” (Genesis 28)
This story offers clues about how to access the divine. One seemingly small, but significant, piece of evidence can be found in the word “ladder”. In most translations sulam is rendered as ladder. Indeed in modern Hebrew this is the word used for ladder. In ancient Hebrew, however, sulam can also mean stairway.
There are significant differences between ladder and stairway.
Lots of people will not climb ladders and are even afraid of heights. In fact as I grow older I will no longer climb a ladder to clean the gutters. Now, I have to hire people to do this. Even though this was something I did with regularity, and even joy, when younger, I no longer feel confident climbing so high above the ground. A ladder is unsteady. It can be made of aluminum (or I assume, wood in ancient times) or even rope. Ladders require confidence (or perhaps youthful over-confidence) to climb. They demand a measure of courage.
Stairs by contrast are inviting. Everyone climbs stairs. You can run up them or take them slowly. You can even stop and take a rest on a step. If need be, you can take a step down before climbing back up. According to biblical scholars sulam can also be translated as ramp.
This seems a far better analogy for how we can touch God and approach the divine. This is more helpful for how we might bring holiness into our lives. It is not about courage. It is not about confidence. It is much more like the ordinary task of walking up and down steps.
You most certainly have to climb. You have to reach. You cannot sit still. You can stay in the same place. But everyone can do it.
One step at a time. Up and down. Sometimes, back down and then up again.
Stairs are within everyone’s reach. God is within everyone’s grasp.
“Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.”
And this is where we pick up the story. Jacob is on the run. He is on his way to Haran (in modern day Iraq) from Beersheva. He is alone. He is afraid. He stops for the night and prays the evening prayers (according to the rabbis). Jacob dreams of a ladder reaching to heaven with angels going up and down. He dreams of the Lord standing beside him. This offers Jacob reassurance.
God promises to protect him. God instructs him that his descendants will become as numerous as the dust of the earth and that the land on which he rests will become his people’s inheritance.
Jacob awakes from his dream and exclaims, “Surely the Lord is present in this place, and I did not know it! How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gateway to heaven.” (Genesis 28)
This story offers clues about how to access the divine. One seemingly small, but significant, piece of evidence can be found in the word “ladder”. In most translations sulam is rendered as ladder. Indeed in modern Hebrew this is the word used for ladder. In ancient Hebrew, however, sulam can also mean stairway.
There are significant differences between ladder and stairway.
Lots of people will not climb ladders and are even afraid of heights. In fact as I grow older I will no longer climb a ladder to clean the gutters. Now, I have to hire people to do this. Even though this was something I did with regularity, and even joy, when younger, I no longer feel confident climbing so high above the ground. A ladder is unsteady. It can be made of aluminum (or I assume, wood in ancient times) or even rope. Ladders require confidence (or perhaps youthful over-confidence) to climb. They demand a measure of courage.
Stairs by contrast are inviting. Everyone climbs stairs. You can run up them or take them slowly. You can even stop and take a rest on a step. If need be, you can take a step down before climbing back up. According to biblical scholars sulam can also be translated as ramp.
This seems a far better analogy for how we can touch God and approach the divine. This is more helpful for how we might bring holiness into our lives. It is not about courage. It is not about confidence. It is much more like the ordinary task of walking up and down steps.
You most certainly have to climb. You have to reach. You cannot sit still. You can stay in the same place. But everyone can do it.
One step at a time. Up and down. Sometimes, back down and then up again.
Stairs are within everyone’s reach. God is within everyone’s grasp.
“Cause you know sometimes words have two meanings.”
Prayer of Tears
The poet Mary Oliver writes:
Poems arrive ready to begin.
Poets are only the transportation.
I am transported.
It was some years ago that my friend and I were enjoying a casual summer weekend at his pool. As we watched our young children play, we stood and talked in the pool’s shallow end. I casually mentioned a story about his father and a memory I recalled. His dad had wired the house with some sort of intercoms of his own creation–long before cellphones and Walkie-Talkies.
I still remember that moment. I still recall looking into my friend’s face....
Poems arrive ready to begin.
Poets are only the transportation.
I am transported.
It was some years ago that my friend and I were enjoying a casual summer weekend at his pool. As we watched our young children play, we stood and talked in the pool’s shallow end. I casually mentioned a story about his father and a memory I recalled. His dad had wired the house with some sort of intercoms of his own creation–long before cellphones and Walkie-Talkies.
I still remember that moment. I still recall looking into my friend’s face....
Pantsuit Prayers!?
How does one pray to God?
The Rabbis respond. They offer interpretations. They search the Bible for examples. They dwell in particular on Hannah and her prayer for a child. Her words teach us how to petition God. In the Book of Samuel, which we read on Rosh Hashanah, Hannah pours out the bitterness of her soul (I Samuel 1). The Rabbis thought this to be the most heartfelt of prayers: a woman longing to give birth to a child.
Rabbi Eleazer even imagines Hannah saying:
And so Isaac prostrates himself in prayer. Both Isaac and Hannah’s prayers are answered. Each is granted a child. The prophet Samuel, who later anoints King David, is born to Hannah and Elkanah. Rebekah and Isaac are blessed with twins: Jacob and Esau.
When does Rebekah pray? Only after she conceives. She prays when she is in pain and the children struggle in her womb. She challenges God with the words, “If this is so, why do I exist? And she went to seek (l’drosh) the Lord.” (Genesis 25:22) Rebekah actively seeks out God. The image is not like that of Isaac and Hannah. Rebekah stands before God and demands that God explain her struggle. Why does it hurt so much? Why do these children fight with each other?
She calls God to account. What chutzpah! And God responds to her prayer with the words: “Two nations are in your womb, Two separate peoples shall issue from your body; One people shall be mightier than the other, And the older shall serve the younger.” (Genesis 25:23)
The response to Hannah’s prayer is a child. To Rebekah’s prayer, God offers words. God answers Rebekah’s prayer with a promise that comes to shape the destiny of her children and her children’s children. Rebekah takes these very words to heart when she instructs her son Jacob to trick Esau out of his rightful inheritance and blessing. (Genesis 27) The trickery that she masterminds is her human attempt, however flawed, to live up to the words she hears. Although she might appear conniving, and perhaps even devious, she actively struggles to fulfill God’s words.
And this is our hope as well – to struggle to live by God’s words, to discern what God wants of us. The difficulty is that while the words themselves might appear clear, what we make of them is not so obvious. We must interpret. God does not tell Rebekah how, when or where – only what. This is why we, like Rebekah, depend on study and interpretation (drash!). When we seek God, and what God wants of us, we therefore look to the Torah.
As Jews we scrutinize these words of Torah in order to decipher God’s purpose. And as Jews we must try to live by our understanding of God’s Torah.
If you desire words to live by, pray like Rebekah. If you want miracles, pray like Hannah. The choice is yours: you can be the passive recipient of God’s miracles or the active participant in shaping your destiny and the history of future generations. That is Rebekah’s mighty example! And that is the model I choose to emulate.
Telech l’drosh – go and seek God in the words of Torah. Go and interpret God’s words. Go and follow the example of Rebekah.
The Rabbis respond. They offer interpretations. They search the Bible for examples. They dwell in particular on Hannah and her prayer for a child. Her words teach us how to petition God. In the Book of Samuel, which we read on Rosh Hashanah, Hannah pours out the bitterness of her soul (I Samuel 1). The Rabbis thought this to be the most heartfelt of prayers: a woman longing to give birth to a child.
Rabbi Eleazer even imagines Hannah saying:
Sovereign of the Universe, among all the things that You have created in a woman, You have not created one without a purpose, eyes to see, ears to hear, a nose to smell, a mouth to speak, hands to work, legs with which to walk, breasts with which to nurse. (And I would add: a mind with which to think!) These breasts that You have put on my heart, are they not to nurse a child? Please, give me a child, so that I may nurture life. (Berachot 31b)We read this week about Rebekah. She too has difficulty conceiving. Unlike Hannah, she does not pray for a child. Instead it is her husband Isaac who prays. Here, the Hebrew word “to pray” is not the usual l’hitpalel – often interpreted as to examine oneself – but va-yae’tar, to supplicate. The former connotes looking into one’s soul as one reaches toward God. The latter implies the more familiar image of falling on one’s knees and calling out to God.
And so Isaac prostrates himself in prayer. Both Isaac and Hannah’s prayers are answered. Each is granted a child. The prophet Samuel, who later anoints King David, is born to Hannah and Elkanah. Rebekah and Isaac are blessed with twins: Jacob and Esau.
When does Rebekah pray? Only after she conceives. She prays when she is in pain and the children struggle in her womb. She challenges God with the words, “If this is so, why do I exist? And she went to seek (l’drosh) the Lord.” (Genesis 25:22) Rebekah actively seeks out God. The image is not like that of Isaac and Hannah. Rebekah stands before God and demands that God explain her struggle. Why does it hurt so much? Why do these children fight with each other?
She calls God to account. What chutzpah! And God responds to her prayer with the words: “Two nations are in your womb, Two separate peoples shall issue from your body; One people shall be mightier than the other, And the older shall serve the younger.” (Genesis 25:23)
The response to Hannah’s prayer is a child. To Rebekah’s prayer, God offers words. God answers Rebekah’s prayer with a promise that comes to shape the destiny of her children and her children’s children. Rebekah takes these very words to heart when she instructs her son Jacob to trick Esau out of his rightful inheritance and blessing. (Genesis 27) The trickery that she masterminds is her human attempt, however flawed, to live up to the words she hears. Although she might appear conniving, and perhaps even devious, she actively struggles to fulfill God’s words.
And this is our hope as well – to struggle to live by God’s words, to discern what God wants of us. The difficulty is that while the words themselves might appear clear, what we make of them is not so obvious. We must interpret. God does not tell Rebekah how, when or where – only what. This is why we, like Rebekah, depend on study and interpretation (drash!). When we seek God, and what God wants of us, we therefore look to the Torah.
As Jews we scrutinize these words of Torah in order to decipher God’s purpose. And as Jews we must try to live by our understanding of God’s Torah.
If you desire words to live by, pray like Rebekah. If you want miracles, pray like Hannah. The choice is yours: you can be the passive recipient of God’s miracles or the active participant in shaping your destiny and the history of future generations. That is Rebekah’s mighty example! And that is the model I choose to emulate.
Telech l’drosh – go and seek God in the words of Torah. Go and interpret God’s words. Go and follow the example of Rebekah.
Mollie, Ishmael and Making Peace
I am thinking about food, family meals and the American bounty we are about to celebrate. My Aunt Mollie comes to mind.
I have a particular vivid memory of Aunt Mollie, who was my grandmother’s younger sister. I was approximately eight years old when Aunt Mollie visited our family in St. Louis. Soon after her arrival, the house filled with the smells of stuffed peppers, stuffed artichokes, meatballs, and marinara sauce. She and my mom spent the better part of her visit in the kitchen so that she could teach her favorite niece some of her favorite, and best, recipes.
It never occurred to me to wonder how my Aunt Mollie came to master Italian cuisine. (Actually I never thought much about such culinary distinctions. It was all part of my family’s cuisine.) Some years later the secret was revealed.
When Mollie was sixteen years old she ran away from home and married Joe Ladisio, an Italian man some 25 years her senior. Imagine that! The Greenberg family came to this country in 1911. Ten years later their youngest daughter told the family she was dressing up for a job interview and instead eloped. Mollie was banished. My Nana, angry and betrayed about her sister’s lies, was forbidden from speaking to Mollie.
Some two years later, Joe reached out to Nana. Mollie was hospitalized and gravely ill. The doctors feared the worst. Miraculously she recovered, but as a consequence was never able to have children. She and Nana reconnected. Still, Aunt Mollie, and most especially Joe, was never allowed to attend family occasions. She was never again welcomed into the family home. Bubbe Sarah, the most devout member of the family, and the woman for whom I am named, ruled it was forbidden. Aunt Mollie was forever banished.
Not from my grandparent’s home. There she, and Joe, were welcome. And there she grew close to her niece, my mom. My nana never openly flouted her mother’s edict. She did not argue with her. She just quietly went about doing what she believed to be right. She refused to abandon her sister.
This week we read about the death of both Abraham and Sarah. Sarah dies first. Abraham buys the cave of Machpelah that will serve as the burial plot for all of the patriarchs and matriarchs, save Rachel. Later the Torah reports: “And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented… His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah.” (Genesis 25:8-9)
It is a curious report. Ishmael, Abraham’s son through Hagar, was banished soon after Isaac was born to Abraham and Sarah. In fact it was Sarah who insisted that Hagar and Ishmael be sent out to the desert. Miraculously, God saves them and promises that Ishmael will become a great nation. Ishmael marries an Egyptian woman and settles in the wilderness of Paran, the eastern Sinai desert. We learn little else about him.
The Torah becomes silent about Ishmael as it takes up the story of Isaac.
The divide between the descendants of Isaac, our Jewish people, and the descendants of Ishmael, our Muslim brothers, begins here. The peace that continues to elude us starts at this moment.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Ishmael reappears. The two brothers stand together. They join hands to bury their father.
How did Ishmael know about his father’s death? There is only one possible answer. Isaac informed him. Perhaps it is also possible that Isaac and Ishmael remained in touch. In defiance of their parents, or at least in defiance of Sarah, Isaac maintained contact with his brother Ishmael. I wonder if it is even possible that Abraham knowingly, although quietly, approved of his sons’ connection.
When Bubbe Sarah died, Mollie stood with her sisters and brother, and buried their mother. They once again joined hands.
Perhaps peace will come, between brothers and sisters, and between the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael. Perhaps it will come in defiance of parents.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving celebrations. Relish in family. Give thanks for the promise of America.
I have a particular vivid memory of Aunt Mollie, who was my grandmother’s younger sister. I was approximately eight years old when Aunt Mollie visited our family in St. Louis. Soon after her arrival, the house filled with the smells of stuffed peppers, stuffed artichokes, meatballs, and marinara sauce. She and my mom spent the better part of her visit in the kitchen so that she could teach her favorite niece some of her favorite, and best, recipes.
It never occurred to me to wonder how my Aunt Mollie came to master Italian cuisine. (Actually I never thought much about such culinary distinctions. It was all part of my family’s cuisine.) Some years later the secret was revealed.
When Mollie was sixteen years old she ran away from home and married Joe Ladisio, an Italian man some 25 years her senior. Imagine that! The Greenberg family came to this country in 1911. Ten years later their youngest daughter told the family she was dressing up for a job interview and instead eloped. Mollie was banished. My Nana, angry and betrayed about her sister’s lies, was forbidden from speaking to Mollie.
Some two years later, Joe reached out to Nana. Mollie was hospitalized and gravely ill. The doctors feared the worst. Miraculously she recovered, but as a consequence was never able to have children. She and Nana reconnected. Still, Aunt Mollie, and most especially Joe, was never allowed to attend family occasions. She was never again welcomed into the family home. Bubbe Sarah, the most devout member of the family, and the woman for whom I am named, ruled it was forbidden. Aunt Mollie was forever banished.
Not from my grandparent’s home. There she, and Joe, were welcome. And there she grew close to her niece, my mom. My nana never openly flouted her mother’s edict. She did not argue with her. She just quietly went about doing what she believed to be right. She refused to abandon her sister.
This week we read about the death of both Abraham and Sarah. Sarah dies first. Abraham buys the cave of Machpelah that will serve as the burial plot for all of the patriarchs and matriarchs, save Rachel. Later the Torah reports: “And Abraham breathed his last, dying at a good ripe age, old and contented… His sons Isaac and Ishmael buried him in the cave of Machpelah.” (Genesis 25:8-9)
It is a curious report. Ishmael, Abraham’s son through Hagar, was banished soon after Isaac was born to Abraham and Sarah. In fact it was Sarah who insisted that Hagar and Ishmael be sent out to the desert. Miraculously, God saves them and promises that Ishmael will become a great nation. Ishmael marries an Egyptian woman and settles in the wilderness of Paran, the eastern Sinai desert. We learn little else about him.
The Torah becomes silent about Ishmael as it takes up the story of Isaac.
The divide between the descendants of Isaac, our Jewish people, and the descendants of Ishmael, our Muslim brothers, begins here. The peace that continues to elude us starts at this moment.
And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Ishmael reappears. The two brothers stand together. They join hands to bury their father.
How did Ishmael know about his father’s death? There is only one possible answer. Isaac informed him. Perhaps it is also possible that Isaac and Ishmael remained in touch. In defiance of their parents, or at least in defiance of Sarah, Isaac maintained contact with his brother Ishmael. I wonder if it is even possible that Abraham knowingly, although quietly, approved of his sons’ connection.
When Bubbe Sarah died, Mollie stood with her sisters and brother, and buried their mother. They once again joined hands.
Perhaps peace will come, between brothers and sisters, and between the descendants of Isaac and Ishmael. Perhaps it will come in defiance of parents.
Enjoy your Thanksgiving celebrations. Relish in family. Give thanks for the promise of America.
Paved with Gold
I retreat to the Torah. It is a welcome distraction from the news and our country’s painful divisions.
This week we read about the destruction of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. They are marked by sinfulness. As in the story of Noah, God decides to start all over and destroy these cities. Again God shares the plan with a chosen, and trusted, person. This time it is Abraham. God says, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?” (Genesis 18:17)
God reveals the plan to Abraham. But Abraham pleads in behalf of the people. Abraham argues (and negotiates) with God exacting a promise that if ten righteous people can be found then the cities should be saved. In the end Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed. By the way, some suggest this number ten is the origin of ten for a minyan.
And yet the Torah is unclear about what they did that was so terrible. What were their sins? We are given only hints. “The outrage of Sodom and Gomorrah is so great, and their sin so grave!” (Genesis 18:20) Throughout the ages commentators have suggested that the inhabitants were guilty of sexual depravity. They cite as evidence the accompanying story that the townspeople attempt to rape the divine messengers who visit Lot, a resident of Sodom and a nephew of Abraham. This explains the English term “sodomy.”
Later the prophet Ezekiel offers more detail: “Only this was the sin of your sister city Sodom: arrogance! She and her daughters had plenty of bread and untroubled tranquility; yet she did not support the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49) He sees their sin in social terms. The cities were destroyed because of their failure to reach out to the needy and most vulnerable. There was plenty of food to share and yet they kept it all to themselves.
They were arrogant. They felt themselves superior.
The rabbis expand upon the prophet Ezekiel’s understanding. They saw the cities’ sinfulness in their treatment of others, most especially their failure to fulfill the mitzvah of hospitality and welcoming the stranger. They argue that this sin would have been understandable if Sodom and Gomorrah were poor cities, but they were in fact wealthy. The rabbis weave a midrashic story describing the streets of these cities as paved with gold (my grandfather’s goldene medina!). In addition the rabbis taught, the cities’ inhabitants flooded the cities’ entrances in an effort to prevent strangers from entering and finding refuge there.
In the rabbinic imagination, the cities were destroyed because of their own moral lapses. They were affluent. There was plenty of food for them to eat. Yet they did not share it with anyone. They hoarded it for themselves. They prevented strangers from entering their cities. They thought only of their own welfare and their own livelihood.
Rabbi Gunther Plaut argues: “The treatment accorded newcomers and strangers was then and may always be considered a touchstone of the community’s moral condition.”
And I am left to wonder. Can any retreat be found?
I search in vain for distractions.
The Torah only speaks of today. It only speaks to today.
That is its most important, and powerful, voice.
This week we read about the destruction of the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. They are marked by sinfulness. As in the story of Noah, God decides to start all over and destroy these cities. Again God shares the plan with a chosen, and trusted, person. This time it is Abraham. God says, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do?” (Genesis 18:17)
God reveals the plan to Abraham. But Abraham pleads in behalf of the people. Abraham argues (and negotiates) with God exacting a promise that if ten righteous people can be found then the cities should be saved. In the end Sodom and Gomorrah are destroyed. By the way, some suggest this number ten is the origin of ten for a minyan.
And yet the Torah is unclear about what they did that was so terrible. What were their sins? We are given only hints. “The outrage of Sodom and Gomorrah is so great, and their sin so grave!” (Genesis 18:20) Throughout the ages commentators have suggested that the inhabitants were guilty of sexual depravity. They cite as evidence the accompanying story that the townspeople attempt to rape the divine messengers who visit Lot, a resident of Sodom and a nephew of Abraham. This explains the English term “sodomy.”
Later the prophet Ezekiel offers more detail: “Only this was the sin of your sister city Sodom: arrogance! She and her daughters had plenty of bread and untroubled tranquility; yet she did not support the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49) He sees their sin in social terms. The cities were destroyed because of their failure to reach out to the needy and most vulnerable. There was plenty of food to share and yet they kept it all to themselves.
They were arrogant. They felt themselves superior.
The rabbis expand upon the prophet Ezekiel’s understanding. They saw the cities’ sinfulness in their treatment of others, most especially their failure to fulfill the mitzvah of hospitality and welcoming the stranger. They argue that this sin would have been understandable if Sodom and Gomorrah were poor cities, but they were in fact wealthy. The rabbis weave a midrashic story describing the streets of these cities as paved with gold (my grandfather’s goldene medina!). In addition the rabbis taught, the cities’ inhabitants flooded the cities’ entrances in an effort to prevent strangers from entering and finding refuge there.
In the rabbinic imagination, the cities were destroyed because of their own moral lapses. They were affluent. There was plenty of food for them to eat. Yet they did not share it with anyone. They hoarded it for themselves. They prevented strangers from entering their cities. They thought only of their own welfare and their own livelihood.
Rabbi Gunther Plaut argues: “The treatment accorded newcomers and strangers was then and may always be considered a touchstone of the community’s moral condition.”
And I am left to wonder. Can any retreat be found?
I search in vain for distractions.
The Torah only speaks of today. It only speaks to today.
That is its most important, and powerful, voice.
Like It or Not, It's Still Mr. President
Let me offer three observations about the election now concluded and our soon to be 45th president, Donald Trump.
1. Despite the overwhelming victory for Republican candidates, we are a divided nation. Look to the popular vote. In 2008 President Obama defeated Senator McCain by some ten million votes. In 2012 he won by approximately five million. Secretary Clinton won by less than 200,000 votes, as of this writing.
I have read many commentators, and protestors, who now wish to do away with the Electoral College because Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. They comfort themselves by saying that if you factor in the approximate five million votes for third party candidates you realize the majority of Americans did not vote for Donald Trump. They leave out the fact that the majority of Americans did not then vote for Clinton as well.
For me I read these numbers as evidence of how divided we are. 200,000 out of 60 million is no victory. We are a divided nation. There are some 60 million fellow Americans whose views are not my own, whose visions are not in keeping with my commitments. In the days prior to the election I felt otherwise. I imagine that many of you did as well. That was because we were only listening to other like-minded friends.
Remember that ancient rabbinic text about Hillel and Shammai? Jewish law follows Rabbi Hillel because when he taught, he always shared the opposing view of Rabbi Shammai first. Perhaps we need to forward to friends articles we disagree with. Rather than sitting in front of our computers, and reading our Facebook feeds, and nodding in agreement and liking our friends’ posts, we need to seek out opposing views. We need to engage divergent opinions, if for no other reason than to refine our own.
2. I hope and pray that President Trump is different than candidate Trump. I remain troubled by some of his campaign pledges and rhetoric. If President Trump seeks to codify some of his more bellicose statements, then you will see me protesting these policies. If he attempts to deport my neighbors and immigrant friends then I will rise up in their defense. I wish to live my life as a testament to my immigrant grandparents. My experiences are separated from my neighbors (and yes I do mean Muslim, Latino, Sikh, Asian, Hindu and the many others that call America home) but by two generations. I believe our nation is great because it is a living tapestry of color and culture. I am convinced this is the source of our strength, never our weakness.
If President Trump attempts to roll back LGBTQ rights, if he seeks to erase the gains of Roe v. Wade, if he announces plans to undo the small steps undertaken to fight climate change, then again I will raise my voice. If he continues to allow antisemitism to go un-criticized, then I will not remain silent. It is my right to protest. It is my right to criticize the president’s policies. In case one forgets, I have offered criticisms of both Democratic and Republican presidents. This is our right—and our duty—as Americans. Donald Trump will be our president. He is our nation’s choice. That does not mean we must remain silent—when we disagree. That also does not mean that we can say he is not my president if I did not vote for him. To respect our nation’s institutions means that we must accept the decision of our fellow Americans, even, or perhaps most especially when it is different than our own. I will not scream that the election results are unjust. I will not say as others said to me these past eight years about President Obama, “He ain’t my president.”
That will lead nowhere. The Electoral College is how we do things. Instead, I resolve that come four years from now I will not draw so much comfort from my far too many likeminded friends’ posts. I will not nod in agreement as I read yet another missive that affirms my views. Instead I will march off to Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania or wherever the battleground states might be and I will work to make it easier for all to vote. I will work (although I am not sure how yet) to alleviate the simmering anger that Donald Trump so masterfully tapped.
There is a lot of hurt in our country—and I don’t mean the hurt of seeing your candidate defeated. We need to do a lot more “praying with our feet” as Abraham Joshua Heschel once said. Nothing will ever be solved by blaming others, by scapegoating this or that group. We can only be healed by the recognition that red or blue should never be our primary identification.
3. I will pray for President Trump’s success. I may like him. I may not. You may like him. You may not. He is, however, the president for all of us—those who voted for him and those who voted against him and even those who did not vote. Our tradition demands that we pray for the President of the United States. I pray. May President Trump be blessed with wisdom and patience. May he be quick to forgive and slow to anger. May he listen to the counsel of both Republicans and Democrats. May he become a great president for all Americans.
This week we read about the first Jew, Abraham. He is called by God to be the leader of the Jewish nation. It is unclear why he is called. The Torah tells us very little about him before the moment of his call. The rabbis suggest that God saw in him glimmers of the belief in one God. They wrote a story about him working in his father Terah’s idol shop. You know the story. He smashes the idols because he think it is silly to pray to statues. Most forget that this story is nowhere found in the Torah.
The call comes out of nowhere. He is called to greatness not by birth or belief but by circumstance. He is not a calculating politician, and schemer, like many believe Hillary Clinton to be (or I would add, King David most certainly was) but is called. Abraham is not called because he is great. He becomes great.
Many people, like the Torah, gravitate toward the outsider. That was most definitely part of President Obama’s appeal. And that is most certainly the image Donald Trump fashioned about himself. People are moved by the story of an outsider—most especially when they feel pushed outside.
This leads me to my prayer—and one that I hope all of us can share. May President Trump become great—for all Americans.
1. Despite the overwhelming victory for Republican candidates, we are a divided nation. Look to the popular vote. In 2008 President Obama defeated Senator McCain by some ten million votes. In 2012 he won by approximately five million. Secretary Clinton won by less than 200,000 votes, as of this writing.
I have read many commentators, and protestors, who now wish to do away with the Electoral College because Hillary Clinton won the popular vote. They comfort themselves by saying that if you factor in the approximate five million votes for third party candidates you realize the majority of Americans did not vote for Donald Trump. They leave out the fact that the majority of Americans did not then vote for Clinton as well.
For me I read these numbers as evidence of how divided we are. 200,000 out of 60 million is no victory. We are a divided nation. There are some 60 million fellow Americans whose views are not my own, whose visions are not in keeping with my commitments. In the days prior to the election I felt otherwise. I imagine that many of you did as well. That was because we were only listening to other like-minded friends.
Remember that ancient rabbinic text about Hillel and Shammai? Jewish law follows Rabbi Hillel because when he taught, he always shared the opposing view of Rabbi Shammai first. Perhaps we need to forward to friends articles we disagree with. Rather than sitting in front of our computers, and reading our Facebook feeds, and nodding in agreement and liking our friends’ posts, we need to seek out opposing views. We need to engage divergent opinions, if for no other reason than to refine our own.
2. I hope and pray that President Trump is different than candidate Trump. I remain troubled by some of his campaign pledges and rhetoric. If President Trump seeks to codify some of his more bellicose statements, then you will see me protesting these policies. If he attempts to deport my neighbors and immigrant friends then I will rise up in their defense. I wish to live my life as a testament to my immigrant grandparents. My experiences are separated from my neighbors (and yes I do mean Muslim, Latino, Sikh, Asian, Hindu and the many others that call America home) but by two generations. I believe our nation is great because it is a living tapestry of color and culture. I am convinced this is the source of our strength, never our weakness.
If President Trump attempts to roll back LGBTQ rights, if he seeks to erase the gains of Roe v. Wade, if he announces plans to undo the small steps undertaken to fight climate change, then again I will raise my voice. If he continues to allow antisemitism to go un-criticized, then I will not remain silent. It is my right to protest. It is my right to criticize the president’s policies. In case one forgets, I have offered criticisms of both Democratic and Republican presidents. This is our right—and our duty—as Americans. Donald Trump will be our president. He is our nation’s choice. That does not mean we must remain silent—when we disagree. That also does not mean that we can say he is not my president if I did not vote for him. To respect our nation’s institutions means that we must accept the decision of our fellow Americans, even, or perhaps most especially when it is different than our own. I will not scream that the election results are unjust. I will not say as others said to me these past eight years about President Obama, “He ain’t my president.”
That will lead nowhere. The Electoral College is how we do things. Instead, I resolve that come four years from now I will not draw so much comfort from my far too many likeminded friends’ posts. I will not nod in agreement as I read yet another missive that affirms my views. Instead I will march off to Ohio, Michigan, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania or wherever the battleground states might be and I will work to make it easier for all to vote. I will work (although I am not sure how yet) to alleviate the simmering anger that Donald Trump so masterfully tapped.
There is a lot of hurt in our country—and I don’t mean the hurt of seeing your candidate defeated. We need to do a lot more “praying with our feet” as Abraham Joshua Heschel once said. Nothing will ever be solved by blaming others, by scapegoating this or that group. We can only be healed by the recognition that red or blue should never be our primary identification.
3. I will pray for President Trump’s success. I may like him. I may not. You may like him. You may not. He is, however, the president for all of us—those who voted for him and those who voted against him and even those who did not vote. Our tradition demands that we pray for the President of the United States. I pray. May President Trump be blessed with wisdom and patience. May he be quick to forgive and slow to anger. May he listen to the counsel of both Republicans and Democrats. May he become a great president for all Americans.
This week we read about the first Jew, Abraham. He is called by God to be the leader of the Jewish nation. It is unclear why he is called. The Torah tells us very little about him before the moment of his call. The rabbis suggest that God saw in him glimmers of the belief in one God. They wrote a story about him working in his father Terah’s idol shop. You know the story. He smashes the idols because he think it is silly to pray to statues. Most forget that this story is nowhere found in the Torah.
The call comes out of nowhere. He is called to greatness not by birth or belief but by circumstance. He is not a calculating politician, and schemer, like many believe Hillary Clinton to be (or I would add, King David most certainly was) but is called. Abraham is not called because he is great. He becomes great.
Many people, like the Torah, gravitate toward the outsider. That was most definitely part of President Obama’s appeal. And that is most certainly the image Donald Trump fashioned about himself. People are moved by the story of an outsider—most especially when they feel pushed outside.
This leads me to my prayer—and one that I hope all of us can share. May President Trump become great—for all Americans.
American Dreaming
The Internet is an angry place.
I find myself retreating to my dreams.
And I am dreaming about my grandfather.
In my grandfather’s final week, after he was hospitalized by a stroke, I would read the day’s newspapers to him. I would first read the headlines. He would then indicate which article I was to read out loud, with the specific instruction that I always read the designated article to the very last sentence. We would then discuss the article. We would analyze it. We would sometimes disagree. More often than not I would listen to his thoughts, to the wisdom of his 86 years, to his many years living in this country and taking in the American political scene.
Today I would not know where to begin....
I find myself retreating to my dreams.
And I am dreaming about my grandfather.
In my grandfather’s final week, after he was hospitalized by a stroke, I would read the day’s newspapers to him. I would first read the headlines. He would then indicate which article I was to read out loud, with the specific instruction that I always read the designated article to the very last sentence. We would then discuss the article. We would analyze it. We would sometimes disagree. More often than not I would listen to his thoughts, to the wisdom of his 86 years, to his many years living in this country and taking in the American political scene.
Today I would not know where to begin....
God's Mirror
When does a child become self-aware?
When a child first sees himself in a mirror he touches the mirror. He does not know it is his reflection. Later, around the age of two, when the child looks in the mirror she instead touches her face. In that moment her self-identity begins to take shape. The child says, “I.” Self-awareness begins to form.
In Hebrew “Ani” means “I.” This word does not appear in the Torah until this week. There appears little self-awareness exhibited by Adam and Eve, who are unaware of their nakedness and blame each other, as well as God, for their own failings. There is plenty of “you” but no “I.” Cain and Abel are so lacking in introspection that they do not understand the pain they cause each other, leading to the first murder.
And then the “I” appears....
This post continues on Patheos.
When a child first sees himself in a mirror he touches the mirror. He does not know it is his reflection. Later, around the age of two, when the child looks in the mirror she instead touches her face. In that moment her self-identity begins to take shape. The child says, “I.” Self-awareness begins to form.
In Hebrew “Ani” means “I.” This word does not appear in the Torah until this week. There appears little self-awareness exhibited by Adam and Eve, who are unaware of their nakedness and blame each other, as well as God, for their own failings. There is plenty of “you” but no “I.” Cain and Abel are so lacking in introspection that they do not understand the pain they cause each other, leading to the first murder.
And then the “I” appears....
This post continues on Patheos.
When the Student is the Teacher
In the Jewish tradition we read the concluding words of the Book of Deuteronomy, and then without skipping a beat open to the first chapter of Genesis. We read about Moses’ death and then in our next breath, the creation of the world. This is how we order our year. This is how we read our lives.
Several years ago a close family friend died. Throughout his many years, Jerry served as a mentor. Recently his grandson, with whom I, as well as my son Ari, have now grown close, shared a surprising discovery. When he, and his family, searched through his grandfather’s library they came across a stack of letters, a pile of correspondence between Jerry and me. He scanned the letters to his computer and emailed them to me.
There, these pages remained. Yesterday I began to read, and reread, the letters. Their meaning was unfurled...
This post continues on The Wisdom Daily.
Several years ago a close family friend died. Throughout his many years, Jerry served as a mentor. Recently his grandson, with whom I, as well as my son Ari, have now grown close, shared a surprising discovery. When he, and his family, searched through his grandfather’s library they came across a stack of letters, a pile of correspondence between Jerry and me. He scanned the letters to his computer and emailed them to me.
There, these pages remained. Yesterday I began to read, and reread, the letters. Their meaning was unfurled...
This post continues on The Wisdom Daily.
Five Lessons in Democracy
At last night's debate, and throughout the prior week, Donald Trump suggested that he would not accept the results of the upcoming election--that is I presume assuming that Hillary Clinton wins and he loses. I have often believed, and taught, that the greatest lessons in our American democracy can be discovered in the concession speeches of those who lose. They speak about the values we hold dear. The victor speaks about grand promises, many of which go unfulfilled. The losing candidate leans on the values that hold us together.
And so in order to restore my faith in American democracy I reread those concession speeches--at least as far back as the 1996 election. Here are the highlights, with some of my own commentary and of course rankings.
5. Bob Dole said in 1996:
Let me say that I talked to President Clinton. We had a good visit. I congratulated him. I have said repeatedly in this campaign that the president was my opponent not my enemy. And I wish him well and I pledge my support in whatever advances the cause of a better America, because that's what the race was about in the first place, a better America as we go into the next century.4. Mitt Romney said in 2012:
And we look to Democrats and Republicans in government at all levels to put the people before the politics.A theme emerges. Partisanship must give way to citizenship. A basic tenet of our democracy is that the results of the election are accepted by the defeated. That is how the country moves forward--even after bitter debates and divisive campaigns.
I believe in America. I believe in the people of America.
And I ran for office because I'm concerned about America. This election is over, but our principles endure. I believe that the principles upon which this nation was founded are the only sure guide to a resurgent economy and to a new greatness.
3. John Kerry said in 2004:
But in an American election, there are no losers. Because whether or not our candidates are successful, the next morning, we all wake up as Americans. And that - that is the greatest privilege and the most remarkable good fortune that can come to us on earth.
With that gift also comes obligation. We are required now to work together for the good of our country. In the days ahead, we must find common cause. We must join in common effort without remorse or recrimination, without anger or rancor. America is in need of unity and longing for a larger measure of compassion.
I hope President Bush will advance those values in the coming years.
I pledge to do my part to try to bridge the partisan divide. I know this is a difficult time for my supporters. But I ask them - all of you - to join me in doing that.
2. Al Gore said in 2000:
Almost a century and a half ago, Senator Stephen Douglas told Abraham Lincoln, who had just defeated him for the presidency, ''Partisan feeling must yield to patriotism. I'm with you, Mr. President, and God bless you.'' Well, in that same spirit, I say to President-elect Bush that what remains of partisan rancor must now be put aside, and may God bless his stewardship of this country.
Neither he nor I anticipated this long and difficult road. Certainly neither of us wanted it to happen. Yet it came, and now it has ended, resolved, as it must be resolved, through the honored institutions of our democracy.
One can probably argue, as Michael Moore undoubtedly has, that there were irregularities in how Florida conducted its recount of the ballots, but Al Gore chose the good of the country and faith in our nation's institutions over winning.
And the top concession speech of the past five elections goes to:
1. John McCain, who said in 2008:
And the top concession speech of the past five elections goes to:
1. John McCain, who said in 2008:
I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our goodwill and earnest effort to find ways to come together, to find the necessary compromises, to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited.I still recall how John McCain hushed and castigated those who booed the mention of Barack Obama's name. He understood what it means to serve America.
Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that.
It is natural tonight to feel some disappointment, but tomorrow we must move beyond it and work together to get our country moving again. We fought — we fought as hard as we could.
And though we fell short, the failure is mine, not yours.
Tonight — tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Senator Obama, I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president.
I continue to find great inspiration in these words. Al Gore reminded us to have faith in this country's institutions in particular the Supreme Court. John McCain taught us that no matter one's party affiliation or ideology the winner of the November election is our president.
Can our faith be restored? I keep reading. I remind myself of recent history.
I am reminded that more is learned about a person's character, and the values they most cherish, in what might have seemed to be their lowest moments, when they faced failure.
And so for good measure, reread Hillary Clinton's concession to Barack Obama after the hard fought 2008 Democratic primary. She believed the nomination was hers. She appeared to think that it was due to her. Listen to how she deals with failure.
Hillary Clinton said the following when she lost the Democratic nomination:
It really is supposed to be about the country. Whoever wins the election is who the electorate feels is best suited to lead our nation for the next four years. That is why we vote. And that is why we argue passionately about the candidates up until that day. That is also why come January 20th we must rise up--together, at least that is what we are called to do--and offer praise to the 45th president of the United States.
I still believe in America. I continue to believe.
Can our faith be restored? I keep reading. I remind myself of recent history.
I am reminded that more is learned about a person's character, and the values they most cherish, in what might have seemed to be their lowest moments, when they faced failure.
And so for good measure, reread Hillary Clinton's concession to Barack Obama after the hard fought 2008 Democratic primary. She believed the nomination was hers. She appeared to think that it was due to her. Listen to how she deals with failure.
Hillary Clinton said the following when she lost the Democratic nomination:
I entered this race because I have an old-fashioned conviction that public service is about helping people solve their problems and live their dreams. I've had every opportunity and blessing in my own life, and I want the same for all Americans.Of course one can argue that she had no other choice. She is a politician and she wished to remain in politics. And yet we find again and again, most especially in the midst of defeat, reminders of what is ennobling about our democracy and its institutions. It sure can be a messy process getting to November 8th, but we must forever hold on to these values.
And until that day comes, you'll always find me on the front lines of democracy, fighting for the future.
The way to continue our fight now, to accomplish the goals for which we stand is to take our energy, our passion, our strength, and do all we can to help elect Barack Obama, the next president of the United States.
Today, as I suspend my campaign, I congratulate him on the victory he has won and the extraordinary race he has run. I endorse him and throw my full support behind him.
It really is supposed to be about the country. Whoever wins the election is who the electorate feels is best suited to lead our nation for the next four years. That is why we vote. And that is why we argue passionately about the candidates up until that day. That is also why come January 20th we must rise up--together, at least that is what we are called to do--and offer praise to the 45th president of the United States.
I still believe in America. I continue to believe.
Simhat Torah's Party
We are nearing the conclusion of the Tishrei marathon. We observed Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot and very soon, Simhat Torah. We travel from personal introspection and repentance to fasting and the recounting of our many failings to the wandering and fragility of temporary booths to the joy and dancing of Simhat Torah.
We celebrate the conclusion of the Torah reading cycle and its simultaneous beginning. On this day we begin the cycle all over again. We believe that everything we ever wanted to know is in this scroll. It is only perhaps a matter of reading it at a different angle if the wisdom is not immediately apparent.
This is because all wisdom is contained in this book. That is our Jewish faith. This day is therefore cause for great celebration. Simhat Torah is the quintessential Jewish holiday. It is about dancing and singing. And these more than anything else are more the Jewish postures than the fasting and litany of sins on Yom Kippur. We are supposed to celebrate. We are commanded to rejoice. Too bad that we find the fasting and praying of Yom Kippur more compelling than the joy and celebration of Simhat Torah.
In fact the Talmud Yerushalmi states that we will be held to account for all the joys we neglected to celebrate. When we approach the heavenly court we will be asked in effect, “Did we rejoice enough?” Did we party enough? That in a nutshell is the Jewish message. Revel in life. Celebrate life. Most especially celebrate the gift of Torah. And never pass up an opportunity to join a party.
May this year offer us many opportunities to celebrate. May this year offer us many opportunities to drink in the wisdom of Torah.
We celebrate the conclusion of the Torah reading cycle and its simultaneous beginning. On this day we begin the cycle all over again. We believe that everything we ever wanted to know is in this scroll. It is only perhaps a matter of reading it at a different angle if the wisdom is not immediately apparent.
This is because all wisdom is contained in this book. That is our Jewish faith. This day is therefore cause for great celebration. Simhat Torah is the quintessential Jewish holiday. It is about dancing and singing. And these more than anything else are more the Jewish postures than the fasting and litany of sins on Yom Kippur. We are supposed to celebrate. We are commanded to rejoice. Too bad that we find the fasting and praying of Yom Kippur more compelling than the joy and celebration of Simhat Torah.
In fact the Talmud Yerushalmi states that we will be held to account for all the joys we neglected to celebrate. When we approach the heavenly court we will be asked in effect, “Did we rejoice enough?” Did we party enough? That in a nutshell is the Jewish message. Revel in life. Celebrate life. Most especially celebrate the gift of Torah. And never pass up an opportunity to join a party.
May this year offer us many opportunities to celebrate. May this year offer us many opportunities to drink in the wisdom of Torah.
UNESCO's Every Grain of Sand
Elie Wiesel said: “[T]hen, too, there are the Palestinians to whose plight I am sensitive but whose methods I deplore. Violence and terrorism are not the answer. Something must be done about their suffering, and soon. “
Once again Palestinian methods diminish the justice of their cause.
Terrorism continues. And then yesterday, the United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) whose motto is “Building peace in the minds of men and women,” affirmed a biased anti-Israel, and antisemitic, statement about Jerusalem. In particular this statement, which was fashioned by Palestinian and Arab leaders, recognizes the Muslim connection to Jerusalem but is silent about the Jewish attachment to the holy city. It denies our historical connection to the Temple Mount....
This post continues on The Times of Israel.
Once again Palestinian methods diminish the justice of their cause.
Terrorism continues. And then yesterday, the United Nations Education, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) whose motto is “Building peace in the minds of men and women,” affirmed a biased anti-Israel, and antisemitic, statement about Jerusalem. In particular this statement, which was fashioned by Palestinian and Arab leaders, recognizes the Muslim connection to Jerusalem but is silent about the Jewish attachment to the holy city. It denies our historical connection to the Temple Mount....
This post continues on The Times of Israel.