Israel Trip, Day Two

It’s a little after midnight Wednesday morning in Israel. About twenty five minutes ago I was awakened by a loud announcement over our hotel’s PA instructing everyone to go immediately to the shelter on your corridor and wait there until further notice. We stayed about ten or fifteen minutes and then were allowed back to our rooms. Meanwhile the app on my cell phone which goes off every time there is a missile warning has been going off pretty steadily.

When the day started it did not seem likely that it would end in this way. Israel and Hamas had agreed to extend their five day ceasefire for another 24 hours while negotiations continued and an agreement seemed in sight. We started the morning by traveling to Ashdod to see the Iron Dome battery there. We were met by General (Res.) Israel Shafir who explained to us how the Iron Dome works and how it fits in with Israel’s overall defense system. We learned, among other things, that the Iron Dome system allows rockets that it knows will land harmlessly in vacant areas to do so, since each missile the system shoots costs $50,000. Gen. Shafir, a former fighter pilot (he was one of the pilots who took place in Israel’s raid on the Iraqi nuclear reactor back in the 1980s) also explained how a fighter pilot decides whether or not to take out a target. He told us that the IDF attacks military targets exclusively and will call off an attack if the likelihood of many civilian casualties is present. He impressed me with his statement that preservation of human life, Israeli or Palestinian, is a key Jewish value and that failure to attempt to do so undermines the basic reason for Israel to exist -- which is to preserve not only Jewish lives but Jewish culture and values.

From Ashdod we traveled to the field encampment of the 55th Artillery Brigade, where we met with it’s commander, Lt. Col Gadi Dror. Col, Dror is the son of Rabbi Gilah Dror, the first Israeli woman rabbi to head her own congregation. He walked us through how he determines whether or not to target a certain objective, and again how he tries very hard to minimize civilian losses and will call off an attack when necessary.

We traveled to Masorti (Conservative) congregations in Ashkelon, Beersheva and Omer and learned of how the war has affected them. We learned, for example, that 80 percent of the Masorti Movement’s activities consist in community service and not what we might consider specifically “religious” activities. All the summer camps and classes were cancelled because it is not permitted to hold any activity that will attract more people than can fit in the nearest shelter. I was impressed by the dignified way our hosts are attempting to live as normal a life as possible and how grateful they were that we were there. When we got to Omer, a suburb of Beersheva, we learned that while we were in the Beersheva Conservative synagogue three rockets had fallen nearby without hurting anyone. Shortly thereafter we heard the engines of the fighter jets headed towards Gaza.

We left the South and headed to Modiin, a new city halfway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. We went to the Masorti synagogue there to be addressed by Rachel Frankel, whose son Naftali was one of the three teens kidnapped and subsequently killed, which set in motion the series of actions which led to this war. Rabbanit Frankel is a leading Orthodox feminist and teaches advanced Talmud in Orthodox women’s yeshivot. She set an Israeli precedent when she rose with her husband and oldest son to say Kaddish at Naftali’s funeral.

I cannot begin to put into words how meaningful this meeting was. Mrs. Frankel, despite her suffering, is a person of joy and deep spirituality. She and her family reached out to the family of the Palestinian teenager who was tortured and murdered by Jews in a “revenge attack” after the bodies of the three boys were found. It was really an honor to meet with her.

Tomorrow -- or I guess actually later today -- we will meet some top Israeli political figures, conditions permitting. We’ll also hear from Prof. Asa Kasher who wrote the Israeli Defense Forces’ Code of Ethics.

If you are my Facebook friend, our bus is equipped with WiFi and I am posting pictures and brief updates throughout the day -- feel free to check it out.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem!

Israel Trip, Day One

Shalom from Jerusalem. It’s just after 10 pm here as I write this and I have been up for 34 hours straight so I will keep this short. I hope to write something longer tomorrow night.

The most recent ceasefire between Israel ahd Hamas expires in less than two hours and no one knows for sure what will happen. Israel’s Channel 2 news is reporting that the Palestinian  media are reporting that an agreement has been reached but there is no official word from anyone. Prime Minister Netanyahu says that Israel will not be the one to open fire but that if the Palestinians launch rockets again, Israel will respond strongly.

A few quick thoughts from Jerusalem. It’s seven years since I’ve last been in Israel and the face of Jerusalem has changed tremendously. There is a massive new commercial district called Mamilla Mall right around the corner from my hotel which leads all the way to the Jaffa Gate. Jaffa Road, a main commercial thoroughfare, is now car-free below King George Street except for the new, sleek, and very popular Light Rail. Both changes make the city more pleasant to stroll around.

Tourism is way down and a lot of businesses which depend on tourism are hurting. The El Al flight over was far from full. There was a birthright israel group from Northwestern University on the flight and the young woman sitting near me told me that of the original 40 who had signed up for the trip, only 22 wound up going. When we got to Ben Gurion airport, there were five lanes open for Israeli passport holders and only two for holders of other passports, a clear indication that most arriving passengers are Israelis rather than tourists. One of the rabbis in our group said that a Family Tour including three B’nai Mitzvah was supposed to take place this week, but was cancelled, so he and his wife came by themselves. Another indication that tourism is down: waiters, cashiers and taxi drivers have all addressed me in Hebrew rather than English, which means they assume anyone here is not a tourist. Ben Yehuda Street, usually packed, is, while not exactly empty, far from full.

I was able to catch up today with a few Israeli friends and their feeling is very pessimistic. Tonight our group was addressed by Dr. Shlomo Avineri, a winner of the Israel Prize, past Director General of the Israeli Foreign Ministry and one of the architects of the Oslo Accords. He, too, is very pessimistic about any agreement between Israel and the Palestinians being achieved any time soon. He told us he still believes that the ultimate resolution lies in the creation of an Israeli and Palestinian State living side by side, but this is going to take a long, long, time.

Our itinerary is changing as the security situation changes. The latest version of our itinerary which we received today -- version 18 -- was obsolete even before we received it. We were supposed to go to Ashkelon tomorrow to tour the Iron Dome battery there, but late this afternoon the Army decided that wasn’t safe so we are going to the Ashdod Iron Dome instead -- assuming it’s safe to do so. We’ll be visiting Masorti (Conservative) congregations in the areas which have been hardest hit by Hamas missiles and learning about their situation. Tomorrow night we’ll have dinner with former Knesset Member Einat Wilf, who served on the Defense and Foreign Affairs committee. Before that, we will meet Rabbanit Rachael Frankel, whose son Naftali of blessed memory was one of the three teenagers kidnapped and killed in June by Hamas terrorists.

If you are on Facebook, go to my page to see some pictures from today. When I’ve had more sleep I’ll figure out a way to share them more conveniently.

Shalom from Jerusalem,

Rabbi Charles L. Arian

Transparency

This week's Torah reading emphasizes the need for transparency in financial matters relating to the maintenance of our religious institutions. This reading concludes the Book of Exodus. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks calls it "the accountant's parasha" because it begins with the audited accounts of the donations received and materials used in the construction of the Tabernacle.

Depending on how the calendar works out, we often read Pekudei along with the special haftarah for Shabbat Shekalim, as we do this year. In ancient days, every male between the ages of 20 and 50 was required to give precisely one half shekel every year for maintenance of the Tabernacle and subsequently the Temple. (This tax also served as a census of sorts -- the Torah prohibits taking an actual census -- since the number of half-shekels received equaled the number of men who were considered of military age.) The tax was collected at the beginning of the month of Nisan (the month when Passover occurs) and so was announced on the Shabbat nearest the beginning of the prior month, Adar.

The Haftarah reading, from the book of Second Kings, describes a conflict which occurred between King Jehoash and the priests over the use of donations to the Temple. The priests were supposed to take any money donated and use it for repair and maintenance of the Temple. Jehoash discovered that, while they were taking the money, they weren't making the repairs. When Jehoash discovered this, he took responsibility for Temple maintenance away from the priests. They could continue to receive the tithes which the Torah mandated, which were necessary for their own support. But freewill donations for Temple maintenance and repair were now to go specifically to trustworthy and accountable men appointed by the king to oversee that function.

The Torah is quite clear on the need for transparency and accountability. When people are asked to give money, they have a right to know why the money is needed and how it is going to be spent. At times, leaders are afraid that such transparency will undermine the confidence of members or donors and make it harder to raise funds. But I believe the opposite is true. Greater transparency will only serve to give synagogue members more confidence that their money is being spent wisely. I am pleased that this is the path we have chosen at Kehilat Shalom.

"Anyone Who Works on the Sabbath Shall Be Put to Death"

The beginning of this week’s Torah reading is another example of a text that would seem very harsh if understood literally. Exodus 35:2 says “On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a holy sabbath of complete rest before the LORD; anyone who does any work on it shall be put to death.”

Those who were present this past Shabbat may recall we discussed, among other things, two different phrases used for the death penalty in the Torah. One is “that soul shall be cut off from its people” and the other is “shall be put to death.” The first type, known as karet, “cutting off,” is understood by the sages as a death penalty to be carried out by God, not by humans. But the second is understood as to be carried out by human courts.

By the time of the late Second Temple Period, the sages had almost entirely eliminated capital punishment through a series of procedural and evidentiary requirements so stringent as to be virtually impossible to meet. We don’t know to what extent the death penalty for Sabbath violations was actually carried out in biblical times, though Numbers 15:32 - 26 tells the story of a man who was stoned to death for gathering sticks on Shabbat.

I’m quite confident that no one reading my brief weekly commentary would think it was a good idea to put people to death for working on Shabbat. So what are we to do with this commandment?

Our Etz Hayyim commentary gives us one helpful thought, quoting Rabbi Jonathan Eybeschutz (1690 - 1764) to the extent that a Jew who does not observe Shabbat “becomes dead to the spiritual dimension of life.” Jewish lore holds that we are given a neshama yeteira, an additional soul, on Shabbat -- “a person who makes no distinction between Shabbat and the weekday forfeits that gift.”

I think there is some truth to this. If we are “too busy” to observe Shabbat, we are probably busier than God wants us to be.

Gebrochts and the Limits of Jewish Pluralism

Over the last few years, you may have noticed that more and more of the Passover products you buy carry the notation that they are non-gebrochts. Do you know what this means?

    The word “gebrocht” is actually Yiddish for broken. A product is considered “gebrochts” if it contains “broken” matzah, meaning matzah meal or matzah flour. Many of the foods we associate with Passover are gebrochts, such as matzah balls (kneidlach), matzah kugel, matzah brei, and so on.

    It may surprise you to learn that Chasidim and some other fervently Orthodox Jews do not eat such products on Passover. Why? Because there is a fear that a clump of flour in the matzah may not have been thoroughly mixed with water in the matzah-making process. If this happened, when that unbaked flour mixes with any liquid during Passover, it would create chametz. So therefore Chasidim avoid soaking any matzah in liquid during Passover to avoid that theoretical possibility. No matzah balls, no matzah brei, no matzah kugel, no crumbling up some matzah to put in your chicken soup. While this is originally a Chasidic custom, as the Orthodox community in general moves to a more rigorous observance, the custom has spread. Therefore many manufacturers, seeking as large a customer base as possible, have begun to produce non-gebrochts products and to label them as such.

    A fascinating aspect of this custom is that those who refrain from gebrochts for Passover only do so for the first seven days and indeed, go out of their way to serve and eat gebrochts on the eighth day. Why?

    For one, there is a technical halachic reason for this. The original custom of not eating gebrochts is due to a safeik, a doubt. The likelihood of some unmixed flour becoming chametz is doubtful, albeit theoretically possible. Similar, the observance of the eighth day of Passover is due to doubt, since in ancient days our ancestors were not one hundred percent sure of the dates of the holidays. When there is a doubt about a biblical commandment, we rule stringently. But the question of gebrochts on the eighth day is now a s’feik sfeika, a “double doubt.” The worry about the flour is a doubt and the worry about the status of the day is a doubt, and the rule is that in cases of a “double doubt” we act leniently.

    But there is a larger philosophical reason for eating gebrochts on the eighth day as well. Those who observe this know that it is a custom and a stringency. It is not baseline halacha, Jewish law. Someone who eats gebrochts is not violating any Jewish law; eating a matzah ball is not the same thing as eating bread or pizza. In order to demonstrate that they recognize it is only a custom, and that they are not casting aspersions on other Jews who don’t observe it, they go out of their way to eat gebrochts on the eighth day.

    That effort at demonstrating respect for Jews who observe differently is laudable, and it is something that each of us should replicate in our own way. We do that in this community through our participation with synagogues of other denominations in joint services and educational programs, my leadership role in the interdenominational Board of Rabbis, and in many other ways. When a rabbi of another denomination needs me to sit on a Bet Din (rabbinic court) for a conversion, I am happy to do so if the candidate is able to demonstrate a sincere commitment to living a Jewish life, even if their practices are not totally in accordance with ours.

    But are there limits to pluralism? The non-gebrochts people who eat gebrochts on the eighth day of Passover do so because they recognize their own practice as custom rather than law. If they believed that gebrochts was actually chametz, they would not do so.

    Our commitment to Jewish pluralism and our commitment to halachic standards of personal status at times create situations which are not easy to deal with. Jewish movements to our left accept patrilineal descent and some of their rabbis perform conversions without mikvah, and hatafat dam brit or circumcision for males. If a Conservative rabbi accepts such a person as a Jew he or she violates halacha as well as a “Standard of Rabbinic Practice” which means that he or she could be expelled from the Rabbinical Assembly. But telling someone in this situation that they aren’t Jewish risks alienating them from Judaism and Jewish life. Former Senator and Defense Secretary William Cohen recounted on more than one occasion that he attended Hebrew school as a young boy but his family became Unitarians when they were told he couldn’t have a Bar Mitzvah unless he was formally converted (his mother was Catholic).

    These issues go to the heart of someone’s identity and are a little bit more consequential than eating matzah brie or kneidlach on Passover. The Conservative movement is starting to grapple with these issues but a solution won’t be easy or universally accepted. As always, I welcome your thoughts.

Two-Minute Torah: Ten Commandments and Polarities

Have you ever noticed that almost all of our prayers are in the plural? We address God in the Amidah as "our God and God of our ancestors." During the Days of Awe we refer to God as "Avinu Malkenu," "our Father, our King." On Yom Kippur we ask God for forgiveness "for the sin which we have sinned against You." And so on and so forth.

Which makes it all the more interesting to note that the Ten Commandments are all in the singular. You may not notice this when reading an English translation since "you" in standard English is both singular and plural. (There are of course dialects which do distinguish between second person singular "you" and second person plural such as the Southern "y'all" or the New Jersey/Philadelphia "youse.") But when God says "I am Adonai your God, who brought you out of the Land of Egypt" or says "you shall not kill" or "you shall not steal," the Hebrew is in the singular. It is not a collectivity being addressed, it is an individual.

Rabbi Ismar Schorsch, Chancellor Emeritus of the Jewish Theological Seminary, says that Judaism in general, and Conservative Judaism in particular, is about "balancing the polarities." Is Judaism concerned with the needs of the Jews or the needs of all people? The answer is both. Is Judaism concerned with the spiritual or the material? The answer is both. Is Judaism concerned with perfecting the individual or creating the beloved community? The answer is both.

We stray from the right path when we focus too much on one pole and lose sight of the other. If we are not concerned about the needs of Jews, we will not survive as a people. But if we are only concerned about the needs of Jews, we have no real reason to survive as a people. If we are not concerned with spirituality, our souls will starve. But if we are only concerned about spirituality, our bodies will starve.

Our liturgy is in the plural to remind us that we are a community, a collective, that we are responsible for each other. Perhaps the Ten Commandments are in the singular to remind us that each of us, individually, has our own relationship with God; and that each of us has a responsibility to fulfill the covenant, and not depend on others to do so on our behalf.

How Open Should Our Tent Be?

If you follow the Jewish news as avidly as I do, you may be aware of a controversy involving Swarthmore College Hillel and Hillel International. The Swarthmore affiliate recently declared that it would not be bound by Hillel International’s policy forbidding any Hillel chapter to host or sponsor activities with organizations that “delegitimize, demonize, or apply a double standard to Israel.” In response to this declaration, Hillel International President Eric Fingerhut, a former Ohio Congressman, warned Swarthmore Hillel that he expects all campus Hillels to follow these guidelines or lose the right to call itself “Hillel.”

It’s interesting that Swarthmore Hillel has not as yet actually violated these guidelines; it has merely asserted that it won’t be bound by them.

What precipitated this declaration? According to the Swarthmore Hillel student board, it was a recent incident where former Knesset Speaker Avraham Burg, an outspoken dove, was not permitted to give a speech at Harvard Hillel.

How on earth is it possible that a former speaker of Israel’s parliament -- who before that was chairman of the Jewish Agency -- could be prevented from speaking at a Hillel? The reality is a bit complicated, but it seems that the Palestine Solidarity Committee had agreed to co-sponsor the Burg speech along with Harvard Progressive Jewish Alliance, a Hillel affiliate, and even Harvard Students for Israel.  Harvard Hillel felt that allowing an event co-sponsored by the Palestine Solidarity Committee to take place in the Hillel building would violate the guidelines, but they also wanted to show hospitality to the former Knesset Speaker. So in a compromise that frankly reminds me of some of the mental gymnastics Conservative synagogues sometimes go through, an invitation-only dinner for Burg was held at Harvard Hillel. After dinner, everyone walked across the street to a university-owned building for the public lecture.

The Harvard/Burg debacle led to the creation of a group called “Open Hillel,” of which Swarthmore soon became the first (and so far only) institutional member.

I began my career as a Hillel director, well before these guidelines came into effect. As a Hillel director I tried to have as diverse a program as possible. When the “Palestine Solidarity Committee” and “Students for Israel” want to co-sponsor a speech by a former Knesset Speaker, and Hillel International’s guidelines prevent it, something is wrong. The ethos of the campus is to promote dialogue and  free inquiry; students learn from hearing a broad spectrum of opinions and having their pre-conceived notions challenged.

I would add that we at Kehilat Shalom have had a broad variety of speakers as well. Last year our Men’s Club sponsored talks by Eric Rozenman of CAMERA, which can fairly be characterized as a right-wing pro-Israeli group, as well as a Muslim leader. In previous years I am told that we have hosted diplomats from Arab countries. Hosting a talk by a particular individual does not imply endorsement of his or her perspectives or activities.

I think Hillel needs to cast its net as wide as possible. As we learned in our “Engaging Israel” course, being pro-Israel does not mean supporting every decision a particular Israeli government makes. Lots of American Jews are critical of certain Israeli policies -- be they on religious pluralism, women’s rights, or the Arab-Israeli conflict. The recent Pew Study showed that only 38 percent of American Jews believe that the current Israeli government is making a sincere effort to achieve peace, while 48 percent believe it is not sincere. (It should be added that 75 percent of American Jews -- me included -- believe that the Palestinian leadership is not making a sincere effort at peace either.) Younger Jews tend to be more dovish than the rest of the Jewish community, and the exclusion of dissenting voices from the Jewish campus umbrella will undoubtedly cause further alienation of young Jews from the organized community as they get older.

And yet -- advocates of the Hillel International policy point out that on the typical college campus there are any number of opportunities on a daily basis to hear from critics of Israel. Indeed, on many campuses pro-Israel students feel that they are constantly under siege. Is it wrong for Hillel to be the one place on campus where Jewish students can enjoy a respite from having to defend Israel? There is a certain merit to this perspective.

The same question can be asked about our synagogue, or indeed any synagogue. How broad do we want our tent to be? I recently attended a “Think Tank on Intermarriage” for Conservative rabbis, and it became clear to me that in the non-Orthodox Jewish community intermarriage is the “new normal.” Roughly half of young adults raised in the Conservative movement are going to marry someone of a different religious background -- and if we are going to retain them and their offspring, we are going to have to make some adjustments. At the same time, Conservative Judaism defines itself as a movement which adheres to halachic restrictions on Jewish status, on marriage and divorce, and the role of non-Jews in the synagogue. How much can we change and still be Conservative? How do we make our synagogue more comfortable for intermarried Jews and their families without at the same time making it less comfortable for our current members, especially those whose inclinations are more traditionalist?

To the credit of both Swarthmore Hillel and Hillel International, Eric Fingerhut will soon sit down with the Swarthmore Hillel student board to begin a dialogue. Within Conservative Judaism, the United Synagogue’s recent Centennial Convention was dubbed “The Conversation of the Century” and kicked off an honest and introspective discussion of the state of our own Movement and its future direction. We need to do the same at Kehilat Shalom. How big do we want our tent to be? What can we do to be more welcoming to those who are not currently a part of us, without alienating those who are already inside the tent?