Monday, October 27, 2014

A Facebook Post on the Mikvah Scandal

My comment on The Forward's website today on the powerful words written by my colleague, R. Danya Ruttenberg: "The whole system of Orthodox self-policing is oxymoronic. From the kashrut scandal in Los Angeles to the ongoing sexual abuse of children by those who "look" Orthodox but act immorally, to this heinous act of violation of Judaism's most sacred precinct, the mikvah. To be violated sexually--whether physically or through "peeping--is profoundly annihilating. It undermines all that is holy and beautiful in Judaism, and makes it subject to the whims of those entrusted to lead our community.

This is not to say that the liberal streams of Judaism do not have their own entrenched problems (see, for example, Rabbi Starr, late of Sharon, MA) or the New York cantor convicted on sexual child abuse.

We who work so hard to become Jewish leaders should hold ourselves to a higher standard. We should seek counseling when our inner yetzer chara becomes overwhelming. We should not act-out unconsciously. We do not have the right to take the life of anyone, in anyway.

Yasher Koach, Danya, colleague, friend, modern day prophet."
Rabbi David Novak
Manchester Center, VT

Judaism: How We Make Meaning Out of Unpredictability

delivered Kol Nidre, 5775

Every blessing in my life is through Jewish community.  
That is probably true for many of you, too.

Think back over the arc of your life.

For me, it began at a Jewish nursery school where my childhood rabbi pinched me on the cheeks in the hallway;
To the tumult of losing my father at a young age and experiencing the comfort of Anne Klein, of blessed memory, the rabbi’s wife, holding my hand, as I watched Frosty melt on my little black and white television.

Think back to when you first lost someone and where you may have derived comfort.

To Spokane, Washington where Jewish life, running the youth group, and regional Jewish youth groups were a lifeline.

Think about how in your life your involvement with Jewish life-- synagogues, community centers, federations and the array of Jewish organizations all doing a part to build our community.  

To Los Angeles where the richness of Jewish community meant that I found different places to engage, to pray, to discover multiple paths for what it means to be Jewish.

Reflect on your multiple pathways in Judaism:  were they straight and in one direction?  Did you dabble in variety?  

To the realization that since that rabbi pinched my cheeks in the Nursery School that I wanted to be a rabbi--so I learned Hebrew, applied and got into Hebrew Union College where in Jerusalem where I met the love of my life;

Think about if you have been fortunate to meet the love of your life and how you may have celebrated it with Jewish community.

To today, here, at ICM, where give me the privilege of serving as your rabbi and growing in relationship to each and every one of you.

We are making Jewish life live, together.
____

This is a prologue to this important point:

In an unpredictable world, where none of us knows what may happen, Judaism allows us to find meaning.  
____
In an unpredictable world where none of us knows what may happen, Judaism allows us to find meaning.

None of us asks to be born.

Once we’re in life we are faced with choices, some that are in our control, many, if not most, are outside of our control.

This is Judaism’s power:  Out of the unpredictability of living, Judaism provides us a thread for creating meaning.

One of Judaism’s greatest strength is forming Jewish memory.

Adam, Eve, Cain, Abel, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebekah, Jacob, Leah, Rachel, Joseph, Moses, Aaron, Miriam, David, Esther, Ruth.  

Each of these names resonate in our lives and the sacred stories of our people.  

Complemented by memories of people from your life: your parents, grandparents, children with whom you have shared sacred time over the course of your life.

Powerful.

Then there is the meaning making year-in and year-out created by the rhythm of sacred time of the Jewish calendar.

Each of us can rely on Shabbat coming every week, know that Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot are in the fall,  Chanukah during the shortest days of the year, Purim in early spring, and Pesach when spring begins to emerge, even in Vermont.  Like music, there is a rhythm to it. Like music, it has its own tempo.  Like music that you’ve heard time and again, it is familiar.

Jewish meaning-making is all encompassing, appealing to all five of our human senses through which we relate to our worlds.

Our sense of sight experiences the flames of the flickering candles for Shabbat and holidays--and the flames on yartzheit candles as we remember our beloveds who no longer live among us.  We see our family and friends, members of our community, and recognize each other.  

Our sense of smell embraces the pungently sweet spice box of havdalah, the lemony-etrog of Sukkot, the smell of oil frying the latkes, the horseradish of the seder.  

Our sense of hearing allows in our voices and the voices of other congregants, the voices of rabbis, teachers, and speakers, the powerful sound of the Shofar, the grogger at Purim, the child asking Ma Nishtana at the seder.  

Our sense of touch allows us to physically feel-each other each other our hugs, our words, our connections, physical and emotional.  Tonight this place is packed--and when you came in I’m sure that many of you took an opportunity to warmly greet people that you know and reach out to the people who are here who may be new to you.

Judaism’s communal connections is another powerful force for creating meaning in people’s lives.

From Shabbat dinners at home to the golf course to bridge and Mah Jong to the deeper encounters of visiting people in the hospital or recovering at home, reminding them that they are not alone.  Judaism creates meaning by making people feel known.
___

When we all inevitably find ourselves in life’s most difficult experiences, these  communal connections remind us that we are not alone.  

When we visit someone who is ill.

When we say a person’s name during the prayer for healing.

When we surround a person who has suffered an unbearable loss.

When we provide safe space for mourners to rebuild a world torn asunder.

At these times of deep human pain, Judaism makes meaning as a human anchor creating time, space, and structure amidst the void.  

_____

Of course there are the times of great celebration in which Jewish life excels.

The joy of hearing about a new baby’s birth.  

Welcoming a baby to our community through the ritual of brit milah or simchat bat.  

The Jewish coming of age ceremony of bar or bat mitzvah.  

Celebrating finding love and making lifelong commitments at weddings.

Commemorating anniversaries of finding love.

Celebrating birthdays, especially those that we consider “big.”  

We celebrate life as Jews because we are a life-intoxicated people.  

Judaism prioritizes life and living above all and gives us the opportunity at every stage of life to acknowledge and reflect on the privilege of being in life.

How thrilling it is when we come together to rejoice, when we sing “siman tov u’mazel tov--yiyeh lanu” “Good signs and good luck--may it also be for us” as if we were spreading the good fortune dust of the person we are celebrating.

And where does prayer fit into Judaism’s meaning making?  

When we put our deepest aspirations into words, what is also called prayer,

we have  the opportunity of giving voice to what we hope will be.  

Whether the prayers of our prayer books

Or the prayers prompted by our inner-beings.
In giving voice to our aspirations, we are empowering ourselves, especially in those human situations where we really do not have any power.

We all know that old Jewish idiom from the Yiddish:  we make plans and God laughs.

That is true--we live in a world that is unpredictable.

Still

Knowing that the world is unpredictable

It is my prayer, my aspiration, my hope that you will reconsider how Judaism transforms the unpredictability of life into meaning,

how Judaism functions in your life and the lives of the people you love and care about,

and remember that while none of us can change the world from following its natural course,

we are all blessed to have Judaism to make meaning.  

Change is Possible

delivered Erev Rosh HaShanah, September 24, 2014

Change is possible.

And yet people insist that change is not possible.

So a question:

Can people really change over the course of a lifetime?

Asked another way, as we mature, do our skills at being in life adapt to what we experience in life?

Think about your lives when you were 20.  Or 30.  Or 40.  Or 50.  Or 60.  Or even 70.  

Are you the same now as you were then?

Do you even recognize yourself from earlier in life?  How about last year?  

Last month?

Last week?

Yesterday?

Truth be told, each day we are alive we are never exactly in the same place whether we are aware of this or not.

This is a moment in our Jewish year when we focus ourselves on change.  

Our liturgy directs our attention to the idea of why and how and what we must do if we want to change.

The ancients who created our liturgies were on to something profound!

They had an insight that people have the capacity to change.  

This is why the process of teshuvah, embedded so prominently in our liturgy is portrayed as a person’s gradual evolution.  

What they lacked was the sociological and psychological research to prove it.  

If they had created a study, one that looked at, say, the generations of our lives, we would then have data points that would confirm their thesis that change is possible.


Today we have that research that bears out the insights and instincts of the liturgists: change is possible over the course of a lifespan.

Known as the Harvard Study of Adult Development, or by its nickname the Harvard Grant Study because its first funding came from W.T. Grant who was interested in finding out people who would make the best managers for his retail empire.  

The study began in 1938 when 268 male Harvard students were chosen to participate in a study that would follow and observe them across the span of their lives.  

As of two years ago, a number of the men were pushing past 90 and are still being observed.

Research from the study is leading to some amazing conclusions that could only be reached after observing these men throughout their lifespans.

Over the course of 90 plus years these men, real human beings, lived and are living in a time and place that like all epochs of time represent profound changes in thinking and attitudes.

Change is possible.

The study’s longtime director Dr. George E. Vaillant wrote a valedictorian book upon his stepping down as the study’s director.  He calls the book  “Triumphs of Experience”  reflecting his own personal growth as he observed the study’s participants over his long tenure as director as he, himself, matured.  

His personal human growth allowed him to recognize many of his earlier insights as inaccurate, and he uses the book to correct them as well as share his newfound understandings.

Dr. Vaillant is proving the point of the Harvard Study of Adult Development in his own analysis of the study:  as people change, as they mature, they can be in the world in a different way, just as he uses newer insights in his work reflecting on the lives of these real people.  

Positive mental health exists and can be understood independent of moral and cultural biases.

In “Triumphs of Experience” he writes: “The very first and most fundamental lesson of the Harvard Study of Adult Development and the one on which all the other lessons depend:  While life continues, so does development.”

How we experience ourselves changes over our lifetimes.  Dr. Vaillant writes that is especially true of what we consider wisdom to be.  

When many of the study’s participants turned 75, they offered definitions of wisdom that are more grounded, more centered, more reflective, and truly reflecting wisdom in its greater meaning.

For instance:

  • “Empathy through which one must synthesize both care and justice.”

  • “Tolerance and a capacity to appreciate paradox and irony even as one learns to manage uncertainty.”

  • “A seamless integration of affect and cognition.”

  • “Self-awareness combined with an absence of self-absorption.”

  • “The capacity to ‘hear’ what others say.”

In each one of these observations, the men are sharing insights that a person’s perceptions are not black and white, that life has few “absolutes” and that human development comes by being in life as our our coping mechanisms mature.

Change is possible.

Another of the study’s profound insights is that the most important influence by far on a flourishing life is love. “The most important contributor to joy and success in adult life is love .  


Original assumptions about the study participants ability to love were based on childhood relationships.  What the study found was, barring outside destructive forces like alcoholism (the drug abuse of choice), as people traverse life, they can form loving relationships that sustain them.  

Change is possible.

Another outgrowth of the study:  men who are in warm adult relationships with others in their lives, especially their spouses, thrive.  

Even those who had unhappy childhoods or earlier adult relationship disappointments.  Many were able to become happy, functioning individuals as their lives matured.

Or as another study member said, “It’s the old who can teach us that life is worthwhile to its very end.”  

Change is possible.

And what about our Jewish expressions of change’s possibilities?  The study pointed to an important point:  

As we understand the relativities and complexities of life more deeply our immature need to believe becomes a mature capacity to trust, and religious ideology makes room for spiritual empathy.  

Religious ideology makes room for spiritual empathy.

Spiritual empathy means that we need to have self-empathy, to create the room for healthy development over the course of our lives.

That is part of the process of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur that calls so many of you to this place in this moment.

For those of you who enter this synagogue and this time of year with apprehension about the ability to change, know that change is gradual, often indiscernible, and is a process, like teshuvah, that is always happening, oftentimes below the level of conscious awareness.

Know that what many of the participants in the Harvard study said in their early lives fell to the wayside as life’s experiences affected them.

Know that later in life were able to have more fully realized responses to them.

Know that the desire to change is one step in human experience to making change happen.  


Know that the instinct that our liturgists had in speaking of change as possible confirms our modern understandings that human beings are, in fact, able to change.

With this knowledge, know, too, that as you embark on your time here this year that you are changing, just by your very presence in this place.  

Change is possible.


Quotations about Change Being Possible

“In the long run, we shape our lives and we shape ourselves.  The process never ends until we die. And, the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.”  Eleanor Roosevelt

“You could not step twice into the same river; for other waters are ever flowing on to you.” Heraclitus




Israel This Yom Kippur

delivered Yom Kippur AM, 5775


There is what to talk about Israel this year.


Please know that what I am about to share with you comes from my deep and abiding conviction that Israel needs to be in the world, that her security needs are deep, complex and of paramount importance in a Middle East that is raging out of control of civilized behavior, and with all of the ancillary anti-Semitism in the world. Israel remains a refuge for Jews who find it impossible to stay in the country where they are residing.


I have had the privilege of always living in a world where there is a modern State of Israel.  From my earliest days I was imbued with love of Israel as part of my Jewish identity.  Our congregation is named after the people Israel--and the modern state is named after our people.  We feel close to the State of Israel here--you can see it when our board voted to buy an Israeli bond and make a donation to Magen David Adom.  You can see it on the mural where in the center the green mountains of Vermont roll into the Judean Hills outside Jerusalem.  Our identity with Israel, our people and Israel, the country, is powerful.


Which is why when Israel is hurt, we hurt.  


My words for today began to be written in early Tammuz, that is, July, in the week that we have learned of the deaths of Naftali, Gil-ad, and Eyal.  Two sixteen year olds and a nineteen year olds. Taken, really, before their lives could begin.  Their lives’ potential lost, much like the loss of the six million Jewish individuals during World War Two.  What they could have been we will never know.   Within a week, a revenge killing took place as an innocent Arab 16 year old was immolated in the Jerusalem forest.  Despicable and against the rule of law.  The perpetrators were soon caught.  


This spark turned into the relentless bombardment of civilian Israelis by Hamas’s rockets.  Long range rockets threatened Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, in addition to the short range harassment around Gaza’s borders.


Finally after months of being under rocket fire it has ceased.


Finally after months of being under attack the terror tunnels built from Gaza into Israel proper have been destroyed.


Finally after much of Gaza was destroyed by the IDF, there is a restless quiet.


We all know that Hamas’ rules of engagement put innocent civilians, including women and children at risk.


We all know that Hamas modus operandi was to launch its weapons from hospitals, UN schools, residential areas, and other places with no regard to civilian life.
We all know that in addition to terrorising Israeli civilians, Hamas’ “pay-off” is a destroyed infrastructure in Gaza.


And we should know that the people of Gaza are reluctant to criticize Hamas because of Hamas’ well-deserved reputation for brutally killing those it considers “collaborators” with Israel.


Now we have Mahmoud Abbas, the head of the Palestinian Authority, speaking to the United Nations last week, saying that “In this year, proclaimed by the United Nations General Assembly as the International Year of Solidarity with the Palestinian People, Israel has chosen to make it a year of a new war of genocide perpetrated against the Palestinian people.”


Abbas demanded an end to the occupation and asserted that Palestinians faced a future in a “most abhorrent form of apartheid” under Israeli rule.
Abbas’ words are viewed by many in and outside of Israel as a casus belli, a declaration of war.  The United States, in particular, is dismayed by Abbas’ words.


The blunt reaction of the Obama administration to the speech testifies to the fact that the White House got the memo: Abbas is in a defiant mood, and believes that rocking the boat, even violently, is his only hope of moving the boat forward.
The United States slammed Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas’s speech at the United Nations, in which he accused Israel of “genocide” against the Palestinians, saying it was “offensive” and undermined peace efforts.
“President Abbas’s speech today included offensive characterizations that were deeply disappointing and which we reject,” said State Department spokeswoman Jen Psaki.
“Such provocative statements are counterproductive and undermine efforts to create a positive atmosphere and restore trust between the parties,” she added.


Nahum Barnea, an Israeli columnist, called Abbas a liar--as he observed that the UN is a place for liars to regularly spread their mistruths.  Abbas knew it was a lie, and yet he said it, hoping that the lie would hold. Genocide is a term which must not be uttered recklessly.


Abbas’ move has three goals: The first is to try to impose an agreement on the Israeli government which it is not interested in through international sanctions; the second, assuming that the first one fails, is to at least punish Israel by weakening it in the international arena; the third is to prove to the Palestinian street that Hamas is not the only one fighting Israel – Abbas is fighting Israel too, in his own way. This need grew stronger in light to the fighting ability demonstrated by Hamas throughout the Gaza operation.


He believes that using force is the only way he can squeeze concessions out of Israel and that using force is the only way he can push the US back into a more active role in helping the Palestinians get what they want.


These two narratives fiercely held about this land, this spot of earth, rarely coincide and most definitely conflict.  These are narratives that engender strong emotional responses, responses that lead people on both sides to lose their lives.


What makes this so sad is that the people are, first and foremost, human beings.  


They are also distant cousins, if you will, people who are sharing a small part of the earth that continue to make claims that are impossible to fulfill.  There will never be a world without the state of Israel.


The land where the State of Israel is will never go back to what was there before it.  And until the Palestinian leaders in the West Bank and Gaza internalize this fact there will always be horrific flare ups that lead to the loss of human life.


Given that peace seems an impossibility, I suggest that in its place, given the tense and entrenched emotional narratives, is an uneasy accommodation.  
Let me explain.  The cost of the ongoing conflict to the quality of life of the Palestinians is a tax that, if removed, would allow for cooperation with the Israelis in improving so many aspects of life.


Agronomy.


Medicine.


High technology.


Water.


Energy.


Environment.


And more.


Take away the narrative of hatred.


Let’s say for a moment that the people never have to like each other--but can agree to replace terror and restrictions on movement with advances that could make Israel and the territories heads and shoulders above the rest of the region.


Instead of the impoverished conditions that create the fertile minds for extremism to take hold, there could be education directed toward improving the quality of life.  


Instead of resorting to violence, people would embrace cooperation--perhaps begrudgingly, but without spilling blood.


Instead of allowing the pot to boil over time and again, there could a  true sharing of technologies that have allowed Israel to become a western innovator.


Alas, the systems of governance on the Arab side seem to be irretrievably broken with respect to this conflict.


We saw it vividly with Hamas this summer.


We heard it with Abbas’ remarks to the United Nations last week.


Happily, amidst all of the bad news, most Jews maintain a strong connection to Israel. According to the famed 2013 Pew survey of American Jews, 75% say they have a strong sense of attachment to the Jewish people, and 89% say that caring about Israel is either an important (44%) or essential (43%) part of being Jewish


So--what do we do?


First we need to acknowledge that we do not live in Israel, we live here.   The threats they face all around them--Iran, ISIL/ISIS, Syria, Hamas, Hezbollah, terrorist tunnels, ill defined borders with hostile populations--this is a recipe for a security situation that must be managed by Israelis, with the strong support of Israel’s allies, especially the United States.  


Make no mistake about it:  the United States is one of Israel’s strongest supporters in the world, no matter who is president or who are the members of the congress.


Two, we, who have chosen not to live in Israel, can still rightfully celebrate all of the advances that Israelis have brought to the world.  


Three, we must always visit Israel and support tourism to Israel.  These dollars matter, but more importantly, our presence matters to the Israeli people.


Four, we must affirm that even when the government of Israel does something with which we disagree, that Israel is a democracy, and democracy is inherently messy.  One only has to watch television, surf the web, read the newspapers, or listen to the Israeli radio to understand that the debate over what the Israeli government has done, should have done, will do, should do will always be loud and ongoing.


WE know that Israel is far from a Jewish utopia.


Yet in a world where fundamentalism and fear prevail,


where anti-Semitism still requires there to be a place where Jews are able to go,


where autocracy and despicable acts capture the world’s attention,


there is still Israel.


For us, for our people who live there, for those who need her.


There is Israel.


And this remains our obligation:  to love Israel without becoming apologists for Israel, to continue to pursue her ultimate well-being, and to remind the world that we are still here and will remain in the world.