Limiting God

There has been a bit of an uproar (maybe more than a bit) in the worldwide Jewish community over the Netanyahu administration’s recent decision to freeze plans to establish a mixed prayer space near the Western Wall (the Kotel) in Jerusalem.  Liberal Jewish groups have long argued that the sacred site belongs to all Jews, not just those from the Orthodox world, and so should be open to various styles of worship, to include men and women praying together, and women leading prayer and reading from the Torah.  A year and a half ago it seemed as if this long held goal was about be realized when an agreement was hammered out between Netanyahu’s government and  various Jewish groups.  Suspiciously (although perhaps not surprisingly) the agreement was never put into action, with various and sundry excuses offered as to why things were taking so long.  Then last week the announcement was made – the idea was being ‘shelved.’

Netanyahu could care less about the Wall as religious artifact and sacred site.  If anything, it signifies to him the sovereignty of the state.  But he is beholden to the Orthodox members of his governing coalition, and so, pressed to mollify them, he is allowing the Kotel to essentially be held hostage.  This political dynamic has been extensively analyzed over the last few days, and a quick Google search will turn up any number of articles describing it.

So I would like to focus for a moment on another issue, namely that by suggesting there is only one way to ‘do the Kotel’ the Orthodox community is in fact limiting God.  Essentially what they are saying is this:  God is all-knowing, all-powerful, the cosmic Creator of the entire universe, and yet God is also (you’ll please excuse the anthropomorphism) small minded.  That in all of God’s vast power and knowledge God can only accept one narrow path of human behavior in terms of being worshipped.

This is irrational.  It simply doesn’t make sense.  God, in all of God’s vast power, can only accept one way of worship?  Instead, doesn’t it make God greater to understand that God can accept many ways of worship?  That there are a variety of pathways that will ultimately lead to God?  Some are Jewish, some are not.  Even within Judaism, there are multiple pathways.  And if we stop to think about it, wouldn’t we imagine that God is ‘big’ enough to accept them all?

It is true, to a certain extent, and maybe even entirely, that God is inscrutable.  I don’t pretend to know God’s will, and I struggle to understand what God demands of me, of my actions,  of my day to day life.  But I do know that the God I am in relationship with is מי שאמר והיה העולם – the One Who spoke and the world came into being.  A vast force of power and mystery, open to all seekers.  From the 145th Psalm:  “God is near to all who call God, to all who call God in truth.”

This Land is Your Land…

Some thoughts about Israel after our recent congregational trip, expressed in my Shabbat sermon from 7/1/17 –

Just back from Israel – the Beth El trip – and to travel to Israel today is to both step back into the past, and also to look forward into the future.   The past – both ancient and recent –  is everywhere in Israel.  In the north we stood in an excavated synagogue from the year 350 the CE, knowing that 1700 years ago Jews came together in that space to recite the words of the Shema, to listen to the reading of the Torah, to celebrate the festivals and Shabbat.  On the road from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem we saw the remains of burnt out tanks and transport vehicles.  They have been rusting in the hot sun since the War of Independence in 1948, still pock marked with the bullet holes of Arab guns trying to prevent the Jews from bringing supplies to their brothers and sisters in Israel’s most sacred city.

In the Israel Museum in Jerusalem we traveled back 4000 years as we looked at artifacts from the early Canaanite settlements in the land, and saw an Israelite altar that was in use 2000 years ago.  But we also saw the Ayalon bullet factory from the mid 40s, where young Jews from the early days of the Yishuv ingeniously hid an entire bullet factory underneath a laundry mat, less than a half a mile from a major British post.  These Jews – 19, 20, 21 years old – risked their lives every day to manufacture the ammunition that would enable the first Jewish soldiers in the modern era to defend their homeland.  The entrance to the underground factory is located underneath a movable laundry machine, and to climb down into it is to have an immediate sense of the unique blend of genius, courage, and hutzpah that defines Israel to this very day.

But Israel does not feel in any way like an ancient or outdated place.  In fact, just the opposite.  The vibrant energy of Tel Aviv, with its sky scrapers and beach front bars and cafes is palpable and feels entirely fresh and modern.  If you have any doubts they are put to rest as you drive north along the Mediterranean coast, and see the huge buildings with names like Intel and Microsoft on them.  This is Israel’s version of Silicon Valley, and inside those buildings Israeli scientists and engineers are creating and perfecting technology that will make the entire world a better place for all.  As we drove we saw the foundation of the new mag lev train track that is supposed to open in 2019.  It will enable people to travel from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv in 15 minutes time.  Imagine that!  You will literally be able to live in Tel Aviv and work in Jerusalem, or vice versa.

Imagine that!  From the shore of the Mediterranean to the hills of Jerusalem in 15 minutes.  For our ancestors in ancient times that would have been a trek of many days, possibly even weeks.  They would have made that journey multiple times a year, particularly for the 3 pilgrimage festivals of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.  After a long, hot, and difficult journey they would have arrived in Jerusalem with a deep sense of gratitude, hope, and faith.

Today the way we reach Jerusalem has entirely changed.  Whether on a maglev train, or a bus, or arriving from some foreign land on a great plane filled with people, we  can get from point A to point B in ways our ancestors never could have imagined.  But for all of our technology, for all of the wonders of the modern world, the human heart is still the same.  And I suspect the emotions we feel as modern travelers when we come around a bend and see the city of Jerusalem – the city of gold –  laid out before us – how that touches our soul, how that feels in our heart – is very much the same way it felt to our ancestors thousands of years ago.  The gratitude.  The sense of God’s presence.  The connection to the history of our people.  Those things have not changed for the pilgrim – they are as strong as they have ever been.

This morning’s Torah portion ends with the Israelites camped across the Jordon River, within sight of the ancient city of Jericho.  For the rest of the Torah, through the last chapters of Numbers and all of Deuteronomy, they will remain in that place, looking across the river – westward – toward the land they have been promised by God.  Jericho lies before them as both a challenge and an incentive – a challenge in that they know it must be conquered before the land is theirs, and an incentive because they see that great cities can be built in this new land they are about to enter.

It was just a little more than a week ago that we drove by Jericho, winding our way down through the hills that lead from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea.  We were on our way to Masada, the legendary ancient fortress of Jewish heroism, in the south.  As we passed Jericho and turned to the right, the Jordon River was in front of us, and across it the very place where the Torah tells us Moses bade the Israelites make camp.

It is a strange thing to think about, but Moses never left that camp.  He stayed there, with the Israelites, until the very end of his life when God told him to ascend Mt Nebo, where he had one last view of a Promised Land he knew he would never enter.  He had spent his entire life working towards a goal that only others would realize.  The people would cross over, a Jewish homeland would be established, a Jewish monarchy would come into being, Jewish sovereignty would be lived and breathed for generations, but Moses saw none of it.

Or did he?  There is a well known midrashic legend that God gave Moses a parting gift, just before his death.  When God took him to the top of the mountain where he breathed his last God showed him not only the Promised Land, not only the physical space, the hills and mountains and vineyards and orchards and valleys, but also the future of that land.  The great triumphs, the building of the Temple, the establishment of an Israelite nation, as well as the tragedies, the destruction of the Temple, the exile of the people.

Thinking about that legend, I wonder if Moses knew that one day I would be blessed to enter that land, that I would one hot day be riding in a bus, with a group of tired and yet excited and fulfilled Baltimoreans, many of them experiencing Israel for the very first time.  Did he know then that some 3500 years after he stood at the far side of the Jordon, looking towards this land, that the land of Israel would still be the heart and soul of the Jewish people?  Whether he knew or not, whether the legend is true or not, I don’t know.  But I do know this – if Moses, in his vision, saw today’s Israel, he would have been deeply grateful and proud.

A Dancing Camel?

Like Ahab pursuing his mythic white whale, I’ve been on the lookout for Dancing Camel beer since my arrival in Israel now some 10 days ago.  I’ve been close a couple of times – once today, at the shuk (Mahane Yehuda market in Jerusalem), where I’ve found the Dancing Camel beer line before.  And before that a number of days ago when I was in Tel Aviv just a half a mile from the brewery/restaurant itself, only to discover that it opened later in the day, and my schedule would not permit waiting.  In both cases the Camel eluded my grasp, slipping away just as I thought I had it in my sights.

But full confession – my disappointment has been tempered by the craft beer scene here in Israel, which is exploding.  There are dozens of breweries, producing hundreds of beers, a number of them quite good.  From Dancing Camel in Tel Aviv to Shapiro Beer in Jerusalem, from Malka in the north to Herzl Brewing with its  ‘blibical beer,’ Israeli brewers are perfecting their craft and producing a variety of stouts, porters, IPAs, dubels, and wheat beers that are delicious and truly worthy of the ‘craft beer’ designation.

Just a few examples:

We emerged from our tour of Akko with its Crusader period ruins, through a gift shop (of course!) and out into a tiny alleyway that leads back to the main square.  Just a few steps down the alley and you’ll find a small Malka Beer ‘tied house.’  The tart and citrusy IPA was a perfect thirst quencher on a hot day of touring.

Or the shuk itself!  Mahane Yehuda can try the patience of a saint on a Friday afternoon, but these days it is filled with tiny bars and pubs where you can cool off, cool down, have a nosh, and of course drink Israeli craft beer.  I watched the undulating sea of shoppers jostling along the market’s narrow thoroughfares while sipping a fruity Pale Ale made by  Shapiro Brewing in Jerusalem.  With a palate scorched by the IPA/DIPA craze in the Sates, this pale ale was a welcome throwback to the nascent days of the American micro scene and beers like Geary’s Pale Ale and the original version of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.  What better way to wash down felafel in pita?

Last but not least the Glen Whisk(e)y Bar, located in the heart of Jerusalem (Shlomtziyon HaMalka 18), just a short walk from the Mamilla Mall.  In a room the size of many American kitchens the owner of this classic bar has assembled one of the largest whisky collections in Israel.  But don’t forget about the beer!  15 taps, all pouring Israeli craft beers, the lines well maintained, the beer served to perfection, the pints filled to your heart’s content.  My only complaint?  Even there, at Jerusalem’s beer mecca, there was not a Dancing Camel to be found.

Just one more reason to come back to Israel soon!  Cheers, or should I say l’chayyim!

 

An Ambassador to Israel

This a text of my Shabbat sermon from 12/17/16 –

It has been interesting in the weeks since the presidential election to watch President Elect Trump fill the various cabinet and diplomatic posts that are required of a new administration.  And I have been waiting with particular interest to see who Mr. Trump would tap to be the US ambassador to Israel.  That question that was answered this week when he asked David Friedman, a bankruptcy lawyer from Long Island, and also the son of a Conservative rabbi, to fill that post.  Traditionally the ambassador doesn’t have any policy making power – instead, his or her role is to carry out the policies of the current US administration, while at the same time keeping an ear to the ground for what is happening in the host country.

That being said, the choice of ambassador is often seen as an indicator of where the current administration might be leaning in terms of how it intends to relate to the host country, in this case Israel, what policies it might hope to put into place, what strategies it intends to emphasize.  And if this is the case, it is worth spending a few minutes thinking about who the new ambassador is, and what his known views on Israel are.  And although David Friedman has never been a diplomat, he has for many years now been very involved in Israel and Israeli issues, and has written a series of columns for prominent Israeli papers about the peace process, the settlements, the West Bank, a two state solution – if there is a controversial political issue in Israel, particularly regarding Israeli – Palestinian relations, then David Friedman has written about it or spoken publicly about it.

What is immediately clear from even a cursory examination of his writing and public speaking is that he is a hard line Hawk, so much so that many of his positions bring him to the right of the Netanyahu government, considered already to be a Hawkish administration.  He believes in the idea of a ‘greater Israel,’ that there should be full Israeli sovereignty over the entire territory of David’s kingdom as described in the Bible.  He has helped over the years to fund the Israeli settler movement, establishing Jewish outposts and small villages in Palestinian areas, and he is on the record as saying it is within Israel’s rights to annex sections of the West Bank.  He has also publicly said that he does not believe in a two state solution, and he has demonstrated a particular talent for overblown rhetoric, recently publishing an article in which he called President Obama an anti-semite.  In that same article he wrote that Jews who insist on supporting positions on Israel that he views – David Friedman views – as radically to the left are worse than Kapos, the Jews who worked with the Nazis in WW II.

All of this to give you a taste of David Friedman, and you can see he is strongly opinionated, controversial, and also seems to have no tolerance for views which do not agree with his own.

Now again, the job of the ambassador is not to set policy, but rather to carry out the policies of the administration he or she serves.  The question is will the Trump administration adopt the same views of their ambassador?  Or to take the question one step further, is David Friedman’s appointment an indication that the administration is already adopting those views?

As we let that question settle into our minds, let me turn our attention for a moment to this morning’s Torah portion.  I know that the President elect is not a religious man, and does not read the Bible, but David Friedman is an Orthodox Jew, and I would guess first of all he is in shul this morning, and second of all is very well familiar with the narrative in this morning’s sedra, the story of the patriarch Jacob wrestling with a mysterious unknown attacker.  I am sure you are also familiar with the story, one of the best known in the entire Bible.  Jacob is returning to the land of Israel after a 20 year absence.  While away he has grown wealthy, become a husband and a father.  But he is afraid to come home because he knows he will have to confront his brother Esau, from whom he stole the blessing and the birthright two decades ago.  He knows that Esau is coming to meet him at the border, and he takes a series of precautions – dividing his possessions, his children, and his wives into different groups with the hope that if one group is attacked the other will survive.  And then Jacob does something curious – he waits, alone, in the dark, on the far side of the border.

It is at that point that Jacob is attacked by a mysterious ‘ish’ – the Hebrew for ‘man.’  The man seems to become an angel, but the text is very obscure, and commentators have for centuries debated about the identity of that ‘ish.’  Who was he, and what did he really want with Jacob?

Many answers have been given over the years, but the one that interests me this morning understands the mysterious man to actually be Esau, the brother that Jacob fears.  Let us imagine for a moment that it is indeed Esau who crosses the river under darkness, and attacks his brother.  This is the language the Torah uses to describe that moment – ויאבק איש עמו – the man wrestled with him.  It is a curious term to say the least – so much so that the only the time the word is used in the entire Bible – the whole Bible! – is in this story.  Why didn’t the man sneak up on him in the dark and attack him with a sword or knife?  Or shoot him with an arrow?  All of these are forms of combat the Bible was familiar with – so what is this business with the wrestling?

Here is one answer from the biblical scholar and commentator James Kugel – “In wrestling the limbs of the two antagonists become so entangled that one does not know for sure which belongs to whom.  Wrestling simultaneously seeks closeness to and control over.  The loser does not die or leave;  though he must acknowledge defeat, he remains present, even near, in the continuing embrace of the victor.”

Jacob and Esau wrestle in the dark because they have become so entwined, so entangled, they they cannot figure out a way to separate one from the other.  They know that even if one of them is victorious the victory will be only temporary.  The other will still be there, perhaps damaged, perhaps injured, but still standing, and will not be going away.  They may not trust each other, they may even hate each other, but they are compelled to come together, time and again, limbs intertwined, foreheads touching, muscles straining, with neither able to achieve a clear victory.

When you think about it that is not a bad description of the Israeli Palestinian conflict.  And it might be one that David Friedman, and by extension President Elect Trump, might want to spend some time mulling over.  There is no magic spell that will make the Palestinians somehow disappear in the darkness.  And there is no moral path to making them go away.   And the more settlements you build, the more entangled you will be with them.  That is the reality the next American ambassador to Israel will be facing, and the president elect’s administration will be dealing with.  Wishing otherwise will not make it go away.  So I hope they recognize that reality soon, and I wish them the very best of luck in dealing with one of the most difficult diplomatic dilemmas of modern times –

The Height

Of hypocrisy, that is.  The Orthodox rabbinate in Israel was in a pickle.  A bind.  Facing a conundrum.  They had vigorously and vociferously supported Donald Trump’s presidential candidacy.  When Trump was elected one prominent Israeli rabbi publicly said it was a sign that the Messiah was about to arrive.  But there was a problem, and it had to be resolved fairly quickly.  Trump’s daughter Ivanka was a convert to Judaism, but Israel’s Orthodox rabbis had previously stated that her conversion was not valid.  What to do?  How could they not accept the Jewish status of the daughter of the man they so desperately wanted to be president?

It seems it wasn’t so complicated after all.  The very rabbis who deemed the conversion not halachic (not properly performed according to Jewish law) were now willing to ‘reexamine’ the issue.  Just last week Israel’s chief rabbis released a statement in which they said a check list for proper conversion procedure would be put together, and once a rabbi was determined to follow that list all of his conversions would be considered valid.  Interestingly the statement mentioned Ivanka Trump by name, adding that in a case like hers there would not be a need for investigation – her conversion would be valid, end of story.

What a relief!  Just in the nick of time Israel’s Orthodox rabbinate remembered that in fact Jewish law can be flexible.  It is a good thing, because it sure would have been embarrassing (awkward!  in today’s vernacular)  if those Orthodox rabbis had so warmly embraced Donald Trump while at the very same time so coldly rejecting his daughter.   What would the Messiah have thought of that?  We should be able to ask him soon.  Now that Trump is going to be president, he should be here any day.

Shimon Peres

here a text version of my remarks about Shimon Peres during Shabbat services on 10/1/16

A few vignettes to share with you this morning –

It is 1930 and a young Jewish boy is sitting at a kitchen table with his grandfather, studying the Talmud.  They are in Eastern Europe, the Pale of Settlement, the area that was sometimes Russia and sometimes Poland.  His grandfather is an Orthodox rabbi, traditional, wearing a black gaberdine and a high black kippah, a rabbi coming from a long line of rabbis.  He teaches his grandson the text in Hebrew, translating it into Yiddish, using the traditional chant to make the texts easier to remember.  The boy is seven years old, bright and capable and a bit of a dreamer.  His parents are secular Jews, and the boy struggles to mesh the values his grandfather teaches him with the way his parents live.  At one point on a Shabbat afternoon his parents put on a record, and he walks into the living room and smashes the record player, believing the music to be a violation of Shabbat.  The boy loves his grandfather, learning from him not only a love of Judaism, but also a love of the Jewish people that would be a guiding force in his life.

It is 1936, and the boy is now a teenager, just past the age of his bar mitzvah.  He is waking the streets of Tel Aviv with a friend on a warm spring day.  There is just the hint of a breeze coming off the Mediterranean.  They talk about where they’ve come from and what they hope to find in the future.  A couple of years earlier his parents decided to leave Europe and move to the land of Israel where they hoped to make a better life and live without the threat of anti-Semitism.   The boy is a polyglot – in other words, a quick study at languages, and within a short time has mastered the spoken Hebrew of the Yishuv, adding it to the Polish, Yiddish, and Russian that he already speaks.  A bit later in his life he would add English to that list as well.  He didn’t know it that warm spring day, but those languages would become the tools of his trade, and as he grows, he learns to be a master communicator.

It is now 1944, and the world has become a dark and troubled place.  Our teenager is a young man, 21 years old, a leader in the Zionist Youth Movement.  He has already lived for a number of years on kibbutzim, and understands agriculture.  His work experience includes time spent as a farmer and also as a shepherd.  He has dipped his toes into the early political world of the growing Jewish state, and is known and respected by his peers.  But on this night he leads a group of older teenagers and a team of young scientists on an secret and illegal mission in the Negev.  In the darkness they quietly cross into a closed military zone controlled by the British.  Their orders come from the Palmach, and like the biblical מרגלים their mission is to scout out the land.  How can this arid wilderness be settled?  Can it be cultivated, can it be made green and fertile?  After just a few days they team is spotted by a Bedouin camel patrol and captured by the British.  The group spends two weeks in a British jail, and as the leader of the team, the young man is heavily fined.

It is a cold November day in Paris in 1954.  The skies are slate grey, and a brisk breeze blows though the streets, sending the Parisians scuttling for warmth.  The street cafes are largely empty.  Our young man is 31 now, and as the November days go by he meets with top representatives from the French government and its military.  He passionately yet patiently states the case for the 6 year old State of Israel.  That she is a  budding democracy.  That her regional interests align with those of France.  Ultimately the French decide to support Israel, selling her weapons, and even siding with her in the 1956 Sinai campaign.  His work enables Israel to defend herself against hostile Arab neighbors, and also to establish her nuclear reactor in Dimona, tipping the balance of power in the Middle East Israel’s way.  Just a few years later the French would present the young man with the Legion of Honor, the highest honor bestowed by their country.

The vignettes could go on and on.  In 1963 there were negotiations with then President of the United States John F Kennedy, bringing Hawk anti aircraft missiles to Israel for the first time.  There were two stints as Prime Minister.  Almost 50 years of service in the Keneset.  A Nobel Peace Prize in 1994.  And of course yesterday, with tributes being paid from leaders all over the world, with the heads of state and dignitaries from over 70 countries in attendance, the 93 year old Shimon Peres was laid to rest on Har Herzl, that beautiful and historic cemetery just on the edge of Jerusalem, in the land that he so deeply loved and had worked so hard for.  His love of Judaism and the Jewish people, the love he had learned as a boy sitting at his grandfather’s knee, never left him.  Neither did his idealism, the fierce belief that he carried that our actions can make a difference in the world, and that the pursuit of peace must always drive us forward and must never end.

May his soul be bound up in the bonds of eternal life.  And may his memory always be for a blessing.

TRAIPAC

Yes it is true that AIPAC has a long standing habit of inviting presidential candidates to speak at its annual conference. McCain, Clinton, and Obama spoke at the conference in 2008, Romney did it in 2012 (via satellite), and the list goes on and on. So it was no surprise that yesterday (3/21/16) on the AIPAC main stage there was a parade of potential presidential power with each of the remaining candidates, (except, oddly, Bernie Sanders, the only Jew in the bunch) giving their two cents to the crowd, in various and sundry ways repeating the same mantra over and over again – America will always stand by Israel. It was business as usual at AIPAC, and even if the candidates jabbed at each other in the course of their remarks, they all stuck to the central AIPAC talking points, as expected – or is that required? Anyway, you get the picture.

What was different this time, however, was the controversy surrounding AIPAC’s invitation to Donald Trump. On the one hand, he is the leading Republican candidate – how could they not invite him? On the other hand, there are many in the Jewish community who feel that his public statements are often in direct conflict with Jewish values. A group of rabbis organized a silent protest to Trump’s AIPAC talk, getting up and walking out just as he began his remarks. The leaders of the Conservative Movement (Chancellor Arnie Eisen and Rabbis Julie Schonfeld and Steve Wernick) published an Op Ed the day before Trump’s speech, raising four objections to Trump’s character and candidacy, and wondering whether it was wise to highlight him at a conference that is in many ways about Jewish community. (you can read the text of their statement here: http://www.nydailynews.com/news/politics/jewish-americans-wary-trump-takes-aipac-stage-article-1.2570993)

It was an interesting conundrum for the AIPAC leadership to navigate. It is true, everything is a trade off, and politics makes strange bedfellows, etc. etc. But did we really have to go there? Are we prepared to set aside core communal values for political expediency, for a potential leg up should the unimaginable happen and Trump actually ascend to the presidency? By inviting Trump AIPAC answered that question in the affirmative. I wonder if they were surprised at the references to ‘Palestine’ in his remarks? For someone who ‘studies the issues, who knows them better than just about anyone,’ that was a noticeable slip that gave the faithful in the crowd pause. I have no doubt it will be corrected and explained in the days ahead.

If you are a lover of roots music, you have probably heard of Robert Johnson, the original blues man. Johnson came from the Mississippi delta, a poor black man who somehow almost singlehandedly created a style of music that would become famous world wide. He only lived into his late 20s, and recorded a mere 30 or so songs in his entire career. But without Robert Johnson it is possible to argue that you wouldn’t have the Rolling Stones, or Led Zeppelin, Eric Clapton or the Allman Brothers, possibly even Bob Dylan. The question about Johnson was this: how did one man have such a huge influence? Where did his almost preternatural talent come from?

The legendary answer to that question is that Johnson one day met the Devil at dry and dusty crossroads in the deep delta. A deal was made – Johnson secured his short term talent and a long term legacy. But he lost his soul. Whether you believe the story or not, it is hard not to read it as a cautionary tale.