Temple David

If you had the opportunity to ask an Israeli anything, what would you ask? Think about that before you read on…

In religious school, our students did just that with Amit, one of Pittsburgh’s Shinshinim, our 18-year-old Israeli emissary who deferred his army service in order to be in Pittsburgh for a year. https://jewishpgh.org/shinshinim/

We are lucky enough to have had him at Temple David a few times and only wish he could be with us even more. He is a terrific hands-on teacher teaching us about culture, games, the political system and more. Our payment to him has largely been in Bamba and gratitude.

What were the questions that the kids asked? Here are some:

• What do other Jewish people in Israel wear?
• Do you have to be careful with the equipment when you’re in the army?
• What things do you eat for dinner?
• What are your friends like?
• Were you born in Israel?
• How old are you?
• Is it dangerous to be in Jerusalem given the Palestinian conflict?
• Why is the Dead Sea called that?
• In Israel on Shabbat does everyone go to shul? Is everything closed?
• What are some of the fruits and vegetables in Israel?

Amit had so many terrific answers and I will just focus on one light-hearted one. He said that one of the fruits that they do not have in Israel are berries or much pineapple. I have to say – for all my time spent in Israel – that that never occurred to me!

So often when we hear about Israel or think about Israel we think in headlines and stilted views of holding Israel to a different standard than even those countries, say on the United Nations Human Rights Council, who are critiquing her. Let us instead enjoy those small but day to day facts about berries and going to school on Sunday because Shabbat is the national day of rest and that the big meals are breakfast and lunch, not dinner.

I realized something as I took out the three books I was carrying in my bag as we traveled south for vacation. This is what I realized: Together, they reflected fully who I am.

Before I tell you what they are, I invite you to consider for a moment what you are reading/listening to/watching and how that reflects who you are. Do you feel that it is a fair representation of you and if not, why not? Do you wish you were spending your reading/listening/watching time differently? Or perhaps you are pleased that you are stretching yourself?

Here are my three books: One was a compendium of stories by Peter Falk called Just One More Thing: Stories from my Life. Yes, it is the Peter Falk of “Columbo” – and other stage and movie – fame. The other is a novel: Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens. As usual, I am not reading it when it first hit the shelves. What a beautifully written novel; I can understand why it sold so many copies. Even when I pick it up for only a page or two, I am fully engaged. I don’t want to finish it. The last book, called Understanding the Prophets by Sheldon H. Blank is research for when I teach an Osher Course through CMU in the winter and for future teaching about the book I am publishing with the CCAR Press (hopefully in May 2022) Prophetic Voices: Renewing and Reimagining Haftarah. Though all of the content is already in my book, and it is in the design phase, there is always room to learn more and I have so much more to learn.

Together, these books represent me: a little retro – plus, it is more relaxing for me to watch reruns and multi-task than to watch new shows. A novel that captures me. An opportunity to learn.

What are you reading/watching/listening to? What’s on your list for 2022?

How are you preparing for the New Year? While probably subdued compared to years past, will you plan to be downtown or to watch the ball drop on television? Will you be with friends, perhaps wearing some snazzy paper hats with noisemakers? Will you raise a glass? Will you finally sing past the first line of Auld Lang Syne? Are you thinking about your resolutions for the coming year?

Rosh HaShanah feels very different than the secular New Year. While we too have hats, well, some of us, and we too hear an ancient noisemaker plus we too raise a glass accompanied to Kiddush and sing of the past, most of the similarities end there.

Rosh HaShanah is about looking forward but not before looking back. For the first 10 days of the new year, we are in the final stretch of the old year. The Book of Life has not yet been closed and however literally or metaphorically we understand that, we also understand that this is the time to let last year’s life lessons finally teach us. To get on not “the right” but “the righteous” path, we are given three simple, though multi-layered paths: Repentance, Prayer and Tzedakah. Once we have worked toward righting our wrongs, then, ten days into the year, we begin again. Beginning again does not mean taking vows, to which Judaism has always had an aversion. Not only might they take God’s name in vain, but they might also lessen one’s own name if not fulfilled. Instead, we do a full soul-scan and renew our days as in the past. We commit our hearts, souls and might to becoming the person we once were or once dreamed of being.

On the secular new year, if we make resolutions, how often are they about losing weight or exercising more? The goal in looking forward should be lifestyle change: reprioritizing family over work, health over impetuous eating and drinking, kindness and compassion instead of sheer competition. Here is my guess: ten days into the secular year, by January 10, most people who make resolutions will have forgotten them or feel guilty that they broke them.

Let us use this other opportunity to begin again in order to take one step toward rather than away. As we enter 2022, let us use our Jewish values to ring in this new year all the more so because we will enter this other new year on Shabbat, a taste of the world to come.

Increasingly around the country at the most local level, parents are agitating against school boards to ban books – up tremendously in the past year or so. One interview I heard was with a man saying that it is the parents’ job to teach their child(ren) about (for example) sexuality. Another interview was with a teenager who was in the LGBTQ community speaking about the import of seeing their own experience reflected through books and lessening their isolation. Who is right?

While I agree that some content is not appropriate for young people, and while I always believe in parental input at a local level, I trust the well-schooled librarians to bring their expertise to the proper committee or professional structure. Their decisions will guide how much of the real world our students will experience through literature – which, we recognize, is tame compared to what they might be seeing online or experiencing first hand.

Further, I must point out that, speaking on behalf of The People of the Book, those who are banning books for sexual content would have to ban a good portion of the Torah plus her commentary and midrashim. And we won’t even talk about the Talmud! While no 13-year-old wants to ascend the bimah and chant about bodily emissions, childbirth and forbidden sexual unions, one of the messages is that the Torah, and therefore Judaism, speaks to every aspect of life – if we but let it. It is upon us to dig deeper through a combination of interactive study, commentary and life experience. A text read only at the surface level – p’shat in Hebrew – is almost as elusive as a banned text. Consider this a personal invitation to Torah study.

That these attempted bans have increased exponentially over the past year or two says more to me about the parents than about the books – especially since some of the books have been on school libraries’ shelves for years. Let us take action at the local level. Let us get to know our librarians – school and public – and hear from them about banning books. Let us keep informed as to whether these challenges are arising and before making our opinions known, let us first read the supposedly inappropriate content and then engage in dialogue. Let us wear our title proudly “The People of the Book.”

What’s your favorite Chanukah song? “I Have a Little Dreidel?” “O Chanukah”? “Light One Candle”? Ocho Kandelikas? The one by Adam Sandler? Or the parodies by The Maccabeats?

Given the history, artistry and reflection of Jewish music on the places throughout the world in which Jews have lived and composed, Chanukah songs do not measure up to such sounds as “Kol Nidre,” “Sim Shalom,” “HaTikva,” or contemporary music such as Julie Silver, Debbie Friedman, or Josh Nelson’s music or even “V’ahavta” for that matter.

Why not?

I believe the lack of quantity and depth of Chanukah music is a reflection of the relatively minor status of Chanukah. Yes, its messages are important but have a different flavor from our story of redemption; the fight against assimilation, the impact of working together, the small against the many, bringing light to both actual and metaphoric darkness and, of course, the promise of miracles. We all also recognize that the rituals of lighting the Chanukiah, playing dreidel and eating latkes and sufganiot are lovely and low-key.

Let us not make Chanukah more than it is and yet let us make Chanukah all that it can be. Let us take the themes of Chanukah and make them our own: fight against assimilation by giving a gift or experience that deepens the recipient’s connection to, and understanding of, Judaism. Join a class or study group or social action effort or worship experience because in so doing, your experience will be deepened as will your connection be to others. The small against the many: let us realize that every single one of us can make a difference if only we have the courage of the Maccabees. Let us bring the light of the Chanukiah beyond the 8 days so that we can be a shamash, a helper. Play dreidel: allow Judaism to be fun and family-oriented and not have to include electronics and fancy things in order to capture our attention. Cook and eat latkes and sufganiot and more than that: try cooking the many Chanukah recipes coming from Jewish kitchens around the world. And yes, sing Chanukah songs that you already know and learn some new ones.

May your dreidel land on “gimmel.” Happy Chanukah!

As I recently said in a sermon our Chanukah story nemesis, Antiochus Epiphanes, unlike other Israelite/Jew haters did not enslave or slay us. Rather, around 167 BCE, he wanted to consolidate his empire by having all his subjects worship the same idols and share the same culture. In order to do so, he had to know enough about Judaism in order to cut it off at its foundations. He banned on penalty of death Torah study and circumcision, the witnessing of the new moon and observance of holidays. He placed idols in the Temple and let pigs run free, thereby making it unusable. That is when the Eternal Light went out.

Imagine if our enemies are more knowledgeable than we are. Imagine if they care to know more than we do about the Temple and its centrality to ancient Judaism. Imagine if they recognized that without Torah study, Judaism would wither yet we do not set aside even a few minutes each week for Torah study. Imagine if their physical idols are no more threatening to Judaism than are our idols of status and financial achievement, of letters preceding and trailing our names.

As Chanukah approaches, let us open the gifts of Judaism. Let us go on a google search about Chanukah and see where the hyperlinks take us. Let us gather the family and not leave the dreidel game until we remember the letters and what they stand for. Let us give presents that encourage further Jewish engagement. Let us plan a vacation with a specifically Jewish activity such as a museum or historic synagogue.

In other words, let us not only kindle lights for the eight days of Chanukah but rekindle the eternal light of our Jewish spirit.

I was sitting at a local restaurant quietly reading one of our upcoming book discussion novels (And the Bride Closed the Door by famous Israeli author Ronit Matalon – highly recommended, quick read, discussion on December 9). At the table next to mine, the waitress was bantering with her male clients about grandchildren. Paraphrasing her side of the conversation, she said, “But girls…they’re sweet when they are young but when they get to be adolescents, then watch out!”

Without purposefully listening to conversations or while purposefully reading Facebook and other social medial posts, let us pause to think about what is being said or posted.

In saying what she did, the waitress sold her little sisters out. Not all girls have “attitude” when they reach adolescence though that was what she was implying. Furthermore, no girls only have “attitude” when they reach adolescence. For all the change in their brains and bodies, for all the differential treatment that they may possibly be experiencing as so many studies show, even if some have “attitude” at times, let us be compassionate and even recognize that at times “attitude” is good. Let us not make assumptions. Let us not group people by sex or by any other trait. Let us be careful with our own words and call out others when their words cross a line. Let us realize who else may be listening, such as the two young girls seated not too far away in the restaurant.

Let us love our neighbors as ourselves through words and deeds.

Do you remember the scene at the dance toward the end of Back to the Future when Michael J. Fox’s character begins to disappear because he has not yet figured out how to make his (future) father and mother fall for each other? As his hands become translucent and lose dexterity, he realizes the impact if he does not achieve his goal: he and his siblings would not come to be.

When I opened my email a few days ago, these were the subject lines:

• Texas Teachers Told To Offer Students ‘Opposing’ Views On the Holocaust (JTA)
• Erasing “Israel” from ancient Israel (CAMERA)
• Hollywood museum erases Jews (The Forward)

I feel that I am being erased. Do you?

These headlines seems to be a form of Cancel Culture. Per that sacred source, Wikipedia:

Cancel culture or call-out culture is a modern form of ostracism in which someone is thrust out of social or professional circles – whether it be online, on social media, or in person. Those subject to this ostracism are said to have been “cancelled”. The expression “cancel culture” has mostly negative connotations and is used in debates on free speech and censorship.

The notion of cancel culture is a variant on the term call-out culture and constitutes a form of boycotting or shunning involving an individual (often a celebrity) who is deemed to have acted or spoken in a questionable or controversial manner.

What others say cannot erase us unless we let them. Let us take steps to counter these false claims by writing letters, speaking out in the media including on social media and challenging local, state, and national politicians, businesses, organizations, and superstars by helping them with the facts.

We may feel see-thru but if we see through their ploys and challenge them, we and they will become whole.

As online connections become ubiquitous, an increasing number of ethical issues arise.  While social media outlets struggle with the balance between free speech, hate speech, and incitement; while Facebook users should struggle with sharing versus lashon hara, I believe that we should also consider a less volatile but important ethical concern.

As you use a search engine such as www.wikipedia.org or engage in some online studying such as through www.reformjudaism.org or www.myjewishlearning.org or www.sefaria.org (three of my favorites) do you have an ethical obligation to donate?  What about listening to a free webinar or going on Facebook live?

Judaism teaches a lot about business ethics.  In fact, we had an entire year of monthly study about that very topic last year.  Since we are commanded to engage in Jewish study and we are commanded not to steal, since we are commanded to not keep the wages of a laborer overnight, implying that people deserve a living wage, it seems only appropriate that we make donations according to our abilities to support the organizations that deepen our Jewish learning and connection.

Let us live our real world values even in cyber space.

Where did the italics go?

In our previous prayer books, the italics were the secret code–or not so secret for those in “the know”–that indicated congregational response. The regular print was for the service leader, the italicized print for the congregation to read. Everyone knew their parts. No one crossed the line except by embarrassed error or by specific invitation.

In our new machzor (High Holy Day prayer book) Mishkan HaNefesh, the italics are gone. There is no indication as to when the congregation should join in. The question is: does that silence them or give them more voice?

Traditional Jewish prayer is largely communal. Individuals may daven at their own pace, but all begin and end at the same time. The invention of using italics actually silenced the Jews in the pews in a way (there are also fewer pews these days but that for another time) and, like a script, indicated what voices would be heard when.

I hope that the disappearance of italics is the invitation to join our voices together. Let us all join in whether in Hebrew or English, spoken or sung. Let our community reflect our worship and our worship reflect our community: My house shall be a house of prayer for all people. (Isaiah 56:7).