tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1515983059701333362024-02-06T19:41:56.931-08:00Rabbi Don Levy's BlogA collection of random and not-so-random thoughts on Judaism and anyhing else that comes to mind!Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-4769203913157797882011-05-27T16:56:00.000-07:002011-05-27T17:01:23.042-07:00Israel by the Numbers<a href="http://www.wallpaperpimper.com/wallpaper/Places/Israel/Western-Wall-And-Omar-Mosque-Jerusalem-Israel-1-1600x1200.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1600px; height: 1200px;" src="http://www.wallpaperpimper.com/wallpaper/Places/Israel/Western-Wall-And-Omar-Mosque-Jerusalem-Israel-1-1600x1200.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />This week’s Torah portion is the portion Bamidbar, is the opening portion of the book of the same name. In the larger world, this fourth book of the Pentateuch is most commonly called, ‘Numbers.’<br /><br />Numbers are an important concept. Yes, I know…what a brilliant statement, Rabbi! How much of an understatement can I possible make? I remember when my children were very small and started school in England. The teacher explained to us that the twin goals of the first year was “developing literacy and numeracy.” Without ‘numeracy’ – without some mastery of basic mathematics – a person cannot be a competent consumer. Even though my vocation does not require working with numbers, I apply basic math to my life each and every day.<br /> <br />So numbers are important. Let me run some numbers by you.<br /><br />There is a particular country in the world, a tiny country when compared to the land masses of the world. Its landmass is a mere 20,770 square kilometers. It is called Israel. Israel, as you know, is the world’s one and only Jewish state. That isn’t to say that only Jews live in it. Israel has a total population of 7,746,000 as of May 2011, according to Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics.<br /><br />Now as you know, this singular country of Israel has an ongoing conflict with a few of its neighbors, the vast majority of whom deny Israel’s right to exist. I’m talking, of course about the Arab world, a vast swath of the earth comprising more than two dozen countries. Only two of those countries – Egypt and Jordan – have formally recognized Israel and concluded peace treaties with her. But one of those, countries, Egypt, has recently entered a period of turmoil and transition. The party which is likely to gain power at the end of this transition – the Muslim Brotherhood – has stated its intention to unilaterally abrogate that peace treaty, when it comes to power. So I’m going to include Egypt in the next stream of numbers that I give you, those measuring the Arab countries that are the enemies of Israel. I’m also not going to separate out a number of countries which, while they haven’t formally recognized Israel, are unexpected to participate in military action against her. I’m talking about countries such as Bahrain – which has a Jewish ambassador to the US – Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates. I’m including these countries, which together do not amount to much either in landmass or population, because they do participate in hostilities against Israel: for example, by bankrolling terror against Israel and spreading libel against her through media such as Al Jazeera. The numbers won’t include non-Arab countries hostile to Israel: for example, Iran, a country in the late stages of developing nuclear arms and which has sworn to exterminate not only Israel, but all World Jewry, inshallah. Or Turkey, which used to be a close ally of Israel until an Islamist government gained ascendancy and is now outright hostile. After all, when using numbers one has to draw the line somewhere.<br /><br />So the total landmass of Arab countries, including the Palestinian territories which may very well be incorporated into another Arab state in the near future, equal 9,049,136 square kilometers compared with Israel’s 20,770 square kilometers. That means that Israel’s landmass is .23 percent that of her Arab enemies. And those same Arab countries have a combined population of 237,224,600 compared with Israel’s population of 7,746,000. That means that Israel’s population is 3.3 percent of that of her Arab enemies. In this case, numbers tell an interesting story…or is it, a frightening story?<br /><br />But let’s talk about refugees, a hot topic nowadays. The various conflicts and wars of the 20th century and the nascent 21st century have created millions of refugees in the world. <br /><br />The definition of ‘refugee’ according to the United Nations Convention Relating to the Status of refugees of 1951: “…a person who, owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country.”<br /><br />Using the above definition, the UN High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) counted 8,400,000 refugees worldwide at the beginning of 2006. This number includes refugees from all the world’s conflicts…except the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.<br /><br />The latter’s numbers are compiled by a different agency within the UN: the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East (UNWRA). According to that agency, the number of worldwide refugees from the one group of people – Palestinian Arabs – was 4,600,000 in 2006.<br /><br />Whoa! One of three refugees in the world today numbers from this one country, a tiny place the size of New Jersey??! 1/3 of the world’s refugees??!<br /><br />That’s because the UNWRA uses an entirely separate definition of ‘refugee’ than the UNHCA. The UNWRA includes also, and uniquely, the descendants of those who actually left the Mandate of Palestine when about two-thirds of it became Israel in 1948. In fact it counts as a ‘descendant’ anyone who can trace ancestry to those refugees through at least one grandparent.<br /><br />(By the way, the figure of 4,600,000 is the UNWRA’s figure. Several Palestinian NGO’s insist that the actual number is close to 7,000,000.) <br /><br />This would mean very little, except that the UN General Assembly considers all who meet this expanded definition of ‘refugee’ to be refugees ; and the UN will consider all claimants who meet this definition to fall under any peace deal requiring repatriation of Palestinian refugees. And the Palestinians about to claim statehood at the September session of the General Assembly, which the General Assembly is sure to endorse, will demand repatriation of any of these number who want to ‘return’ to Israel – not Palestine – as part of any peace deal.<br /><br />As you can see, any peace deal including the right of return of Palestinian ‘refugees’ would lead to the death of Israel as a Jewish state – by sheer demographgics.<br /><br />Numbers, my friends. When talking about Israel, they can be a little overwhelming.<br /><br />But not all the numbers tell a distressing story. There are numbers that tell a story that should make us proud. There are many numbers that fall into this latter category, but I want to mention only one set.<br /><br />Let’s return to the population of Israel. As I said, it stands at 7,746,000. Of those, only 5,818,200 are Jewish – about 75 percent. And what about the other one quarter of the population? The vast majority of them are Arabs, citizens of the Jewish state with all rights including the franchise. The latter has resulted in Arabs holding seats in every Knesset – the Israeli parliament – since the founding of the state. In the current 18th Knesset, Arabs hold 14 of the 120 seats. Eleven of those ministers belong to distinctly Arab parties; the other three belong to ‘Jewish’ parties Israel Beiteinu, Labor, and Likud.<br /><br />These numbers tell a very different story, one of an open and free society in tiny, embattled Israel. A society that is free to all its inhabitants. A country that is under siege by a hostile world 400 times its size in terms of landmass, and with a population 30 times the size of its own. Yet despite this, Israel ensures equal rights to its Arab population. Even though Israelis might with some validity fear their own Arab population as at least a potential ‘fifth column,’ they trust in their democratic principals to extend full rights of citizenship to their Arab residents.<br /><br />This is why the Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, received such a warm and resounding welcome this week when he addressed a joint session of the US Congress. The sense that this tiny, embattled country represents our counterpart in its part of the world, our one true partner in bringing stable democracy to a bad ‘neighborhood’ of the world. The warmth for Netanyahu transcended party lines; both Democrat and Republican members of Congress gave him numerous standing ovations.<br /><br />President Obama, in contrast, received Netanyahu in a decidedly frosty atmosphere last week; this after – some say – blindsiding him in his speech at the State Department the day before. One wonders why the Congress is so friendly and affirming toward the leader of the Jewish state, while our president is not very friendly at all. I’m not here today to present my thoughts on the matter, just to repeat others’ observations and leave the question up to you.<br /><br />Israel by the numbers. It is easy to be left worrying by some of the numbers, and we should worry. Some of the numbers just make one proud. We should be proud.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-43230102078166934972011-05-13T13:29:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:33:46.986-07:00Busy Day......for writing today! A new essay on "Messianic Judaism," posted on my website rather than here. (http://rabbidonlevy.com/MessianicJudaism.aspx) Enjoy!Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-69693087392349881492011-05-13T09:38:00.000-07:002011-05-13T09:40:16.363-07:00Men of Honor<a href="http://www.awesomestories.com/images/user/thumb_0bb63ba62f.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 523px; height: 500px;" src="http://www.awesomestories.com/images/user/thumb_0bb63ba62f.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Tonight, our sanctuary is fuller than usual for the occasion of the Oneg being sponsored by our Temple Brotherhood. It warms my own heart to see the current resurrection of Brotherhood, which has limped along for a few years, even going completely inactive for awhile. Religion in general, and Judaism in particular, struggles to provide a unique place for men. It is difficult to give today’s man a significance and appreciation of his role – in religious life, but more importantly in today’s family. Many of the social ills that beset our society today can be understood to have their roots in the absence of men from so many families, from the lives of so many children. This does not at all belittle the important role of women. It does, however refute the notion, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” The slogan, and the mindset behind it, is patently wrong. Men and women need one another: as partners in life and in particular for raising children and creating strong and enduring families. That we have a re-emerging Brotherhood only bodes well; it says that the men of Temple Beit Torah are now reaching for the significance that they know is their destiny, that the congregation needs for them to have. They are working to be, to become, Men of Honor.<br /><br />Men of Honor. There was a movie by that name; perhaps you remember it? It was about the career of a remarkable man, a man named Carl Brashear, played in the film by Cuba Gooding. Mr. Brashear was a career Navy man, a Master Chief Boatswain’s Mate, a Master Diver. That in and of itself is a significant accomplishment, but Brashear’s accomplishment is more notable for two other facts.<br /><br />First, he was the first black man to enter the Navy diving community, in 1954. He faced significant opposition from the entrenched majority which he overcame through pure grit and hard work.<br /><br />Second, Brashear lost a leg to amputation after a diving accident in 1966, an accident that would have left most men happy to escape with their lives and accept a disability retirement. But not Brashear; he insisted on not only remaining on active duty but on returning to diving. He fought a long and hard battle to do so: first with the Navy to be re-instated in his field, then with himself to build his strength and stamina so that he could again wear the heavy dive gear.<br /><br />Brashear succeeded, and in 1970 as an amputee he actually achieved the coveted designation of Master Diver. He retired from the Navy as a Master Chief Petty Officer after 31 years’ service in 1979. Then he served a second career for the Navy as a civilian, from which he retired as a GS-11 in 1993.<br /><br />Carl Brashear was what some would call a completely ordinary guy, but at his heart he was anything but ordinary. His achievements he won against what some would call insurmountable odds, displaying throughout his life an incredible degree of pluck and resilience. He was born in 1931, a son of Kentucky sharecroppers. He never attended high school. He first enlisted in the Navy in 1948. He entered a military that President Truman had just de-segregated by executive order although it was still very much segregated. Brashear had two maxims in his life. The first was: “It’s not a sin to get knocked down; it’s a sin to stay down. The second was: “I ain’t gonna let nobody steal my dream.” We can overlook the grammatical incorrectness of a man who only completed grade school, and celebrate the motivating philosophies of this great man.<br /><br />Carl Brashear exemplifies the results of following the advice that I’ve given from this very pulpit. You know which advice: Get Over It. When I think of Brashear’s life, I feel entirely unworthy by comparison to give such advice. But since Brashear has left this world and is unlikely to ascend this pulpit, it’s left for me to give it.<br /><br />It was unfortunate that Brotherhood died. Some of our men have been grousing about it. But a small group of our men, led by Mark Van Bueren and Dane Spirio, adopted an attitude of Get Over It and brought Brotherhood back to life. We celebrate this achievement tonight. But more than that. Let’s use the resurrection of Brotherhood as an occasion to adopt, a spirit of Get Over It in responding to life’s hard knocks. This should be operative in our personal lives, but we should also put it into practice as we function as members of various groups. The congregation is going to hard times? Stop grousing; in a spirit of Get Over It, join in the effort to vault it over and past its financial woes. Our nation is going through hard times? You get the picture.<br /><br />“It’s not a sin to get knocked down; it’s a sin to stay down.” Let’s adopt this maxim, this mindset of the late Carl Brashear. It will only be to our benefit. It will goad us on to great achievements.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-39241335091497787532011-05-04T15:14:00.000-07:002011-05-04T15:20:32.443-07:00Celebrate Away!<a href="http://www.xianet.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Osama-Bin-Laden.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 640px;" src="http://www.xianet.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Osama-Bin-Laden.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />There is a truism that we always remember where we were and what we were doing when we heard about certain pivotal events. Those who were around on the day of the assassination of President Kennedy, for example, remember where, when and how they received word. I was only a very small child in first grade in Queens, New York on that day, but I remember a sudden change in the school schedule, with an assembly being called at the end of the day to inform us of the events in far-away Dallas before dismissing us for the weekend. I have a similarly vivid memory of where I was and what I was doing when I heard about a much more recent event – the attacks on our country on September 11th, 2001. <br /><br />I’m sure that many of you experienced one of those ‘pivotal events,’ as I did, last Sunday night, the First of May, 2011. I was sitting on the sofa downstairs in the family room, listening to the TV. I say ‘listening’ because I was soaking my eye with a warm compress and had my glasses off. Geraldo Rivera was on the tube, interviewing someone about something; I was paying scant attention. Then, suddenly Rivera’s voice went up an octave as he stopped in mid-sentence and began talking about the killing of Osama Bin Laden. This will be one of those moments etched in time for me; glasses off and the TV all fuzzy in front of me, and all of a sudden a clarity as reportage of the raid on that compound in Pakistan began to unfold.<br /><br />I was happy, to be sure. Why would one cry crocodile tears over the death of such an evil man as Bin Laden? Even so, I was impressed when President Obama came on TV a while later, that he effected a serious and semi-somber tone. This, although I did imagine that the corners of his mouth were tending to curl upward as he made the announcement. But when I saw the video images of the crowds that had spontaneously gathered in front of the White House and in Times Square and at Ground Zero, celebrating jubilantly, I did feel some sense of disdain. Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, Proverbs 24 admonishes us. I cannot count the times I have heard that scripture quoted, or quoted it myself.<br /><br />I’ve thought about that admonition quite a few times over this week as I’ve contemplated the reality that is the evil Bin Laden unleashed. I’ve thought about it as I’ve gone about my business in the days since Sunday. I’ve thought about it as I’ve seen everywhere faces full of new hope. Even in the cell blocks of the ‘Supermax’ prison in Florence, Colorado, where I went for my monthly visit with Jewish inmates, I noticed a more upbeat mood than usual. This, among the inmates as well as the staff!<br /><br />I realize that this new hope, this jubilation at the killing of Bin Laden, is far more than gloating over the death of a bad man. It is an affirmation that, in addition to Evil, there is also Good in this world…and sometimes, Good wins. It is the same rejoicing that we experience – rightly so – when a serial rapist, or child molester, or murderer, is caught and brought to justice. We grouse when we see injustice; why shouldn’t we rejoice when we see justice?<br /><br />On Monday night I received a mass e-mail from ‘Rabbi’ Michael Lerner, the publisher of the Jewish magazine Tikkun. In it, he cautioned us from rejoicing over the death of Bin Laden. He invoked the act we perform in the Passover Seder, spilling a drop of wine for each of the Ten Plagues visited upon the Egyptians. Just as our joy over our own deliverance is tempered by knowledge of the suffering of others, we should stifle any jubilation we may feel over the death of Bin Laden. So Lerner wrote, and he was not the only Jewish voice to express such sentiments. On Monday, Rabbi Shmueley Boteach posted similar sentiments in his blog on the Huffington Post.<br /><br />Of course, in recent days I also heard the voices of a number of Christians who reminded their community of the admonition of Jesus that one must love one’s enemy. Rabbi Boteach reminds us that Judaism makes no such demand. He wrote the following:<br /><br /><em>Judaism stands alone as a world religion in its commandment to hate evil. Exhortations to hate all manner of evil abound in the Bible and G-d declares His detestation of those who visit cruelty on His children. Psalm 97 is emphatic: "You who love G-d must hate evil." Proverbs 8 declares, "The fear of the Lord is to hate evil." Amos 5 demands, "Hate the evil and love the good." And Isaiah 5 warns, "Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil." And concerning the wicked, King David declares unequivocally, "I have hated them with a perfect hatred. They are become enemies to me." (Psalm 139) Hatred is a valid emotion, the appropriate moral response, to the human encounter with inhuman cruelty. Mass murderers most elicit our deepest hatred and contempt.</em><br /><br />Even so, Boteach went on to invoke the spilling of wine for the Egyptians at the Passover Seder, as well as the aforementioned admonition of Proverbs 24, as well as the Talmud’s rebuke of the people Israel dancing over the demise of the Egyptians in the Red Sea, to caution us against rejoicing over the death of Bin Laden.<br /><br />By the time I read all this, I had long since gotten over the initial disdain I’d felt toward the celebrants on the night of Sunday, the First of May. I had decided that they’d been right in following their instincts to spontaneously express their joy. The death of Osama Bin Laden is something over which to rejoice. For how many deaths has this man been responsible? Thousands directly, and many thousands more indirectly. We should spill out drops of wine for Bin Laden’s victims, not for him. Remember, at the Passover Seder we’re acknowledging the suffering of the Egyptians brought upon them by their ruler, the Pharaoh. We’re not crying for the fate of Pharaoh himself.<br /><br />Rather than mute our celebration at the demise of one who caused so much evil, we should express solidarity with his victims. Our tears should be for the victims of evil, not its perpetrators. If we expressed a uniform regret at the loss of any human life, we would be in the position of equating an evil person with his victim. That for me is the supreme irony of the statement of Federico Lombardi, a spokesman for the Vatican. On Monday, he declared: “A Christian never rejoices in the death of any man, no matter how evil.” So for a Christian – at least according to this view – the value of one life is the same as another. I wonder how many Christians really believe this? Probably more than a few, since many Jews believe this also.<br /><br />But the absurdity of this concept – that we should mourn the death of the evildoer just as we mourn the death of his victim – seems incredibly ironic in that it was published on Yom Hashoah, the day on which we memorialize the victims of the Holocaust. While not having been around then, I can’t imagine having felt anything other than jubilation at the news of Hitler’s death or that of the surrender of Germany in 1945.<br /><br />What I’m trying to say, dear Jews, is that if you felt any sense of elation upon hearing the news of the demise of Osama Bin Laden, you needn’t feel any shame whatsoever. No, your happiness only indicated a moral clarity that enabled you to differentiate between an evil man and his victims. You should be proud that you possess such clarity. If that clarity enabled you to spontaneously rejoice – even loudly shouting U-S-A, U-S-A! then I hope you enjoyed the emotional release. It’s okay to celebrate raucously upon reading in the Megillah of Esther on Purim of the downfall of the evil Haman. So too it would have been okay to join the raucous crowds in New York, Washington and elsewhere on Sunday night in celebrating the downfall of an evil man. Or, to quietly say a shehecheyanu, as I did.<br /> <br />We don’t spill ten drops of wine over the death of Hitler, and we certainly shouldn’t do so over Bin Laden. We might spill wine, or simply express solidarity, with the people of Afghanistan whom Bin Laden and his allies the Taliban imprisoned in a prison of medieval hate. <br /><br />I actually had an opportunity to do that in a very small way on a trip to New York in December, 2001. I was wandering around Times Square looking for a place to eat when on a side street I spied an Afghan kabob restaurant. Still wearing my Air Force uniform after the trip from Colorado, I marched in and sat down. It was a small place; the somewhat flabbergasted owner walked over to my table and stood over me with a questioning look on his face.<br /><br />“It’s not your fault,” I told him, referring to his native country’s providing a base for Al Qaida. “Hopefully, this scourge will pass soon.”<br /><br />I don’t remember the name of that little restaurant off Times Square where I ate that night. I do, however remember the smiles of the owner and the delicious kabobs I ate. And of course, that brings to mind the old joke about the common theme that runs through many Jewish holidays: They tried to kill us all, they didn’t succeed, let’s eat.<br /><br />Bin Laden is dead. Let’s celebrate without guilt.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-53203419130687104152011-04-22T12:18:00.000-07:002011-04-22T12:37:38.595-07:00Finding Joy in Passover and Parenthood<a href="http://shaloha.com/_storage/Pages/1200/Pesach.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1250px; height: 1130px;" src="http://shaloha.com/_storage/Pages/1200/Pesach.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />As I'm sure you know, we Jews have been celebrating Passover this week. This year, I attended and conducted FIVE Passover Seders; two were the 'normal' ones on the first two nights of Passover, and three were 'demonstration' Seders for non-Jewish groups.<br /><br />On the second night of Passover, we held a a wonderful community event at which almost 100 people came to Temple Beit Torah to celebrate the Festival of Freedom together; some were members of our congregation, and others were non-members from the community who came either as guests of our members or because they'd heard our Seder was open to the public.<br /><br />As I was circulating during the meal at our community Seder and fielding questions, one from a woman present – not a member of Beit Torah – floored me. She asked, “How many years does Jewish identity remain strong when parents take ‘time off’ from ‘doing’ Judaism, for example making a Seder?”<br /><br />My answer reflected my incredulity at having been asked such a question: “Why would one <em>want</em> to take any years off from doing Judaism, in particular Passover?” I further expressed that while to be sure exhausting (when making one for about 100 people), the reward for celebrating Passover is the great joy in having a part in the ongoing narrative of freedom that Passover celebrates. Unspoken was my sadness that someone would find it burdensome rather than joyful and ultimately energizing.<br /><br />Later in self-reflection, I thought a bit more about the question and my thoughts took me back to my years teaching Philosophy at the Air Force Academy. It’s no secret that the vast majority of young people who attend USAFA do so with the ambition of ending up in an Air Force cockpit as a pilot. During their busy four years (that’s an understatement) at the Academy, to everything which they must do, they apply the ‘cockpit test’: How well must I master this that it will help, or at least not hinder me in my goal of getting into a cockpit? The course that I taught, Ethics and War, apparently scored low; I saw little of the vaunted USAFA excellence in the way my students prepared the readings for my class. Rather, I saw a minimalism as many of my cadets cynically worked just as hard as they thought they had to, in order to pass the class with a ‘C’ and stay off academic probation, which status would interfere with their social lives. But many of the cadets miscalculate, get a lower grade than they’d expected, and find themselves on academic probation anyway as well as missing out on the enrichment they may/would have received had they applied themselves to the class with the Air Force Core Value of ‘Excellence in all we do.’ <br /><br />What does this have to do with the question I was asked last night at the Seder? It's the essential cynicism of the inquiry, which reminds me of the unfortunate cynicism I found when teaching at USAFA. The attitude expressed represents a cynicism about Jewish life that only contributes to the weakening of Jewish identity. If that’s your attitude toward Jewish observance – I really don’t want to do it, but I’ll do it as much as I think I have to in order to keep my kids thinking of themselves as Jewish – you’ve probably already lost the game. Jews and Judaism will survive, but your kids will probably be on its margins, or completely outside. We parents teach our children volumes by our enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the things we do in life.<br /><br />It’s hard to feel we’re ‘forcing’ our kids to do something that they complain about. Just because I’m a rabbi, doesn’t mean my kids are always enthusiastic about Jewish observance. But Clara and I make them do it anyway. At the community Seder I received a reward, or at least a confirmation that some of my enthusiasm has indeed rubbed off on my kids. I was doing one more demonstration Seder the night after (on the third night of Passover) at a church. Mentioning it to my kids, I told them they were exempt; after three nights in a row they could stay home and ‘chill.’ But they wanted to attend with me. <br /><br />So my kids' appreciation of our traditions does not come from my being a rabbi; it comes from them observing that I derive authenitc joy from engaging in Jewish observance, even when it isn't convenient and requires a lot of work. It is the antidote of the attitude of the parent who want to know how much Judaism they have to 'do' to make sure their kids will respond positively to it. The answer is: your kids aren't stupid; when you're too tired, busy, or unmoved to want to do it, they get that.<br /><br />Dennis Prager, one of my favorite commentators on contemporary life, loves to talk about happiness as an obligation. Even if you don't <em></em>feel<em></em> happy, you have an obligation for the sake of those close to you to <em></em>act<em></em> happy. And - surprise, surprise! - when you <em></em>act<em></em> happy you often end of <em></em>being<em></em> happy!<br /><br />I think that Jewish observance for parents, who wish to be role-models for their kids, is analagous. If you don't <em></em>feel<em></em> that is brings you joy and moves you, try <em></em>acting<em></em> as if it does. At the very least, you'll teach your kids an important lesson about commitment, but then again, you just may end up moved and joyful.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-70499843591653193992011-04-15T09:09:00.000-07:002011-04-15T09:13:34.873-07:00Take Time to Mourn<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6d/Jewish_headstones_in_Burshtyn.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 3296px; height: 2451px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6d/Jewish_headstones_in_Burshtyn.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />This week’s portion Acharei Mot, begins with an instruction for Aaron concerning the things he must not do immediately after the loss of his two sons. G-d tells Moses to instruct his brother not to enter the Holy of Holies until a period of time has passed. Aaron must allow his grief to pass before he can resume his duties as High Priest. He must give himself time to recover lest he enter the presence of G-d with thoughts of his own loss rather than of the needs of his people. He must take a Time Out. When he is ready to resume his duties, he must bring a sin-offering to atone for himself.<br /><br />Two weeks ago, in Parashat Tazria, we similarly read that a woman, having given birth, must also wait a prescribed period and then bring a sin-offering.<br /><br />But wait a minute – what is the Torah trying to tell us? Does having a baby, or losing one’s children, make one stained by sin? Is the implication tantamount to ‘blaming the victim’? In a word, no.<br /><br />Ibn Ezra explains concerning the woman giving birth: the offerings are for any bad thoughts she might have had toward her husband while in the throes of labor. In other words, this acknowledges that when we experience trauma, we may think, or even say out loud, oaths that we will regret later. The sin-offering is the ancients’ way to move beyond our thoughts and words, and get on with our lives despite them.<br /><br />Today, absent the Beit Miqdash, we don’t have such a neat way to turn from anything we may have said at a bad moment. Instead, we must get together with the one against whom we have said the negative things, and beg their forgiveness. Some Jews ritually go around among family and friends immediately before Yom Kippur and ask for a blanket forgiveness “for anything bad I might have said to you, deliberately or inadvertently, in the past year.” Perhaps there is some value in such statements. They remind us that we often do have loose tongues and do say negative things – knowingly or not – to and about those who are closest to us. But the ritual falls far short of what we would ideally do. And that would be to recognize immediately or soon after we have attacked someone with our words, and beg forgiveness then.<br /><br />But I want to return to the premise in the opening verses of this week’s Torah portion. That Aaron must take deliberate steps, and allow some time to elapse, between losing his two sons, and the resumption of his duties.<br /><br />In normative Jewish practice today, we have certain ritual behaviors that are prescribed when we lose a close relative. Most of you know the term, shiva, as in sitting shiva. Of course, the word is Hebrew for ‘seven’ and it refers to the practice of remaining in one’s house for seven days after burying a loved one. Some of you know some details of the practice. The mourners sit on low stools and do not groom themselves. Mirrors are covered. Friends and acquaintances come to the house of mourning, bring food, sit with the mourners and provide a minyan for thrice-daily prayers so that the mourners can say Kaddish.<br /><br />In our contemporary world, many Jews eschew these practices. Those who generally see themselves as being not-very-religious, or not religious at all, see them as a burden. In our go-go world, the idea of stopping all activity for seven days to mourn seems out of synch and will only push back other daily needs that do not stop. Just as an example, if you’re working, your employer is unlikely to grant you a week off to sit shiva. Instead, you’ll have to take a week of paid vacation, a precious commodity for most working Americans. But when we fail to mourn effectively, we rob ourselves of an important tool that can help us to come to terms with our loss and help us to contextualize it and move on with our lives.<br /><br />Yesterday was the yahrzeit for my own father, who passed away six years ago. I did not observe shiva, nor did I observe sheloshim, the second stage of mourning for the remainder of the first month. Clara, the kids and I travelled from Germany where we were living then, to Virginia as my father was dying. The day after the burial, we were winging our way back to Germany. Two days later, I was on my way to Kuwait to help our troops there celebrate Passover. I’m not trying to make myself a hero. The trip had been planned for months and I was loath to cancel it in order to observe shiva. But the truth is really more wrapped up in our go-go lifestyle and buying into the mentality that I did not need to sit for seven days to Get Over It. I buried myself in my work, especially the important work of helping deployed troops celebrate a major holiday. That would be more therapeutic than taking a week of my life to sit and mourn. I fell for the mentality that has, and will overcome many of you when you experience a loss. Let me get up, dust myself off, and get on with my life. But that is exactly what our mourning practices are designed to achieve. To balance this need, with the need to remember, and honor, the one whom we’ve lost.<br /><br />Over my rabbinic career, including my three years here at Beit Torah, I have officiated at many funerals and tried to help many families through the mourning process. As a liberal rabbi, I’ve never ‘pushed’ families against their inclination to do the traditional Jewish funerary practices. A time of loss is, after all, not a time of judgment; it is not a time to give even the appearance of trying to use guilt to make someone do what they’re not inclined to do. But in all honesty, as I think back upon the experiences of those whom I’ve served – as well as my own experience of loss – I don’t think I’ve done them a favor by not suggesting the traditional mourning practices, at least in some modified way.<br /><br />In our contemporary world, it is indisputably difficult to stop our busy lives for a time to observe shiva and sheloshim. In the same way, it is against the grain of our mentality to stop our busy lives every Friday evening to observe Shabbat for a day. All these practices feel burdensome in the context of our rational mindsets. But in eschewing them, we rob ourselves of something precious. We transgress traditional Jewish practice, and that is unlikely to trouble us. But we also deny ourselves important and therapeutic tools for living lives of balance.<br /><br />A few weeks ago, I wrote a column in the congregational bulletin on the importance of being present here on the weeks of your yahrzeits. To have the opportunity to say the Kaddish prayer in the embrace of community. To spend just a moment remembering and honoring the one whom you’ve lost. Most of the congregation did not take my words to heart. I continue to read the weekly list of names for Kaddish and note that few of the families are represented here in our sanctuary. One member actually took me to task about my column; she telephoned to tell me that she was “offended” that I should suggest that mourners have an obligation to be present for the weeks of their yahrzeits. That’s very sad. I wasn’t trying to lay guilt, but to use my knowledge – both the theoretical and my personal experience – to help you to work through your respective losses.<br /><br />Aaron is told to put aside his duties for a period of time, to give himself time to breathe, time to mourn. The message isn’t that his duties aren’t important – he is, after all, the High Priest. Rather, the message to take away is that his own mental health is important if he is to continue to serve in his vital role on behalf of the People Israel. But you don’t need to take it from the text, take it from me: it’s important for each one of us to find the time to honor both the memory of the dead, and our own need for context and closure. Jewish practice provides us with tools to achieve these ends. They are not intended to be burdensome. They are there for your benefit.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-22447677553046684222011-03-08T12:55:00.001-08:002011-03-10T12:37:25.208-08:00A Defense of Religion<a href="http://coconutoz.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/religions.gif"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 393px; height: 397px;" src="http://coconutoz.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/religions.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I'm not going to be so arrogant as to entitle this post "THE Defense of Religion"; there are clearly a number of ways to make the case for a particular religion, or for religion in general.<br /><br />What prompts this post is a recent public conversation I had with a Secular Humanist. His main premise was that religion - any religion - represents a primitive expression of human longing by clinging to that which is illogical and unprovable. According to this chap's argument, only suspension of belief in the Supernatural - epitomizing notions that 'cannot be proven' - can lead one to the clarity necessary to see the world as if REALLY is and to begin to work towards perfecting our world. The argument against religion (in general) goes on to blame religion for most of the world's ills, for most of the violence committed by man against man, and for all manner of oppression of Human Rights.<br /><br />It is irrefutable - and quite unfortunate - that much human blood HAS been spilled in the name of religion. But in the century recently completed, the 20th Century of the Common Era, far more violence, suffering, and death was caused by secular, anti-religious systems: specifically, Communism and National Socialism (Nazism). Almost-unimaginable millions of people lost their lives, often only after incredible suffering, and untold millions were displaced, losing the homes and the lives they knew, thanks to the wars waged by governments in the name of these two systems. It boggles the mind, and it really far overshadows the misery caused by all dark events perpetrated (e.g., Crusades, conquest of the Mediterranean by Islam) by all religions in previous centuries. At the same time, it was largely devout religionists (Christians more than any other group) who resisted, for example the Nazi terror by hiding and secreting away Jews and other who were in danger of being rounded up and slaughtered. Does this exonerate religion for its excesses over the centuries? Of course not! But it does point to the truth that religion, in and of itself, is far from the biggest problem facing humanity.<br /><br />Religion generally, when at its best, is a force for good for the world. One shouldn't judge a religion beased on whether one accepts its dogmas; by definition, if you accepted any particular religion's dogmas, you would become a member of that religion. For example, if I accepted the basic premises of Christianity, I would (if I had integrity) become a Christian; it is therefore a given that I find the tenets of Christianity unbelievable.<br /><br />Another false premise is that one should judge a religion besed on a selective reading of its holy text(s). It is easy to 'cherry pick' someone else's text for passages that one thinks would, for example, incite to violence. But, absent any proof that the adherents of the religion in question DO, in fact commit violent acts in the name of their faith and with reference to their text, that is a false premise. For example, one can point with disdain to the Torah's recording of G-d's instructions to the People Israel to wipe out the Canaanite Nations in their conquest of the Land of Canaan. But the REAL question is: is there any proof that Israel ever did, in fact commit atrocities against the Canaanites to begin with - or is there any documentation that the Jewish people have, since then, committed similar atrocities against any other people? If the answer is no (as I am asserting it is), then there is no logical reason to think of the TOrah as a bloodthisty book, used by the Jews as a rationale for committing bloodthirsty acts. (I would make the same challenge concerning anybody else's holy text.)<br /><br />No, one should judge each world religion by the degree of goodness spread in its name by its adherents. My religion is as unbelievable to you as yours is to me, but that doesn't call either religion into question; it's simply the wrong question to ask. Michael Medved suggested this approach back in 2008, during the presidential primary season, when some Evangelical Republicans questioned whether Mitt Romney, a Mormon, could be the Party's standard bearer. I think it's an approach that supremely makes sense; we should not judge another person's religion based on whether we accept its tenets but based on how much goodness its members bring into the world. In that way, I can have a great deal of respect for, say, the Mormon faith (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Days Saints), even though I personally find many of its doctrines rather unbelievable...even silly.<br /><br /><br />The question of which is superior, religion (in general, or one religion in particular) or secularism, would be easy to settle if all religious people could be shown to be good, and all secularists bad (or vice-versa). But of course that is not the case: there are many good people and scoundrels who belong to each world religion, and secularists are both good and bad. My defending religion would undoubtably be easier if all religious people could be shown to be better people than the non-religious, and the opposite would make the secularist's case easier.<br /><br />But life isn't that neat and orderly. We all know both religious people and secularists who are good, and both kinds of people who are bad. My recommendation, then is for those who are religious or secular to be willing to explain to others how and why their belief system spurs them to goodness.<br /><br />I can tell you personally that I use daily Jewish rituals as tools to remind myself of G-d's enduring presence when I let Him be in my life. I don't imagine that G-d cares, as it were, whether I pray three times daily or what text I use when I do. But the act of regular prayer helps ME...it keeps me directed toward the Holy. Likewise Jewish dietary discipline (kashrut). It isn't important to me whether G-d minds whether I eat shrimp or cheeseburgers. But when I stop and choose not to eat those things it helps me to keep my mind and heart directed to the Holy One and to think about how I'm supposed to live. Likewise the Sabbath, although keeping the Sabbath uncluttered with obligations (except such as are important to my community) also helps me directly: to unwind and de-stress as I prepare for the coming week.<br /><br />Some non-orthodox Jews complain that the intricate system of practices only trips them up and makes them feel inadequate if they can't follow EVERYTHING. Some Christians claim that G-d's Law is in fact intended to do exactly that, and to teach us why we need the grace that the Christian faith offers. I personally don't find either mindset to ring true. If I sometimes slip and transgress, it only serves to remind me of my humanity and that Yetzer Hara (the selfish impulse) is always present and the thing to do is ask G-d for the strength to make our selfless and good acts outnumber the others.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-2467779614488979152011-02-25T11:09:00.000-08:002011-02-25T15:57:04.978-08:00The Power of the Assembly<a href="http://www.kirksvilledailyexpress.com/archive/x294821833/g2e22e200000000000025b245bf8c7e5cb4f71aa70be57617f4213c0c16.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 738px; height: 554px;" src="http://www.kirksvilledailyexpress.com/archive/x294821833/g2e22e200000000000025b245bf8c7e5cb4f71aa70be57617f4213c0c16.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><em>Vayak’hel Moshe et Kol Adat B’nei Yisrael</em>…Moses assembled the entire people of Israel.<br /><br />There is an incredible energy when an entire people is gathered in one place. On the occasion chronicled in this week’s Torah portion, Moses starts his oration by exhorting the people, in the name of Adonai, the G-d of Israel, to keep the Sabbath. He then launches into a long and complex charge for the people to bring forward, as their hearts may move them, materials for fashioning the Tent of Meeting, its furnishings, and the priests’ vestments.<br /><br />I don’t want to focus so much on Moese' message here, rather on the power of the mass assembly. Moses is talking to the entire assembled nation. And we can only imagine the power of such a gathering. In our lifetimes, we have seen repeatedly the power of mass gatherings to change less-than-desirable situations.<br /><br />Who can forget the gathering of about 200,000 souls in front of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, where a certain civil rights leader eloquently told the assembled throngs about his dream for America? The power of the assembly, and the eloquence of the speaker, cannot be denied; the results speak for themselves. Who, after all, can rationally argue with Barack Obama sitting in the White House, that Reverend King’s dream has not largely been realized? <br /><br />Twenty-six years later and half a world away, an equally large crowd gathered in Tiananmen Square in Beijing to rally peacefully for democracy. With the fall of the Soviet Union and most of her client states, the Peoples’ Republic of China was then the only globally-significant hold-out in the totalitarian world. Her people smelled and savored the fragrant breeze of freedom and wanted it for themselves. But the results were not comparable to those of the 1963 gathering in Washington DC. The Peoples’ Army moved in and brutally quashed the demonstration, killing many in the square. Others were dispatched by bullets to the head later, after interrogation and torture. Others still suffered – and even continue to suffer – hard labor in ‘re-education’ camps that rival the worst of the Soviet Gulag for their brutality. The People of China are still waiting for the Peoples’ Republic to offer them significant advances in liberty. But the Peoples’ Army still maintains a robust presence in the square, ready to quash any first stirrings of a reprise of the demonstration a of generation ago.<br /><br />Today, we sit and watch with much consternation at waves of protest against authoritarian regimes in the Arab world. We wish to be optimistic as we watch throngs in Egypt and Libya stand tall against government forces, demanding freedom and democracy. Seeing ourselves as enlightened, rational people, we wish our Arab cousins the best. We hope that a radiant new awakening will engulf the Arab world, washing away the tyrants that we see as a holdover of earlier times. We want desperately to believe that, with the exit of those tyrants who have fomented hatred of Israel as a way to deflect criticism of their thievery and duplicity, the Arab street will be caught up in a new spirit of brotherhood. That they will join hands with their Jewish neighbors and the resulting cooperation will harness an incredible energy to address and solve the problems that beset the greater Middle East.<br /><br />Before we rhapsodize of the New World dawning, we need to ask ourselves: why have some popular revolutions resulted in positive change for humanity while others did not? Why did the civil rights protests of the 1960’s lead to a sea-change in American Society while the Tiananmen Square protests did not accomplish the same for the people of China? I would like to offer what I see as the primary reason for the difference in outcomes.<br /><br />Peaceful assembly and demonstration ‘works’ when the target of the demonstration is an entity characterized by Rule of Law, and Goodness. There is no doubt that the stain of slavery and the legacy of racial separateness sickened American society. This sickness prevented us from clearly seeing the truth of how deleterious black suffering was to the society as a whole. That is, until a series of peaceful demonstrations against the order of things, opened the eyes of America. When white America saw the gathering of Black America on the Capital Mall, and heard the eloquence of Reverend King’s plea, it opened our hearts to the truth. The creation of an equal and just society didn’t then happen overnight, or even in a year. But today, our children are growing up in a far different America, in many ways a far better America, than the one we Baby Boomers grew up in.<br /><br />There can be no comparison between the America of 1963 and the China of 1989. The former was good but flawed, while the latter was – and still is – a regime of evil oppression. This is surely the primary reason for the difference in outcomes. It wasn’t that the protests did not propound equally righteous purposes. It wasn’t that the two groups of protestors were not equally ready to stand up to violence and maintain their peaceful stands.<br /><br />Watching recent and continuing events unfold in the Arab world, our experience of the Civil Rights Movement of America of the 1960’s counsels us toward optimism. On the other hand, our witness of the aftermath of the Tiananmen Square massacre leads us toward pessimism. Obviously, the protests in the Arab world are fully analogous to neither historical event. Each mass movement is as different as the respective countries that provide their backdrop. We therefore look on, from the assumed safety of our own secure and free homeland, with a certain ambiguity, with a mixture of hope and fear.<br /><br />And while we look on with a layman’s befuddlement, we hope and pray that our government has a much higher degree of discernment than we private citizens. Some of us are confident in that regard, while the rest of us are deeply skeptical. Recent national polling suggests that the latter group outnumber the former. We watch the Administration’s confused response to unfolding events and wonder if the President or anyone close to him has a clue.<br /><br />But there is one thing, upon which we can all agree. What is now happening in Egypt, Libya, and other Arab countries matters to us. Despite our assumption of safety, if we’re honest we acknowledge that these earth-shaking events in far away places can and will affect our own interests deeply. What sort of regime will follow the deposed Mubarak in Egypt? And what will replace the soon-to-be deposed al Qaddafi in Libya, may it happen speedily? These outcomes matter profoundly to us: as Americans, and in particular as Jews. May the Holy One grant the Arab Street – and our own President – the wisdom to work diligently for the creation of just regimes of law and Goodness, amidst the ashes of bygone autocracies.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-8985439893003111222011-01-20T09:32:00.000-08:002011-01-20T09:33:46.984-08:00Pirkei Avot and Evil SpeakIn Pirkei Avot (1.15) Rabbi Shammai enjoins us: “Say little, but do much.” Is this ever an enjoinder we need! The air around us is dense with words. While some words do inspire and goad us to good deeds, most of the words we hear do not. So many of the words we hear are not words of inspiration or instruction, but words designed to denigrate and de-legitimize. We are not careful with our words, and the world around us is worse of for it.<br /><br />Our tradition lays out very specific and detailed laws for controlling our tongues. For example, we are forbidden to speak negatively of others; this is called lashon hara (evil speak). And this even applies (in most cases) to information that is true! But isn’t it important to inform others about negative truths regarding others? In a word, no. If we’re honest, most of the time when we make negative statements about others, we do so with no particularly good end in mind. We do so in order to show ourselves as having some exclusive knowledge, to cast aspersions, or to make someone else look better, truer, cleverer.<br /><br />We’re permitted to give negative information about others only in specific circumstances. For example, in order to save a life, or to prevent serious harm to somebody. For example, if a friend is about to hire a babysitter, where you have absolutely true information that he has a history of making bad decisions that would endanger a child, or even (G-d forbid) child molestation. Or when giving testimony in a criminal trial.<br /><br />Therefore, unless the negative information you have meets one of these limited criteria, hold your tongue and keep it to yourself. This prevents the besmirching of someone’s good reputation. This is tantamount to stealing, but worse; a person’s property can be reinstated, but their good reputation cannot be given back once taken away.<br /><br />And the corollary of holding your tongue, is doing much. If the energy that we waste in speaking negatively of others were channeled into good deeds, imagine how much better this world would be.<br /><br />One can’t change the world single-handedly, but one can bring significant goodness into the world by changing one’s own behavior. If all of us practiced these simple words of Shammai, imagine the good result possible!<br /><br />All the best…<br /><br />Rabbi Don LevyRabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-83994494131368691032011-01-17T13:23:00.000-08:002011-01-17T13:29:58.176-08:00Sisterhood Shabbat SermonI'm posting this a few days later; it is my sermon from Friday, when my congregation celebrated 'Sisterhood Shabbat,' honoring the contributions to our local temple life by our congregation's women's club known as 'Temple Beit Torah Sisterhood.' Since my remarks were well-received on Friday, I thought I'd share them here.<br />------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />A famous person once said: “If you want something done, your best bet is to ask a Jewish woman to do it.”<br /><br />Of course many of you here tonight know that the person I just quoted is Gabrielle Giffords, the Arizona congresswoman. She was shockingly cut down by the bullet of a disturbed assassin last Saturday. But she is, thank G-d, in the midst of a breathtakingly-swift recovery that has her doctors – and the entire nation – optimistic for her future prospects.<br /><br />Giffords made her quip about the power of a Jewish woman during her first campaign for congress in 2006. She further said: “Jewish women — by our tradition and by the way we were raised — have an ability to cut through all the reasons why something should, shouldn’t or can’t be done and pull people together to be successful.”<br /><br />It is interesting and heartening that Giffords’ words resonated with the voters in a district where Jews are relatively thin on the ground. It makes her words ring true that she was reelected three times and is extremely popular with her constituents, whatever their party affiliation. It is of course, extremely distressing that Jared Lee Loughner, who lists 'Mein Kampf' on his list of favorite books, has been obsessed with Representative Giffords since at least 2007. It is even more distressing that a chorus of voices including the Sheriff of Pima County, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, members of congress and of the Commentariat, have spent most of this week blaming Loughner’s actions on the likes of Sarah Palin and Glenn Beck, both of whom had been virtual unknowns in 2007. But I digress…<br /><br />Gabrielle Giffords’ claim about the power of a Jewish woman is, of course well-known to us here at Temple Beit Torah. After all, this temple has long been the beneficiary of the initiative and energy of its women’s auxiliary, the Temple Beit Torah Sisterhood which we honor this evening. Our Sisterhood has so much energy, they were not content to sit back and bask in our admiration this evening…they even insisted on leading this evening’s service as a group.<br /><br />Most members of our congregation cannot begin to appreciate just how much the TBT Sisterhood has blessed us all. Yes, they undertake projects that raise significant financial support for the temple. But perhaps even more important is the function implicit in their very name – Sisterhood. Not just a quaint designator, a holdover from previous generations, the name ‘Sisterhood’ accurately describes the feeling of sisterly solidarity that our Sisterhood fosters among its members.<br /><br />Men, we do well when we look at our women and see how they band together in mutual uplift. They teach us that the relationships we form and nurture, define the people we are. They provide us with an eminently emulate-able example of what is most important in life. But our women provide more than this all-important glimpse into the Good Life.<br /><br />Our women provide the music that brings beauty to our lives. Yes, men can make music also. Some of us have been known to sing a bit, or to strum a ukulele. But without women in our lives, the music of life is muted – our lives are colorless and dull. Our women dance. That’s why the Torah gives us the example of Miriam and the women taking up the timbrel and dancing.<br /><br />Last weekend was a difficult one for Jewish women, and for all Jews by extension. It was not only the attack on Gabrielle Giffords that created a void in our world. Last weekend saw the taking of Debbie Friedman from this world. Debbie Friedman, as I mentioned last week was an inspiration to Jews everywhere. She brought us a new era of sacred music; she revived the idea of singing out joyfully to G-d. Anyone who has attended a Union camp since the 1970’s, or who has attended a Reform congregation, has seen and heard the influence of Debbie Friedman’s music. One of Debbie’s most inspirational songs was Miriam’s Song, about the wonder that Miriam experienced at the shore of the sea, and how she led the women in dancing through the parted waters. In just a moment we shall sing this song.<br /><br />Men, we must learn to fully appreciate the song, the dance that our women bring to our lives. In identifying this, I’m not trivializing women and their contributions to a caricature of a harem dancing and entertaining us. No, I’m literally talking about the music by which we dance through life, by which our lives are made joyous and worthwhile.<br /><br />In honor of this music and dance, we expect that a few of the women here may feel led to spontaneously stand up and dance around our sanctuary in just a moment. Men, let’s see if we have the courage to stand up and dance with them.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-4860023616554690962010-12-24T07:39:00.000-08:002010-12-24T07:44:11.777-08:00Merry Christmas!No, not the politically-correct "Happy Holidays." Our Jewish holiday that happens at this time of year, Chanukah, is long past. We lit our Menorahs for eight nights, sang songs, ate fatty fried foods, played gambling games and exchanged presents. Now it is our neighbors' turn to celebrate their own joyous festival. To all my Christian friends, colleagues and neighbors, I wish you much joy as we enter the day of Christmas Eve. May this festival uplift and inspire you as you reflect on its deepest meanings. Merry Christmas!Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-39233826821718687502010-12-19T15:01:00.000-08:002011-01-17T13:23:22.274-08:00Letter Supporting Clemency for Jonathan PollardI have thought a lot about the Jonathan Pollard case over the years. He was hired by the US Navy, gave classified documents to Israel, was arrested and sentenced while I was serving in the Navy's intelligence-gathering establishment. I actually had a professional connection to the case; I served on the damage assessment team prior to his sentencing. At the time, I was struck by two discrepancies. First, after the extensive reportage on him I wondered why he had ever been hired by the Navy in the first place. Second, when the damage assessment team unearthed that he was a minor 'desk jockey' who funnelled various intelligence summaries from other agencies to analysts within his agency, why was he touted as an 'Israeli Master Spy' and given a life sentence?<br /><br />The answer to the first question became clear to me five years later when I was due a routine five-year update and background investigation. I found that I had to submit information going ten years back; because of the rapid build-up of the intelligence services in President Reagan's first term - during which Pollard was hired - the agencies investigating applicants for top security clearances were swamped beyond their capacity and often pencil-whipped the clearances if the applicant had no police record and there was no 'red flag' on the application. If my own SCI update was signed without investigation, my guess is that a new hire, a young man recently out of school, someone with some 'yichus' (his father was a prominent professor at Notre Dame who had surely done some work for the government at some point) would not attract close scrutiny. The Navy didn't know Pollard was something of a 'fruit-cake' because they didn't give him much of a look.<br /><br />On the issue of the extent of the damage Pollard had done to national security, two factors certainly worked against him. The first was his, and his defense team's, own miscalculation. In jailhouse interviews to CBS' '60 Minutes' and the Jerusalem Post's Wolf Blitzer before sentencing, Pollard and his wife bragged about the high levels at which they worked within the Israeli establishment. The truth all along was that the Israeli agent 'running' Pollard was conducting something of a rogue operation. Why did the Pollards puff themselves up in the media? My guess (and this is only a guess, but I think a good one) is that they calculated they would force the US and Israeli governments at the highest levels to begin negotiations for the Pollards' release. The second factor was Secretary of Defense Weinberger's interference with the case. Weinberger, according to Lawrence Korb, his deputy at the time, seriously inflated the damage assessment to make it sound as if Pollard had made extremely damaging disclosures not only to Israel but to the Soviet Union and other states. And in an apparent attempt to manipulate the ire of the presiding judge, Aubrey Robinson who is an African American, Weinberger painted a picture of disclosures to (then Apartheid state) South Africa. Given all this, it is no surprise that the judge locked Pollard up 'and threw away the key,' and that Pollard spend some eight years in solitary confinement.<br /><br />Over the years, I've had the sense that this was a very bad deal. Pollard is certainly no hero, although there are elements in Israel who see him that way. He was more like a village idiot. Given the undue meddling in the case at the highest levels, and the Navy's negligence in ever granting the guy a security clearance, I think that 25 years in prison for him is more than enough and have signed on to the effort to free him. Below is the text of the letter I recently sent to President Obama at the request of the Council of Presidents of Major Jewish Organizations.<br /><br />Honorable Barack Obama<br />President of the United States<br />The White House<br />1600 Pennsylvania Avenue<br />Washington, DC, 20500<br /><br />Dear Mr. President,<br /><br />I am writing to you to add my voice to those requesting commutation of Jonathan Jay Pollard's sentence to time served.<br /><br />I was serving on active duty in the U.S. Navy and working as a Cryptologist at the time Pollard was arrested. Working at the time for the G6 organization of the National Security Agency, the Middle East-North Africa section, I was chosen to participate on the team assessing the damage potentially caused by Pollard’s disclosures. My recollection matches those of Senator Dennis DeConcini, Dr. Lawrence Korb and Mr. R. James Woolsey, all of whom have suggested Secretary of Defense Weinberger seriously inflated the assessment of the damage done by Pollard in his report to Judge Aubrey Eugene Robinson, who presided over Pollard’s case. My own recollection is that there was nothing that we came across to indicate that Pollard gave information to any country but Israel. Further, the information he probably disclosed consisted primarily of daily operational intelligence summaries, information that is extremely perishable. It did not appear to me at the time that the information he gave Israel should have resulted in a life sentence.<br /><br />This combines with my sense that the Navy was seriously negligent in even granting Pollard a security clearance. Had the Navy done the required background investigation, Pollard certainly would not have been hired in the first place. But when Pollard was hired it was at a time of very rapid expansion of our intelligence services; then it was fairly commonplace for clearance investigations to be dropped and the clearances granted if the investigators saw no ‘red flags’ on the application. I was due a routine five-year update of my clearance the year Pollard was hired; five years later, the Naval Investigative Service had to go back 10 years because of the omissions during the build-up during President Reagan’s first term. <br /><br />These two factors – the giving of what appears to be only extremely perishable information to an ally, and the extreme unsuitability for the work to begin with – do not erase the guilt for the crimes Pollard committed. But it does lead me, as someone with a connection to the case on the government’s side, to add my voice to those of Senator DeConcini, Dr, Korb, Mr. Woolsey and the members of Congress who have recently asked you to consider commuting Mr. Pollard’s sentence to time served.<br /><br />Thank you for your prayerful consideration of this matter, and may you and your family enjoy a blessed Christmas holiday.<br /><br /><br /><br />Donald A. Levy<br />Rabbi, Temple Beit Torah<br />Chaplain, Major, USAF (retired)<br /><br />What do YOU think?Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-85378330651745781182010-12-17T13:47:00.000-08:002010-12-17T14:17:18.570-08:00Vayechi - And He LivedI was thinking about the recent and tragic death by suicide of Mark Madoff, the son of convicted Ponzi Schemer Bernard Madoff, while studying this week’s Torah portion. The younger Madoff, a 46-year-old father of four, hanged himself with a dog leash in his Manhattan apartment last Saturday while his wife and children were out of town. The day on which Madoff killed himself was the second anniversary of his father’s arrest. Mark Madoff and his younger brother Andrew were the ones that turned their father in, after he had confessed his crimes to his family. The entire Madoff case is a tragedy: for the Madoff family, for the many individuals and charitable foundations whose investments were lost, and for the entire Jewish community. The specter of an obviously-Jewish crook defrauding so many of billions of dollars should be a source of shame for every Jew. And one would have to be heartless to not sympathize with the many who feel the pain that his crimes spread, including his family. For an intelligent young man of 46, a father of four and apparently uninvolved in his father’s crimes, to take his life in such a way, can only be heart-rending.<br /><br />This week’s Torah portion opens with the words, “Vayechi Ya’akov – And Jacob lived in the Land of Egypt 17 years.” Jacob tells his son Joseph of his wishes for arrangements after his death. He knows that his death is approaching. He is happy that he was able to live out his final years in Egypt, under the protection of his son with whom he was miraculously reunited after many years apart. Jacob doesn’t want to be buried in Egypt; he instructs Joseph that, when he dies, he wishes for his remains to be taken back to Canaan, to be interred in the burial place of his father Isaac and his grandfather Abraham. Recognizing that the family will eventually leave Egypt and return to the land promised to them by G-d, Israel does not wish for his remains to spend eternity in the soil of a foreign land. Israel’s swearing his favored son to carry out his wishes as to what to do after his death, serves as a leitmotif for following generations.<br /><br />Joseph himself, having taken his father’s bones back to Canaan for burial, makes the same request of his sons. Eventually, when the people Israel leaves Egypt, they carry Joseph’s bones with them for re-interment in Canaan. But the practice of making known one’s final wishes has become commonplace and normal. We instruct our loved ones as to where we’d like to be buried, or if we prefer some other method for our remains to be dealt with, we make that known. And it is an important ethical principle that one carry out your relative’s dying wishes.<br /><br />But beyond expressing our wishes as to what we’d like done to our remains after we die, we also express our preferences as to he circumstances of our dying. Thanks to the incredible technology that can keep us legally alive long after we’ve reasonably expired, we often give advance notice as to our wishes with regard to so-called heroic measures being taken, or not, which will determine when and how we die. In recent years, the idea of palliative care to ease our death, rather than heroic measures to prolong our life, has become more popular and compelling. I have to say that the availability of palliative care is a good thing and has allowed so many to die with some dignity intact.<br /><br />But the ultimate level of taking control of the circumstances of one’s dying, is achieved by taking one’s own life – by suicide. In recent years, there has been a movement to allow physicians to assist terminally ill patients to take their own lives. As you remember, Doctor Jack Kevorkian – dubbed ‘Dr. Death’ by some – elicited both praise and condemnation for his illegally assisting, by his own claim, 130 people to commit a painless suicide. He served eight years in a Michigan state prison for his efforts.<br /><br />Now I’m astute enough – and compassionate enough – to know that some reading this will think of Jack Kevorkian as a hero. I think I understand how painful it can be to be in the throes of a terminal illness. I watched my father die a somewhat messy death from multiple myeloma, and before that my maternal grandfather from colon cancer. A prolonged death from a terminal illness robs the dying patient of his last scraps of dignity, causes his loved ones pain to see him suffer so, and can bring financial ruin to those responsible for his care. Even so, I have to tell you that the slippery slope that assisted suicide opens up, gives me some pause. Some people have famously expressed a desire to die for what can only be termed trivial reasons. It is natural for someone facing a life of severe disability to think themselves better off dead. Someone who has lost his sight, or ability to walk, or ability to control his bowels, could be forgiven for thinking that suicide offers a release from the indignity of continuing to live. My point here is not to condemn those who would wish to take control of their life by determining the time and manner of their death. Rather, my point is to offer a contrasting viewpoint. It is only natural to feel despair when faced with a life in which one will be denied some activity, some talent that is important to one’s self-definition. <br /><br />Most of us have activities that we love to do. Golf, tennis, running, skiing…our favorite sports and activities give us untold amounts of pleasure and help us through the difficult times. But while these things are fun and bring joy, we should not measure our lives by these things. If we do, then our lives will seem far more shallow and vapid after they’re over. We should be able to drift in and out of these activities, because our lives’ meanings should be far deeper than these things. If we think that our lives are no longer worth living because we’ve lost the ability to play some sport, then we’ve lost sight of what the real meanings of our lives are. We should think of those whose spirits have been able to soar despite our trials and setbacks. Of, for example, the wounded warriors who have found the emotional strength to live on despite losing one or more limbs in battle. Of those whose fighting spirit makes them see that their worth as individuals, far exceeds the sum of what they’re capable of doing. What a tragedy if someone thinks that, because they can no longer perform some accustomed physical feat, that their life is no longer worth living. Of if a terminally ill person frets over the way his protracted treatment is eating up the estate he might leave to his heirs. Another hint of misplaced priorities. <br /><br />And how about a relatively-young man, with many years of health, happiness and yes, productivity ahead of him, so despairing because of his father’s crimes that he feels he must ‘check out’ prematurely? Perhaps it is unseemly to reflect on these things as we inaugurate the Shabbat, the day of rest and renewal of spirit that is G-d’s greatest gift to the Jewish people and the Jews’ greatest gift to humanity. But my purpose is not for us to despair, rather to learn an important lesson. And that lesson is that we must, while we have control of our faculties, take stock of what’s most important in our lives. Although evil surely does exist in our world, I’m guessing that just about everyone reading my words today has spread far more good than evil in his or her lifetime. Perhaps you have not given yourself the credit you deserve for the good you’ve spread. We frequently think more harshly of our lives than we should, because we focus far to much on achievements, than goodness. Mark Madoff, according to those close to him, was not a man in his crooked father’s image. Rather, he was a relatively unassuming man who helped many with his expertise in investments, who prospered at least in part because of his hard work, and who cared deeply about those closest to him. It is a tragedy that he ended his own life so ignominiously, leaving a widow and four orphans, because of the shame his father’s crimes caused him to endure. How tragic when any human being feels his life has lost its meaning, whether because of a broken relationship, because he must endure a protracted illness, or because some new disability has robbed him of some activities that brings him joy. In all these cases, from the famous to the anonymous, the tragedy is that we find it difficult to see the true value of our lives.<br /><br />Jacob’s life was supremely valuable, although he had a rocky beginning. As his death approached, he might have been forgiven for thinking that he had outlived his usefulness. He might have thought he would be unduly overburdening his son by making him swear to carry his bones back to Canaan for burial. But Jacob’s greatness, through all his foibles, was that he understood the values that make life worthwhile. He therefore felt free to burden Joseph with his request to return him to Canaan for burial with his fathers. And Joseph’s greatness is amply displayed in the fact, chronicled later in this week’s Torah portion, that he indeed carried out his dying father’s request.<br /><br />“Vayechi – and he lived.” May we find the strength and resolve to live out the fullness of our years. And may we be blessed to understand the true worth of our lives, and those of the ones closest to us.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-8895729816122105072010-11-19T12:42:00.000-08:002010-11-19T13:23:06.941-08:00More Jacob<span style="font-style: italic;">This is the D'var Torah </span>I'm planning to deliver tonight at Temple Beit Torah. Enjoy!<br /><br />This week, the Jacob saga continues. Our patriarch, on his way back to Canaan after years of exile with his wives, concubines, children and considerable wealth, is still afraid of his brother, Esau. He divides his entourage into three camps in case Esau attacks; that way he'll have a remnant with which to start over.<br /><br />In the night before Jacob's meeting with Esau, he wrestles with an angel all night. Another dream? But no, this time it is apparently seen as an actual, physical encounter. As the sun is rising, the angel blesses Jacob and re-names him Israel, meaning he-will-strive-with-G-d.<br /><br />Despite Jacob/Israel's fears, Esau awaits with a loving reception...sort of. Outwardly it's an encounter one would expect between two long-separated brothers, but the Rabbis clearly felt some ambivalence about the undercurrents of the meeting. And Israel clearly feels it, as he tells his brother of his plan to settle in another part of the Land, far away from the flocks and pens of his brother who has also become quite wealthy in the years of their separation.<br /><br />Israel clearly does not fully trust his brother. But he understands he must make an attempt to reconcile with him if they're to live in the same country. So he sends a delegation ahead with gifts and warm greetings, and he physically approaches his brother without an accompanying war party.<br /><br />Jacob is caught in the broad nether-land between fully trusting and fully distrusting. And we, likewise often find our relations with others falling into that extensive ground.<br /><br />It is dangerous to trust others completely. How many of us can relate to having been 'burned' after lending a considerable sum of money to a relative or a close friend or associate? Who among us had an unfortunate experience after co-signing a loan? Has anybody ever let someone stay in their house and returned to find something missing or broken? And these are just examples of PERSONAL trust that was returned with bad-will.<br /><br />What about relations between groups, for example the different groups with which we find we must forge alliances in order to improve life in our country, in our world? I'll give you an example that comes immediately to mind, from my recent experience that some of you here tonight experienced with me. As you know, I recently invited a representative of the Muslim community to come and teach us something about Islam. Since it is alleged that Americans in general are very ignorant of Islam and likely to fear it and its adherents out of that ignorance, does it not follow that we should be willing to sit and learn something from a representative of that community? Very hearteningly, a number of you showed up to listen and learn respectfully.<br /><br />The presentation by Mr. Yousufi was supposed to be in the framework of a series of discreet events that would ultimately, hopefully lead to some form of dialogue and fellowship between members of his community and this one. We hadn't worked out the details, but we had discussed the process to some degree. And an agreement that we made immediately in our discussion - it was Yousufi's suggestion, but in offering it he could have been reading my mind - was that we should leave the Arab-Israeli dispute out of the structure of the dialogue. Yousufi expressed that it would could not be anything other than a point of contention, conspiring to spoil any good efforts we might be making. From my standpoint, it is irrelevant to the notion that we are two minority groups in American life that actually have quite a bit in common. Few of you find that the large part of your Jewish consciousness resides in the conflicts of the Middle East, and my assumption was that for most members of the local Muslim community that would also hold true. Perhaps, but clearly not for Mr. Yousufi.<br /><br />Despite our agreement, Yousufi chose to use his audience with us to lecture us about the sins of Israel. Some of you responded quite vigorously,as I would expect you to. But most importantly, an excellent opportunity for further dialogue and mutual support between our two communities vanished, at least for the immediate future. And that's unfortunate.<br /><br />I trusted Mr. Yousufi, but in truth I didn't stick my neck TOO far out, and that minimized the damage. To be honest, in proceeding with the 'baby steps' toward dialogue I was very much thinking about Israel's caution in approaching his brother, as chronicled in this week's Torah portion. If one aught to hold one's brother, Esau,at arm's length after a bitter conflict,how much more so one's distant cousin, Ishmael? Approach,trust as much as necessary to open a dialogue, and be ready to either open up more-or withdraw, depending on the other side's behavior. Or to put it as we did when I worked in intelligence: In G-d we trust...all other we monitor.<br /><br />As I've said on so many occasions that I know I sound like a broken record - for those who remember what a record is! - The Torah, whatever the process that resulted in our having it in its existing form, is an endless repository of some of the most sublime wisdom known to humanity. The lesson we learn from Israel this week is just one example.<br /><br />Shabbat shalom!Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-44618028498531134612010-11-15T07:21:00.000-08:002010-11-15T07:56:09.835-08:00What We Learn from Jacob<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMVp2mnaN415a_tJktxbzn7sxKQbSOt5bm46OyRYuGHpYDDh49M_uEKBk__9XJFPAGQkNI8tHVMjbjOOaWrSe-O4zKLzpuc8YovX3SEpCpWOA4bdpUNvi6UvtL0gO526FF_HHnTkhbs4/s1600/Jacob%2527s-Ladder.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMVp2mnaN415a_tJktxbzn7sxKQbSOt5bm46OyRYuGHpYDDh49M_uEKBk__9XJFPAGQkNI8tHVMjbjOOaWrSe-O4zKLzpuc8YovX3SEpCpWOA4bdpUNvi6UvtL0gO526FF_HHnTkhbs4/s400/Jacob%2527s-Ladder.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539797166726900050" border="0" /></a><br />I love the patriarchal narratives found in the book of Genesis, and in particular I find the chapters featuring the stories of Jacob and Esau, and Jacob's his sons riveting. Why? Because these biblical actors are so incredibly ordinary, regular people with foibles like your and mine. And in their ordinariness, they can teach us so much about life - important lessons to help us live together understand and respect one another. Often, when I hear of the disfunctionalities of peoples' family lives, I am reminded of the very issues faced, and in many cases overcome by, our patriarchal families.<br /><br />For example, the issue of sibling rivalry pops up time and again. We're taught that the twins Jacob and Esau fought for dominance even in their mother's womb, distressing Rebecca to the point where she asked G-d to take her life. When it was time for their birth, Jacob tried to hold Esau back so that he could be born first. No, I don't think we're supposed to take this account literally; I think it serves to set-up the story of the deep rivalry between the brothers and Jacob's desire to supplant Esau as the favored one. <br /><br />After the twins' birth, each parent developed a preference for one of the boys. we read that Isaac favored Esau, the hunter, 'because the taste of game was in his mouth.' Translation: Esau was developing into the 'manly man' that Isaac, who lived in the shadow of his powerful father, never became. On the other hand, Rebecca favored the outwardly mild, thoughtful and clever Jacob.<br /><br />When they were young, Jacob manages to wrest the Firstborn Rights from his brother; coming out of the field famished after a day of hunting, Esau smells a delicious lentil stew that Jacob is cooking, requests some, and Jacob agrees but demands the Birthright in return. Esau, declaring 'what good is a Birthright if I'm going to die,' accepts the trade. Some readers would criticize Jacob for the uneven exchange, but my reaction is to be critical of Esau. The truth is that he wasn't dying, he was just hungry and so focused on his bodily needs that he couldn't think clearly. He spurned the Birthright by letting it go so easily, for a bowl of stew.<br /><br />More condemnatory of Jacob is the later incident where the blind and dying Isaac asks Esau to go hunt a deer and fix the venison stew that he loves, so that after eating and sating himself Isaac can give his final blessing to his firstborn son. Rebecca, wanting the blessing to go to Jacob, colludes with the younger twin to get Isaac to unintentionally give the blessing to Jacob instead. This enrages Esau (with more than a little justification) to the point where Rebecca sends Jacob fleeing for his life. But clever and thoughtful Jacob learns an important lesson from the adversity; after a strange dream while resting during his flight, he realizes that G-d is there with him, to comfort and protect him through his travail. Jacob declares famously, 'G-d was in this place, and I - I did not know it.'<br /><br />Returning after years of exile with his two wives and two concubines, Jacob still fears his brother's wrath. he approaches cautiously and is skeptical when Esau receives him with apparent welcome and forgiveness. We read this account in this week's Torah portion,Vayishlach. having received a blessing from what appears to be an angel of G-d on the morning of his re-entry to Canaan, Jacob realizes that he will have to remain alive in order to realize the blessing; out of his caution, he holds his brother at arm's length and moves his family into a region where Esau has not established himself.<br /><br />Jacob's growth to maturity, his learning important lessons from the adversities he faces, sets the stage for similar life lessons by his son, Joseph. But that's a subject for another essay. For now, I certainly recommend the Jacob narratives as presenting important life lessons even for us, in the 21st century of the common era. Enjoy!Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-71568660663589466772010-11-05T13:11:00.000-07:002010-11-05T13:15:31.094-07:00Postlude to the Elections<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMCaPv-8RmIdA0FXXSp8O7o_XsAGZBiAfU-bxzZ1YwNPqjAloOE12-mDmAe84MjiHhnirJDHfBSoB6UAbluVDc5qTDNPI7CJeKDtTgTI2ARbZMrYQnTs8JE_lyyNqDKyfeWV91N8xRBs/s1600/vote.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 384px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536161477078705970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMCaPv-8RmIdA0FXXSp8O7o_XsAGZBiAfU-bxzZ1YwNPqjAloOE12-mDmAe84MjiHhnirJDHfBSoB6UAbluVDc5qTDNPI7CJeKDtTgTI2ARbZMrYQnTs8JE_lyyNqDKyfeWV91N8xRBs/s400/vote.jpg" /></a> I’m as interested in politics as most of the people I know because the results of the struggles for political control of our society, after all, directly affect our lives as individuals and as members of a society. Having said that, I’m not what one might call an ‘activist.’ Unlike many of my colleagues (in the rabbinate and in Christian ministry) I try to avoid making politics a part of my pulpit persona. Believe me, on the rare occasion when I transgress his principle I usually hear about it from someone in the congregation. But here, on my weblog, I feel freer to address subjects one might call ‘political.’ Although I do not aspire to be a pundit or a political analyst, I am particularly interested in the nexus of politics and values as I’ve expressed her a number of times.<br /><br />So, what is my take on the mid-term elections of this week? What is the lesson from the (some would say, spectacular) gains the Republicans made in the US House of Representatives, as well as many governorships and state legislatures across the country? How about the Republicans’ failing to make significant gains in the US Senate? Again, I’m not a skilled political analyst, but here goes…<br /><br />President Obama, in his press conference on Wednesday, explained the ‘shellacking’ (his word) that his party took by acknowledging that the economy hasn’t yet rebounded significantly enough since his election to improve people’s lives; the people took out their frustration on the ruling party. Of course there’s truth to that, but if the President really thinks that’s the only reason for the turn of events then he’s sadly mistaken.<br /><br />The American people are largely frustrated by the way that government has been operating in the last two years. While President Obama has lived up to a number of his campaign promises (but not all) with regard to policy agenda, he has completely ignored his promises as to how his government would operate.<br /><br />The openness and accountability that Obama promised, never materialized. Much of the electorate has watched the way that Obama’s White House and the congress controlled by his party (but particularly, the House of Representatives) has operated and been dismayed. Even many of those who agreed with a particular part of the legislative agenda (say, the health care reform initiative) were shocked by the tactics used to pass it, and by the lack of openness in revealing the contents of the legislation. Very emblematic of what was wrong with the process was Speaker of the House Pelosi’s declaration (concerning the health care bill), “We have to pass the bill, so you can find out what’s in it.” Most of the folks I know, wondered if Speaker Pelosi even knew what was in it. And then there was the President’s declaration (offered when concerns were raised over the congress’ intent to use ‘reconciliation’ to pass the health bill) that “the American people aren’t interested in process, only in results.” I have to say that I cared about the process, and most people I know expressed similar concern.<br /><br />So we’re frustrated over the stubbornness of the economy, but that’s not all. Voters expressed their frustration by voting to significantly change the balance of power in the House. But why not the Senate?<br /><br />Again, I’m not the über-pundit, but it seems that the Republican candidates who failed to unseat Democrats in the races so many were watching carefully (e.g., Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Nevada) did not engender trust in the voters. They were seen as too extreme, too inexperienced, or too flaky. Perhaps the electorate simply voted on the principle ‘better the devil you know, than the devil you don’t know.’ <br /><br />Perhaps, the mixed result of the election, points to the intelligence and thoughtfulness of the American voter; even when frustrated and wanting to send a clear message to those in power, they were not about to vote for those they considered unqualified. That’s the message I got, anyway. It gives me cause for optimism about the future of our country.<br /><div><a id="aimgMain" href="http://rds.yahoo.com/_ylt=A0S020ucZNRMkTgAzMSjzbkF/SIG=12f5kjeri/EXP=1289074204/**http%3a//www.sussexcountyde.gov/election/images/main_vote.jpg" target="_top"></a></div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-10130551211428718862010-09-08T09:54:00.001-07:002010-09-08T10:02:43.434-07:00Shana Tova!<a href="http://www.eaglerockcc.org/images/p1070934.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 682px; HEIGHT: 804px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://www.eaglerockcc.org/images/p1070934.jpg" /></a><br /><div>May you be inscribed for a year of happiness and blessing!</div><div></div><div>If you're interested in my Rosh Hashanah sermons, you can find them here: <a href="http://rabbidonlevy.com/RoshHashanah5771.aspx">http://rabbidonlevy.com/RoshHashanah5771.aspx</a> </div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-77431191782946398122010-08-27T14:04:00.000-07:002010-08-27T14:13:11.893-07:00Letter to Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlKd-cbN8HwE9Gz2TfytSC62oUrAyRNQcSMMSk4gjsu53peugPO1TZsBWz04xcPf5Bm575ToCUqyNUQ-D5Rz-RqifAr0anp3Of3jra6AqTci9XthMhSrIE3bj88lU5KW9CNcE88LJulY/s1600/ground+zero+mosque.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 677px; HEIGHT: 341px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510200327058981202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlKd-cbN8HwE9Gz2TfytSC62oUrAyRNQcSMMSk4gjsu53peugPO1TZsBWz04xcPf5Bm575ToCUqyNUQ-D5Rz-RqifAr0anp3Of3jra6AqTci9XthMhSrIE3bj88lU5KW9CNcE88LJulY/s400/ground+zero+mosque.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I sent Imam Feisal this letter as my contribution to the conversation on his controversial Park51 Islamic Center, the so-called "Ground Zero Mosque."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Thursday, August 26, 2010<br /><br />Dear Imam Feisal,<br /><br />As a colleague in religious leadership, I wanted to write to you to express my support and solidarity, and to offer a little unsolicited advice. I pray you’ll be forbearing.<br /><br />Perhaps I congratulate myself far too much in referring to myself as your colleague; I am rabbi of a small synagogue in Colorado Springs, hardly the peer of a religious leader of national stature who has embarked on a very bold, visible and controversial project in New York city.<br /><br />Nevertheless, I claim the title ‘colleague.’ I do have a little experience in working with Muslim colleagues; while stationed in Germany as a US Air Force Chaplain, Imam Hamza al-Mubarak and I built a chapel and educational center for the joint use of our two communities. At a $550K budget for construction, it was obviously far more modest than your proposed Cordoba House in New York. Here in Colorado Springs, I consider my local Muslim colleague, Imam Arshad Yusoufi, to be a friend and confidant although we have not yet had the chance to get our communities together for any dialogue or activities. Ah, so much to do…but that’s something I surely needn’t tell you, this being the middle of Ramadan!<br /><br />Imam Feisal, I hardly need to point out that prominence is a two-edged sword. It enables one to accomplish things that the relative unknown cannot. Of course a danger of prominence is that the fame can be intoxicating. And of course, the more dangerous aspect is that one can often unwittingly attract attention of the unwelcome kind: attention that questions one’s motives and integrity. I have experienced this, but on a very small scale. You, of course are now experiencing a tidal wave of such attention.<br /><br />Of course, I refer to the firestorm of protests that seem to have consumed the nation for the last three weeks or so, since your proposal for Cordoba House has become such widely-reported news. Very strong words have come forth, impugning your intentions. Some of your supporters have suggested that the negative expressions represent a general anti-Muslim feeling – many call it, Islamophobia – that already existed in our land, and which the feelings that your project elicited have simply brought to the surface.<br /><br />Being an attentive observer of the public discourse, and in particular being a Jew with roots in New York, I want to tell you that I don’t see America as being infected with Islamophobia, if such a thing could even be said to exist.<br /><br />Americans tended to have very ambivalent feelings about my people, the Jews, and my religion, Judaism at least until the Second World War. So, what happened to change that? The war itself, of course – and the experience of so many Christian kids landing on Omaha Beach, marching across Europe, and diving into foxholes next to a Jewish kid from New York or Philadelphia. As that march across Europe wound toward its conclusion, those Christian kids saw the heartbreak of the Nazi concentration camps, and saw how deeply the sight affected their Jewish comrades – many of whom had only shallow roots in America and still had family in Europe.<br /><br />If those Christian kids had any ambivalence about their Jewish fellow citizens left after those experiences, they vanished for most in the post-war years when so many ex-GIs crowded American colleges and universities, and began to move out of traditionally ethnic neighborhoods in America’s cities to settle in the new, and culturally-diverse suburbs. Thanks to all that history, we Jews are so accepted in the American scene that it is sometime breathtaking when one considers that before the war, we were not welcome in various businesses, clubs, and even whole towns across the land.<br /><br />Imam, most Americans want to – and do – judge Muslims positively. Look at the proof. Since 1990, we have spilled our own blood no fewer than five times in order to help Muslim peoples in various parts of the world: Kuwait, Somalia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq. This has happened under administrations and congresses representing both our major political parties, conservatives and liberals, so our willingness to defend Muslims abroad is clearly not what one would call a ‘political’ issue – it transcends politics.<br /><br />After the shocking and sad events of September 11th, 2001, what did President George W. Bush do? He told the nation unequivocally that we are at war, not with Islam or the Muslim people, but with a group that attacked and wants to destroy us in the name of Islam. He urged all Americans to look favorably upon their Muslim neighbors, to not hold them accountable for what had been done in the name of their religion. He took a lot of flak for his statements, which were interpreted in some circles as being an expression of ‘political correctness,’ itself an unfortunate element in our public discourse, and something of which you’re surely aware. For my part, I believe that Bush’s statements were straight from the heart, an expression of his deepest sense of what’s right. After all, even his detractors knew him as a devoutly religious man with a sincere respect for others’ religions as well as his own.<br /><br />Of course, our current president has surpassed even his immediate predecessor in terms of outreach to, and expression of solidarity with, the Muslim world. That President Obama’s first television interview after his inauguration was to al Arabiya, and that his first trips abroad as president included Turkey and Egypt, were pregnant with meaning. They elicited, as with Bush’s post-9/11 statements, both praise and criticism.<br /><br />No, Imam…our nation and our people are not Islamophobic, this despite the charges that have been made regularly in the left-wing commentariat over the last couple of weeks.<br /><br />What we are is basically unfamiliar with the Islam of our neighbors, which unfortunately gets drowned out in the noise created by the Islam of Al Qaida, Hamas, and Ahmadinejad. We’re perplexed. Although Muslims are ubiquitous in American life, they occupy a fringe. In a sense, your people occupy a place in American life that is analogous to that of my people up until the war; they are recognized as being part of the fabric of American society, but are little understood because most Americans have not had a close friendship with one of their Muslim neighbors. And honestly, that’s not entirely the fault of non-Muslims. Frankly, you have not been all that good at being approachable, and telling your story to America.<br /><br />But you surely know this, since the website for the Cordoba House suggests that the Park51 venue would be used specifically as a place where such connections could be made through creative and welcoming programs.<br /><br />The problem of course, is that you’ve misread the mood of America in selecting 51 Park Place as the address of your new center. That it is located only yards from ‘Ground Zero’ and is in fact the site of a building that was severely damaged in the fall of the Twin Towers, has resulted in a majority of Americans (according to the most recent polling data) thinking negatively about your project.<br /><br />The way I see it, your only ‘sin’ in all this is a lack of clairvoyance which caused you to act in miscalculation of what the national mood concerning this issue would be. But you have the power to turn this miscalculation into a tremendous public relations success, not to mention as my tradition would put it, a Kiddush Hashem, a sanctification of G-d’s name. How can you accomplish this? Easily: Call a press conference and announce that, while the law cannot prevent you from erecting your center at 51 Park Place, you wish to honor the sensibilities of America by deciding to build it on another site. Ask for assistance from local government and any groups with an interest, on selecting an alternate site. Imagine the goodwill that would result! And with that goodwill, your Cordoba House would be far better positioned to fulfill your prayers as to what it would accomplish. My fear is that, if you build it at 51 Park, it will only serve as a permanent symbol of division and rancor. And you surely deserve a better result for your most well-intentioned efforts to build bridges.<br /><br />My best wishes for you as you return from travelling abroad and continue your days of fasting and introspection…<br /><br />Rabbi Don Levy<br />Temple Beit Torah<br />Colorado Springs, Colorado</div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-32304815124088050722010-05-14T13:39:00.000-07:002010-05-14T13:49:54.940-07:00Bemidbar<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmgaOdAZRdo1CMvgpcEYyMZ3tz-AalaXJADjnixaxUdUxdHAfG6seYE-Ozf1wlXQZtEtaLc7fa2rytPjzLI8Dla_WM8YfBLXu3b5mvG3dEnadKTmaCKzxtszPjunbcVHcBbGRvbUe-Dc/s1600/desert.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471230756583945730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAmgaOdAZRdo1CMvgpcEYyMZ3tz-AalaXJADjnixaxUdUxdHAfG6seYE-Ozf1wlXQZtEtaLc7fa2rytPjzLI8Dla_WM8YfBLXu3b5mvG3dEnadKTmaCKzxtszPjunbcVHcBbGRvbUe-Dc/s400/desert.jpg" /></a><br /><div><strong>Get Something Out of the Wilderness…<br />Then Get Out of the Wilderness!<br />A Sermon for Parashat Bemidbar<br />Donald A. Levy<br /></strong><br />This week’s portion, Bemidbar, opens the Book of Numbers, the fourth book of the five in the Written Torah. I know I offer this kind of knowledge repeatedly, but I’ll say it again. In larger circles we call the book, Numbers, because the theme that runs through the book is the taking of a census that will enable Moses and Aaron to organize the people Israel into an army of conquest. In Jewish circles we call the book – and therefore the book’s opening weekly portion – Bemidbar because the book opens with the words: “Vay’dabeir Adonai el Moshe bemidbar Sinai…” “Then Adonai spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai…” The word midbar is often translated “desert” because the Sinai certainly meets the description of a desert landscape: unpopulated, dry, hot in the summer days and cold in the winter and nights. But the word “wilderness” is something broader in scope, meaning a place of challenge and possibility.<br /><br />So the people Israel were in the wilderness – during the 40 years’ wandering – when the events chronicled in this book took place. But the wilderness, through which they wandered, was more than just a physical wilderness.<br /><br />After a lifetime in Egypt – a narrow place of limited horizons and possibilities – the people were not ready to enter the promised land and to be a free people under the sovereignty of God until they had spend time in a wilderness. They needed to stop clinging to the safe, the familiar, the limiting. They had to have the chutzpah to reach for the possible, to re-imagine themselves as free people in a free land.<br /><br />Folks, we often wallow in our own Egypts, places of comfort and familiarity, places of settled routines and predictability, instead of experiencing our wilderness, truly as a wilderness – a place where a better person can be forged. These qualities – comfort, familiarity, settled routines, predictability – are not in and of themselves bad. All of the aforementioned, in certain amounts, give us the courage to move forward into unfamiliar ground. But when our hearts and minds remain in a narrow place, we preclude the wilderness from being able to help forge us into the people we have the potential to be.<br /><br />Look, I know this theme, and some of the details I’ll now proceed to give, are familiar to many of you. I’ve propounded these ideas from the platform again and again. And I’ll keep doing so until I have evidence that most of you ‘get’ it.<br /><br />The element that limits us to a ‘narrow’ place so often, is the mindset that we lack something that someone else has. We limit our own potential by seeing ourselves, who we are and what we’ve achieved in the shadow of what someone else is, and what they’ve achieved.<br /><br />This week, I encountered someone who has incredible talents, talents that I wish I had. Talents that I can only dream of. But this person can only think of what she doesn’t have and she is therefore feeling miserable right now.<br /><br />If only my kids were smarter, if only my salary were more generous, if only more people cooperated with me, if only my husband were more helpful. Please, please, please…don’t try to decode the identity of who I’m talking about. It could be any one of us!<br /><br />Folks, I want to draw your attention to my face. Is it a nice face? Most people wouldn’t think so. Hollywood only casts men with faces like mine, as villains. Women with faces like mine? They don’t get cast at all! No matter what I do in life, no matter what goodness I spread or don’t…there’s a portion of humanity that will see my face and typecast me as loathsome.<br /><br />I don’t say this to complain. Rather I want to point out that I am among the happiest people in this room. Why? Because I have learned to say, the hell with the ridiculous stereotype! I’m going to reach for the best that’s in me. Have I reached it? No, like everyone else in this room I’m a work in progress. Each day, I learn something new about what I can do and think about where God would have me go, what God would have me do. Every day is a blessing from God. Every day represents new opportunities. Every day I have a new opportunity to reach toward the person that I will eventually become. That’s the key to escaping from the narrow place, the limiting Egypt of our minds and letting our sojourn in the wilderness truly open us up and let us spread our wings.<br /><br />So you want to be happy? Become a rabbi! Just kidding! Figure out what you’re supposed to become, and work your way toward that vision of yourselves by dropping the narrow vision of yourselves that you’re carrying around, and carrying around, and carrying around until your poor back is hunched under the oppressive weight of that vision!<br /><br />Celebrate your kids, even though they’re insufferable, because they’re a gift from God. But at the same time, understand that they need you to be a parent – and sometimes that entails pushing them beyond their comfort zone.<br /><br />Celebrate your profession, even if your salary isn’t as high as you’d like it to be, because it’s your calling. And if it’s not, find what is your calling and find a way to pursue it. Perhaps in so doing, you’ll end up achieving a higher salary. Or more likely, you’ll realize that the size of your salary isn’t nearly as important as any number of other things.<br /><br />I know someone – actually, I’ve known several individuals – who actually moved from careers with higher salaries to careers with lower salaries in order to respond to the calling that was within them. In so doing, they had to live more modestly, but they became happier! For some, this entails leaving the business world for teaching. And that does not negate that for some, teaching feels limiting to them and they can only find their vocational happiness by leaving teaching behind for something else.<br /><br />I have spoken before about the importance of weighing decisions, because when we choose between various alternatives that has a way of constricting our choices in the future. For example, what we do when we are young can limit our possibilities later. Want to be an astronaut? You have to be a military pilot first. So you want to be a military pilot? First, take those silly earbuds out of your ear, because you need perfect hearing to be accepted for pilot training. Also, don’t experiment with drugs, or get in any kind of trouble beyond a minor traffic violation or you won’t be accepted. And get your act in gear before the age of 27, because 27 is the maximum age to enter pilot training. If you want to be an astronaut, and therefore first a pilot, you’d best grow up fast, keep your nose squeaky clean, and focus yourself early.<br /><br />Okay, so you didn’t do all those things…or perhaps you were born with some physical limitation that precludes you from military pilot training, or perhaps you tried but didn’t make the cut. If means you’re much less likely to be an astronaut. But maybe there’s something else within you, something that if you achieve it, it will also make you happy. But you’ll never find it if you spend your life feeling sorry for yourself because you couldn’t be an astronaut.<br /><br />I mention this specific thing – being an astronaut – because I have a dear friend who dreamed of being one. And he was definitely on the way to becoming one. He was an Air Force fighter pilot, then a test pilot, earned a scientific master’s degree and even asked me to teach him Russian and sat many hours in my living room, conjugating Russian verbs with me. Ya lublyu. Ty lyubish. On lyubit. My lyubim. Vy lybitye. Ony lyubyut. And that’s not to mention aspect! Mne prosto zhal! Why did he want to learn Russian? Because of our partnership with the Russians in the International Space Station, he thought being able to speak some Russian would help him transcend other candidates for astronaut training.<br /><br />Well, he never made the cut. But he went on to other things and has a very successful, happy life. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, he went on to new challenges. He’s an executive in a big corporation, a Colonel in the Air Force reserve…and is running for the Indiana State House. One of his twins attends the Air Force Academy, and the other Purdue. What does he have to complain about? Nothing…so he doesn’t. But many of us, if put in his position would let the one thing we didn’t achieve, fester and annoy and ruin anything and everything else that we did achieve.<br /><br />And what if he had become an astronaut. Well, this man probably would have found it fulfilling and happiness-inducing. But what about Lisa Nowak? Recognize the name? She was a young naval officer, a Captain – same as a full Colonel in the other armed services – who made the cut and became an astronaut. And yet she was incredibly unhappy, so much so that she lost it all by terrorizing a romantic rival. From being an elite of the elite, she ended up in a Florida jail among prostitutes and drug addicts because of the chip on her shoulder that blinded her to the happiness that she lacked but, by all accounts, should have enjoyed.<br /><br />Friends, wilderness is a part of life. Each of us, at some time, must pass through a wilderness if we are to leave behind the narrow horizons that limit us. So we step into a wilderness to our choosing in hopes that it will forge us into the person we have the potential to become. But that transition – from what we are to what we may become – is not automatic! Until we’re ready to let our wilderness improve us, and let us grow, and open our eyes to what limits us so that we can leave it on the desert floor…then we’re going to remain stuck in the wilderness.<br /><br />If we continue to feel sorry for ourselves because somebody out there is more attractive, or smarter, or makes a better salary, or has a nicer house or less debt or more savings…we will never achieve happiness. And the tragedy is that there is no limit in the number of happy lives possible in the world; like personal wealth, happiness is not rationed. That my neighbor achieved it, doesn’t give me one less chance to achieve it.<br /><br />If you’re in a narrow place, step into the wilderness. And when you’re ready to allow the wilderness to do its work, then you’ll be ready to get out of the wilderness. The wilderness is a good place, because it can help us to become what we might become. But at some point, we must also have the courage to step out of the wilderness and into the garden of possibilities.<br /><br />This transition – from narrow place to wilderness to garden of possibilities – took the Israelites 40 years. Each one of us has the ability to make the transition far faster. May each of us find within us the strength and courage to make that transition and thus become the happy people we can be. </div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-42847922642714984622009-11-27T15:01:00.000-08:002009-11-27T15:07:33.958-08:00Sermon for Vayetzei/Thanksgiving<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ea7lJlQJbxge6L43XZtDfwor4_gWaiCiyqbIDc60nT945RMsJOu0Ccwnf5lVSKsMn1H6dNY-C00AEv8lx-pxUojdZg-AXmiOXqkLlvxkrHUz9lcz1IgyZAO4sla12XCHSMDQGzZi6_g/s1600/the_first_thanksgiving_jean_louis_gerome_ferris.png"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408923133301059282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Ea7lJlQJbxge6L43XZtDfwor4_gWaiCiyqbIDc60nT945RMsJOu0Ccwnf5lVSKsMn1H6dNY-C00AEv8lx-pxUojdZg-AXmiOXqkLlvxkrHUz9lcz1IgyZAO4sla12XCHSMDQGzZi6_g/s400/the_first_thanksgiving_jean_louis_gerome_ferris.png" /></a><br /><div>The Power of Dreams<br />Rabbi Don Levy<br />Parashat Vayetzei<br />27 November 2009<br /><br />I woke up violently in the middle of the night last night; I had had a nightmare. In it, I was in bed – and the bed was in the middle of a road. And a bus was bearing down on the bed. In the dream, I jumped to get out of bed. And as often happens in nightmares, I jumped physically as well, waking Clara and leaving me to explain that everything was okay, I’d just had a nightmare.<br /><br />Afterward, the dream continued. The bus, it turned out, was a tour bus. It was there, because I had taken on the job of organizing a tour of some Jewish museums in Los Angeles. The job did not turn out well. Around every corner of the tour, I kept getting snowed under by details I hadn’t taken care of adequately.<br /><br />Some dreams are easy to figure out, but this one was perplexing. I’ve organized a couple of tours, but never in LA – only to Israel. And neither tour was a disaster for lack of adequate planning, although there were glitches to be sure. The first one went off reasonably well, and the second one was a resounding success. I don’t say this to brag, only to point to the perplexing nature of my dream last night.<br /><br />I remember when I was studying psychology in college, and we viewed a film entitled ‘To Sleep, Perchance to Dream,’ about the phenomenon of dreams. The film made it clear that despite the title’s being taken from Hamlet’s famous ‘To Be or Not to Be’ soliloquy, there was no perchance in the equation. When we sleep, we dream. Period. All night. We only remember a small portion of our dreams: those which occur during a certain part of the sleep cycle, and those whose violence awakens us as did mine last night. But during our hours of sleep, we dream an almost-unbroken chain of dreams. These dreams, if remembered and recounted, can provide a valuable insight into our inner selves.<br /><br />When I entered rabbinical school and began to study the Torah in depth, I was immediately fascinated by the portions which chronicle key characters’ dreaming. There is, of course, Jacob’s dream in this week’s portion, followed closely in the text by Joseph and Pharaoh’s dreams of which we’ll hear in the next few weeks. I remembered learning about the power of dreams in college psychology, and I was fascinated by the way the Ancient Rabbis grappled with the meanings of the dreams recorded in the Torah.<br /><br />Jacob’s dream, the account of which I’ve just read from the Torah, is baffling. There’s a ladder that reaches to the heavens, and angels are ascending and descending. And Adonai seems to be overseeing it all. He comforts Jacob by telling him: “I am Adonai, G-d of Abraham and Isaac your forebears. I bequeath the land, upon which you lie, to you and your progeny. Your progeny will multiply like the sand of the earth, and you shall spread out west and east, north and south. All the families of the earth shall be blessed through you. I shall be with you, and will guard you in all your wanderings. And I shall bring you back to this land as I will not abandon you until I will have done as I have promised you.” And Jacob responded by proclaiming: “Adonai was in this place and I did not know it.”<br /><br />The simple meaning of the dream is that Jacob is being torn away from his land of residence as he is fleeing from his brother Esau’s murderous wrath, and G-d is comforting him by telling him that all will be well with him. But as was their habit, the Rabbis saw deeper, more hidden meanings in the dream. They saw the angels as the great empires of history, and their ascent and descent of the ladder as the rise and fall of those empires while the progeny of Jacob – the people Israel – would endure and flourish even after all of the former had been vanquished to the history books.<br /><br />The Rabbis’ real point was to comfort the people, who were suffering under the mighty power of Rome at the time the Midrash was framed. Rome would fall, as had Assyria before that as we know from the Hanukkah story, as had Egypt before that as we know from the Exodus story. And so human history would unfold, but the destiny of the people Israel would endure.<br /><br />The British historian Paul Kennedy, who wrote <em>The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers</em> back in the 1980’s, would agree in part with the Rabbis’ interpretation. Kennedy saw in the pattern of human history the rise of one superpower, followed by its plateau and its decline, followed by the rise of another superpower to replace it. His point was clearly a warning to his ‘smug’ American cousins; their century would come to an end, and another great empire would take their place at the acme of humanity. Just as the American Empire had long since eclipsed that of his own country. Given the economic meltdown we’ve experienced, one might reasonably be inclined to accept Kennedy’s thesis and see in China the next great power on the ascent.<br /><br />It is fashionable in some circles to see our country in the context of Kennedy’s thesis. We’re just another in a line of empires that had their day and then waned into relative insignificance as their stars dimmed. To this mindset, the idea of American Exceptionalism is but a mirage, a pie-in-the-sky notion that belies the reality. Those who hold that the American experiment is something unique in human history are just deluding themselves in the hope that our nation will uniquely break the pattern, and that our power will remain ascendant forever.<br /><br />I guess it’s no secret to most in this room that I reject the idea of America’s fitting into this neat pattern. I believe with all my heart in the Exceptionalism of the American experience. I guess this comes in part from my long residencies in other countries, from my listening to citizens of those lands express the values of their nations and contrasting them to those that characterize America.<br /><br />Those who see America as just another in a line of empires would like me and those who hold my view to focus on America’s flaws and see her as tainted by the faults of all empires from the get-go. We came, we saw, we conquered, we displaced, we despoiled…and now we’re on the wane. Why should we see ourselves as any different?<br /><br />But the very holiday we have just celebrated points out the difference. The Pilgrims of the Mayflower, quirky though they might have been, came with a sublime vision of creating G-d’s Kingdom on these shores. They didn’t come to displace the natives who then very sparsely inhabited the continent. Rather, they sought harmony with them as they worked hard to pursue their own vision of a City on a hill – a phrase used in a famous sermon by John Winthrop, one of the leaders of the Pilgrim Fathers, borrowed from the Gospel according to St. Matthew and later borrowed by President Ronald Reagan. With lapses – no nation is perfect, after all – their progeny and those who joined them in fleeing the Old World kept alive this vision, and sought to build a society anchored by a different basis here. A number of you in this room, having been born elsewhere, can attest to and celebrate this difference. Even today, people flock to our land because it is different in a positive way. For every immigrant who succeeds in coming here there are many who unfortunately don’t make the cut and can only dream of coming here some day.<br /><br />Does this view cast aspersions on other nations, as some would say? Of course not; it only recognizes on these shores a unique dynamic that continues to attract the best of the other nations who bring their unique contributions to the American enterprise. Each nation has its strengths, but America manages to uniquely assimilate the strengths that members of those nations bring when they join us. I can tell you first hand from my long sojourns abroad that the Turks, the Greeks, and the Germans are unable to do this. The British can to a certain extent. Our British cousins are far more able than most nations, to accept immigrants from other places and incorporate them in their nation and draw from their strengths. But they cannot match the energy of the American nation because – as I see it – they cannot define what is the essence of British-ness. When Britannia ruled the waves, she saw her mastery of the world as her essence. In the waning of her Empire, she has yet to define what her enduring values are. Britons struggle with this question – what are our values as a nation? – every day. America’s enduring values, while they were certainly highlighted during our reign as the world’s most powerful nation, are dependent on something other than being a world power.<br /><br />Only Israel, tiny Israel, has a quality of destiny approaching that of America’s. Despite the insignificance to which her tiny size and beleaguered condition would logically consign her, Israel matters far out of proportion: in terms of creative energy, in terms of good works among the less-fortunate nations, in terms of assimilating each wave of immigrants in turn while at the same time being shaped by those immigrants’ unique contributions.<br /><br />This really should come as no surprise. From the time of the Pilgrims, the thinkers who most shaped American life were students of the Torah and were imbued with a philo-Judaism that shaped their worldview and their plan for the American nation. It is fashionable – again, in some circles – to see the philo-Israelism of their contemporary counterparts as a desire for Israel to play a role in the playing-out of a certain apocalyptic vision of the Christian writings. But that’s not the attraction for Israel by some of our Christian neighbors. Rather, they see America as deliberately constructed in the mold in which G-d forged Israel – and blessed with power and influence because of it.<br /><br />This unique tie-in of destinies – America’s and Israel’s – is what led to the unique relationship of our two nations. It is not the power of American Jews; we’re far too fractious a group to exert the kind of influence that our detractors often accuse us of wielding. When we read the account of Jacob’s dream this week and annually when we read the portion Vayetzei, we should take comfort from the Rabbis’ understanding of this passage. We can recognize now, as they did then, that the people Israel represent something unique in human history that will endure when all the other powers have waned. Likewise, we can look at the non-Jewish nations who have developed and celebrated a philo-Judaism: to an extent Great Britain but even more so the United States of America. We see in the assimilation of the lessons of ancient Israel, the source of our nation’s goodness and strength.<br /><br />It is tempting to see America as just another in a chain of superpowers a la Paul Kennedy’s thesis in <em>The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers</em>. It takes a great onus off our backs. If we’re just another superpower on the wane, then we might as well forget the burdens we’ve taken on as a nation. Instead, like the Europeans, let’s become pragmatic and focus on prolonging our own affluence. We don’t have to feel a responsibility for less-fortunate peoples. Freed from the burden of being the World’s Policeman, we will have the resources to build a utopian, cradle-to-grave welfare state in the mold of Sweden. We can even turn our backs on Israel, and pragmatically seek the favor of her enemies in the Arab and Islamic world.<br /><br />But perhaps the interesting convergence of the American festival of Thanksgiving, and the reading of the account of Jacob’s dream will serve to remind us of the two unique and yet dovetailing destinies that we as Jewish Americans enjoy. At least, I hope it will. Because it is true that the great nations of the world have historically, and will continue to, rise and fall. But G-d has promised that the tiny people Israel will endure because they matter far out of proportion to their numbers. America is much larger and more powerful and has ruled as the reigning superpower in the world for a number of decades. Perhaps our economic, political, and military power has been, or is in the process of being, eclipsed by that of China and even India. But if we Americans continue to make America mean something more, something far more divinely inspired, then our significance like that of tiny Israel will continue to matter. May this be so as we remember the dream of our Pilgrim Fathers and seek to keep it alive. Happy Thanksgiving and Shabbat Shalom. </div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-45797825477352061222009-10-29T09:43:00.000-07:002009-10-29T09:48:46.597-07:00Got Your Marching Orders?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlAt8pP4Zhl3HoPn9mTi7D1vT69W7i3wgAUaz5hrrweFZCjs_TfBZlj3E8Eu9DgIvDafreTzoJIYsPfjLZi45JLrf9lePRGa2QWTF9XFXauSJ2oSSogwrpmFSoLUIT2ZNMJAIOJ5-oqk/s1600-h/abraham's+journey.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 433px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398064196208408802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrlAt8pP4Zhl3HoPn9mTi7D1vT69W7i3wgAUaz5hrrweFZCjs_TfBZlj3E8Eu9DgIvDafreTzoJIYsPfjLZi45JLrf9lePRGa2QWTF9XFXauSJ2oSSogwrpmFSoLUIT2ZNMJAIOJ5-oqk/s400/abraham's+journey.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Below is my D'var Torah for this week. Enjoy!</div><br /><div></div><div>I grew up greatly admiring some of the great explorers of history. Vasco da Gama. Christopher Columbus. Ferdinand Magellan. James Cook. William Bligh. Okay, maybe not so much William Bligh; he was definitely a bold explorer, but his legacy is obviously mixed. Lewis and Clark. Roald Amundsen. Richard Byrd. Amelia Earhardt. Neil Armstrong. This isn’t an exhaustive list; there are many more!<br /></div><br /><div>Living lives that center so much on familiar ground and familiar routines, we admire those who are able to break free, who go forth boldly with confidence. But that’s not to say that we plan to emulate them. We wish we had their chutzpah, but our self-awareness informs us that we largely do not. We find comfort in the familiar. The great explorers of history are admirable primarily because they did what we know we cannot.<br /></div><br /><div>And yet most of us, at one time of another in the course of our lives, will venture into uncharted territory. Some will do it unintentionally. It will take us out of our ‘comfort zone.’ But when it happens and we end up acquitting ourselves well we can and should celebrate our accomplishment. Modest accomplishment is still accomplishment. Not all of us can be a Christopher Columbus, but each of us can rise to the occasion when forced out of our usual box.<br /></div><div>In this week’s Torah portion, Abraham is forced out of his box. He didn’t set out to break new ground. But he received a call. G-d called him to step outside his box, to go forth in trust and confidence, to perform the audacious act of breaking with the patterns of his past. And he did. The reason we revere Abraham today, the reason we identify with him, is that he had the courage to step out and see the possibilities over the horizon.<br /></div><div>Most of us would not ascribe to ourselves a Divine Call. Our rational sides don’t see G-d as interfering in our lives and charging us with a new mission. And yet, there are times in our lives when we see a clear vision of what we’re supposed to do. If those clear visions defy the existing, rational plans and notions of what we’re supposed to do with our lives, then our response is often to squelch the visions. Most of us try to stay on the rational side of life, and for good reason.<br />But sometimes the vision of what we’re supposed to do, despite being in conflict with accepted ‘wisdom,’ is so clear that we are compelled to follow it. I have to tell you that I made my best decisions in life, those which led to lasting good for myself and for others, when I defied reason and followed such visions. And that was certainly the case with Abraham.<br /></div><br /><div>Abraham’s life comes to us through the narrative largely as a life lived for good. If we’re reading only the simple text, we might take issue with him on a couple of points, but the Torah does not lend itself well to that sort of fundamentalist reading. No, we’re supposed to read between the lacunae and read the ‘story behind the story.’ That’s the enterprise called ‘midrash.’ Much midrash has already been done for us, but there is additional midrash to discover.<br /></div><br /><div>Abraham went forth on faith, and found his way to a land flowing with milk and honey, but that isn’t the end of the story. He then kept his retinue alive during a famine. And he took to the field at the head of an army to rescue his nephew, Lot and fellow residents of Sodom and Gomorrah in the war of the kings. And he later argued with G-d for the lives of those same people. And he was willing to give everything to G-d, even the son for whom he had prayed so long. Through it all, Abraham was imperfect – that is to say, human. But his legacy is a life lived large, a life that mattered, a life that impacted for the good on so many. And it started with his answering a call, responding positively to a specific vision.<br /></div><br /><div>Each of us will receive our call, our vision at a different time and to a different cause. Our task is not to be chomping at the bit to break free from the fetters of a predictable life. Rather, it is to be open to that vision when it comes. To discern that vision. To differentiate between the vision for good, and the interference of the desires of our eyes. It isn’t easy. It can be frightening. But if we are to reach our own potential, there will come a time when we will have to Go Forth.<br />There is a delightful midrash of a Rabbi Zusya, a midrash that I retell often. Zusya, nearing the end of his life, was ashamed of the smallness of his accomplishments and cried out to G-d: “I’m sorry I wasn’t an Abraham, I wasn’t a Moses!”<br /></div><br /><div>G-d’s response was: “I don’t blame you for not being Abraham or Moses. I blame you for not being Zusya.”<br /></div><br /><div>In other words, our clear vision of what we should do is not only a possibility – it is a sort of marching order. If we are true to ourselves, we will respond positively. Even if, and when, it is not convenient. Even when it is not comfortable. Even when conventional ‘wisdom’ would tell us to ignore it and take a different path. Because if we ignore it, we will not be able to rise to the greatest potential that is within us. Unlike Zusya, who pleased G-d simply by being not only Zusya but the best Zusya he could be. Who, at the end of his life, did not need to be ashamed of accomplishing more. Rather, when we don’t answer the call we will be forced to go through life thinking ‘if only.’</div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-91718627056289661712009-10-26T08:43:00.000-07:002009-10-29T09:43:46.382-07:00Don't Ask Don't Tell...Again<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aEGieb1UoEKW-TpCmF0bAw7XTn6kF1mS2Gl1HCEFj_AlnQRmcC5crFFPcQIIM11CkP1vOAXZHfueh4XVDgG-wOU0DHq_tof7NlNJeNPQ7fAAOywojVVj4vmlwRZYM5iJsWCh9r6MMyg/s1600-h/obama+gays.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 462px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396944337411265522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aEGieb1UoEKW-TpCmF0bAw7XTn6kF1mS2Gl1HCEFj_AlnQRmcC5crFFPcQIIM11CkP1vOAXZHfueh4XVDgG-wOU0DHq_tof7NlNJeNPQ7fAAOywojVVj4vmlwRZYM5iJsWCh9r6MMyg/s400/obama+gays.jpg" /></a><br /><div>I want to start this post by telling you that this is <em>not</em> one of my hot-button issues. I believe that Don't Ask Don't Tell should be repealed, but I don't see it as one of the most compelling issues facing our country at this time. I think there are far more pressing things on the President's plate, on which he seems to be dithering. Afghanistan, for one. But having posted before my advocacy for repealing this law, and seeing that there has been some additional talk about its repeal, I feel compelled to comment on it again for the sake of clarity.</div><br /><div></div><div>Earlier this month, President Obama declared in a speech before the Human Rights Campaign, a gay civil rights advocacy group: "I <em>will </em>end Don't Ask Don't Tell." This elicited a standing ovation, even though the President offered no promise of a timetable or specific steps he was planning to take toward the promised end. I'm sure he has learned the lesson of Presidnet Bill Clinton, who aimed to tackle the same issue - gays and lesbians serving openly in the military - at the very start of his presidency and got himself embroiled in the fight over the issue that produced the DADT Law to begin with! (I think it's good when a sitting president learns from his predecessors; I wish Obama would also have learned from Clinton's unhappy Health Care Reform experience, but it seems he has not. But I digress...)</div><div></div><br /><div>Clearly, conservatives in general are not for the repeal of DADT, and in advocating for its repeal I have 'broken ranks.' But that does not bother me...I'm not running for election to any office, and frankly I find that conservatives tend to be far more independent-minded than liberals in any case.</div><br /><div></div><div>If you remember from my original post on this subject, I expressed my opposition to DADT on two grounds: Ideological, and Pragmatic. Recent information from the Department of Defense has indicated that all the military services have exceeded their recruiting and retention goals in the recently-ended fiscal year. Many conservatives would argue that this kills the Pragmatic grounds for repealing DADT - if indeed it every existed. If all the services are exceeding their goals without the repeal of DADT, both in pure numbers and in terms of quality of manpower, then that kills the Pragmatic argument, doesn't it?</div><br /><div></div><div>Perhaps. But the cases of Dan Choi and USAF Lt Colonel Victor Fehrenbach, among others, point to the fact that the armed forced are being denied services of highly decorated and esteemed troops because of sexual orientation.</div><br /><div></div><div>And of course, this doesn't speak at all to the Ideological argument for repealing DADT. And I think that argument, made in my original post, is compelling.</div><br /><div></div><div>I will be curious to see if President Obama's statement to the HRC will be the start of a congressional push to act legislatively on the issue. I hope so. It's a simple issue and won't require a 1000+ page bill! </div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-72152372940442834232009-10-23T12:59:00.000-07:002009-10-23T13:01:51.326-07:00Remember the Rainbow<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJUqwxQndC18Xy5iIuY29QPjyF_e3f5YP8Qx9o8-qPM8o9rqk_sV4-kf5AneWM8dinCVnewaw2fzIsXSxt9OOwyiyOY2cmoobTtb5IVo9HbBkBQZvGdkWZsRvCDo3RWrf5WJJrZIDYp0/s1600-h/niagara+falls+rainbow.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395888070404460866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJUqwxQndC18Xy5iIuY29QPjyF_e3f5YP8Qx9o8-qPM8o9rqk_sV4-kf5AneWM8dinCVnewaw2fzIsXSxt9OOwyiyOY2cmoobTtb5IVo9HbBkBQZvGdkWZsRvCDo3RWrf5WJJrZIDYp0/s400/niagara+falls+rainbow.jpg" /></a><br /><div>This is my 'd'var Torah' I'm giving this evening at Temple Beit Torah. Enjoy!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I was a rabbinical student, I had a student pulpit for two years in Niagara Falls, New York. As is the case with all work locations, this one had its ups and downs. One of the most aesthetically pleasing aspects of my visits to Niagara Falls, was that the hotel where I stayed was very close to the Falls themselves. I often had occasion to view spectacular rainbows, either from the park right outside my hotel, or sometimes, even from the window of my room.<br /><br />In this week’s Torah portion we read that the rainbow is a symbol of G-d’s promise not to destroy all life with a flood ever again. It’s a sign of His ‘peace treaty’ with humanity. When we look upon the rainbow, we are supposed to take heart that G-d, no matter how badly provoked, will not destroy us and our world.<br /><br />There is some midrash on why G-d choose specifically the rainbow as a this sign of His peaceful intent. The midrash focuses on the shape and orientation of the bow.<br /><br />Of course, the bow shape alludes to a war bow, as in a bow-and-arrow. The rabbis noted that, at the end of a battle between two armies on the ground, the side suing for peace would unload and unstring their bows and hold them vertically as a sign of their peaceful intent. That way, the other side would not suspect trickery.<br /><br />The word ‘rainbow’ does not appear in the text, just the Hebrew word ‘keshet’ which simply means ‘bow,’ as in something bow-shaped, which is the same word used for a war-bow. So there is some justification to see that symbolism in the rainbow.<br /><br />Of course, most of us look upon a rainbow and see something entirely different. The moisture in the air, whether from rainfall or from the mist rising from a massive waterfall, acts as a prism that takes the light passing through it and splits it into the different colors since each color has a different wavelength. (I’m really pretty clueless about physics and the other natural sciences, but this is something I seem to remember from high school.)<br /><br />So, when we look upon the rainbow, we see a natural phenomenon. And the scientific reason for the bands of color is that the light-waves are different lengths. The splitting of the visible light into the seven basic colors just shows us that those are the colors, from which all other shades and hues are made.<br /><br />Or is it ‘just’?<br /><br />In the natural world, at least when there is a lot of ambient light, we are presented with a dazzling array of color. But when we see all visible light broken down to the seven different hues of the rainbow – orange, indigo, violet, yellow, red, blue, green – then we are reminded of the completeness of our world. Even though on any given day we might see more grey or more white than we wish, the rainbow reminds us that everything is there, if only we will see it all. And the rainbow itself helps us to see ‘it all’ even if our tendency to see only what’s immediately apparent often gets in the way.<br /><br />In other words, the rainbow can help us to see the essential completeness of the world around us.<br /><br />We all know the Hebrew word for ‘peace’ – shalom. Guess what? The root of the word ‘shalom’ means ‘completeness.’ In other words, ‘shalom’ is not merely an absence of fighting – that’s an armistice, or ‘hafsakat yeri.’ “Cease fire’ would be a direct translation of the Hebrew. No, the real intent of the word ‘shalom’ is completeness, the presence of all that is necessary for one’s well-being. A cease-fire is usually a good thing – every military strategist knows that it can also be a bad thing if it merely gives the enemy an opportunity to recoup his losses and prepare for the next battle. But it is not ‘peace.’<br /><br />Of course, anybody here who lived through the Sixties is aware of the equating of the rainbow with the concept of ‘peace.’ Perhaps after the sign of the broken cross, the rainbow was the most widely-used symbol of peace then, and now.<br /><br />So, here’s one of those happy convergences where the traditionalist’s understanding of the origin of the rainbow, and the science-minded person’s very different understanding – lead to the same basic conclusion. The rainbow is a sign of peace- probably the Perfect Sign. And as such, it is a sign of hope. If your enemy has unstrung his bow and is pointing it upwards, that’s a sign of hope. If, during a rain squall one can discern that all the colors are present, that’s a sign of hope. Hope is, unfortunately something that is usually in short supply.<br /><br />I didn’t see a rainbow today. But I read the Torah and came across the reference to the rainbow as a sign of peace and, therefore hope. Don’t fail to see the signs counseling hope around us – whether in the realm of nature, or in the Holy text we read. To have the hope, and to march forward confidently in its glow – that is the most important thing. </div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-61489101388331525552009-10-20T12:56:00.000-07:002009-10-24T08:04:18.012-07:00Town Hall in Colorado SpringsYesterday I attended a town hall meeting - my first - conducted by my representative in the House of Representatives, Doug Lamborn of Colorado's Fifth Congressional District.<br /><br />I have to admit that I attended already well-disposed toward Rep. Lamborn. I agree with many of his views and recently met him personally, walking away thinking him personable and thoughtful. I attended his town hall, planned to focus on the subject of health care reform (big surprise!), to offer my support and see what kind of dialogue would ensue (see my last post).<br /><br />There was a crowd of hecklers, about ten percent of the crowd present according to the Colorado Springs Gazette reporter present, who choose to express their opposition to Lamborn's well-known views by shouting insults repeatedly. The rest of the crowd, split between supporters and detractors judging from signs the various individuals carried and the timing of applause, behaved themselves reasonably well.<br /><br />Whenever Lamborn mentioned the cost of the Democrat Party initiatives, a number of the hecklers shouted repeated challenges concerning the costs of America's fighting two wars; they yelled to get out of Iraq and Afghanistan. If you know me, you know that I'm in favor of both enterprises; even so, a agree that a case could be made against either war. But the heckling seemed pretty comical, considering that the Executive Branch of government (and not the House of Representatives) controls warfighting. I thought every graduate of seventh grade civics would know that.<br /><br />All in all, I thought Doug lamborn did a good job conducting this town hall meeting. He maintained his composure, stood his ground, and yet fielded a number of unfriendly questioners with courtesy and seriousness. I'm proud to be represented by him in congress.Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-151598305970133336.post-7614489034839150342009-10-12T12:04:00.000-07:002009-10-13T09:12:29.149-07:00Conflict - for the Sake of Heaven<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0l8QXX_YcJswAqsQJlF3ybICRP_vxm4OEHvfUx-Bm8cUBYioFsexyhIIYrtyOy8IiCRgY2fDJycHZjxWGfIzHfDlAnq8iZV2Zdv_d2QJmVOac_PtzxVNT4UHcGGGJ6_CNcbdTb7UZ_Js/s1600-h/jewish+argument.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391793802076258306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0l8QXX_YcJswAqsQJlF3ybICRP_vxm4OEHvfUx-Bm8cUBYioFsexyhIIYrtyOy8IiCRgY2fDJycHZjxWGfIzHfDlAnq8iZV2Zdv_d2QJmVOac_PtzxVNT4UHcGGGJ6_CNcbdTb7UZ_Js/s400/jewish+argument.jpg" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgEa7ASUHVkkyDhXSqwASgeLAFb62N_17CPzbh5FvfSHHIX2aq4SUPH7EcOaOmqmpmMg2ozCUCpMPtCokjZgDgtrtX2ClzK1ZYrhwZ_axwLOLzf98m5ZQm-Xoosjq36lCzDEKTl-CMWM/s1600-h/argument.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391793301067192114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRgEa7ASUHVkkyDhXSqwASgeLAFb62N_17CPzbh5FvfSHHIX2aq4SUPH7EcOaOmqmpmMg2ozCUCpMPtCokjZgDgtrtX2ClzK1ZYrhwZ_axwLOLzf98m5ZQm-Xoosjq36lCzDEKTl-CMWM/s400/argument.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /><br /></div><div>I just wrote this essay today; I think it is important enough that I am posting it here and also to my more 'permanent' collection of writings on my website <a href="http://rabbidonlevy.com/Conflict.aspx">(http://rabbidonlevy.com/Conflict.aspx</a>). I also may just use it was the basis of my sermon this Friday evening.<br /><br />The title of this essay is a direct translation of the Hebrew phrase, '<em>mahloket leshem hashamayim</em>.' It’s a rabbinic principle that disagreement and conflict are not intrinsically bad and can be good if channeled toward a good end. Everybody who has studied Judaism deeper than the weekly Torah portion is aware of the long-term conflict between the schools of Hillel and Shamai in the ancient academy. The two schools had completely different approaches to <em>halacha</em> (Jewish law). They disagreed with one another on virtually every point of law over a period spanning generations. But they had a common goal: that the people Israel would work to please G-d by living up to their individual and national responsibilities as G-d’s Chosen People. Because of this mindset, they worked through their disagreements toward a good result for their people.</div><div><br /></div><div><br />The entire Jewish tradition is based on the premise that conflict is a natural and even healthy part of life. Did not Abraham famously argue (respectfully but argue nonetheless) with G-d over the fate of the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah? Was not Jacob re-named Israel (‘he who strives with G-d’) because of his inner conflict over his G-d-ordained destiny? Did not the entire people come to be known by Jacob’s new name? (The appellation ‘Jews’ is later and represents the ancient split between the Northern and Southern kingdoms.)<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>But conflict has developed a bad name these days. Conflict, it is said, can only result in bad things: at the very least, bruised feelings, and at worst, outright war with every intermediate possibility between. To many people, the very existence of conflict indicates failure. As a pastoral counselor, I found this to be the mindset among many married couples on their way to divorce court; at a gut level, they took the fact that they’d had conflict to mean that they’d failed as a couple – that there was no redemption possible. They would never admit that; as I said, it was more at a <em>gut</em> level than a <em>logical</em> level. On a logical level, if we’re honest with ourselves, every occasion where two people disagree can only result in two basic outcomes: one party submerges his/her opinion and goes along with the other; or the two must resolved the disagreement through conflict. And in reality, at the end of the day only the second alternative is likely; one of the parties will likely tend to submerge his/her opinions enough times until he conflict becomes unmanageable. In other words, in one way or another, conflict is an inevitable fact of life for all but the hermit. But we do tend to hold idealized images of certain conditions – including marriage – which blind us to this reality and make it difficult to even accept the existence of conflict. Conflict has acquired, unfairly, a bad name.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Politics is an area where conflict always exists and is always in the open. At the risk of sounding as if I’m over-simplifying things, I’ll point out that there are essentially two competing worldviews in our American political arena: those of the conservative and those of the liberal.<br /></div><div>If you’re a third-party person, a Libertarian or a Green or something else, please don’t flame me! I think that it is not just the two major political parties that are party to this conflict and the divide it creates; the smaller parties pretty much fit in on one side or the other. But that’s another essay, for another time.<br /></div><div> </div><div>Just for the sake of disclosure (if you didn’t pick it up already from any of my earlier posts in this blog), I’ll tell you that I’m a conservative. But as an observer I would point out that both sides of the conservative/liberal divide are full of individuals who are not helpful to the clash. The reason is that they are unable to step past their own positions and see the merit in the person on the other side. In other words, because I think your <em>position</em> is stupid/poorly reasoned/selfish/will lead to a bad end, I’m unable to put aside that I think <em>you</em> are stupid/a poor reasoner/selfish/a malefactor who would lead us to a bad end.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Let me give you an example. The biggest, or at least the noisiest debate in American society right now is the one over health care – or more accurately, over the way health care is funded and dispensed. Most of the liberals I know want a unified (‘single-payer’) system similar to that in many other countries, including (but not limited to) Canada and those of Western Europe.</div><div></div><div>Yes, I know that this is not the 'program' that is on the table right now in the legislation that is being considered. But President Obama and many of his supporters are on record as favoring such a solution, and many experts agree that the legislation being considered in its many forms will put us on the road toward that kind of a system.</div><div></div><div> </div><div>In other words, many liberals want a very (some might say radically) different system than what we in the US have today.</div><div></div><div> </div><div>Most of the conservatives want the current system but with certain government controls (such as those which make it difficult for insurance companies to compete across state lines) removed or lessened, and other controls (such as those which might prevent companies from dropping coverage, or which might limit malpractice lawsuits) increased. In other words, the system that we have now but with tweaks and adjustments to make it better.<br /></div><div>All this is no surprise; by definition it is in the nature of liberal thought to favor transformative change (and President Obama campaigned on that very principle), while it is in the nature of conservative thought to favor more modest change!</div><div></div><div> </div><div>But to listen to the public discourse, the conflict doesn’t sound as benign as that. To many liberals, the conservatives are 'heartless bigots' who want to 'deny health care to the poor and vulnerable.' To many conservatives, the liberals are 'socialists' who want to 'keep the liberal-controlled federal government in power by controlling the jobs and well-being of a majority of the country’s citizens.' To conservatives, they (the liberals) are the 'heartless ones' who want to ‘pull the plug on Grandma’ and assemble ‘death panels.’<br /></div><div>The reality is this: each side favors a very different approach to the difficult problem of providing the best level of affordable care to the most people. Most agree that health care costs are out of control and need to be reigned in while ensuring more Americans have the coverage for the care they need. But the rhetoric of the conflict is so powerful that, by and large, neither side can see the other as well-intentioned. Neither side can see the other as having the same goal. Neither side can see the merit in the other, because they can’t see the merit in the other’s <em>position</em>.<br /></div><div> </div><div>I'm using an example from politics to illustrate the problem when our conflict is not <em>for the sake of heaven. </em>But it applies to all spheres of relationship: from the most intimate, to the most global.</div><div></div><div> </div><div>I was discussing this recently with a correspondent of mine from Berlin, a woman who is deeply concerned with the problem of conflict in civil life and who wants to promote the ancient Jewish concept of mahloket leshem shamayim to help combatants and potential combatants solve their conflicts by peaceful means. I think she is on to something. I am therefore offering the following as a suggested formula for employing the concept in conflict:<br /></div><div>(1) Assume that the other has the same good intentions that you believe you have, and try to make them see that you have the same good intentions that they think they have. Yes, there truly are malefactors about but most individuals try, or at least see themselves as trying, to be benefactors. If you start the conversation by giving the other the benefit of the doubt, and working to make them see that they would be doing well to give <em>you</em> the benefit of the doubt, that would certainly make a good start. If in the course of the conversation you find that you gave the other the benefit of the doubt mistakenly, you can always adjust the conflict to that reality. But I guarantee it won’t happen often.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(2) Once you have made the leap of seeing merit in the opposition, you will be in a better position to see merit (or at least good intention) in their positions. Even if you can’t see the merit in their means to achieve the end result, you might see merit in their envisioned end result. And that means quite a bit. If two sides to a seemingly-intractable conflict see their positions as basically intending to reach a similar end, that automatically makes the conflict less intractable. It means that the negotiation necessary to reach a method of reaching the end will have much more of a chance of success.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(3) One must be extremely careful not to use ‘code words’ or ‘code phrases’ that cast aspersion on the other side’s intentions. These loaded words and phrases have the effect of closing down debate and discussion rather than opening it up. When the conflict in question is one in an intimate male-female relationship, one must understand that men and women communicate very differently. But that's a different subject for a different day!<br /></div><div> </div><div>(4) Even if agreement is ultimately elusive or impossible, this exercise is not a waste of time. It is far better to oppose someone on the basis of disagreeing with their solution, than because one thinks them of no or little merit. It changes the very character of the conflict.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>You’ll notice that I haven’t used the word ‘compromise.’ A compromise is a device to reconcile two positions to hopefully make both parties <em>somewhat</em> happy by giving each <em>part</em> of what they seek. If one achieves steps one to three above, a compromise might be the <em>vehicle</em> by which an ultimate solution is found that all can accept. But the act of compromise in and of itself will not tone down the hurtful rhetoric that unfortunately seems to poison so much of our discourse today.<br /></div><div> </div><div>So let’s disagree and thus have conflict. But let’s try to keep our conflict leshem hashamayim and thus, we will go a long way toward ensuring a good result.</div></div>Rabbi Don Levyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945620424026291398noreply@blogger.com