The Jewish Observer

Baseball and Judaism

March 11, 2014 by thejewishobserver

We’re talkin’ baseball!
Kluszewski, Campanella.
Talkin’ baseball!
The Man and Bobby Feller.
The Scooter, the Barber, and the Newc,
They knew ’em all from Boston to Dubuque.
Especially Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.

Terry Cashman

Yes, it is that time of year once again. Spring training is here and for those of us who practice the religion of baseball, our New Year is looming (Opening day, March 21). Spring training is a kind of an Elul for baseball. Elul is the month of personal introspection one does before Rosh Hashanah. We try to find ways to improve ourselves. Spring training is the same thing for baseball. Every team looks to improve itself before Opening Day. I have been struck by the many connections between baseball and Judaism. I thought I would share my top ten.

10) Yom Kippur is part of the folklore of both baseball and Judaism. Most famous case is Sandy Koufax. His decision not to pitch game 1 of the 1965 World Series is part of baseball lore and Jewish lore. His status is heightened in both worlds. Don Drysdale, who pitched in Koufax’s stead, gave up 7 runs in less than 3 innings and told Walter Alston when he came to take him out, “I bet you wish I was Jewish now too.” Koufax not the only one to face this dilemma. In 1934 Hank Greenberg, the star slugger for the Tigers, decided to play in a key game against the Yankees in thick of pennant race on Rosh Hashanah. Detroit headlines read, “Talmud Clears Greenberg for Holiday Play.” He did not play on Yom Kippur and when he entered the shul for services that day, the congregation gave him a standing ovation. Other Jewish players also refused to play on the HH – notably Al Rosen of the Cleveland Indians in the 1950’s and in 2001 Shawn Green sat out on the HH as well.

9) Judaism and baseball have stories about release from slavery. Jews from Egypt, ballplayers from the reserve clause. Moses led the Israelites out of slavery, and never made it to the Promised Land. Curt Flood, after a great 13 year career with the St. Louis Cardinals, was traded to the Phillies in 1969. He refused to abide by the trade and sued for the right to be a free agent. Baseball, up to that time, had the reserve clause. This was a clause inserted into all contracts that after the contract had expired, the team still owned the player’s rights. This meant the player was never free to negotiate with another team, but could only negotiate with the team that owned his rights, or ask to be traded. Flood asserted that he was not property to be bought and sold. The Supreme Court ruled against him but his suit forever changed baseball and by the mid 1970’s free agency was well established and greatly increased player’s salaries and freedom. Flood never saw the benefit. He sat out 1970, played a few games in 1971 and then retired. Like Moses, he led the way but never got to the Promised Land.

8) There are 613 commandments. Of them, 365 are negative commandments and 248 are positive commandments. If you begin with the start of spring training games, and if the World Series lasts until 7 games, you will reach 248 days of baseball thus showing that following baseball is a positive commandment.

7) For Jewish prayer you need 10 Jews for a minyan. The starting lineup for a baseball team would qualify as a minyan (assuming they are all Jews). OK, you say, there are only 9 men who start for a team in a ball game and 10 are needed for the minyan, so how can I say that 9 equals 10? Easy, a sefer Torah can be used for the 10^th person. So a ball team plus a Torah equals a minyan. Who would argue that a Torah plus 9 Jews is not a winning team?

6) The iconic figures in baseball and Judaism are heroic despite their flaws. Babe Ruth liked to drink and party with women. Ty Cobb was a dirty, nasty player. Mickey Mantle once told a young autograph seeker, “Take a hike, son, take a hike.” Reggie Jackson was an ego maniac, once referring to himself as “the straw that stirs the drink.” In Judaism, Moses had a speech impediment and constantly complained to God about what a burden the people were. In his final speech to the Israelites he blames them for not being allowed into the Promised Land. King David plotted to send a key general off to the battle front, where he was killed, thus allowing David to take the general’s wife for himself. And this is the father of the messianic line? Abraham tried to pass off his wife Sarah as his sister while living in Egypt because he was afraid the Egyptians might kill him. Solomon had a penchant for women and horses. The mythologies of both baseball and Judaism allow room for greatness as well as failings. In fact, for both, the failings make the greatness all that much more interesting.

5) Judaism and baseball are both dependent on details. Baseball has its statistics – ERA, BA, RBI, WHIP, – the list of statistics seems endless. Players are evaluated by how they perform statistically. Statistic are really just a measure of the details of the game. Judaism also demands attention to the details of life. Our lives are judged by the details of our deeds – and our saber metrics are the mitzvoth. This is true whether we are talking about ritual mitzvoth or ethical mitzvoth. One is elevated in baseball because of statistical details. Judaism gives us a means to elevate the details of life to a level of holiness.

4) Sacrifices are valued. In baseball, one often is called to sacrifice their at bat (and therefore some measure of personal statistics and personal gain). One has to control the ego when laying down a bunt instead of swinging for the fences. The result, hopefully, is for the good of the team. In Judaism, sacrifice also plays a role. Our Torah readings are now in the book of Leviticus, where we learn about the system of sacrifices. One is sacrificing a piece of their personal wealth (a cow, sheep or goat) for the good of the community – this system was based on the idea that sacrificial giving invited God’s presence into the community. While it is true that for the last 2000 years prayer replaces sacrifice in terms of daily and weekly observance, we are still, as Jews, called upon to sacrifice something of our individual gain for the benefit of the community. When we subjugate our ego needs and moderate our “personal entitlement,” the community benefits – the team wins.

3) Both inspire a deep respect for their history and ritual. One is not a true baseball fan if you are not familiar with its history. That is the source of great discussions. Is the pitching today as good as the 1960’s? Who was the greatest hitter of all time? You cannot appreciate the Red Sox winning the World Series in 2004 unless you know about the “curse of the Bambino.” And have you ever seen ball players before they hit or bat? If things are going well they try to repeat the same routine, the same rituals over and over. Similarly, one cannot appreciate the beauty and depth of Judaism without a sense of our history. Despite episodes of great oppression, great degradation, Jewish history soars to amazing achievements. Judaism never remains stagnant. It is a dynamic force whose story of survival and achievement is inspiring. And of course we are a religion filled with ritual. They frame our lives and remind us of who we are and how we are supposed to live.

2) Baseball and Judaism have clear delineations between fair and foul. Baseball, unlike other sports, has part of the action occurring in foul ground. However, not everything that happens in foul ground is necessarily bad. A runner can advance on a long fly in foul ground. By fouling off 2 strike pitches a batter stays alive. In Judaism we differentiate between yetzeir hatov (good inclination) and yetzeir harah (bad inclination). The yetzeir harah is our “foul ground,” but not everything about it is necessarily bad. The Talmud teaches that without it, no babies would be born or cities be built.

1) Both baseball and Judaism are humbling. In baseball, if you hit the ball 30 percent of the time you are considered a great success. Tell me another area of life that exalts a 30 percent success rate. Ted Williams said that the hardest single act to do in sports was to stand in against a pitcher throwing the ball at you at 95 mph and try and hit it. How many of us would have the courage to try that? Humility is built into baseball. There have been many great players but no one transcends the greatness of the game. There is always someone who is better. The sense of history gives one a perspective that any ball player is just one more in a long chain. Very few get to walk with the great ones and even they are ultimately humbled by the game itself. Jewish practice is meant to give us a sense of humility. When you bind yourself to halachah, to Jewish law, and decide to practice Jewish ritual, you are really acknowledging that there is something greater than yourself. The act of putting on tefillin is symbolic of binding yourself to a particular history and practice. Humility is the quality most praised in Moses. In Numbers chapter 12 he is described as the most humble of God’s servants. Judaism, like baseball, demands we step up and perform, but within a context that deemphasizes ego and promotes humility.

We are closing in on spring. This is the season of new births, new beginnings. Pesach is looming, soon we will be gathering for seder and create another season’s worth of memories. I think it is appropriate that the new baseball season gets underway at the same time Pesach arrives. My life is filled with great memories of Pesach, of seders with friends and family, of funny and memorable things that happen at seder. Seder reminds us of great moments experienced. The same is true of baseball. It provides a lifetime of memories, with friends, family; of great moments experienced. Our memories, wherever they come from, bring us comfort, they put our lives in perspective, they teach us – sometimes painful lessons, and they connect us to people and events far beyond ourselves. Smile when you think of them.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged baseball and Judaism, how is Judaism like baseball | 1 Comment »

Understanding Leviticus from the Steps of the Capital

March 6, 2014 by thejewishobserver

It was surreal; waiting with some pillars of the budding Moral Monday movement, inside the old Florida capital building. The old capital was the staging area, with the speeches presented from its steps facing the new capital building. The crowd gathered in the courtyard between the two capital buildings. Waiting with me were Rev. William Barber, the North Carolina pastor from the NAACP, who has been a key mover in establishing the Moral Monday movement. He was in town to teach, to inspire, to help cobble together a coalition clergy who would embrace a range of issues affecting the poor and minorities; not on a partisan basis, but on a moral basis. He would go on to give a thundering speech calling upon Floridians to dare to reach higher. Along side Rev. Barber was the Rev. Russell Meyer, head of the Florida council of churches. Rev. Meyer has been a prophetic voice on many moral issues in Florida. I had most recently met him while lobbying against an Arizona style immigration bill about 3 years ago. Rev. Barber and Rev. Meyer were only two of the many impressive prophetic voices to mount the steps that day.

Across from us was the current capital building. Inside, staffers and legislators were preparing to open session – which officially started on Tuesday. I have been part of that numerous times as well. I know the ritual. Prayer is given to invoke the presence of God. There is a roll call and a welcoming by House and Senate leadership in a symbolic joint session. Homage is paid to bi partisanship. Everyone extols the virtues of Florida, democracy, the sacred privilege of serving the people. By the next day the ritual will revert to business as usual; which means that the priests of state government will respond not to the people but professional lobbyists, work to consolidate their own power, vote on strict partisan lines, and entertain a host of bills that do little to further the prosperity of the state, often giving a platform to politicians hubristic preening – all preparing their path to a higher political office (a promotion in civil priesthood). The form, i.e. the ritual of government is maintained. The content seems empty.

That is how I have come to view our state politicians: as the priests of the political system. So here is the scene Monday. On the steps of one capital is an array of clergy. They are a prophetic voice, exhorting the moral necessity of proper education of our youth, the need for medical care extended to the poor, the preservation of voting rights for the disenfranchised, and the need to end the culture of violence that pervades our state. Across from them in the other capital, are the priests of state government, who are neither connected to, nor caring about the message being delivered and cheered outside their office windows.

It is here I gain insight into Leviticus. It sets the stage for the conflict between priest and prophet that will underscore the history of ancient Israel. Leviticus, you see, presents the system as it SHOULD be. It presents a system in its ideal. The goal of the system is very clear. In order to thrive, the Israelites believed everyone must participate in promoting the presence of God in the community. Jacob Milgrom, in his commentary on Leviticus, explains this theology. The Israelites believed there were only 2 acting agents in the world, God and humanity. There were no demons, no demi-gods. The wellbeing of the world depended on the interplay between God and humanity. Humanity had the ability to promote or expel God’s presence in a number of ways. There were impurities that could cause it to retreat, disease, uncontrolled blood flow, molds – a great number of things that are now easily explained and controlled. But to the Israelites these were mysteries that repelled God’s presence. After an appropriate treatment for the condition, a sacrifice was offered. The pleasing odor sent up to God was a smoke signal, if you will, that humans had rectified the condition and done the appropriate ritual act to punctuate the remedy.

The same process applied to moral and ethical situations. The chatat offering (misunderstood when translated as “sin” offering) was the ritual that signaled a moral transgression had been corrected. If a person transgressed and caused harm to another person or to the community, they did the proper correction and offered a sacrifice to signal that fact. Even if the transgression was not intentional, the Levitical system mandated that there was a responsibility to correct the wrong. Lack of culpability did not absolve from the responsibility of the remedy. Further, if someone experienced the blessing of good fortune, they offered a special sacrifice to signal their gratitude. All of this (and much more) created a complex system in which individuals participated in the maintenance of God’s presence in the community. Every Jew had a stake in this outcome.

The role of the priest was to facilitate the participation of the people. When a sacrificial remedy needed to be offered, the person brought the animal to the priest, who received it on their behalf through a ceremony in which hands were laid on the animal to transfer the authority over it for sacrifice. The individual might indeed do the slaughter (or the priest could as well), but Nachmanides teaches that only the priest could bring the blood necessary for the ritual from the animal into the altar area. Unlike the Catholic priesthood of the past 2 millennia, Israelite priests were not God’s representatives to the people, but the people’s agents in dealing with God.

But we know that the system went awry. The priesthood became too enamored with its own power, seeing the offerings as a collection of material for the maintenance of their power and not as part of their function as agents for the community in maintaining the presence of God. This is a central message of the Hebrew prophets of the 8^th and 7^th centuries BCE. This famous passage from Amos 5:22 – 24 typifies the message of the prophets:

“Though you offer me burnt offerings and meal offerings, I will not accept

them; nor will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts.

Take away from me the noise of your songs; for I will not listen to the

melody of your lutes.

But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

Repetitions of that message occur in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Hosea.

The core of prophetic criticisms includes the following. First, the ritual of sacrifice is NOT God’s central concern. Rather, God wants us to care for the well being of ALL people in the community. The Hebrew prophets emphasized enforcement of the moral laws of Leviticus (see Chapter 19 as a great example) over the ritual of the sacrificial system. As a corollary, the priesthood is indicted as a power hungry, corrupt institution not serving the needs of the community. This is emphasized by the Talmud in tractate Yoma by the criticisms leveled against the priesthood of the second Temple.

Thus we have the summary of a central battle in the history of the development of Judaism, indeed all religion. Of what use is ritual, and the institutions and offices that support ritual, if it is devoid of a tie to moral purpose? In other words, priest versus prophet. Of what use is the form of religious observance without moral content? Let me make this real and relevant to the now.

As we light our Shabbat candles, and celebrate services, there are layers of purpose, of meaning. Yes, the music is beautiful, and there is joy and meaning in praying and singing together. Yet, there is also a call to something deeper, something that should stir in the souls of all Jews. Let me make this real by sharing the issues from Moral Monday:

1) Medical coverage for the poor. Allowing emergency rooms be the ad hoc medical providers for the uninsured costs the system money. Far more efficient is to extend Medicaid to more people. Florida is rejecting this money. This not only makes no sense from a financial perspective, but more importantly from a moral perspective

2) Florida has had a rash of violent incidents arising from angry people with easy access to guns. Whether you believe the guns are to blame or the people are to blame, we must address this culture of violence. Current Stand Your Ground laws might be partly to blame.

3) Our educational system is failing too many students. This feeds the school to prison pipeline. It is a waste of human capital. Education is a key to raising people out of poverty.

4) If we are truly a democracy, then laws that encourage voting are a must. Attempts to limit voter participation through the red herring of voter fraud is just immoral.

Do you see the same connection to the conflict between priest and prophet in the Hebrew Bible that I do? We observe the rituals of government, but without a content that serves the people with the least. We invoke the name of God to bless these rituals. But do we really believe the presence of God is invited to our community when a representative declares, as I heard at a committee hearing last year, that he would be honored to be the person to execute a convicted criminal. Is expressing glee over the prospect of killing someone, even a criminal really promoting the presence of God?

Leviticus teaches that there is a way to marry ritual and morality, institution and community ethic in ways that create a place for the Divine. If we blissfully celebrate Shabbat without feeling a sense of the moral call of Jewish tradition, we are repeating the failings of our ancestors when they focused on the form of the sacrificial system instead of the motive behind it. The ideal expressed in the opening chapters of Leviticus, that ritual can be married to ethic and that the divine presence is in the hands of everyone in the community from priest (leader) to citizen, is achievable; but only if we demand it to be so.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged meaning of sacrifices, Moral Monday, Priest and prophet | 1 Comment »

The End Is Just a Beginning

February 27, 2014 by thejewishobserver

If nothing else, the Torah teaches that the moment we think something is complete, our work is really just beginning. That paradigm is present in the very beginning of Genesis, after the work of creation is described in chapter 1, chapter 2 begins with the words, vayachulu hashamayim v’ha’aretz. We usually translate this as, “the heavens and the earth were completed.” But, as Hebrew grammarians know, the verb form is in the future tense with a conversive letter vav in front that converts the word from future to past. So we could translate the phrase as “and the heavens and the earth WILL be completed.” The implication being that we will complete the work God began at some point in the future. More than an implication, much of Jewish tradition poses that as human responsibility.

One aspect of that completion occurs in this week’s Torah portion, Pikudei. Under Moses’ direction, the Israelites complete the work on the mishkan, the portable sanctuary that will rest in the center of their camp in which God’s presence settles. Indeed, the very end of the Torah portion, the closing in fact, to the whole Book of Exodus, is the settling of God’s presence into the completed mishkan. This is a powerful moment, one which punctuates what I see as the theme for the entire Book of Exodus – the process by which a distant, disconnected God, becomes the center for the community.

Yes, Exodus is the story of an enslaved people gaining freedom and then responsibility. But think of the relationship between the Israelites and God, and how it progresses throughout the book. The first two chapters are devoted to the plight of the Children of Israel in Egypt. It is only at the end of the 2^nd chapter that God even takes notice of them. A hero/leader (Moses) is selected by God, in a distant location. For most of Exodus, communication between Moses and God is on a mountain top, eventually within sight of the people, but decidedly separate from the community. The first attempt to place God in the center is misguided, even idolatrous. The episode of the Golden Calf is highlighted by violence, failed leadership, and the narcissism of the worship (the Hebrew word letzachek which describes the worship carries connotations of immoral sexual behavior). The creating of the Golden Calf is born out of fear. Everything about it is wrong and goes wrong.

The completion of the mishkan in this week’s Torah portion is the community’s remedy to the false start of the Golden Calf. The contributions are not violently taken, they are freely offered from the heart. Further, it is not just material contributions, but contributions of artistry and skill as well. Leaders for the project are put forth to the people for their endorsement. Ba’al Haturim comments that leaders cannot function without the consent of the community. It is well organized communal work, with a purpose – to construct a place that is fitting for the presence of God in the absolute center of the community. As the work is completed, Moses blesses them. At this point midrash detects connections to creation.

Moses’ blessing over the people is seen as a parallel to God’s blessing over the first humans per Genesis1:28. God blesses them and tells them to fill the earth – God’s creation. After Moses’ blessing God will fill the people’s creation – the mishkan, in a wonderful piece of circularity that teaches us something about the interconnection of the human and the divine. This moment gives the rabbinic sages a chance to ask another question about the first chapter in Genesis, that details the week of creation.

The description of the first day ends with vayahi erev, vayahi boker, yom echad, “there was evening, there was morning, day one.” The use of the Hebrew echad, one, is different from the words used for the other days of creation. The rest of the days end with a number adjective, such as “second,” “third,” etc. Why does Torah use the number “one” instead of saying “a first day?” One answer provided by midrash is that the word rishon or “first” is reserved for the first day of the new relationship between God and the children of Israel – the day in which their work is completed so that God can be present within the community. Now comes the complication.

Just as the beginning of Genesis tells us that the work of creation will be completed, so too does the work of maintaining God’s presence within the community need to be completed. Yes, the stage of the physical labor, of building the sanctuary is complete. However, the history of Israel, the history of Jews, is one in which we are constantly laboring, with moments of success and moments of failure, to keep God’s presence in our community. We can never stop the work of keeping God present in our center. It is hard work to prevent God from becoming distant, disconnected. The end of one kind of work only leads to the beginning of the next round of necessary work. And this kind of work is not about building projects, but infusing the divine qualities of morality and justice into our communities.

Which brings me to the needed work of the moment. The state of Florida, much like North Carolina, has taken a hard right turn that is to the detriment of underserved populations. The most outrageous is the limiting of voter rights by attempts to purge voter roles of supposedly illegitimate voters. The targets of these purges are overwhelmingly minorities, and pretty much every case has been dismissed. These voters are proven to be legitimate. Florida, like North Carolina is focusing on a statistically nonexistent issue (voter fraud) that feels very much like an attempt to limit minority voting. Florida, like North Carolina, is failing in its attempts to educate its students. The result is the tragic school to prison pipeline that is bolstered by the prison system (both private and state run prisons). In addition, Florida has a real problem with gun violence resulting from rage, as recent cases in Jacksonville and Tampa illustrate. Finally, Florida, like North Carolina, refuses to use available federal funds for Medicaid which would extend coverage to thousands of underserved Florida families.

The Moral Monday movement started in North Carolina. It brings together religious leaders to advocate for solutions to the above problems. On Monday, March 3, Moral Monday will come to Florida as we gather at the capital to express our concern on these issues. Not everyone there will agree on all of the solutions proposed. But we are united by our recognition that these problems are real, and must be addressed. We are once again trying to build a mishkan, a space for God’s presence to dwell. But instead of building a physical structure, we hope to create a communal structure of morality and justice that will foster the presence of divinity at the center of our community.

Please join me between 10 AM and 2 PM, Monday, March 3 at the Florida capital in Tallahassee, as we begin our work anew.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Moral Monday, Torah commentary | 1 Comment »

Each Child Is One and Cannot Be Counted

February 14, 2014 by thejewishobserver

The birth of a child (or in my case last Saturday a grandchild) is a sobering moment, an event that spurs reflection and even, perhaps, a bit of revelation. My granddaughter, Libby Mae, was born last Shabbat morning. I got word of her arrival just before Shabbat morning services. By mid morning Sunday we were in the hospital meeting her. First impression – she looks a lot like our older granddaughter Amelia did as a baby. Indeed, all three grandchildren share brown eyes, similar eyes, nose and mouth, and full heads of hair as newborns. Same parentage seems to get similar results. But as we spent the week with her, perhaps not really.

Already I can see significant differences in Libby, now only 6 days old, and her older siblings – even in personality. There is no doubt about her relationship to them, but there is also no doubt that she is going to be her own, very individual person. She will be nobody’s clone, unlike any other child. She will be one of a kind and cannot be counted.

What do I mean by that? Well, even though I am officially “off duty” from my congregation this week (on new grandparent duty), I know that this week’s Torah portion is Ki Tisa. It begins with the call for a census of the children of Israel. That process in Hebrew is described as tisa et rosh, a lifting of the head. Each person being counted is given a half shekel, which in turn is given as an offering to God at the central sanctuary. Then the half shekels are counted. It is my teacher from HUC, Dr. Michael Chernick, who taught us that this was a way of recognizing that individual souls are different and cannot be counted. Counting, i.e. numbering, can only be of objects, not of people. He went on to say that the reason the tattooing of numbers on Jews at the concentration camps was so utterly debasing, is that it reduced them to things, as opposed to recognizing each as an individual. Jewish tradition respects the individuality of each person. Each child, each person, is one of a kind and cannot be counted.

In this way, at least according to classical Jewish mysticism, we are b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. For God is described in texts by kabbalists such as Luria and Cordevero as “one that cannot be counted.” Now we add to this the description of the process of the census as “the lifting of the head.” The process of conducting the census should not just be a way to arrive at a number of people, but to do so in a way that elevates their individuality. The Jewish lesson is simple and clear: people are not commodities.

Which now brings me to a wider observation. Despite a lot of professions of concern for the individual, or for individual rights, by any part of the political spectrum, the resulting rhetoric is often a reduction of individuals to statistics – a demeaning of the individual. For example, candidate Mitt Romney’s infamous “47%” remark is a reflection of the wider oft stated conservative view (particularly on cable news and talk radio) that the country is divided into makers and takers. This ignores the individual circumstances that lead any individual to “take” advantage of government support. They include, those who actually are “takers,” hard working poor in jobs that do not pay enough to support their families, farmers taking government subsidies, rich corporations receiving special tax credits, single parents trying to get an education to lift themselves up while supporting a child, and many, many more individual stories. We can agree or disagree with any of these stories, but to categorize large groups by statistics, while useful for understanding the makeup of a population, cannot be a basis for making moral judgments on ANY of the individuals involved.

The left is culpable as well, by making judgments on those who make up the “one percent” as greedy, narcissistic power grabbers. While there are some who might be, each person has an individual story, many of them inspiring, some disturbing. My point is that by characterizing an individual by the statistical group they fall into we are failing to honor and respect individuals. Torah asserts, in the beginning of this week’s Torah portion as well as many other times (see parashot Kiddoshim and Shoftim as examples) that one should not show deference to either the rich or the poor. People, regardless of where they fall on the statistical economic scale, are worthy of respect for their individuality.

What makes Ki Tisa a particularly poignant Torah portion, from my perspective, is that it begins with a way to carefully respect individual souls while undergoing a statistical measurement. Following that is an example of what happens when individuals fail to think for themselves and take on a mob mentality – idolatry results (the worship of the Golden Calf) with disastrous results for the community.

There are many steps that need to be taken in order to create individuals who feel respected, but not entitled. Proper education, access to well compensated jobs, a reduction of the rhetoric of hatred spewed by cable TV and talk radio – to name just a few. But it all begins with how we view that new child. So I say, each child is one that cannot be counted.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged respect for individual, Torah commentary | Leave a Comment »

An Angel (malach) in More Ways Than One

January 24, 2014 by thejewishobserver

m An Angel (malach) in More Ways Than One

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, is mostly an elaboration of the law code Moses receives on Israel’s behalf. Then, after the litany of laws comes to an end, Torah gives us this passage, “Behold, I am sending an angel before you to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place which I have made ready. Take heed of him and listen to his voice. Do not rebel against him for he will not bear your transgressions as my name is within him.” The angel (malach) is to guide the people’s way to the Promised Land.

In my first year of Rabbinic School in Jerusalem, one of my classmates gave a d’var Torah on that passage. She proposed that the angel was, in fact, Moses, who while not a divine being, was the bearer of holiness on behalf of the people. It was Moses who was the link between the Divine and the children of Israel, being a combination of guardian, leader, guide and teacher. Indeed, this last role, that of teacher, is forever concretized by our referring to Moses as Moshe Rabbeinu – Moses our teacher. She supported her argument by the fact that no where in either the torah portion or the rest of the book of Exodus does an angel appear. She points to Nachmanides commentary that a divine being was not necessary while Moses was alive. Moses was the bearer of God’s power on God’s behalf, indicated by the pharase, “my name is within him.”

My classmate made another great point in her sermon. Each of us studying to be rabbis had the same potential as Moses to be a malach. As we guide people in times of need, teach the mitzvoth, or lead in the acts of prayer – each of us has the potential to be the link between the human and the divine. Each of us has the potential to lead those around us to a Promised Land – a place of deeper Jewish understanding, of spiritual and people connection. It was a beautiful d’var Torah and I particularly liked the way she saw the angel as a teacher of Torah, facilitating Jewish learning on all levels. I think, however, there is an application of the verse, of the concept of people as malachim that goes beyond being teachers within the Jewish world.

This fall I began mentoring a little boy in an elementary school. He is 6 years old – a first grader. He is from a family that is clearly not well off and has trouble providing the learning support he will need to achieve any degree of success in this world. He is struggling with math, not so unusual really. My job as his mentor is to help him learn some basic math concepts so that he will not become another angry adolescent in 6 or 7 years – frustrated with a system he could not learn and ready to rebel against the institution that seemed to cause his frustration. That would be such a shame, as he is a really sweet little kid, who is thrilled when he does well and gives the right answer. But the point of this is not either me as mentor or the boy as student.

I had not set foot in an elementary school classroom since my own daughters were grade schoolers – over 20 years ago. Even then, I was there for school conferences, a rather controlled environment. I had no sense of what it was like to be a teacher, trying to bring a room full of students to greater understanding of the subjects and skills that will shape their ability to succeed. I do now.

Over the last several weeks, I have gotten to know the little boy’s teacher (I will call her Ms. F) and to see the conditions in which she must teach. Keep in mind, this school is not considered a deprived or troubled school, but an example of the average school in our district – which by the way is considered one of the better ones in Florida. The room is an open classroom. Ms. F must teach 20 first graders in one corner of the open classroom, with 3 other classes going on in the other corners. If a child is not an exceptionally focused child, it seems impossible for them to concentrate on their work properly. I know that the 6 year old version of myself could not.

This week the teacher expressed her frustration in her inability to keep all 20 of her charges progressing at the rate needed for them to pass to second grade. She was distraught that the little boy I tutor was falling further behind. I assured her it was not her fault. Indeed, I am in awe that she is able to keep the vast majority of the students learning and progressing. I thought of the verse I quoted from this week’s Torah portion and realized that she is a malach trying to lead this room full of children to the Promised Land of education – the doorway to having any quality of life.

But what happened next blew me away. The children had just come in from the playground and were having their snacks – which are supposed to come from home. My student had no snack and said he was hungry. Ms. F took a box of wheat thins from a shelf, a box she brought from her own pantry, and gave the boy a snack. As I related this, in amazement to others during the course of this week, I learned that most teachers do this. In fact, most teachers pay for school supplies the district will not get for their classrooms as well as provide snacks for children who have none. These teachers are malachim in many more ways than one. Not only do they work to educate children against the odds of bad facilities, too many students in the classroom, uncooperative parents who blame the teacher for every mishap – but try to provide where all other supposed participants in the process fail to provide.

Now for the part that makes me angry. No profession is more disrespected than teachers. I am sure Ms. F makes no more than 37 K per year. How can we, as a society allow children’s education to wallow in such mediocrity? Why are we not honoring and paying teachers who give so much of themselves to the students? Just as the Torah tells us God’s name is placed within the angel leading the Israelites, I believe God’s name rests within each teacher as well. If we do right by them, we will take a great step towards not failing our children.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged angels, respecting teachers | 1 Comment »

Understanding the 70 Voices

January 16, 2014 by thejewishobserver

This is the week of divine revelation. Parashat Yitro describes the unveiling of God’s central charge to the children of Israel. Jews understand that the 10 commandments revealed in this week’s parashah are just a preamble to a much larger law code. But that preamble is important, even critical. It sets parameters for the relationship between the people and God. The magnificence of the scene, the display of lightening and thunder, commands the people’s attention. As this part of divine revelation concludes, we get a rather mysterious sentence, “v’chol ha’am ro’im et hakolot.” Which we could translate as, “And all of the people saw the voices.”

The natural reaction is to ask how the people could “see” voices? How does one see sound? Midrash Exodus Rabbah provides this insight into the verse: “Rabbi Jochanan said that God’s voice, as it was uttered, split up into 70 voices, in 70 languages, so that all nations should understand.” This midrash has been read and taught numerous times to demonstrate how the Torah is meant for everyone. It is not the exclusive property of the Jewish people. Other midrashim affirm this. For example, one teaches that the reason Torah was given in the wilderness and not in the land of Israel was that all would understand it as the property of everyone.

Too often we fail to read the next sentence of the midrash, “When each nation heard the Voice in their own language their souls departed, except for Israel who heard but were not hurt.” Rabbi Tanhuma then adds to this explaining, “The word of God went out in two aspects, slaying the heathen who would not accept it but giving life to Israel who accepted the Torah.” Are we to conclude from this midrash that only Israel was worthy of revelation? Clearly, this teaching conveys, that for at least that initial moment of revelation, only Israel accepted Torah as their life’s guide – the basis for life and community. But is that the end of the story? Is this hint at a universal message really just a way to highlight Israel’s exceptionalism?

I believe this slice of Torah gives us a chance to examine the unique Jewish perspective on the relationship of the individual to the community. It is all of Israel that witnesses and receives revelation. They are a corporate unit, not a collection of individuals. Just before revelation begins Torah tells us, “vayichan sham Yisra’el neged hahar,” “Israel camped there in front of the mountain.” (Exodus 19:2) The verb “camped” is in the third person singular – the implication being that Israel is one, unified entity. Although there were hundreds of thousands in the camp, for this formative moment, they were united as one. Thus is the prelude to the declaration of law.

The first four commandments establish a relationship between the people and God. The last five lay out the bare rudiments of interactions between individuals. The fifth commandment stands out as a transition, and too often we do not read the complete commandment; “Honor your father and mother, that you may long endure on the land which Adonai your God is giving you.” By only looking at the first clause, we see this commandment simply as an individual’s obligation to respect their parents. But there is so much more. Maimonides, in his Mishneh Torah, outlines what this commandment means. It is not just showing respect for those who bore and raised you, but the obligation to provide for them as they become aged and infirmed. You might not be able to do this yourself for a variety of reasons, so, according to Maimonides, you can place them in the care of others better equipped to meet their needs. Your obligation, in that case, is to be assiduous in assuring that the caregivers are giving the appropriate care. However, if we see this only as an individual obligation, we are misreading the text and intent of the law, the 10 commandments; indeed the entirety of Torah.

Remember, this revelation is for all of Israel as one unit, one community. The singular forms are not just directed to individuals within the camp, but to the entire nation of Israel. All must honor and care for the elderly in the community. And that brings us to the last part of the verse, “that you may long endure on the land that Adonai your God is giving you.” Our ability to properly provide for our elderly is a test of our society, our community. If we do so properly, our community will endure. If we do not, it is then a sign of a sickness infesting our corporate body. The current discussions concerning social security and Medicare now take on a different meaning, imply a different consequence.

I recently attended a program by The Village Square that discussed our country’s budget deficits as well as the run away costs of these two programs. The discussion was disturbing. There was a lot of offering critique but not of offering solutions; encapsulating the political system’s inability to address real problems. The fixes to social security are fairly obvious. It must be a combination of adjusting the benefits to current actuarial facts, raising the income limit that can be taxed, and means testing. Some combination of these will ensure that those of our elderly and disabled who need the program will get it. The economist on the panel blamed Medicare for much of the budget deficit, calling for “market based” solutions to health care issues. Yet, Medicare is the hero of the health care system when allowed to function properly. For example, Medicare puts many services and health care supplies out for competitive bidding, which ensures the lowest prices – a market based solution. However, it is not allowed to do so for drugs, as congress is lobbied by the giant pharmaceutical firms to prevent Medicare from subjecting drugs to competitive bidding. Medicare spends only 2% of the money it takes in on administrative costs, with 98% of its dollars going for patient care. Few private insurance companies even come close to that percentage. Clearly, if Medicare were allowed to operate at its greatest efficiency, its available dollars would be stretched much further – again helping to provide care to those who need it while saving costs.

This one example, taken from the commandment to care for our parents, illustrates the illness infecting our country. We see too many of our rights as individual without any communal obligation. We see the singular language of revelation as directed only to the individual and not to the communal whole. Which brings us back to the question of what Israel saw when they “saw the voices.” Naftali Tzvi Horowitz in his Zera Kodesh says that the people saw the very first letter of divine revelation, the alef from the opening words anochi Adonai Elohecha, “I am Adonai your God.” Why is this significant? If you look carefully at an alef, you will see the bare outline of a human face, two eyebrows and a nose in the middle. By only hinting at the shape of a face, the alef could be anyone’s and every person’s face. At that moment Israel saw the face of others, and that each face of each other was reflected in God. It was the beginning of understanding revelation not as for the self, but for the whole. When we recognize the humanity in others, and their Godly connection, we begin to consider each other, not just ourselves, in our actions and calculations.

And what about the 70 voices? What is it that made the other nations afraid and give up their souls despite hearing revelation? Perhaps they were not ready to lessen the natural human obsession with the self and personal gain. Perhaps they were not ready to accept a system which commands a real caring for others. Israel, being forged in the furnace of slavery, of oppression, understood the consequences of the lesson. They were ready to give their souls life by bonding as a community to the moral code God was sharing. Perhaps this midrash is just a way of teaching that if we are not willing to stop focusing on the self, if we live only by the mantra of personal gain, we do indeed lose our souls.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged caring for the elderly, social security and medicare, The 10 commandments | 4 Comments »

Navigating the Relationship Between Jews and Christmas

December 26, 2013 by thejewishobserver

The angst was palpable. A question on the CCAR Facebook page asked if we rabbis were disturbed by the posting of pictures showing members of our congregations with Christmas trees or Santa Clause. I was guilty of the knee jerk reaction “yes, it bothers me.” Over the next few days there were dozens of responses exploring various aspects of the reality of Jews celebrating Christmas, a look at the hows and whys. Theories abounded about what we could/should do, and about what it all means. The only clear conclusion is how much we do not know about the motives of Jews appearing in Christmas related photos and whether it is a marker of their true Jewish commitment.

In truth, I am not sure why I had that immediate negative knee jerk reaction. It might be related to Christmas as the yearly focal point of Christian hubris in America. I, like many Jews, am tired of the annual complaints by some Christians about the “War on Christmas.” I am tired of the assumption by most Americans that everyone celebrates Christmas. I am tired of the tokenism shown in public schools by the inclusion of one lame Chanukah song along with all of the beautiful Christmas music. Which leads to another reason I might resent Christmas. As a music lover, I have to admit that Christmas music is generally lovely, while most of the music created for Chanukah is, to put it bluntly, awful. Perhaps most of all, I am tired of explaining that Chanukah is a minor holiday that represents no core theological value of Judaism. Teaching about Chanukah teaches very little about the beauty of Jewish thought, texts, spiritual practice or the power of the Biblically mandated chagim. The proximity to Christmas elevates the importance of Chanukah and I do resent that.

But, if I am honest with myself, I have had a perfectly pleasurable personal relationship with Christmas my entire life. As a little boy spending much of my childhood in Fairmont, W. VA, I learned every Christmas carol and enjoyed singing them. I was cast as Joseph in my Kindergarten Christmas play because I was the only student who could sing a Hebrew song to Mary on the way to Bethlehem. My parents were close friends with a Baptist minister. We would go trim their tree every year. I sat on Santa’s lap in the local department store. I went caroling with my Christian friends. As an adult I dressed up as Santa Clause for my wife’s pre-school. Indeed, I remember having a rather clever answer when one 4 year old asked why they could not hear my reindeer on the roof of the school. I said it was because they were all wearing socks. During the years my children were in grade school I went to our neighbor’s Christmas party and caroled with them. Everyone got a kick out of the fact I knew the words to all the songs better than any of the Christians.

My parents, however, provided a very committed Jewish home. My dad was a survivor and there was little doubt about our involvement in synagogue or any doubt at all about our Jewish identity. Christmas did not enter our home. Celebrating Christmas was what we did to share a fun time with non Jewish friends at their homes. It had zero religious meaning for us.

A few years ago, my daughter Carrie, who is married to a non-Jew, demonstrated an updated version of this. She hosted a Christmas gathering for her husband’s family. His family is not religious. Christmas for them is all about getting together as a family. The reason my daughter hosted was hat her husband’s parents live in Cape Cod and his brother’s family live in West Virginia. Living in Philadelphia at the time, Carrie realized her house was the mid point. She made a point of telling me, “Don’t worry Dad, we are not having a Christmas tree or anything. I kind of think this is doing a mitzvah so no one is burdened by too much driving.” I had to agree with her. Her husband is completely supportive of raising a Jewish family. He has taken an Intro to Judaism class with Carrie, been to Israel with her and only celebrates the Jewish holidays. His brother’s wife had just had a new baby and their hosting Christmas was out of consideration for the rest of his family.

All of this brings me to two observations. First, for much of our country, Christmas is part of the emerging American civil religion. Similar to Thanksgiving, Christmas is more about family and promoting general good will. For years I have argued with congregants over the various Christmas symbols. I do not agree that they are just pagan icons adapted into Christianity. Symbols such as the tree, lights, wreaths, luminaries, Santa, and even the giving of gifts all have deep Christian symbolism. For years I have urged people to reject these Christmas trappings as they DO reflect a religious perspective. No one cares. To the consternation of Christian clergy, all of these symbols are losing or have lost their Christian meanings. They are just part of the general civil celebration of a happy winter solstice holiday. Indeed, if there is any religion being celebrated by all Christmas participants, it is the religion of capitalism. All of this is not what I am used to, but it is the reality.

The second lesson is probably more important. As Jewish ethnicity melts away in America, Jews become more comfortable with all things Christmas. The increase of interfaith families means that children being raised Jewish participate in family Christmas celebrations. The boundaries keeping Jews and Christians separate are fast disappearing. But, here is the important part, none of this prevents someone from being a committed Jew – if that is what they wish to do. I have many congregants who, for a variety of reasons participate in Christmas celebrations. I also see how most of these are deeply committed to our Jewish community, supporting it on many levels. I have seen their children become far more Jewishly literate than the parents – while the parents (many of them not even Jewish) take pride in their children’s Jewish accomplishments and commitments. These families are able to compartmentalize very differently than I do.

The problem is not that Christmas is ruining the Jewish commitment of Jews. The problem is that Jewish institutions are not providing enough meaningful Jewish content to help Jews keep Christmas in its proper perspective. Just because the world is shifting in the way boundaries are drawn does not mean Jews are turning away from Judaism. It just means they see the relationship of their Judaism to American culture differently than me. Those of us in positions to teach and lead have to articulate and demonstrate the beauty and power of Judaism. Then we have to let go of our angst and trust that our people, if properly inspired, will find their way.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Jews and Christmas, Jews celebrating Christmas | 1 Comment »

Who Is Worthy of Our Pride?

December 19, 2013 by thejewishobserver

Those who know me know I am an inveterate sports fan. Specifically I am a great football fan, being very loyal to the Philadelphia Eagles as well as my alma mater, the Pitt Panthers. It was with chagrin but real admiration that I watched Jameis Winston take Pitt apart in the first game of this season. It was clear that he is a player of great talent, truly a first rate quarterback. As is often said in sports, Winston is the “real deal.”

But, this fall has been a football season in which I am rethinking my devotion to football. On the pro level, there have been revelations about the long term effects of football on pro players. With sadness I learned how former Pitt player and Dallas Cowboy Tony Dorsett is suffering permanent brain damage marked by memory loss, from the years of taking a constant pounding in the NFL. The league is not adequately addressing either this or the frequency of players suffering concussions. I am left wondering if football is really just as bad as boxing – nothing but gratuitous violence.

As to high school football, I have been reading some articles showing that high school education would benefit if varsity sports, especially football, were removed from school culture. We are one of the few countries that connect competitive sports to our public education system. All of the benefits of competitive sports could be had through participation in club sports. The presence of varsity sports in high schools is appearing to be detrimental to creating a positive learning environment in high schools. School districts that have eliminated varsity sports, particularly football (admittedly a small sample) have seen an increase in their students academic scores.

The grossest expressions of football culture, however, occur on the college level. There are multiple problems: the inferior education given black players compared to white players, the veracity of the athletes truly being students, grade fixing…the list seems endless. But perhaps the worst part of football in colleges is idol worship of the players, i.e. the elevation of players to hero status and subsequently forgiving the awful behavior of players needed to keep the team winning. I saw this with Dorsett at Pitt in the 1970’s. We are seeing it again with Jameis Winston at FSU right now. This has become most apparent now that Winston has won the Heisman Trophy – college football’s highest award – last Saturday. Look at the Facebook postings regarding Winston. Countless posted how proud they were of Winston. All of this was accompanied by the requisite “Go Noles!” along with the wish he leads the team to a national championship. He is garnering accolades as a leader. His success on the field, coupled with the award and all of the accolades declaring how proud people are of him, make Winston an example to young men all over the country. He is now showered with fame and praise.

I have to ask if this is appropriate. Why? Well consider Winston’s escape from prosecution for a sexual abuse charge. The whole affair is sordid no matter what the outcome. The worst case scenario is this: Winston escaped prosecution because State Attorney Willie Megg’s office could not or would not piece together enough of a case to charge him. Once Meggs announced there would be no case brought against Winston. His exoneration caused a palpable sigh of relief in the football world. That freed Heisman voters to cast their ballots for him (although there were 113 voters who did not even list him, which means they had moral difficulties with even considering him). This leads us to the best case scenario surrounding Winston’s sexual episode. He and the young woman had consensual sex, both of them as part of serial sexual behavior with multiple partners. Winston’s roommates watched them have sex through the open door to his bedroom because that is “what football players do.” This is whom we wish to laud?

Do not get me wrong. I am not a prude nor do I blame Winston. He is merely the product of a culture that empowers those participating in football to play by different rules because of their contribution to the team’s success. Absent such an obvious crime that conviction is inescapable, there are few moral consequences for football players. All college players have to do is see the list of NFL players who get passes for behavior which would result in real punishment for the rest of us. Few people really cared if the woman in the incident was truly abused. Some even saw this as a plot to sabotage Winston’s Heisman hopes and FSU’s quest for a national title. In addition, there were those who immediately vilified the young woman.

Most of all, I just cannot be proud of someone whose most noteworthy trait is the ability to throw and run with a football – no matter what kind of a fan I am. I cannot be proud of someone who operates under this moral cloud. Football would just be a trivial game if not for the dollars it generates. The elevation of its players to hero status is a form of idolatry of the worse kind when it happens in the absence of admirable moral behavior.

All of this brings me to another point – who do I really admire? Who is worthy of our pride? Who should we look to for providing leadership?

Well, the same day Winston won the Heisman Trophy, a little 8 year old boy died after a long fight with leukemia – Sam Sommer – known to many as “Superman Sam.” His parents are two rabbis, Phyllis and Michael Sommer. I do not know them, but all you have to do is read Phyllis’s blog about their journey with Sam to share their grief, to have empathy with them as parents and to admire Sam’s courage as he faced death as well as their courage as they wrestled with their loss and shared this pain with the world. You can read Phyllis’s entry the day of Sam’s death here: http://supermansamuel.blogspot.com/2013/12/what-im-missing.html

Needless to say I am proud of my colleagues Phyllis and Michael Sommer even though I have never met them. Needless to say I am proud of Sam for demonstrating the beautiful lessons a child can teach us in the face of the harshest of tragedies. And I am also quite proud of 36 of my rabbinic colleagues, many of whom I do know, for taking part in a special event at the upcoming rabbinic convention in March. They will shave their heads as part of a fundraiser for battling childhood cancer. See the details at this link: http://www.stbaldricks.org/events/mypage/10921/2014

Who is it that makes me proud? Yes, it is a little boy who taught us with his courage as he lost his struggle with death. Yes, it is his parents whose words will help other parents cope with their grief. Yes, it is 36 rabbis who demonstrate real leadership by rallying around the Sommer family to tangibly contribute to a cure for children’s cancer. I hope you will join me in supporting their cause.

As to Jameis Winston, the Heisman Trophy, and football in general, none of it has ever seemed more trivial than now.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Jameis Winston, Superman Sam, Who are real heroes? | Leave a Comment »

Joseph and Bibi’s Booboo

December 12, 2013 by thejewishobserver

As the book of Genesis winds down, Jacob dies. Joseph and all of his brothers take Jacob back to Canaan to bury him in the family’s burial plots Abraham had purchased 2 generations earlier at Machpelah. The burial of Jacob rekindles a fear in Joseph’s brothers. Now that their father is gone, will Joseph finally take vengeance for their selling him into slavery so many years earlier? That fear compels them to approach Joseph, telling him their father urged them to be sure to ask Joseph’s forgiveness for their offenses after Jacob had died.

Why were they so fearful of revenge after living in Egypt for many years under Joseph’s protection? Malbim raises two interesting possibilities. First, while Jacob was alive the presence of their father encouraged mutual brotherly affection and served as a physical reminder of their connection to each other. Jacob’s death removed that tie. Second, Malbim states that the most poignant kind of revenge on someone is to mercifully provide their needs. Then, every crust of bread, every little thing provided serves to remind the perpetrator of the wrong they did. The constant multiplying and carrying around of that guilt creates the internal tension of waiting for the former victim to exact his revenge. So it was with Joseph’s brothers.

Ba’al Haturim, however, gives a simpler reason for the brother’s sudden fear of revenge. On the way back from the burial of Jacob, the procession finds itself at the pit into which Joseph’s brother’s cast him before selling him into slavery in Egypt. There the brothers hear Joseph recite this blessing, “Blessed is the One who performed a miracle for me in this place.” The brothers, seemingly incapable of understanding that Joseph could eschew revenge, take his blessing to mean that the matter still weighed on his mind. So they are shocked when he responds to their plea for forgiveness with the words, “hatachat Elohim ani?” “Am I in place of God?”

Joseph explains to them that God intended their actions for a better, larger purpose. He was placed in a position to save not only his family, but many people. Malbim explains that Joseph’s response is not just a simple accepting of fatalism, but an understanding that he dare not exact a revenge under the guise that he is doing God’s will – i.e. that the result will turn out for good not evil as his brothers’ actions did. Joseph does not presume to understand what God will do in the future. He is content to know that his current situation is the way God intended and all turned out well. He has enough strength of faith to not try to be the controlling agent, to accept what has already passed. Joseph is truly interested in healing, not in revenge. Rashi adds a more practical reason for Joseph’s refusal to take revenge on his brothers. They were living proof to the Egyptian people that he was indeed born a free man and not born a slave. This was important in maintaining his stature as vizier of Egypt.

Malbim and Rashi’s explanations are not mutually exclusive. Instead, they give us a holistic picture of a leader who blends high minded attitude along with practical considerations for his positions and actions.

Events of this past week show us examples of two men who stand as polar opposites. One exemplifies Joseph’s combination of the ethical blended with the practical, while the other exemplifies wallowing in pettiness and meanness. I am referring to the late Nelson Mandela and Bibi Netanyahu. They are now tied together by Netanyahu’s canceling his attendance at Mandela’s funeral using the expenses of the trip for his excuse.

Mandela’s history has been well reviewed by many sources over the past week. The overarching story of his life is of a man unjustly imprisoned for 27 years, who refuses to take vengeance upon his release. Just as Joseph recites a blessing upon visiting the pit of his prison, Mandela invites his former jailers to attend his inauguration as President of South Africa in 1994. He turns the curese of his imprisonment into blessing. Mandela’s approach to politics epitomizes the combination of high minded ideals with pragmatism. He knew that the prosperity of his country took precedence over the emotionalism coming from the end of apartheid. He did many things to show white South Africa he intended to work for everyone’s best interest. One example of this is depicted in the movie “Invictus” which tells the story of his garnering support for South Africa’s rugby team – a team that symbolized former white oppression of blacks.

It was the Israeli newspaper Ha’Aretz that broke the story of Netanyahu’s cancellation of his attending the funeral. It was very interesting to note comments on the article posted on the CCAR Facebook page as this was discussed. Most telling were those who argued that Netanyahu was justified in not attending the funeral as Mandela had ties with Arafat, was critical of Israeli policy regarding the West Bank and the building of settlements there. Indeed, a 2001 letter penned to American columnist Thomas Friedman bearing Mandela’s name issues criticism of Israel in the harshest of terms, calling the separation of Israelis and Palestinians “apartheid.” The language is confrontational, saying that if Friedman is not truly supportive of justice for the Palestinians, including the right of return, that he would “oppose” him. This letter makes anyone who supports Israel cringe. This letter is often used to characterize Mandela’s relationship with Israel, especially considering Israel was one of the last countries to maintain diplomatic and economic ties with apartheid South Africa.

However, there is one problem with this letter. It is a total fake. It was written by a Palestinian who claimed to be able to speak for Mandela.

What was Mandela’s relationship with Israel and moreover with Jews? Remember that Jews were economically very successful and very supportive of the white regime in South Africa. I know this from personal anecdote. All of my mother’s family is from Germany. Her father, my grandfather, had 4 brothers. He was the only one to come to America in the 1930’s. The rest went to South Africa, becoming quite successful. When I was 11 years old, some of them were visiting our family in America. This was at a time when the US had experienced a number of summers filled with race riots in major cities. I remember very clearly these relatives sitting in our living room telling my parents that Americans did not know how to handle their “coloreds.” Even at 11 I knew something was wrong about that statement, mostly because our rabbi had been relating to us his experiences marching with Dr. King in various freedom marches. My point of all this is that would have been understandable if Mandela harbored resentment against Jews and Israel.

Yet he did not. Indeed, he formed very good relations with the Jewish community in South Africa, appreciating their history of suffering in Europe as well as their economic contributions to the country. He supported Israel’s right to exist even stating that the Arab countries could not expect Israel to make concessions without recognition and guarantees of security. He met with former Soviet Jewish refuseniks, swapping prison stories with them. While he certainly had criticisms of Israeli policies, he understood and sympathized with the history of the Jewish people. This is attested to by Abraham Foxman of the ADL among other Jewish leaders.

And Netanyahu? He has a history of obstruction, of torpedoing peace deals even boasting of his ability to kill the original Oslo accords the beginning of his first term as Prime Minister (for complete description of Netanyahu as obstructionist see Michael Hirsh’s article of November 27 in “The National Journal”). Netanyahu is a leader with little vision and who demonstrates little ability to do anything other than fight to preserve Israel’s status quo. Unlike Yitzchak Rabin or Ariel Sharon, former military leaders and hawks who evolved to a place of being willing to take risks for peace, Netanyahu has proven to be at best a petty care taker, who uses his background of being raised in America and fluency in English to maintain popularity here. Even though Israel ended up sending Knesset speaker Yuli Edelstein and a group of Knesset members as a delegation, this episode only serves to contrast Netanyahu’s small mindedness with Mandela’s expansive thinking.

Whether in America, Israel or anyplace in this world, we need leaders who demonstrate Mandela’s combination of high minded ideals with practicality – which results in the ability to compromise and build consensus. We do not need the pettiness and rigidity that marks so many politicians attempts to do nothing but cling to their positions. I think we need for all of us to adopt Joseph’s attitude when he responds, “Am I in place of God?’ Perhaps then we can begin to replace hubris with humility.

Posted in Uncategorized | Tagged Joseph and forgiveness, Netanyahu and Mandela | Leave a Comment »

Joseph, Judah, and Nelson

December 6, 2013 by thejewishobserver

It is a moment of truth, literally and figuratively. After years of separation, Joseph is confronted by the presence of his brothers; who are in Egypt begging for food to relieve their starving family back in Canaan. Joseph, having ascended to the pinnacle of power in Egypt, is unrecognizable to his brothers. He, of course, recognizes them instantly. And he has played them like a cat plays with a helpless mouse. He has doled out food to them. He has inquired about their family. He sets a trap in which he has taken Benjamin, the youngest brother into custody for the false crime of stealing a cup. He is threatening to permanently hold him prisoner, which would cause a heartbreak for their father, Jacob. Only Joseph knows the truth of the situation. He is using that truth to play with his brothers, to see their reactions. It has been left to Judah to plead for Benjamin.

That is where this week’s Torah portion begins. It is a moment pregnant with possibilities. “Vayigash eilav Yehudah, vayomer, ‘Bi adoni yedabeir na avdecha davar b’oznei.’” “And Judah drew near to him (Joseph) saying, ‘my lord, please, let your sevant speak a word in your ear.’” Judah is indeed brave to draw near to Joseph. Joseph holds power. He holds their fate in his hands. And as I said, he is the only one who holds the truth. What indeed is Judah thinking? Midrash Rabbah gives three perspectives, all based on meanings of the Hebrew word vayigash. Rabbi Judah says he was drawing near to do battle. Rabbi Nechemya says he was drawing near for reconciliation. Some anonymous sages say he was drawing near for prayer. Certainly the moment contains the potential for each of these, although a battle would be useless as well as hopeless. As for reconciliation and prayer, they cannot happen in the absence of something else – a relationship.

That is what I think Judah is attempting as he draws near to Joseph – to establish a basis for relationship. He does so with no facts in hand other than his youngest brother is in danger and the possible result would devastate their father. He holds no power – only the faith that by taking this risk he will break down a barrier between Joseph and himself. I base this on some insights by the Sefas Emes, who examines the Hebrew words bi adoni. Instead of translating these as “my lord,” he translates them as “God is within me.” Indeed, if one looks at Judah’s name, yod, hey, vav, daled, hey, you can see that the name for God, yod, hey, vav, hey is contained within the letters of Judah’s name. The presence of God lives within Judah, and Judah is opening his heart to reveal that divine presence. This is accompanied and affirmed by his willingness to substitute himself as a prisoner for Benjamin. His acknowledgement that he is already a servant to God gives him the strength to submit to physical servitude to Joseph. He is taking a tremendous leap of faith.

On some levels this sounds so un-Jewish. We tend to pride ourselves on the quest for truth, for facts. We Jews are the rationalists in the religious world. We stress deeds over faith. We believe in action before worrying about feeling. I would argue that Judah’s action is a paradigm for what Jews often forget – a dose of faith can provide the strength for bold action. At his most vulnerable moment, Judah becomes incredibly strong. By revealing the God within, he forces Joseph’s hand. Indeed, Torah tells us that Joseph “could no longer hold back.” He breaks down sobbing and orders all Egyptians to leave the room and then reveals himself to his brothers. Judah’s leap of faith sparks Joseph’s revelation of truth. The movement to create relationship facilitates something quite beautiful.

Now we are mourning the passing of perhaps the last of the great political leaders of the 20th century – Nelson Mandela. Mandela and Judah have much in common. Both are very flawed human beings, both having made numerous personal mistakes through their lives. Both grow from their difficulties, each becoming a person who is able to reach unexpected heights. Mandela, like Judah, faced overwhelming power. Sentenced to life imprisonment on charges to overthrow a South African government that supported apartheid in 1964, Mandela never gave up his political principles to purchase freedom from prison. Rather than shrink, becoming less of a person by his mistakes and his years in prison, he exceeds personal limitations.

His faith grows. Like Judah he draws near to his opposition, forming a relationship with someone many would have thought impossible. For after his release from prison in 1991, Mandela entered into a prolonged period of negotiation with South African president Willem De Klerk. General elections open to all South Africans, regardless of color finally occurred in 1994, resulting in Mandela being elected President. De Klerk served as his first deputy.

Like Judah, Mandela revealed the power of the Divine that lay within him. He worked during his term as President to effect reconciliation between blacks and whites in South Africa. This man who was held in prison for 26 years for daring to oppose apartheid did not allow himself to show malice. Consider these words from his book, “Long Walk to Freedom.” “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” The man who entered prison in 1964 could not have written these words. But the man who emerged in 1991 had come to a different, deeper understanding of the world and lived what he wrote.

Finally, what made Nelson Mandela a great leader was not just his struggle for basic freedoms, but his willingness to take a great leap of faith; to believe that the divine spark, a bit of God, was alive in others, even in his enemies. He believed that by embracing the presence of God in himself, it would release that presence in others.

The name Joseph (Yoseif) means “something additional.” Perhaps that something additional is the God potential in each of us. Sometimes we need to be able to approach the one who seems like the enemy in order to find that God potential. Judah’s faith enabled him to find a spark of the divine in Joseph. He had the courage to act on that faith. His combination of faith and courage allowed the divine presence to be revealed in Joseph. Divine light cannot be revealed by staying hidden in the dark. One has to be willing to step into the light to effect change. This is exactly how Nelson Mandela believed life was as attested to in his inaugural speech of 1994:

“Perhaps it is not our darkness, but our light that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about your shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us, it’s in everyone! And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.”

Zichrono livracha. May we take inspiration from the life and memory of this great man. Amen

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The Jewish Observer

Rabbi Jack Romberg