Friends;
If you'd like a great, brief, historical review of modern Israeli history, click on this link. And, LEARN!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGYxLWUKwWo&feature=player_detailpage
Message from the Rabbi
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Prayer for Jerusalem
How many times does the name "Jerusalem" appear in the Tanach (Bible) ?
While sources differ as to the exact count, the correct answer is at least 600 times. If we include references to Jerusalem and Zion (which frequently means Jerusalem), and add the references to same found in the siddur, we can find well over a thousand references to Jerusalem in our most sacred literature. We can safely conclude that Jerusalem occupies a central, indispensable position in our thinking, as Jews. Indeed, anyone who denies that Jerusalem is inextricably woven into the fabric of the Jewish people, ignores both history and literature.
Most secular historians agree that King David established Jerusalem as the capital of the Jewish people around the year 1000 BCE. Religious-minded historians maintain that Jerusalem was established as the holiest spot on earth in Abraham's time. Mount Moriah, the place of Abraham's binding of his son, Isaac, is accepted, by unbroken tradition, as the mountain upon which the Temple was built, 850 years later, by King Solomon. Religious history, therefore, claims Jerusalem as the center of the Jewish world for more than 3,800 years.
Those who treasured Jerusalem throughout the ages wrote about her.
Among my personal favorite statements is this one, from Psalm 137:
"If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither;
let my tongue stick to my palate, if I cease to think of you;
if I do not keep Jerusalem in mind even at my happiest hour" (JPS translation).
The Jewish people lived by this ideal maxim. Throughout their centuries in exile- right down to this very day, Jews made daily reference, over and over again, to the importance of Jerusalem in our minds and hearts. If, by opposing regimes, we were barred from living there, we had to satisfy ourselves with the hope that, when we returned to the land, we would regain Jerusalem and its holy sites. No Jew can claim to be loyal to the Jewish people and its ideals if he conveniently ignores this fact, and downplays the importance of Jerusalem.
Winston Churchill maintained that Jerusalem was, historically, a Jewish city.
“You ought to let the Jews have Jerusalem; it was they who made it famous.” — Winston Churchill to diplomat Evelyn Shuckburgh, 1955, Descent to Suez; Diaries 1951-1956 (London: 1986).
Today, some political leaders assert that the only way to peace in the Middle East is if the Jewish people divide Jerusalem, and allow Palestinian Arabs to claim it as the capital of their hoped-for state. Such advice is preposterous and dangerous. Even a cursory glance at history reveals, that, until 1993, following the signing of the Oslo Accords, no Arab ever lodged such a claim. Now, pundits advise, the Jews should "internationalize" the city, and divide it, so that Palestinian Arabs may stake their "rightful" claim to it.
That so much is wrong with that advice should be clear, just from the few words I have written here. Perhaps later, I will take the time to detail the errors. For now, I want to remind our community, that, for more than a year, during Shabbat and holiday services, we have been reciting a prayer which invokes the beloved and sacred status of Jerusalem, and expresses our hope that the Israeli government will ensure that, with God's help, Jerusalem will not be divided, and will remain the eternal capital of the Jewish people.
While sources differ as to the exact count, the correct answer is at least 600 times. If we include references to Jerusalem and Zion (which frequently means Jerusalem), and add the references to same found in the siddur, we can find well over a thousand references to Jerusalem in our most sacred literature. We can safely conclude that Jerusalem occupies a central, indispensable position in our thinking, as Jews. Indeed, anyone who denies that Jerusalem is inextricably woven into the fabric of the Jewish people, ignores both history and literature.
Most secular historians agree that King David established Jerusalem as the capital of the Jewish people around the year 1000 BCE. Religious-minded historians maintain that Jerusalem was established as the holiest spot on earth in Abraham's time. Mount Moriah, the place of Abraham's binding of his son, Isaac, is accepted, by unbroken tradition, as the mountain upon which the Temple was built, 850 years later, by King Solomon. Religious history, therefore, claims Jerusalem as the center of the Jewish world for more than 3,800 years.
Those who treasured Jerusalem throughout the ages wrote about her.
Among my personal favorite statements is this one, from Psalm 137:
"If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand wither;
let my tongue stick to my palate, if I cease to think of you;
if I do not keep Jerusalem in mind even at my happiest hour" (JPS translation).
The Jewish people lived by this ideal maxim. Throughout their centuries in exile- right down to this very day, Jews made daily reference, over and over again, to the importance of Jerusalem in our minds and hearts. If, by opposing regimes, we were barred from living there, we had to satisfy ourselves with the hope that, when we returned to the land, we would regain Jerusalem and its holy sites. No Jew can claim to be loyal to the Jewish people and its ideals if he conveniently ignores this fact, and downplays the importance of Jerusalem.
Winston Churchill maintained that Jerusalem was, historically, a Jewish city.
“You ought to let the Jews have Jerusalem; it was they who made it famous.” — Winston Churchill to diplomat Evelyn Shuckburgh, 1955, Descent to Suez; Diaries 1951-1956 (London: 1986).
Today, some political leaders assert that the only way to peace in the Middle East is if the Jewish people divide Jerusalem, and allow Palestinian Arabs to claim it as the capital of their hoped-for state. Such advice is preposterous and dangerous. Even a cursory glance at history reveals, that, until 1993, following the signing of the Oslo Accords, no Arab ever lodged such a claim. Now, pundits advise, the Jews should "internationalize" the city, and divide it, so that Palestinian Arabs may stake their "rightful" claim to it.
That so much is wrong with that advice should be clear, just from the few words I have written here. Perhaps later, I will take the time to detail the errors. For now, I want to remind our community, that, for more than a year, during Shabbat and holiday services, we have been reciting a prayer which invokes the beloved and sacred status of Jerusalem, and expresses our hope that the Israeli government will ensure that, with God's help, Jerusalem will not be divided, and will remain the eternal capital of the Jewish people.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Our Singing Congregation
Last week, as we do almost every week, we ate lunch on Shabbat, and stayed for a while to do a Shabbat- related activity. While most weeks we discuss something interesting or unusual about the weekly Torah reading, last week we sang Shabbat Zemirot.
The atmosphere was already conducive to singing. Our choir, under the able baton of Ben Isecke, added to our davening pleasure with a few short selections. Since I wanted to continue the feeling of spirited singing, I brought out our Zemirot booklets so that those who stayed would enjoy a few special Shabbat songs.
For me, singing Shabbat songs always brings back a certain magical feeling. I recall growing up in a synagogue, a large percentage of whose members came largely from Europe. These were mainly survivors of World War II, who had made their home in Yonkers, New York. They brought with them a rich history of songs they had learned from their communities, most of which had been wiped out during the Holocaust. They had every right to be melancholy; bitter. But, these people, who attended every Shabbat morning, and every Shabbat afternoon, came armed with something that surpassed the horrors of war. They came with an indefatigable faith in the Jewish way of life. They knew it was up to them to make sure to pass along that which they remembered from Europe. And, I was the beneficiary of that mission.
Every Shabbat afternoon, about an hour and a half before the end of Shabbos (I often use the Ashkenazic pronunciation, because that is the way they pronounced it, and that particular inflection is quintessentially "Jewish" for me), we would gather for the afternooon (Mincha) prayer, followed by Shaleshudes" (Seudah Shelisheet, in modern Hebrew, though that hardly rolls off my tongue that way the European phrase does).
After enjoying a light meal of herring, tuna fish and egg salad (lox was too expensive!), the men (it was always men, since they each felt a personal obligation to ensure a traditional minyan) began to sing Shabbat melodies - Yom Zeh Mechubad, Baruch El Elyon, Tzur Mishelo, and several others. It was impossible not to get caught up in the singing; it was vibrant, enthusiastic, and, towards the end, a bit sad, as all of us understood that the end of Shabbat was near, and we would have to wait another week before we could gather and capture the spirit of Shabbat.
But those were magical times; opportunities for me to glimpse a tiny fraction of glorified Jewish life..... I often wonder if our dogged pursuit of intellectual rigor in Conservative Judaism hasn't left us suspicious of expressing heartfelt passion. Moreover, the number of non- Orthodox people interested in observing Shabbat has not increased, further reducing the possibility of transmitting these gems. As we get further from the lifetimes of European Jews steeped in tradition, will their melodies and songs disappear with them, as well ?
I hope not. I'll continue to do my part to teach some of these melodies and Zemirot to those who are interested. Maybe some of my "students" will teach others, as well.
The atmosphere was already conducive to singing. Our choir, under the able baton of Ben Isecke, added to our davening pleasure with a few short selections. Since I wanted to continue the feeling of spirited singing, I brought out our Zemirot booklets so that those who stayed would enjoy a few special Shabbat songs.
For me, singing Shabbat songs always brings back a certain magical feeling. I recall growing up in a synagogue, a large percentage of whose members came largely from Europe. These were mainly survivors of World War II, who had made their home in Yonkers, New York. They brought with them a rich history of songs they had learned from their communities, most of which had been wiped out during the Holocaust. They had every right to be melancholy; bitter. But, these people, who attended every Shabbat morning, and every Shabbat afternoon, came armed with something that surpassed the horrors of war. They came with an indefatigable faith in the Jewish way of life. They knew it was up to them to make sure to pass along that which they remembered from Europe. And, I was the beneficiary of that mission.
Every Shabbat afternoon, about an hour and a half before the end of Shabbos (I often use the Ashkenazic pronunciation, because that is the way they pronounced it, and that particular inflection is quintessentially "Jewish" for me), we would gather for the afternooon (Mincha) prayer, followed by Shaleshudes" (Seudah Shelisheet, in modern Hebrew, though that hardly rolls off my tongue that way the European phrase does).
After enjoying a light meal of herring, tuna fish and egg salad (lox was too expensive!), the men (it was always men, since they each felt a personal obligation to ensure a traditional minyan) began to sing Shabbat melodies - Yom Zeh Mechubad, Baruch El Elyon, Tzur Mishelo, and several others. It was impossible not to get caught up in the singing; it was vibrant, enthusiastic, and, towards the end, a bit sad, as all of us understood that the end of Shabbat was near, and we would have to wait another week before we could gather and capture the spirit of Shabbat.
But those were magical times; opportunities for me to glimpse a tiny fraction of glorified Jewish life..... I often wonder if our dogged pursuit of intellectual rigor in Conservative Judaism hasn't left us suspicious of expressing heartfelt passion. Moreover, the number of non- Orthodox people interested in observing Shabbat has not increased, further reducing the possibility of transmitting these gems. As we get further from the lifetimes of European Jews steeped in tradition, will their melodies and songs disappear with them, as well ?
I hope not. I'll continue to do my part to teach some of these melodies and Zemirot to those who are interested. Maybe some of my "students" will teach others, as well.
On the Importance of Kashrut
Several months ago, I taught an introduction to Judaism course. Several of our own YJC members enrolled, and came to understand deeper significances of Jewish tradition.
One class was devoted to Kashrut. Among the salient ideas I tried to get across is that Kashrut is far more than what they generally assume. Most people assume that since the Bible commands Jews to observe Kashrut, it is an ancient “ritualistic” or “religious” practice. Of course, this is true.
What many people do not grasp, however, is that this is a superficial understanding of what Kashrut is all about. Even supposedly religious Jews often miss the ethical aspect of observing Kashrut, keeping its rules only because the Torah commands it. While this is certainly a valid reason to keep it, and, perhaps, even laudable reason, it doesn’t go far enough in explaining why Kashrut is an ETHICAL IMPERATIVE. By this, I mean, that anyone who considers himself an ethical person, will, once he understands the ethical aspects of Kashrut, be forced to admit that, from now on, eating non-kosher meat is, simply put, unethical.
As a most basic example, the Torah forbids Jews from eating an animal which has died a painful death. This means, that, unless an animal has been slaughtered by a shochet, or ritual slaughterer, the chances are high that the animal has suffered prior to its death. Those seeking actual proof of this are advised to review the site: www.shechitauk.org . The London Board of Shechita, established more than 200 years ago, explains in detail each of the slaughtering methods used in the industry, and explains why shechita is superior to them all. The main reason cited, over and over, is that shechita is the quicket, least painful way for an animal to die. Only when we can be sure that we have taken the animal’s life as rapidly as we can may we eat of said animal.
The Conservative Jewish movement has launched a program, Magen Tzedek, which examines laws immediately relevant to Kashrut, well beyond the treatment of animals. Concerns such as the welfare of the workers who attend to these animals are equally important, and Judaism has a great deal to say about them. Magen Tzedek is gaining momentum, and the Rabbinical Assembly just issued a statement supporting the work of the Rabbis who initiated this excellent project.
I hope that even those who have never considered observing the rules of Kashrut will want to find out more about the ethical imperative behind this mitzvah; if not for God, then for the animals.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Why I Revere Judaism
Dear Friends:
I'm delighted to share some thoughts with you through our new and improved website. Perhaps this will open new avenues of communication and dialogue for all of us.
King David wrote, many years ago,
"At night I lie down with weeping, but in the morning, [I awaken] with joy."
This short line is so uplifting; so energizing. It's a safe bet we have all gone to bed with worry and care and trouble on our minds; perhaps so much so that it has driven us to despair and sleeplessness. Even King David endured such nights, as he admits, plainly. But, he says, he awoke with joy in the morning, because he understood that a new day brings fresh opportunities to solve problems, or to strengthen his trust that God would not abandon him even when he faced the unsolvable.
Many of you know that I close Shabbat services with the final words of the Adon Olam, which reiterate David's wisdom:
I place my spirit in God's care; my body, too can feel God near.
When I sleep as when I wake, God is with me, I have no fear.
About 25 years ago, I recommended to a man about to undergo serious surgery that he recite these words from the Adon Olam before the anesthesia takes effect. He told me that in the operating room, while he was still conscious, he recited that line to himself repeatedly, until he fell asleep from the drug. He felt that this short prayer enabled him to face surgery with far less dread than he otherwise might have had.
In subsequent years, I have given this same advice to others, when they faced life's vicissitudes. Several people have commented, that they, too, began to feel a sense of calm as they recited these words, and allowed the meaning to penetrate deeply into their minds. Prayer doesn't always have to be a complicated, lengthy composition. But, if prayer is to be effective for us, we must be able to feel its power. That's a challenge we have to work at.
And, when we succeed, the rewards are immense.
During the course of this past summer, and, most recently, with the passing of my father (z"l), I found myself returning repeatedly to King David's words, and to the words of the Adon Olam. Both of these prayers strengthened me when I was weak. Both of these prayers restored confidence when I thought I might fall apart. And both prayers helped me regain a great deal of joy, that I might have otherwise lost, if I felt, for a moment, that a God Who cares for me does not really exist.
I've found our religious tradition and its words to be a remarkable source of wisdom, inspiration and security. These are some of the reasons why I revere Judaism.
I'm delighted to share some thoughts with you through our new and improved website. Perhaps this will open new avenues of communication and dialogue for all of us.
King David wrote, many years ago,
"At night I lie down with weeping, but in the morning, [I awaken] with joy."
This short line is so uplifting; so energizing. It's a safe bet we have all gone to bed with worry and care and trouble on our minds; perhaps so much so that it has driven us to despair and sleeplessness. Even King David endured such nights, as he admits, plainly. But, he says, he awoke with joy in the morning, because he understood that a new day brings fresh opportunities to solve problems, or to strengthen his trust that God would not abandon him even when he faced the unsolvable.
Many of you know that I close Shabbat services with the final words of the Adon Olam, which reiterate David's wisdom:
I place my spirit in God's care; my body, too can feel God near.
When I sleep as when I wake, God is with me, I have no fear.
About 25 years ago, I recommended to a man about to undergo serious surgery that he recite these words from the Adon Olam before the anesthesia takes effect. He told me that in the operating room, while he was still conscious, he recited that line to himself repeatedly, until he fell asleep from the drug. He felt that this short prayer enabled him to face surgery with far less dread than he otherwise might have had.
In subsequent years, I have given this same advice to others, when they faced life's vicissitudes. Several people have commented, that they, too, began to feel a sense of calm as they recited these words, and allowed the meaning to penetrate deeply into their minds. Prayer doesn't always have to be a complicated, lengthy composition. But, if prayer is to be effective for us, we must be able to feel its power. That's a challenge we have to work at.
And, when we succeed, the rewards are immense.
During the course of this past summer, and, most recently, with the passing of my father (z"l), I found myself returning repeatedly to King David's words, and to the words of the Adon Olam. Both of these prayers strengthened me when I was weak. Both of these prayers restored confidence when I thought I might fall apart. And both prayers helped me regain a great deal of joy, that I might have otherwise lost, if I felt, for a moment, that a God Who cares for me does not really exist.
I've found our religious tradition and its words to be a remarkable source of wisdom, inspiration and security. These are some of the reasons why I revere Judaism.
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