Rabbi Jon's Website and Blog

Parashat Ki Tetze: War, Muslims, and the Manhattan Mosque

The first words of this week's parasha announce two themes.  Ki tetze lamilchamah (Deuteronomy 21:10) means literally, "when you go out to war."  War is obviously one theme.  "Going out", according to the commentaries and Jewish philosophy, is much more than the words first seem to suggest.  Going out is associated with coming of age (the words are used in connection with Yaakov and Moshe), challenging conventional assumptions (Moshe again).  According to a Dvar Torah I heard from Jane Goodman this week at our Religious School Committee, going out means confronting what is hidden within ourselves, and what we most yearn for.

I don't usually use these weekly Divrei Torah on-line to comment directly on current affairs.  But like a lot of us, I have been thinking about the proposed Muslim community center in Lower Manhattan.  I'm trying to find some kind of centering point for thinking it through.

One writer I came across this week -- and I can't for some reason find the source just now -- reminds us that the context for the Islamic center is not simply 9/11, but the ongoing wars.  The ones that have American soldiers conducting operations in Muslim lands, to help mostly Muslim people find security, liberty, and prosperity.  The violent reaction of so many Americans to the Muslim center so close to Ground Zero has included a great deal of slander of Islam.  How can that not confirm the worst suspicions that Muslims over there have about us and our motives?  How can we ask Muslim leaders to address our security needs, to explain that the civilian deaths our military causes are unintentional, to value an alliance with America, when this is what they read about us?

So I think, in the spirit of ki tetze, that we -- Americans generally, Jews particularly -- have to look hard at our response to Islam.  Few of us know any Muslims well, or have studied Islam in even the rudimentary way most of us know Christianity.  Here is the exercise:  every time we hear something, anything, referring to Muslims in a negative light, substitute "Jew" and think about how it would feel.

At the same time, I have come to believe that the spirit of ki tetze -- of surfacing what is hidden, of challenging assumptions -- is required of American Muslims as well.  As Jews, we know well how accountable we are for the actions of the worst of us.  Just in the last couple of years, it's been Bernie Madoff or the selling of vital organs, all the old canards about Jews and money.  Each time a Jew does something heinous, it is required that we actively dissociate ourselves.  It's not good enough to say, these people have nothing to do with us.

For American Muslims, it is necessary to say out loud that they do not support the tyrannies that govern so much of the Muslim world, or terror against the West, against civilians, against innocents anywhere.  It is necessary for them to account for every dollar raised in support of the Manhattan center, and to reject any money that comes with any association with terror groups, or foundations that support the social services provided by Hamas or Hizbollah.  That is the only way that they can point to their humanitarian projects as clear proof that the true Islam is a religion of peace.  That is the only way that someone skeptical will know.

I think this is the same standard that Jews are held to when it comes to the actions of Israel or of Jews.  It is a high standard, and an unequal one perhaps in America.  But true faith means going beyond the minimum expectation.

There's no question in my mind that the group organizing the Cordova/Park51 project has the legal right to do it as long if they obtain the proper approvals.  There is no question in my mind that many Muslims are kindred spiritual souls of mine.  But like us, they have to answer for their crazies and their criminals.  In confronting their demons, they will do a great deal to help non-Muslims confront our own.

Heschel This Week -- Interfaith Dialogue

I suggest that the most significant basis for meeting of men of different religious traditions is the level of fear and trembling, of humility and contrition, where our individual moments of faith are mere waves in the endless ocean of mankind's reaching out to God, where all formulations and articulations appear as understatement, where our souls are swept away by the awareness of the urgency of answering God's commandment, while stripped of pretension and conceit we sense the tragic insufficiency of human faith.

We say no to one another in some doctrines essential and sacred to us.  What unites us?  Our being accountable to God, our being objects of God's concern, precious in His eyes.  Our conceptions of what ails us may be different, but the anxiety is the same.   The language, the imagination, the concretization of our hopes are different, but the embarrassment is the same, and so is the sigh, the sorrow, and the necessity to obey....

We must preserve our individuality as well as foster care for another, reverence, understanding, cooperation...It is neither to flatter nor to refute one another, but to help one another; to share insight and learning, to cooperate in academic ventures on the highest scholarly level and, what is even more important, to search in the wilderness for wellsprings of devotion, for treasures of stillness, for the power of love and care for man.

--"No Religion is an Island" (1966)

Synaplex and Crop Walk

Two items for the local readers:

First, this Shabbat is the kickoff of the new version of Temple Beth Abraham's Synaplex.  Read all the details here.  Our goal is to make sure that there is some way for everybody to experience the joy of Shabbat, for yourself and in community.  I've described that vision in my most recent bulletin article.  Whether it's the traditional service and the whole morning, an hour of yoga, a learners' service and discussion, or just my sermon and singing at the end before lunch.  Something for you individually, and a way to experience the power of community.

Second, on Sunday, October 25 is the CROP Walk (Communities Responding to Overcome Poverty), the Nashua area interfaith walk to raise money and awareness to eradicate hunger overseas and in our community.  It's important for the money it raises, it's important to join our voices and power with those of many other local faith communities.  It's who we are as a congregation named for Avraham and Sarah.  It will motivate us and inspire us to do more to fight hunger and poverty throughout the year.  You can walk or help with arrangements at the synagogue.  I'm aiming for 100 pairs of feet, which would about double our participation from last year.  If you have any questions write me and I can put you in touch with Carol Gorelick or Becky Green, our organizers.

Advocating in the Local Community Last Week

Last Friday, Temple Beth Abraham ended up on page 1 of the Nashua Telegraph.  I spoke on Saturday morning about how we got there, and what else the synagogue has been doing to advocate for our needs in a way that builds our relationships in the greater Nashua area.

The story in the paper was actually only one of three things -- good things -- that happened last week.  On Monday, I was invited to St. Joseph's hospital to speak to staff at a meeting of their periodic diversity training seminar.  We talked about what Jews might experience in a Catholic hospital, and how their caregivers can respond to everything from dietary needs to end of life issues to Jews' different reactions to living in a room with a crucifix.  I tried to represent the diversity of Jews' perspectives, which vary to be sure from person to person, but also by generation or by where we came from.  I told them that the surest way to treat their Jewish patients appropriately is simply to ask them any questions.  And I started out by giving my cell phone number and encouraged any hospital staff to call if they ever have questions about something unique to a Jewish patient.

On Wednesday, Noreen Leibson and I met with all the principals in the Nashua Public Schools to talk about the upcoming High Holidays.  Superintendent Chris Hottel gave us a tremendous introduction, reminding the school heads of the importance of being aware of different students' needs and encouraging them to work with students and parents to accommodate our holidays.  We brought a letter ready to be distributed to students as well as a Jewish calendar.  We talked about not only the days out of schools, but issues around state test scheduling, homework over the holidays, and make-up work on the first day back.  We let the educators know that our students would likely be busy all day on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, in prayer and celebration -- no real time to do homework.  We also said that we were there so we could report back to parents and make it easier for parents to assume their responsibility for communicating directly with teachers.  At least one principal asked us for specifics about which days to avoid testing.

(We will be sending similar information out to other area school districts this week as well.)

Then there was the issue that got us in the paper.  The Telegraph article did us justice.  What we tried to do -- not just me, but the leadership of the synagogue -- was:

• to ask the Hunt Memorial Building to remove a sign that at quick glance confronted us with a swastika out on a public sidewalk on our main street
• to make clear that we are not opposing a possibly controversial play that deals with the Holocaust -- in fact, we advocate keeping the Holocaust and the issues it raises in the public consciousness
• to communicate directly, personally, and in a friendly way to peer organizations in town -- to act in a way that would build the synagogue's relationships in the local community
• to ask for sensitivity, without getting into legal issues about laws and free speech

We followed up with phone calls, and it looks like we did it right.  The building trustees and the theater group were friendly when we spoke afterwards.

The play in question is called "Taking Sides."  It explores the actions of a German conductor during World War II, and the American soldier who after the war wants to prosecute him for sympathizing with the Nazis.  I haven't read or seen it; it may or may not be a thoughtful treatment of the question of whether an artist has a unique responsibility to take sides against the evils around him.  My sense is that at least some of us now ought to see the production, and contribute to the conversations it sparks. This Saturday at 6:30 PM there will be a panel discussion and the shul ought to be represented there; I intend to go for at least part before our Selichot program here.

At the end of my report on these issues on Shabbat, I said that our ability to advocate for ourselves flows from the deep concern for others and sense of community that we have.  And the very same motives are what will enable us as Jews and as members of a congregation to be a moral voice in this community on issues of justice that concern everyone.