Rabbi Jon's Website and Blog

Parashat Mas'ei: Planning the Ideal City (from G-dcast)

Haven't posted in a while!

Here is a terrific look at this week's parasha, Mas'ei, courtesy of G-dcast.

Shabbat shalom!

Parashat Shmot: On the Plus Side of Otherness

December is the month of difference for Jews.  We usually deal with it by talking about respect for differences, and appreciation of diversity.

This year Parashat Shmot falls right exactly on Christmas Day.  The opening of the book of Exodus tells for sure a story about "difference" between the Egyptians and the Israelite nation who live as guests there.

You could read Parashat Shmot and focus on the terrible consequences of difference -- intolerance, xenophobia, genocide.  No question that's the screaming message.  In Egypt, the Israelites were not simply different.  They were other, foreign, frightening, unknown.

But there is also another side of the story, which I'm titling here the "plus side of otherness."  You see it in the characters of the midwives who refuse to kill Israelite newborns, in Pharaoh's daughter who rescues the Hebrew boy from the Nile, and in Moshe himself.

Which midwives did Pharoah order to carry out the terrible order against the baby boys?  Depending on how you "vowel" the Hebrew consonants, they were either "Hebrew midwives" or "midwives of the Hebrews."  When Moshe went out as a young man and saw the Egyptian taskmaster beating the slave, did he know he was "going out to his brothers?"  The narrator lets us know, but at know point does Moshe or anyone else identify him as a Hebrew.

The text's ambiguity suggests that the midwives and Moshe understand themselves as outsiders in a power structure.  Or perhaps as both inside and outside, as majority and "other."  This is probably why the midrash names Pharaoh's own daughter -- nameless in the Torah -- "Batya", or "daughter of Adonai."  Somehow she too was an outsider, even in the palace.

These characters who are outside or other are the ones who can step outside, or to the side, and see things without being blinded by their group identity.  And from seeing, they act.  They aren't wholly defined by any group, so the midwives and Moshe and "Batya" can act in solidarity with any group.

To me, one of the best parts of being an American Jew is being other, being inside-outside.  Yes, it is also dangerous to be other.  But we also have the privilege of a different vantage point.  We participate in American life, but have a built-in sensitivity for any group that is being oppressed.  We participate in the economy and the culture, but we can take a stand against the excesses of materialism, worship of things, celebrity, and narcissism.

So being different at this time of year can be a great gift.  The perspective we can have as partial outsiders is not just a difference to be appreciated or "respected."  It can be edgy and subversive, and make others uncomfortable.  Embrace it, and don't give it up.

Judaism and Michael Sandel's "Justice'

Yesterday I had the privilege of teaching a session at Limmud Boston, an extravaganza of Jewish learning that drew probably several hundred people from around the region.  My session was a "Jewish Dialogue with Michael Sandel's Justice."  Justice is a Harvard undergraduate course, a PBS series, a book, and a website as well where you can watch the lectures and get many of the course readings and discussion guides.

I'll shortly post the audio of my session.  Of related interest, especially if you've found me here because you were at the session yesterday, is a video of a talk that one of the participants mentioned yesterday between Professor Sandel of Harvard and Jonathan Sacks, the chief rabbi of Great Britain.

Judaism and Justice - A Conversation Between Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks and Professor Michael Sandel from Harvard Hillel on Vimeo.

Engaging With the Election -- Take 1

Kudos to the Southern New Hampshire Jewish Mens' Club for this morning's forum with candidates for New Hampshire's open Senate seat, 2nd District Congressional seat, and governorship.  Great turnout, great questions, nicely run all around.  It's a tribute to the Jewish community to be able to host such an event.

It was good to see the candidates up close, to hear their voices and read their body language.

I'm going to start having something to say about the election in the coming days -- not who to vote for, but how to approach an election "spiritually."  I have two first reactions to what I heard -- and I only got to hear Kelly Ayotte, Paul Hodes, and Charlie Bass, so that's a caveat.  First, it was a lot of canned speeches in response to thoughtful questions, and I was disappointed about that.  Nuanced questions from insightful citizens deserve better -- this goes for D's and R's alike.

Second, there seems to be such a consensus at least in New Hampshire about the importance of renewable energy for jobs and the economic future.  It's a shame and a shonda that this Congress couldn't get a bill to the president.

More to come about how Jews and Torah might frame the issues and approach the vote, beyond "liberal" and "conservative."

Food Links

What I mentioned in my Torah introduction a couple weeks ago:

• KOL Foods -- Kosher, organic, pastured/grass-fed beef, lamb, and poultry available for shipping to New Hampshire and Massachusetts (among other places)
• LoKo -- Local kosher, free-range chicken from a farm in Massachusetts -- fresh, you put in some time on the farm (we've got a group from the synagogue working on setting up a time to go together)
• Tav Hayosher -- ethical certification of kosher restaurants, mostly in New York, some in Chicago, Philadelphia, and at University of Maryland, through the Orthodox group Uri L'Tzedek
• Magen Tzedek -- new Conservative movement initiative to offer certification that kosher food providers meet high standards in workplace environment, health, environmental impact, corporate governance
  

Shabbat Hagadol: Waiting for Eliyahu Waiting for Us

This week is Shabbat Hagadol, the special Shabbat preceding Pesach.  The Haftarah from Malachi, the last of the biblical prophets, mentions Eliyahu (Elijah) and identifies him as the one whom God will send to us in the future as a messenger for messianic times.  I wrote this last year for the Jewish Reporter, the monthly publication from the Jewish Federation of New Hampshire.  It's a good reading as you open the door for Eliyahu at the Seder.

If Eliyahu's there, I'm there.

Eliyahu comes to every bris (and the way I see it, to every simchat bat as well).  He's there at the end of Shabbat when we light the havdalah candle.  And of course, he's there on Pesach after we finish eating, when we open the door.

I would never miss an Eliyahu moment.  And even though it gets late after dinner at the Seder, you shouldn't either!

Eliyahu is our visionary.  He's on the lookout for the first signs of redemption.  If there's something stirring anywhere that suggests our world may be transforming, Eliyahu's going there to check it out.

That's why Eliyahu comes to see the new babies.  They are so perfect -- they are pure products of love, they bring people together, they spark joy and get us talking about the best qualities of our forebears.  Maybe this little infant will be the one who never loses those qualities, and leads us toward a better world.

That's why Eliyahu visits us at havdalah.  When we are so full of joy, community, family, and wisdom from Shabbat, Eliyahu wants to see if we get it yet.  If we'll take the perfection of Shabbat out into our world, to overcome the barriers that divide and divert us.  Maybe Shabbat will have taught us how to engage in real tikkun olam.

Eliyahu doesn't come for the first part of the Seder.  He's not interested in Dayenu, because he believes that what happened before is not enough.  No, Eliyahu waits until we've talked about redemption in the past, and filled ourselves with freedom, fellowship, and food.

Then Eliyahu comes by our door to see if we are ready to take the responsibility that comes with being the people God has redeemed.  Before dinner, we go over the story, teach and retell it.  After dinner, we turn toward the future.

If we appreciate the fact that we are free, then we will know we have to stand with those who are not yet free.  If we are grateful for the bounty of a Seder meal, we will know that we have work to do to make a world where no one goes hungry.  If we revel in our discussions and creative Seder experiences, we will devote ourselves to building a world that nourishes the minds and souls of every person.

Eliyahu must have a lot of patience.  In the Bible, he comes off as a zealot.  Maybe that's why he has only a few moments with us for a song.  But we need that Eliyahu moment.   The look of question in his eye.  It's a hopeful look, really.  He looks at each of us:  Is it you?  What source of redemption is sitting around this table?

So this year at the Seder, don't race by the Eliyahu moment.  From Pesach, each of us can look at ourselves and each other the way Eliyahu does.  What part of the world's redemption is....ME?

Health Care Reform

As the health care debate reaches yet another crescendo, here are some interesting things:

• Statistics from Dr. Ken Dolkart's presentation at Temple Beth Abraham on January 31, 2010.  One of the most interesting was how much the growth in people working in medicine-related administration (offices, insurance companies, hospitals, etc.) has outpaced the growth in the number of physicians starting in the mid-1980s.
  
  
• The famous article by Dr. Atul Gawande about how Medicare dollars are spent so differently in two different places, and the lessons that might be drawn.
  
  
• An interesting and entertaining (!) overview of the American health care system and its costs by Uwe Reinhardt of Princeton, one of the country's leading health care economists.
  
  
• The Rabbinical Assembly, the organization of Conservative rabbis, is a member of Faithful Reform in Health Care, an interfaith coalition.

Heschel This Week on Race and Justice

Twenty-seven people so far signed up in our congregation to receive a weekly quote from Heschel!  To subscribe to this by e-mail, send a note to me with "Heschel" as the subject or the text.

In honor of Martin Luther King Day:  From a speech on "Religion and Race" (1963)

Friends, at the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses.    Moses' words were, "Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, let my people go" -- while Pharaoh retorted, "Who is the Lord that I should heed his voice and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord. I will not let Israel go." The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end. Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate. The Exodus began but is far from having been completed.

Humanity can thrive only when challenged, when called upon to answer new demands, to reach out for new heights.  Religion is a demand, God is a challenge, speaking to us in the language of human situations....Righteousness is not a trickle; it is God's power in the world, a torrent, an impetuous drive, full of grandeur and majesty.  In the eyes of the prophets, justice is more than an idea or a norm; justice is charged with the omnipotence of God.  What ought to be, shall be!

Parashat Vayechi -- Carrying On After The Golden Age

This is a Dvar Torah I wrote several years ago, originally published on a Jewish site called socialaction.com and currently on-line at myjewishlearning.com.

It's all coming to an end. That must have been Jacob's thought as his life and the book of Genesis drew to a close. In Egypt, far from the land of God's promises. Wondering about his children and their future. Would they preserve the covenant passed down since his grandparents, Abraham and Sarah? Which of his children could be the one who would take hold of the torch? Jacob knew very well that with his children, things would now be different--not Joseph, not Reuben, not Judah, none of them individually would be in their generation what Jacob had been in his--the one. 

A golden age was coming to an end, and all Jacob knew for certain was that the future of a unique set of values and principles would be entrusted to the likes of Menasheh and Ephraim, his very Egyptian grandchildren, whom he was about to bless.

I have often felt as though I missed the golden age of civil rights and social justice in America. I was born too late to march in Washington or Selma, never heard Dr. King speak in person. I arrived at the Jewish Theological Seminary years after Heschel had died. Sometimes, I imagine myself as a college student deciding to head to Mississippi for Freedom Summer. At least, that's how I like to see myself, risking my life for ideals in a struggle where the right side won and it's there in the history books for all to see.

Where is today's Freedom Summer? Where would I go to sign up for the cause that will go down in history? What could I do today as dramatic and life-threatening as Mississippi?

Today, there is no single cause to rivet our attention. Environment, globalization, voting rights, equality in education, economic justice, racism; each seems like its own world sometimes. There is no central address, and no moral and spiritual leader who is the voice for our age. Often the causes feel more like organizations than ideals sparkling in purity.

We live after the golden age, apparently. But rather than moan, we have to find a perspective, and a way to act.

Jacob and his children teach me that the end of a golden age does not mean the end of ideals. Golden ages are important, and they inspire--but they are the exceptional periods. Genesis, after all, is only one of the five books of the Torah.

The rest of the Torah tells of life lived after the first great ones, and in fact much of the remaining story centers on a generation once more removed, not only from the patriarchs and matriarchs but from the Exodus from Egypt, the great liberation experience.

Are those generations inferior because they did not speak individually with God, leave family and homeland on a mere promise, or debate justice with God over Sodom? Of course not. They had in many ways a more difficult task: to make manifest principles that their ancestors had only just discovered.

Dramatic as first steps might be, the tenth and hundredth present their own challenges. Exciting as it may be to meet the charismatic founder, the true test of a vision is whether people in general can sustain it, propound it, and live it.

So I read my copy of "Letter from Birmingham Jail" and fantasize about decisions I might have made--but then I have to face the choices and opportunities here and now.   I choose to focus on doing something about poverty in America by engaging and training a new cadre of Jewish teens, and studying Torah with them as it relates to wealth, work, and community. I work hard at that, and from time to time create something new in the world, a path for young Jews to follow that enables them to see how they can change our society.

In and of itself, that won't land me in the history books. But if in time the books tell the story of a new generation committed to service and social justice, I'll recognize myself as one of the unnamed great-great-grandchildren of Jacob, an heir doing his part to further the visions of the golden age.

There is an old story that traces the Sh'ma, arguably the most central Jewish prayer, to Jacob's deathbed. According to the legend, Jacob let his children know his doubts and fears about whether they would continue in his path. They answered him: Sh'ma, Yisrael--"Listen, Israel," addressing Jacob by his God-given name--"the Lord our God, the Lord is One." We will carry on your vision, they say. And in the process, the first "ungolden" generation writes the words that have unified Jews ever since.

Maybe we, the children born too late to integrate the lunch counters, can be like Jacob's children--the ones to write the powerful new words that make the visions of the past reverberate through all time to come.

Last Day of Chanuka: Dimensions of 8

This last day's focus on Jewish dedication is centered on the number 8 itself.  Eight is a significant Jewish number.  A bris takes place on the eighth day of a boy's life.  Eight is associated with the ancient Temple in Jerusalem -- King Shlomo dedicated the first Temple on Sukkot, the eight-day fall festival.  In the Torah, the portable Mishkan began to operate at the end of an eight-day ritual.

Eight, in other words, is the number that represents covenant.  Seven is nature, and eight is something extra.  What God adds, what we bring -- eight is the partnership between human beings and God in this world.

There are, according to Rabbi Moses Maimonides, eight levels of tzedakah.  The highest level is a gift, loan, or partnership that helps a poor person become self-sufficient.  Leading in the Jewish community in this commitment is the Jewish Funds for Justice TZEDEC program, which I have written about before and can't ever resist boosting again.  TZEDEC pools capital from Jewish institutions and individuals, and invests in loan funds that support economic and community development in low-income areas.  Their newest intiative is called, aptly enough, 8thDegree.  It makes microloans to support small businesses in New Orleans, which is still rebuilding slowly after Hurricane Katrina.  TZEDEC and 8thDegree flow from Jewish teachings but support the wider community.

Shabbat Shalom, Chodesh Tov (it's the beginning of the new month of Tevet), and for a final time this year, Chag Urim Sameach!