See - even in the blogosphere there are thoughtful people, sincere apologies and reasoned disagreement

As almost anyone who might be reading this knows, I am a pretty big baseball fan. In addition to just loving the game, I also love baseball writing, and reading a few baseball blogs has become a great time-waster pastime of mine. Well, if you follow baseball at all, you know that steroids are a big topic, and there's a whole lot of controversy out there about them - not so much "do they belong in the sport?" but more of "what do we do about users?" Well, even more specifically, "Do we let steroid users into the Hall of Fame? What about suspected users?"
The debate is getting pretty heated (baseball fans, and writers, are nothing if not passionate). Some people feel that it's a fools errand to try to sort out who used, how much they benefitted, etc., and therefore we should, more or less, drop the whole thing. Some people think that those people are burying their heads in the sand, and condoning cheating. Some people feel that those people are histrionic and unreasonable, and in some cases involved in a McCarthy-esque witch-hunt. It's all getting rather dramatic.
Now, one of the things I hate most about the Internet is the tendency it engenders towards nastiness. The anonymity, coupled with the speed of it all (it's so easy to fire off an angry missive before you even have time to think about it), coupled* with the difficulty in reading tone, which leads to more angry responses...well, it's a perfect storm for mean spirited, over-the-top screeds. Even some of the writers whom I love have been guilty of it (for instance, the blogger to whom I'm about to refer has, in the same post, I believe, accused anti-Steroid people of being McCarthyists while also reminding everyone that, really, the Hall of Fame is just a museum and, in the end, not that important. Those two things are, if not contradictory, somewhat in opposition, but it's easy to forget that when you're churning out posts!).
* I know - after two things, it's really not "coupled" anymore. Sue me.
So, that blogger I just mentioned - Craig Calcaterra - was recently referred to, by another blogger, Jeff Pearlman, as having minions. Calcaterra took some (mostly) good natured shots at this, pointing out that having "minions" generally implies "being evil."
Well, Pearlman responded, and frankly, I want to find a way to use his response in a lesson some day. Rather than defend what he said, or attack Calcaterra, he simply apologises:

[My new blogging software is acting up; pardon me if the formatting is weird]

I don’t know Craig, I’ve never met Craig and, until a few days ago, I never even heard of Craig. But his recent criticisms irked me, so I fired back. Why? Because of an impulsive and immature need to defend. So childish. So stupid.

This is not who I want to be. I write because I love writing and I love reporting. I love digging into a subject, then digging into a subject about that subject, then digging even more. Books complete me in a way magazine stories or newspaper columns or (certainly) blog posts never have. They are what I love to do, and if you choose to judge me as a journalist, I can only hope those are the barometers.

I hate much of what’s going on out there—the 140-word top-of-the-brain spewage of Twitter; the blog-for-the-sake-of-saying-something blog post; the eagerness to point out the mistakes committed by others; the sheer loudness of it all. I don’t want to be loud, and—in many respects—the recent Jeff Bagwell posts I wrote (the ones that were slammed by so many) were stuffed with more screaming than intellectual discourse (I believe, strongly, in my takes. But the writing was [expletive deleted]). This stuff becomes addictive, however, and before you know it you’re insulting someone because he dared insult you. It’s second grade all over again.

So, first, I want to apologize to Craig.

He doesn't explain what he did with "I was so passionate that I let my emotions get in the way," which is one of the ways in which we often apologize without really apologizing - I mean, who can blame us for being passionate, right? It's like when a job interviewer asks what your weaknesses are and you say, "I sometimes work too hard." None of that here. Just a simple: I got caught up in the junk, and I let myself be dragged down into it. I shouldn't have. But, then it gets even better (for me):

I don’t agree with many of Craig’s points, especially on PED. But his passion is clear in his work, and that’s invaluable.

If there is a running theme on this blog, and in my Rabbinate, sure it's this: the other guy is probably right, too. Even if you disagree with someone, their thoughts, their opinions, usually have merit. Arguments are rarely about right vs. wrong but, more often, about different views with different merits. I've probably said exactly this before, but how much more pleasant and, ultimately, how much more interesting would our world be if we started our responses not with, "You're an idiot," but rather with, "That's interesting, but on the other hand..."?
As the Talmud teaches us: elu v'elu devarim elohim chayim...these and these are the words of the Living God. Ultimate truth is never simple or simplistic. It's rarely linear and absolute. It's probably never fully contained in straightforward statements.
A moment of honest teshuva (repentance) and open-mindedness. All in a baseball blog. What a great thing the Internet is, huh?

The Role of a Rabbi

I came across an article recently about the proper role for a Rabbi. I was going to forward it to one of my Rabbinic e-lists, but I then realized a couple of things:

1. I really want to get back to blogging more (and doing other writing, too)
2. It might be more interesting to hear what y'all think, instead of a bunch of Rabbis.

So, here goes...

 

You may know of Rabbi Shmuley Boteach - he wrote Kosher Sex, and he got Rabbi-famous (which is very different from real famous - he's about as famous as a Rabbi can get, and getting on Oprah is his fame peak. Not bad for an ordinary guy, but clearly not the same as being really famous. But, I digress). He wrote an article in Huffington Post about the role which Rabbis are supposed to have, and the role they actually do have:

Welcome to a generation where rabbis have been defanged and declawed. The days of the rabbi as a weighty moral conscience are behind us now. The rabbi as irritant has been replaced with rabbi as ego-massager. The rabbi's the with-it guy with whom you watch the ball game. Yep, that's one swell guy, our rabbi.

Ah, you say, the Jewish community is sinking into an ever-deeper pit of material consumption and over-the-top bar mitzvahs? Fear not. The rabbi knows where his bread is buttered. He's not going to anger the board by admonishing the congregation about a life bereft of Jewish values.

Rabbi Shmuley goes to say that, in his opinion, this willing de-fanging is the reason that Rabbis don't actually hold much sway in the Jewish world:

Go to any of the major Jewish conferences like AIPAC or the General Assembly (GA) and you'll see the rabbis rolled out to say the blessing on the bread. They are seldom, if ever, consulted on issues of activism or policy. Birthright Israel was dreamed up by two businessmen rather than even one rabbi.

So, we've really got two issues here. On the one hand, you've got the "Rabbis are letting themselves be neutered" argument. Then, you've got the "therefore, no one listens to them." I think there's a lot of validity to both. Start with the first: it's pretty clear that many people, and many synagogues, expect their Rabbis to be more about comfort than about challenge (one classic definition of a Rabbi (or, probably many other people) is that s/he is supposed to "Comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable." We're very good at one, less so at the other). Every Rabbi is willing to take a stand, but I think that our bar for when to take one has gotten awfully high. That's, in some ways, a good thing. But, not all.

Let's imagine that I decided, based on my learning, that Judaism called us to be in favor of restrictions on abortion (Judaism would clearly never forbid a full ban, but that's besides the point; this is all hypothetical). I now believe that Judaism does not "allow" a person to be fully pro-choice. Would I dare to say so in a Bulletin article? In a sermon? On the High Holy Days? I'm not sure - I'd like to think so, but who wouldn't? Would I be willing, as Rabbi Shmuley suggests, complain publicly about extravagant weddings and b'nei mitzvah? If not, am I really living up to my title? 

And, what if I did? What would your reaction be (if you're already pro-life, just reverse the example, obviously). Would you complain to me? To the board? Would you even think about changing your attitude, because a Rabbi said you should? One of my favorite quotes about Rabbis comes from Rabbi Israel Salanter: A Rabbi who they don't want to run out of town isn't a Rabbi; a Rabbi who lets himself be run out of town isn't a man. Sounds good. Do I live up to it*?

* I'm REALLY not looking for affirmation, here. Please don't comment with any, "But Rabbi, you did X, Y and Z." This isn't really about me; it's about the Rabbinate, and about Congregations, and about Jews (it probably applies to other religions, too, but I know even less about them).

As for item #2 - I think it's too simplistic. I think that this de-fanging might be one real factor in the lower status of Rabbis in the Jewish world. I think it's clearly not the only one. 

For either of these - tell me what you think. Do you want a Rabbi (priest/imam/guru/teacher/whatever) to really challenge you, and even protest you? Do you really want it, or does that just sound good? Would you accept it? 

Hmm...

 

 

 

The Chanukah Miracles

[somehow, I put the wrong link in when I first posted this - if you clicked through, try it again - it's much better than the other one!]

Nothing for a month or more, now three posts in a day. It's all about momentum...

Anyway, as you probably know, tonight is the first night of Chanukah. Chanukah is a strange holiday, because it's been so heavily influenced by Christmas - most people realize that the holiday has become so much more important to Jews in the West because our neighbors are celebrating a major festival of their own around the same time (well, most years - this year, we're pretty far apart), and we've done a bit of compensating, as a result.

I suspect that I'm not alone in that, when I was a kid, I loved Chanukah - I thought it was the best holiday. No big surprise - presents will do that to a kid. But, as I grew older, I began to care less about Chanukah - I realized how much our celebration of this festival reflected a kind of assimilation (not exactly the right word, but close enough for now), and a kind of me-too-ism which didn't seem so necessary, once I started to gain a stronger, more mature Jewish identity. Many of us become somewhat proud of minimizing the importance of this holiday which is, strictly speaking, pretty minimally important, in the grand scheme of things. It was a sign of our seriousness as "authentic Jews" that we didn't invest too much emotion into these 8 days.

But, as I've gotten even older, and been able to learn more, I've come to appreciate Chanukah on an even deeper level. The truth is that, however minor or major it may be, Chanukah is an incredibly interesting holiday. The simple story that we tell the kids - the mighty Maccabees defeat the terrible Syrian-Greeks! - misses so much nuance.

The Maccabees were really fighting, among others, Jews who wanted to acculturate - not assimilate fully into the outside culture, but take the best of both worlds and live as honestly as possible as "Modern People," and as Jews. That sounds familiar to me - it's what all of us non-Ultra-Orthodox Jews are trying to do. And, the Maccabees weren't so pure, themselves - ironically, they relied on logical reasoning, imported from the Greek world, to justify some of their actions against the Greeks. So, the purists only fought off the outside culture by appropriating some of it! Crazy!

And then there are the lessons which, whatever you make of the history of the holiday, really can continue to inspire. I came across this lovely article about Chanukah - pointing out some messages which permeate these days of light. See the possibilities of redemption in the ruins of our world. See the sacred, where others see only defilement. Find the small vessels of purity, even if they're few and well hidden. Trust yourself enough to light the flame which begins to banish the darkness.

Those are lessons which even a kid can understand, but only an adult can really grasp.

Chag Urim Sameach - a happy Festival of Lights to you all.

Israel - Rogue, and proud of it

I had recently heard about a debate at the renowned Cambridge debating club on the topic, "Israel is a Rogue State." I heard about it because, by several accounts, Israel fared better in the debate than anyone could have expected. But, I hadn't read more than snippets from the most powerful, effective presentation from the event. One of the speakers on the "pro" side of the issue took a rather unique approach. He declared that Israel is indeed rogue, and that's a very, very good thing for Israel, and for the world:

THE WORD “rogue” has come to have exceptionally damning connotations. But the word itself is value-neutral. The OED defines rogue as “Aberrant, anomalous; misplaced, occurring (esp. in isolation) at an unexpected place or time,” while a dictionary from a far greater institution gives this definition: “behaving in ways that are not expected or not normal, often in a destructive way.”

These definitions and others center on the idea of anomaly – the unexpected or uncommon. Using this definition, a rogue state is one that acts in an unexpected, uncommon or aberrant manner. A state that behaves exactly like Israel.

Given the world that we live in, and the way in which most countries act, do we really want to encourage countries to act like everyone else? I mean, given the countries in that particular region of the world, is being non-rogue (i.e. similar) a good thing, at all?

As the speaker points out, Egypt shoots people who are trying to get into that country - trying to get in, because they're from Darfur, and the alternative is a living hell. Israel? Israel takes them in, makes some of them citizens. Even sends out soldiers to help the ones who can't quite make it.

There's so much more - a free press, equal rights for women, official investigations of governmental misdeeds. In the Middle East, these are indeed "rogue," in the purest sense of the word.

And, we should all be really thankful that there is a country as "rogue" as this. Because, they often do the things that no one else will:

And here’s an argument for all of you – Israel willfully and forcefully disregards international law. In 1981 Israel destroyed Osirak – Saddam Hussein’s nuclear bomb lab. Every government in the world knew that Hussein was building a bomb. And they did nothing. Except for Israel.

Yes, in doing so they broke international law and custom. But they also saved us all from a nuclear Iraq. That rogue action should earn Israel a place of respect in the eyes of all freedom-loving peoples. But it hasn’t.

But tonight, while you listen to us prattle on, I want you to remember something: While you’re here, Khomeini’s Iran is working towards the Bomb. And if you’re honest with yourself, you know that Israel is the only country that can, and will, do something about it. Israel will, out of necessity, act in a way that is the not the norm, and you’d better hope that they do it in a destructive manner. Any sane person would rather a rogue Israel than a nuclear Iran.

On Same-Sex adoption

So, I've been incredibly bad about blogging for a while - life got busy, and all of that. I really want to recommit to writing, though - not only because I know how much you all love to read my every word, but also because I find that it really gets my mind going - especially when we get a good, even contentious discussion going in the comments section. So, hopefully I'll get back to posting regularly.

As a quick hit, I give you this recent posting by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach (he of the Kosher Sex fame). Rabbi Boteach is the closest thing you're ever going to find to a liberal Ultra-Orthodox Rabbi, I think, and he often has interesting takes on various hot topics. When it comes to the issue of same-sex couples being allowed to adopt children? Well...

But to my fellow straight people I offer the following challenge. You have every right to oppose gay marriage. It's a free country. We don't suppress opinions. But aren't you under a moral obligation to adopt the children in their stead? Surely leaving kids to drown without love is deeply immoral. But to stop others from rescuing them is an abomination.

You know, I've often said that I don't think that religion and morality are the same thing - being religious is not the same as being a good person. But, being a good person is an essential part of being religious. In other words, you don't have to be religious to be moral, but you have to be moral to be religious. Or, in the words of Rabbi Boteach:

I am an Orthodox Jew. Judaism and the Bible have been the center of my life for all my 44 years. But if religion has not taught me to respect all men and women who adopt an unloved orphan and be inspired by their example, then it has failed to bring out my humanity or change my heart.

It's a short article, and well worth clicking through to read. Enjoy!

Rockin’ Out, Jewish Style

I was just sent a link to a new website – JewishRockRadio.com. Run by Rich Recht’s non-profit organization, Judaism Alive, it’s a site which streams high quality, modern Jewish music for free.

I’ve only just started listening to it. Some of it seems like “music that’s good for Jewish Music” while some is “great music which happens to be Jewish Music,” if you know what I mean.

Give it a listen, and tell me what you think!

Boring…

Is there an advantage to being bored?

I recently read a review of a new book about boredom called Spiritual Boredeom: Rediscovering the Wonder of Judaism. Interestingly, the book makes the claim that boredom is both deadly for religion, but also essential. Having read only the review, I think that the point is that boredom can drive us to make our religious experience better, but chronic boredom can kill a religious life.

But, it’s part of what the review says about that first point which got my mind thinking:

There are a great few Bloom County comic strips in which Opus is looking for a way to lose weight. He goes from one fad diet to another, each time failing. All the while, his friends are telling him to eat better and exercise more but he insists there must be a better way. There isn’t. The best things in life come through hard work. Overcoming boredom, Dr. Brown tells us, is the same. It requires “restraint, training, and self-control” (p. 83).

We need to rid ourselves of the negativity and skepticism that prevent us from giving religious ritual the chance to excite us. We need to train ourselves to approach prayer and ritual in the proper mindset so that we understand and engage it. That takes preparation. But if you aren’t willing to work to make your Judaism meaningful, don’t complain. Losing weight takes effort and so does making the most of life. “Sin is the failure of individuals to take responsibility for overcoming religious boredom” (p. 25).

I’ve been told, many times, not to tell congregants, especially during sermons, that it’s their fault if they don’t find meaning in religion. It’s pretty obviously a bad tactic. Not only is it unwise (people don’t generally respond to being told, “it’s your fault!”), but it’s also unfair (not everyone who dislikes religion, or a given synagogue, has the same reason, so it’s not reasonable to just give the synagogue a blanket pass on this one). But, all of that being said (and, I really do believe it), there is something to be said for that controversial comment. For most people who don’t find anything worthwhile in religion, it’s probably at least partially their own fault.

Religious experience takes practice. And effort. We shouldn’t be surprised if, absent that effort, it’s ineffective.

Imagine a person who wants to get in shape. So, they go for a run. It hurts. They can’t run fast, or far. They don’t enjoy themselves. The next day, they hurt even more. They certainly don’t feel any better.

Now imagine that this person announces that, based on this experience, they now believe that running is a waste of time, and a sham. They won’t run at all, anymore.

Or, maybe they’ll just try running a couple of times a year. I’m sure that will work out well.

The benefits of running are only there for those who commit to it, and do it regularly. It can be very difficult to get to those benefits. But, without that commitment, it’s fairly obvious that they are unattainable. I think that’s how it is with religion (or, at least with prayer and spirituality; “religion” is much more than just that).

 

One of the nice things about my philosophy/theology is that it doesn’t require anyone to be religious, if they don’t want to be. I don’t think that you’re a bad person, or in some way incomplete, just because you’re not religious. If you don’t want to get involved with religion, or with organized religion, then good for you – don’t. Really. No harm, no foul.

But, that also kind of frees me up to say that if you do want to get involved in religion, then you have to commit. Well – have to might not be right. But, that’s probably the only way this is going to work out for you. If you commit to a religious practice, then there is every chance that you are going to find religion. It may take some time. It may be hard work. It may not always be pleasant, especially at first. It may not look like what you thought you were looking for. But, it will be there.

Like I said before, there are actually plenty of reasons that religion doesn’t work for some people. Commitment is not the only thing you need to get spiritual uplift. But, it’s one of the things. A good worship leader is also essential, for example. But, commitment is definitely essential, too. Necessary, though not sufficient.

The day after a workout, I often say, “I need to either exercise more, or less.” Lately, I’ve been exercising more. It doesn’t hurt as much the next day. And, overall, I feel better.

How about that?