Pro-Israel, Pro-Peace

I’ve long considered myself to be both Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace.

Israel: I strongly support Israel, and I generally (but not always) think that Israel does the right thing (or, if you prefer, the least-wrong thing) in its handling of the ongoing conflict with the Palestinian people (and the other Arab nations). I’m a strong believer that the conflict, while certainly exacerbated at times by Israeli actions, is fundamentally the result of decisions made by the Palestinians.

Peace: If I were in charge of the world, then there would be some version of a Two-State Solution in place tomorrow. I believe that the right thing is to have Israel and a Palestinian State, living side-by-side. I believe that not only because it seems to be the only way to achieve a long-term peace, but because I think it’s just – both peoples deserve a country to call their own.

Many people think that it’s impossible to be both Pro-Israel and Pro-Peace. So, I often try to find ways to express how and why I am definitely both. Today, I saw an e-mail by a Rabbi from Israel (whom I know only through his writing and reputation) by the name of Micky Boyden, which says what I often want to say, only more clearly (and, by virtue of his living in Israel, with perhaps a bit more authority). With his permission, I’m posting the majority of that e-mail:

Earlier this week I received an invitation from J Street to join their ranks. (I don't know who gave them my Email address, but that's another matter.) [Ed: J Street is a somewhat new pro-peace advocacy group which feels that the mainstream Israel Lobby is too right-wing, and wants to put forth a more Liberal version of political Zionsim]

Let me put my cards on the table. I believe in a two-state solution and view the parts of the West Bank currently held by Israel as being occupied territory. That having been said, I have lived in the Middle East for too long to be naive. There is no room for Israel on the maps in Palestinian schools, they deny that there was ever a Temple in Jerusalem and they frequently name streets and soccer teams after their so-called shahidim ("martyrs").

I view the rapprochement between Turkey, Iran and Syria with grave concern.

I see that, with all of the best intentions, the United States and her allies have to date failed abysmally to dissuade Iran from pursuing her nuclear ambitions, or Syria from re-arming the Hizbollah in spite of the presence of UN forces in Southern Lebanon.

Against that background, J Street's assertion that "engaging with problematic leaders and states is the basis of a smart and tough foreign policy" rings somewhat hollow and reflects President Obama's stategy that, if we are honest with ourselves, has failed to date to produce any tangible results in rogue states such as Iran, North Korea or Syria.

While I am unhappy that innocent Palestinians in Gaza suffer because of the government they chose to elect, I am more concerned for my family's safety and am worried when Russia suggests (in a view shared by J Street) that we need to bring Hamas into the peace process, knowing full well that they and their Iranian patrons are intent upon the destruction of my country. The fact that much of the international community, encouraged by Israel's enemies, is currently pressing us to divulge information that would bring an end to any ambiguity about our nuclear capability is hardly coincidental.

It has become fashionable, even among many Jews, to blame us for the lack of stability in the Middle East and to liken our actions to those of South Africa during the days of apartheid. Meanwhile, Ambassador Michael Oren is characterized by some at Brandeis as a "rogue state apologist".

I believe that the time has come for Reform Rabbis, who share the middle ground in the political spectrum, to establish an organization of their own to counteract the leftward drift among Jews attracted by the likes of J Street. That does not mean that we should automatically support Israeli government policy on every issue, but rather that we have our feet firmly on the ground and understand that, while idealist considerations should be central to our thinking, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

Washing the doubt away

Here's an interesting tidbit to start your day: according to a study recently published in the journal Science, washing your hands after making a decision can actually reduce the likelihood of second guessing that decision.  In other words, if after making a decision you wash your hands, you're more likely to be confident and content with your decision.

For me, this brings up two overlapping thoughts.  One is, as the article touches on, that religious ceremonies involving water, such as immersion in a mikvah (ritual bath) are probably based on something more profound, and more interesting, than mere ancient superstition.  This isn't just some silly folk-way. There seems to be something deep within us (whether it’s biologically or societally based, I can’t even guess) that responds to water, and sees it as a boundary of some sort. I always learned that the mikvah is supposed to symbolize the womb – coming out of it is not a cleansing, but a rebirth. When we wash our hands, or come out of the water, we’ve entered a new stage, and we don’t have to look back at the old one (or, at least, we don’t have to be beholden to it).

This idea also brings up the overarching issue of ritual. Many have pointed out that human beings are ritualistic beings. We need ritual in our lives, as a way to mark time and transitions. I’ve even heard some of the popular Angry Atheists (I think it was Richard Harris) say that, in a perfect, atheistic world, we’d still have to find appropriate, non-religious rituals to mark these moments*. It’s pretty close to a universally accepted truth – ritual is important, and ritual is powerful. Ritual, at it’s core, speaks to something deep inside of us – it gives voice to something that we can’t quite express ourselves.

* I’ve heard others comment that, inevitably, we’d need people who were experts in conducting these rituals, and in establishing/managing the rules for these rituals. And, people would fight over the rituals, and their meanings, and the officiants, and so on. Sound familiar. So, if that’s all true, I’m not sure that we’d actually have anything different than we have now.

If I had to guess, this is probably why most Jews that I know respond more powerfully to lifecycle events (births, weddings, etc) than to holidays – the lifecycle rituals are marking a time which is already significant to them, while the holidays are marking a time on a calendar which is only theoretically relevant to them, at best. When a ritual is closely paralleled to an internal reality, it’s bound to be meaningful. When it’s detached from any substantial personal connection, it’s almost bound to be empty, right?

It’s hardly a new insight, but one worth remembering. Religion which speaks to our lives, religion which connects to that which is already precious to us, is much more likely to be relevant, powerful and transformative than religion which comes at us from the outside. Religion should reflect the spirit, not be foreign to it.

But, on occasion, religion might just offer practical advice. So, here it is: if you’re not sure about something, make a decision, then go wash your hands of it – literally. It may not be, classically speaking, a religious insight. But, if you heard it here first, then I’ll happily take credit for it.

Israel on our campuses

This year, Brandies University invited Michael Oren – scholar, author and currently Israel’s ambassador to the US – to be their Commencement speaker. A number of students have been protesting this selection, because they feel that Oren represents a right-wing government whose views and policies are antithetical to their own.

If you read the petition, I think that there are actually some valid points (even if I disagree with the gist). They aren’t protesting Oren’s views per se. Rather, they claim that Commencement, a communal time, is not the appropriate venue for so polarizing a figure. They point to many other occasions when speakers, on all sides of the Palestinian-Israel conflict, have spoken.

Rabbi Daniel Gordis, however, has written a piece explaining what is really, in his mind, so sad about this. It’s not that people dislike this or that policy about Israel. It’s that, based on the rhetoric you hear (and, I’d add, often hear and see on campuses), you’d think that Israel is solely a target of protest for these students. That they find nothing positive to say, think or feel about our homeland:

This is where we are today. For many young American Jews, the only association they have with Israel is the conflict with the Palestinians. Israel is the country that oppresses Palestinians, and nothing more.

No longer is Israel the country that managed to forge a future for the Jewish people when it was left in tatters after the Holocaust. Israel is not, in their minds, the country that gave refuge to hundreds of thousands of Jews expelled from North Africa when they had nowhere else to go, granting them all citizenship, in a policy dramatically different from the cynical decisions of Lebanon, Syria and Jordan to turn their Palestinian refugees into pawns in what they (correctly) assumed would be a lengthy battle with Israel.

Israel is not proof that one can create an impressively functioning democracy even when an enormous portion of its citizens hail from countries in which they had no experience with democratic institutions. Israel is not the country in which, despite all its imperfections, Beduin women train to become physicians, and Arab citizens are routinely awarded PhDs from the country’s top universities. Israel is not the country in which the classic and long-neglected language of the Jews has been revived, and which produces world class literature and authors routinely nominated for Nobel Prizes.

Like I said, a good case can be made that a polarizing, political figure is not a good choice for a time like Commencement. Of course, a case can also be made that Oren is a high ranking representative of the Jewish State, and to protest him is, on some level, to repudiate the state as a whole.

But, whatever you feel about the Commencement issue, it’s true that Israel is a hard sell among many Jews in college. It’s true that too many of our youth see Israel only as a negative or, God forbid, evil country. And, that’s sad, and tragic.

I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating. There is plenty that I could criticize Israel for (and have done so). But, on whole, I can easily and passionately defend Israel. They are in a conflict which is not of their own making. They have dealt with it very imperfectly, but far better than almost any other country has dealt, or would deal, with a similar situation. And, despite their failings, they remain an extraordinary country, and an immense source of pride for me. It saddens me that so many students, many of whom are the future leaders of the Jewish people, can’t seem to see this.

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem.

Arizona

OK. I’m going to get into a topic which can easily turn ugly. If you can’t talk about things like Arizona’s recently passed immigration law without getting strident, nasty or crazed, then please stop reading now. There are some wonderful baseball blogs to occupy your time. And, yes, for the record, this is a non-Jewish post, so if you only care about my thoughts regarding Judaism…well, those baseball blogs are really, really good.

Still here? Good. Deep breath. Let’s continue.

As most of us know, Arizona just passed a law which states that if a Police Officer is “reasonably suspicious” that a person might be an illegal immigrant, they can (in fact, they must) check that person’s papers to verify their legality.

Not surprisingly, the liberal voices in the media started protesting immediately. The New York Times has called on President Obama to nullify this law, as an act offensive to Civil Rights. The New Republic has argued that this law is really all about irrational hysteria and political posturing. And, of course, John Stewart has weighed in, mocking Arizona all around.

To a liberal, such as myself, the arguments were obvious – this is an open invitation to racial profiling (which is, I believe, illegal, although I hear different opinions about what that actually means), to oppressing minority groups, just because they share a physical appearance with other people who are coming into our country illegally, and to creating a kind of Police State, giving the police the power to harass whomever they want (which circles back on the profiling argument, since no one is worried that that Arizona police are going to start harassing blond men in Polo shirts). There are also some side arguments, such as the legality of a state enacting immigration laws.

Then, yesterday, The New York Times ran an Op-Ed by Kris Kobach, one of the authors of the legislation. Kobach offers a cogent, calm rebuttal of the major claims being made against the law*. In response to the “racial profiling argument,” he argues that “Reasonable Suspicion” is a well defined term, legally speaking, and that the law expressly prohibits using race as the sole determinant of suspicion. There’s no real danger of the problems being floated by the law’s opponents, he claims. There is nothing to actually worry about, if you use logic, rather than rhetoric. If you oppose the law, then it’s well worth giving this short piece a read.

* Major kudos to the Times for being willing, as they often are, to give space to someone who’s views expressly contradict the stated editorial opinion of the paper.

Well, that leaves a bleeding heart liberal, who tries to stay fair-minded and avoid knee-jerk reactions (such as myself) in a bit of a quandary. As is often the case, both sides actually seem to have a point (if you want to read a wonderful sermon sermon I gave on Yom Kippur on this, check this one out).

I tried to do some poking around on the ol’ Intertubes, to find some reasoned, balanced arguments. Something which would analyze the claims being made by both sides. Something that was addressing the arguments from the other side, rather than just talking past them. Hard to find.

Then, it dawned on me. I may not have many readers, but they surely are the smartest bunch of people out there! So, I’d ask them for an opinion.

My instinct is that, while Kobach’s arguments sound logical, they’re not realistic. Saying that “Reasonable Suspicion” cannot legally, and therefore will not, lead to Racial Profiling might work on paper, but will never actually hold up in the real world. Arguing that all that this law is doing is creating a framework of enforcement around established law (that is, it’s helping police illegal immigrants – who are, by definition, here illegally) and isn’t about any kind of racial battle is naive (at best), given the type of nasty, racist rhetoric which has been part of this debate. In other words, when people talk about “those people destroying our country” and such, and then claim to be unbiased – well, let’s just say that I view that claim of neutrality with a bit of suspicion.

So, what do you say? Knowing that I’ve got some lawyers and academics and thinkers and good people and smart people looking at this, what do you think of the law? Of Kobach’s defense of it? Of my reaction to it?

Please keep in mind – this is a call for rational, respectful debate. Disagreements are, as always, welcome. Respect and decency are mandated.

Truly looking forward to your opinions.

Kosher Sex

So, as I mentioned in my last post, I just taught a couple of sessions on Kosher Sex, a book which describes itself as, “A Recipe for Passion and Intimacy.” Actually, the class was only partially based on the book.  Because, in the end, I have a number of reservations about the book, I decided, instead, to make the class a more generalized look at Jewish views about sex and sexuality.  But, I will say that one of the more interesting insights which I came across while preparing for this class did come from the book.  And, that had to do with the role of sex in a relationship.

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, the author of the book, maintained that our culture misunderstands the relationship between love and romance on the one hand, and sex on the other*. Generally speaking, he points out, we tend to to see sex as the pinnacle of a relationship.  The romantic ideal is that we meet, we fall into like, we fall into love, and then we have sex.  Sex is the ultimate expression of, and fulfillment of, a loving relationship.

* anyone who attempts to make a joke out of the fact that I just said, “on the one hand” in this posting will be docked points for a lack of originality.

Actually, Boteach maintains, that's not how things really work.  The reality is that sex becomes one of the ways in which we deepen our relationships with each other, and allow them to grow into love.  Looking at the Adam and Eve story, that he points out that the Hebrew term which is used for sex is, “to know.”

Even if they were best friends, they were only acquainted with their externalities.  They did not possess the kind of knowledge that linked and hooked them together forever.  They knew only each other's most revealed aspects.  They knew what kind of cuisine the other liked, the holiday destination each preferred, whom their favorite artist were, and which music they most enjoyed listening to.  They even knew the main issues that troubled their childhood and how the other got along with their respective parents.  In short, they knew what the other did, but did not know what the other was.  They didn't know how the other would behave when all inhibition and social adjustment had been surrendered.

Love came only through physical intimacy.  As Adam and Eve took off all their outer garments and inner restraints and behaved around each other in the exact same fashion in which they behaved around themselves, that was the moment when they came to know each other.  Only then did they fathom each other's essence, peering deep beneath the outer layers into the heart and through the windows of the soul.

This is just one example of how different Judaism's view of sex really is from what most people expect from a religion (I would say, “from Christianity,” but I've learned that some Christians feel that the true teachings of the church in this arena have been misunderstood and misrepresented.  I'm certainly not in a position to judge that, so I'll stay agnostic on this one). The truth is that Judaism, in many different ways, believes that sex is not only healthy, but sacred.  It is a way in which we can most deeply know another person, and, not coincidentally, a way which we can learn to know God, as well.

Kosher Sex and the Vatican

OK, the title of this entry might seem like a cheap attempt to get Google hits, but there is a connection.

Last night, I taught the second session (of two) of a class on Kosher Sex. If you don’t know, Kosher Sex is a book by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, a Hassidic/Lubavitch/Chabad Rabbi who has become very well known for his book and his related talks. In very quick summary, the book proposes that sex be seen as a powerful force in our lives – one which can be destructive if abused, but which can incredibly holy if used properly (that’s what “Kosher Sex” means – sex that is within proper, religious boundaries).

For what it’s worth, it’s an OK book. He does a lot of asserting that “X is true” or “Judaism believes Y” without actually providing sources, so it’s hard to know where his instincts/insights end and established knowledge begins. In other words, I can’t tell you how much of his thinking is backed by modern psychology, how much is backed by Jewish thought, and how much is just what he thinks is true. That’s a real failing in a book like this. But, he makes some points which are interesting, and it’s worth checking out if you’re interested.

I’ve been aware of the book for a while, and of Rabbi Shmuley, as well. He’s been starring in “Shalom in the Home,” a show where he goes and helps couples rekindle the love in their marriages. He’s been on Oprah. He’s been everywhere. I’ve always had a hard time pinning down exactly what he was. Sometimes, he seems very reasonable – a smart, dedicated religious Jew who really believes, not without reason, that our modern sexual ethic leads to a lot of unhappiness, and that reclaiming the sanctity of sex is good for all of us. Sometimes, he seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing – someone trying to package old-world thinking into a more palatable form, in order to convince us all to live by one version of Jewish life. Sometimes a moderate; sometimes a fanatic.

Then, today, I see a headline on CNN.com*. Shmuley went to the Vatican and suggested to the Pope that he start pushing Catholics to have family dinners. Why? Because that will make the Church seem more family-friendly, and will help dissipate the anger over the ongoing child-abuse scandal.

* you know, years ago, CNN.com was the best site on the web for updated news. Now, it seems the best place for celebrity gossip and life/culture stories, with a bit of news thrown in. I can’t seem to stop using it to check in on the news, though. Habits die hard. Anyone have any suggestions for a better news site?

Would that work? I’d like to think it wouldn’t, but I can imagine things stranger than a “look how nice we are” campaign actually distracting a very distractible public. But, that isn’t the point, is it?

I think (hope?) that we’d all agree, Catholic, Christian, Jew, atheist, whatever, that the Church’s main problem isn’t a public relations one. The reason that people are appalled by the way that the church has dealt with pedophile priests is that it’s appalling. Outrage is the proper reaction to any religious organization covering up sex abuse.

I would have hoped that we could expect better from a Rabbi. I would have hoped that a Jewish leader would never suggest that the way to deal with a scandal is to distract people from it, rather than dealing with the underlying matter. I would have hoped that someone who claims to be an expert in Judaism would never suggest that PR was more important than substance.

Of course, he got on CNN.com. So, that’s cool. I guess.

Like me, only more spiritual

I’m going to start with a disclaimer – I’m not quite saying what I want here, I think. Or, at least, a topic like this deserves more thought, more organization than this. But, I’ve been trying to get this down for a while, without any success, so I’m going to just do it, and trust that, as inadequate as it might be, it will be an honest stab at something. Maybe it will turn into something more, later. But, in the spirit of blogging, I’m just going to put it out there, as it comes out, without trying to get it “just right.” That being said…

 

A little while ago, I read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert*. I’ll admit two things: first of all, I was hoping to not like it. I knew just enough about it to know that it was the memoir of one woman’s spiritual journey, and that it had gained a lot of popularity in the pop-spirituality world. Those who know me know that I’m, shall we say, a little bit cynical about that world. My religious life tends to be a bit more – well, I’m not sure what the right word is here. Centered? Rational? Sarcastic? Any of my friends want to help me out here?

* Thanks to F.M. for convincing me to read it

The other thing I’ll admit then is that, despite my best efforts, I really did like the book. I could complain about this or that – legitimately – but if nothing else, it was a well written, honest, enjoyable account of an important time in someone's life. Well worth reading, if you like this sort of memoir.

But, I’m not writing this as a book review. I’m writing it because of one specific moment in the book. Lizzie, who is (by her own admission) something of a flake, spends several months in an Ashram (an Indian spiritual retreat center). There, this chatty, bubbly, social butterfly tries to find a spiritual center. She tries to become more serious, in the hopes of finding greater truth and serenity. She tries to change, for the better.

Then, one day, she is asked to become the social greeter for the Ashram. Kind of like Julie, the Cruise Director on Love Boat, she is to greet all of the new guests, make them feel welcome, and help them get oriented. She is given this job because she is so chatty, bubbly and social. She is being asked to use exactly those parts of her personality which she felt were at odds with her spiritual growth. She’s frustrated beyond belief – not even her spiritual guides can see past this breezy exterior to the more serious, profound person trying to get out.

Then, it dawns on her. Her guides are seeing something which she can’t:

If there is one holy truth in this Yoga, [it is that] God dwells within you as you yourself, exactly the way you are. God isn’t interested in watching you enact some performance of personality in order to comply with some crackpot notion you have about how a spiritual person looks or behaves. We all seem to get this idea that, in order to be sacred, we have to make some massive, dramatic change of character, that we have to renounce our individuality…To know God, you need only to renounce one thing—your sense of division from God. Otherwise, just stay as you were made, within your natural character.

 

When I entered Rabbinic school, I was fairly well known to my friends and classmates to be a non-spiritual type. That may sound strange coming from a Rabbi, but in a world where people occasionally led services while swaying in ecstasy (which, fairly or not, I always experienced as mock ecstasy), and where some people tried to talk like a living embodiment of a spiritual self-help book – well, let’s just say that I wanted none of that. Like I said, I’m slightly sarcastic. Moderately irreverent. And, apparently, somewhat given to (sarcastic) understatement, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to become “God’s Little Instruction Book” on feet. I didn’t want to walk around, telling people that I loved their auras, or that I could see into their souls. I still don’t. I don’t like it. I don’t trust it.

But, a funny thing has been happening to me: I find myself, more and more, drawn to questions of spirituality. I’m not even sure exactly what the word means, but “an awareness of the presence of God” is a pretty close definition. I’m going to avoid trying to define, for now, what that pursuit has looked like, because it’s hard to describe with anything approaching conciseness. Maybe in another posting, some day. My reason for talking about it is, I’ve been nervous.

I’ve been nervous that I’m going to start, slowly, turning into someone else. I’ve been at least as nervous (probably more so) that people will think I’ve been turning into something else. One of those ethereal spiritualists who walk around on a cloud of worshipful eminence. Some people might not agree with me, but I kind of like the sarcastic, irreverent me. Maybe a more sincere, reverent version would be better, or would be a better Rabbi*. But, it wouldn’t be me. It took me more than a few years to be comfortable with who I am. I don’t want to change, at least not fundamentally, now.

* please don’t comment with a “oh no – we love you the way you are!” I’m really not fishing for complements with this!

That’s why I loved that section of Eat, Pray, Love so much. It encapsulated, perfectly, the tension I was feeling. The desire to be more spiritual, while still being me. To grow, but not to change, at least, not fundamentally. To be able to be profoundly spiritual – or, more likely, to profoundly search for the spiritual in the world – without having to create or embody a new persona to do it.

Or as Sextus, the ancient Pythagorian philosopher, said, “The wise man is always similar to himself.”