Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Surviving the crash

I just watched this short, powerful testimony given by one of the survivors of that famous Hudson River crash-landing. He talks about the lessons he learned during and after that near-death experience.

On the one hand, the lessons are fairly obvious:

  1. Enjoy lfe's moments - don't put off happiness
  2. Don't waste time on things that aren't important
  3. Be a good parent - love your family

Fortune cookie material? Maybe. But, also clearly some of the most important lessons that can be learned. And, not surprisingly, these are some of the exact same lessons that Judaism is trying to remind us of, constantly. Life is best lived by focussing on that which really matters, and really sustains, while doing our best to ignore, or get rid of, everything which makes life painful, or vapid. That doesn't mean that we're supposed to be hedonists - to do whatever we want, whenver we want, because it feels good. There's a difference between pleasure and positivity (that's not the right word, but it's close enough for right now, I think. You get the idea). Focus on what really matters.

Rabbi Larry Kushner once taught me that the purpose of a spiritual life is to live each moment as if you just walked away from a car crash, unscathed. You get that heightened sense of awareness, and of appreciation. You understand, fully, about the difference between what really matters, and what doesn't. Religion, spiritual practice, is supposed to give us that sense, without the absolute horror of actual impending doom.

If you have a quiet couple of minutes today, do yourself a favor and watch that video. Simple, obvious and unbelievably powerful.

And, a hat-tip to Janice, for sending the link!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Basketball in Sederot

This won't get posted until later, but right now, I'm on my bus, in Sderot, sweating. Why am I sweating? A few of us played basketball at the lovely indoor playground here.

It's a beautiful day - mid 70's, sunny,breezy. So, why were we playing inside? That's the only court. They had to build an indoor playground, because it's fortified against missile attacks.

Since Operation Cast Lead, two years ago,it's been quiet. Only a few hundred missiles in these couple of years.

Did I mention that there's a play area for infants and toddlers in this fortified playground?

Advice

Today, we met with the mayor of Sederot. You may have heard of this city - it was the target of a vicious bombing campaign - starting in 2001, Hamas started launching missiles, regularly, into the city, hoping to hit - well, to hit something. The started launching missiles just before and after school times, hoping to hit a bus. It went on for 8 years and 8000 missiles, until Israel finally launched Operation Cast Lead, hoping to put an end to the attacks.

Israel was condemned by much of the world for having the audacity to kill Gazans.

When I've got more time, and a better keyboard, I'll write more about this, but I want to pass on one quick story from my visit with the Mayor. I asked him what he would tell the Prime Minister, if asked for advice about how to proceed with Peace Talks and the Palestinian negotiations. He answered with a story.

A man goes to his Rabbi and tells him of a problem. "I have 100 chickens, and a few of them died last night. What should I do?"

"Do you feed them a lot or a little?"

"A little."

"Feed them a lot."

The next day, the man comes back. "Rabbi, last night, 20 chickens died. What should I do?"

"Do you give them a lot or a little to drink?"

"A little."

"Give them a lot."

The next day..."Rabbi, now 30 died last night."

"Are they free range?"

"No."

"Let them roam."

The next day? "Rabbi, now they're all dead."

" Oy. I'm really sorry to hear this. I had a lot more advice to offer you!"

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Loving Israel

So, as some of you know, I'm in Israel right now. I was lucky enough to get picked for an amazing training mission, being run by the WZO* and Israel's Foreign Ministry. They're training Rabbis to be better advocates for Israel.

* the WZO is the World Zionist Organization, the group which was founded by Theodore Hertzl, the founder of Zionism. It's basically the official body of Zionism.

I've been learning and seeing SO much, and I want to try to pass some of it on here, but we've got almost no down time, and we're all fried from long sessions, so it's hard to form a coherent thought. There's so much to say.

So, for now, let me say just one thing. It's not new, but this trip has re-confirmed it for me. Zionists like myself, especially those of us who teach, try to explain why we should be Zionist. Why we need to support Israel. In the end, I think we fail, because I CAN'T explain my Zionism to you, any more than I can really explain to you why I love my wife. I can list lots of reasons (for either) but they'll miss the point. They aren't the real reasons; they're just after the fact explanations.

Why I really love Israel...is because I love Israel. I love the look of the hills, and the buildings. I love cabbies who are both rude and friendly at the same time, and I love sitting outside while I wait too long for my dinner. I love the Supreme Court (more on this later; I really love it), and I love the cheesy city center. You can never really explain love, can you? You just do it.

Maybe, if I write and speak well, I can help you feel some of this. But, ultimately, it's personal. Everyone has to have their own love affair with Israel, if you're going to have one at all. Trust me - it's worth it!

Friday, May 13, 2011

Is Personal Choice enough?

Rabbi Leon Morris has written a fascinating article in which he claims that Reform Judaism has to stop seeing "Personal Choice" as it's core (and, some would argue, only) principle. 

For many, many years, Reform has embraced autonomy as the foundation of our form of Jewish life. That embrace came about not so much because we thought it was a good idea, but because we thought it was true. In other words, no one said, "You know what would make an effective, powerful basis for religious observance? Autonomy!" Rather, we accepted the reality of autonomy. We knew, based on then-cutting-edge scholarship, that the Torah, and the rest of our sacred tradition, did not get handed down, directly and literally from God. Where they did come from, and what that means, is a very, very long discussion. But, one very large implication was that we could no longer say that "we have to do X, because God said so." Religion was now, like it or not, based on something else. And, ultimately, that meant that we had a choice.

You see, when we believed that "God said you have to do X," then not doing X was a really big deal. It involved dissapointing God or, even worse, angering God. But, now? What does dissobedience really mean? If I choose to not keep kosher, or give tzedakah, or anything else, then what line have I crossed? Where is the authority behind that law?

It's a complicated discussion, and I'm giving it short-shrift, to say the least. But you get the idea. When you take a literal commanding God out of the equation, and you don't have some other source of authority, then what you have left is some form of autonomy - I do this because I choose to. So, Reform Judaism, I believe, embraces autonomy because it acknowledged autonomy - anything else feels like a lie, even if it's intended to be a sacred lie.

But, that doesn't mean that it's a good, or effective system.

Autonomy may be real, so Reform Judaism may be "true," in some large, philosophcal sense (I think it is). But, that doesn't necessarily mean that it makes a good basis for a religious life. It's possible that, by focussing on autonomy, we've created a system which is better in theory than in practice. That, I think, is what Rabbi Morris is getting at:

But trying to build a movement on the basis of this term is like trying to build a nation around the assertion that “it’s a free country.” Of course, we would say, but there is so much more that follows. A 21st century Reform Judaism can no longer afford to have “personal choice” as its core principle because it eclipses other more central Jewish values that are needed now more than ever. Rather, personal choice must been seen simply as a given and the starting point for a variety of commitments we make.

Personal choice is a seductive motto because it can confer a seemingly ideological veneer upon the most haphazard and unreflective religious decisions. Convenience can easily be masked as commitment. In addition, personal choice undermines the notion of standards of any sort, making anything defensible and everything an equally valid choice.

I've heard this argument before, and I think it has a lot of merit. What I don't think I've thought about (at least, not much) is the tension that we've built around education. We claim, as a movement, that education is now even more important. How can you make Informed Choices (that's the preferred term in the movement) if you aren't well-informed? But, again, there may be a divide between theory and practice here:

Finally, personal choice may sound as though it is predicated on a high level of knowledge to be able to make such decisions. But the impetus for learning is greatest when one feels claimed by what one studies, and when there is a degree of engagement that joins the hand with the heart. While impossible for we post-modern Jews to read a classic text without a “hermeneutic of suspicion,” we are unlikely to do much serious learning without an accompanying “hermeneutic of embrace.”

The problem is that Rabbi Morris does a very good job of pointing out some of the limitaitons and failings of autonomy/personal choice. He doesn't really suggest how to replace them, or with what. The greatest virtue of Reform Judaism, and our commitment to autonomy, is that it's also a commitment to truth. I can claim that God insists, or more obliquely, that "you have to." But,what does that really mean?

To put it differently, what if autonomy isn't good enough, but it's all that we really have?

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Does God make mistakes?

You know, I have a soft spot in my heart for anyone who can make a cogent, rational, calm argument about an emotional issue, especially one which is a big hot-button. I still believe deep down that we'd be so much better off as a society if we could speak strongly but quietly about the most important issues. So, I was deeply impressed by the compelling, measured comments made by Minnesota rep Steve Simon about homosexuality:

But, I was also impressed, more specifically, by his religious argument. It's one I've used, but I don't know that I've ever expressed it as well as he does.

There are a lot of homosexuals in our world. A lot. Millions. Probably hundreds of millions.

Does God make that many mistakes?

I mean, if God really hates fags, why does God make so many of them?

Seems like an important question to me. Especially to those of us who claim to be religious. 

I wish that those who are so sure of what God wants, and what God thinks, would be a bit more careful with their surety. Maybe God is telling exactly what S/He wants, when S/He makes it so.

Dancing and Singing about Bin Laden

At this point, it almost feels like old news: Bin Laden is dead. Over the past few days, the news sources, blogs and just about every other source you can think of has been filled with various takes on this momentus event. And, far and away, the Jewish sources (mostly blogs) that I've been reading have had one repeated them: Jews should never, ever celebrate the death of an enemy (I've seen this from non-Jewish sources, as well, naturally).

The most common prooftext offered for this opinion is a famous Midrash (Rabbinic story) about the crossing of the Red Sea. When our people were freed from Egypt, we famously were saved, in part, by God splitting the Red Sea, and letting us walk across on dry land. Once we were through, God let the Egyptions cross, too, but He closed up the sea on them, drowing them all. In response to this, our people burst spontaneously into song, celebrating this great victory, and also explicitly celebrating the death of our enemies. 

That much is in the Torah. The Midrash expands on that story, though, and has God offering a chastisement. "How dare you sing," God rebukes, "while My people are drowning?!?" The Egyptions may have been our enemies; they may have been our opressors. Many of them may have been evil. But, they were also people. They were, each and every one, created betzelem elohim - in the image of God. They were each a human life which, our tradition teaches us, is of infinite value. To celebrate the death of a person -- any person -- is a sacrilege, and an affront to God. We are allowed to fight back; we are never allowed to celebrate the death, or suffering, of our enemies.

There is one big problem with this teaching, though. It's incomplete, and it's often misquoted by Rabbis. God does not chastise the Jews for singing in joy at the death of the Egyptions*. God lets us sing. Twice, in fact (once the men; once the women). But, then the angels start to sing, and that's when God steps in. God chastises them, not us.

*In fairness, I should say that this is true in the most famous version of this Midrash, as it's found in Midrash Rabbah. But, there are often variant versions of any Midrash, and it could be that there is another version which goes against what I'm saying here.

The lesson? It seems fairly obvious to me. It's reasonable for people to celebrate the deaths of their enemies. But it's not ideal. It's not holy.

Our tradition is trying to be nuanced. It's so easy, as always, to be a bit extreme, to see the world in black-and-white. Either it's acceptable, or even laudable, to dance in the streets when an undeniably evil person like Bin Laden dies. Or, it's wrong, and it's something we should never do, and it's somewhat shameful when we do (I've seen more than a few blog postings which take a, for lack of a better word, condescending tone towards those who celebrate).

The best take I've seen on this yet? It might be from a decidedly non-Jewish source - a blog that my wife pointed me to, named Girl's Gone Child:

Because it IS complicated. Because I want more than anything for my children to understand that everything is. Even this. Especially this.

No one in their right mind is sad that Bin Laden is dead. But, should I be celebrating? Reflecting? Thinking pensively about the nature of the world? Honestly? I want to do it all. Some may not reflect the best parts of me, but they're real. I've got a bit of angel in me that's just sad about the whole, tragic thing. There's part that wants to dance in the streets, since one of the most evil men in the world is gone. 

It really is complicated, isn't it?