The Shortcut Seduction

Israel’s Ministry of Absorption created several ads, aimed at the parents of Israelis living in the United States.  The point of the ads was to convince these parents that Israeli identity will be lost in the US and they ought to bring their children home.  

In one ad, Israeli grandparents are skyping with their children and granddaughter.  

Behind the grandparents is a lit Hanukkah menorah.  Grandma asks the little girl, “Do you know what holiday it is today?” and the little girl says, “Christmas.” 

The girl’s parents look at each other with sadness, and the grandparents look sad as well.  

The unseen narrator says the following:  “They will always remain Israeli.  Their children – no.  Help them return to Israel.” 

Another ad features a young couple coming back from a party.  The man sees his partner sitting next to a lit candle and says to her, assuming she’s interested in a romantic evening, “now I understand why you didn’t want to go to the party.”   Turns out she’s looking on her computer at a display for Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s Memorial Day. 

The unseen narrator says the following:  “They will always remain Israeli.   Their partners won’t always know what that means.” 

The ads caused a lot of controversy in the US. 

Of Forests, Trees and SAT's

Myopia is not just a problem for optometrists.  We suffer from it abroad and in our own backyard.  Among other things, it affects how men and women relate to one another and how children approach their responsibilities.  

I’ll start in Jerusalem and then bring it closer to home.  

There is a new campaign being launched in Israel today by the New Israel Fund.  As described in a recent Ha’aretz article, it seems that there are fewer and fewer pictures of women being displayed publicly in Jerusalem.

It isn’t just a lack of women in bathing suits we’re talking about; it’s fewer and fewer pictures of women altogether as advertisers are increasingly coming under pressure by ultra-Orthodox groups.

So the New Israel Fund decided to launch a campaign.  The campaign is called “women should be seen and heard.”  Specifically, it was started by a group dedicated to maintaining basic equality and tolerance in Jerusalem – a group calling themselves Yerushalmim, residents of Jerusalem.

The Sin of Silence

Simon and Garfunkel sang memorably about the "Sounds of Silence." Silence can be a virtue.  It can give us opportunity to reflect.  The Talmud says that silence can build a fence around wisdom.

But silence can also destroy.

Silence can be evil’s accomplice.

When evil occurs, the last thing we need is silence.

We need to make what our liturgy refers to as ra’ash gadol – a big noise.

Imagine what might have happened differently seventy years ago in Europe if the world had made a big noise.

Imagine what might be happening differently in Darfur and the Congo today if we made an even bigger noise than we’re making.

For that matter, imagine what might happen differently to children in locker rooms, home rooms and cyber chat-rooms if everyone knew that bigotry and bullying would be met with condemnation, rather than silence.

Let our creator, who called heaven and earth into being with courage and words, help us to find both when we need them.  Amen. 

Originally delivered as the closing benediction for the Annual Dinner of the Holocaust Museum and Tolerance Center of Nassau County, November 18, 2011.

What's Our Story?

I want to address a question that I believe we all think about, a question which, for me, emerges out of the stories in the Torah in general, and an especially complex story about Abraham in particular.

What do we do when life is an unpredictable mess?   The answer is, we tell stories.  But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

“After these things, God tested Abraham.” (Genesis 22:1)

You might think that it’s clear what things took place before God tested Abraham, or that the nature of the test was clear.

It seems that many scholars who commented on this had differing opinions. 

Who Are We?

Identity in general is supremely complex.  It’s likely that our gender, our profession, our sexuality, our color, our nationality, our religion and our politics are all part of our identity.  And all of these factors interact in complicated ways. 

For example – years ago, a Jewish woman who covers her head out of modesty told a story, in a public forum that I was part of, about how she was once in an airport and struck up a conversation with a Muslim woman who also covers her head out of modesty.   She said that following that conversation, she felt a strong identification with that woman, stronger than she feels with many Jewish women.

A liberal-minded Jew may at times identify more strongly with a liberal-minded Christian than with conservative-minded Jews.  The reverse may also be true.  And sometimes – the religious commonality will trump everything else and create the strongest identification.

I want to challenge all of us to ask ourselves, “what are the different parts of our identity?  And how does religion figure in?"

Perseverance

We all held our breath as Gilad Shalit was returned to his family following five years of captivity.  My rabbinic colleagues, along with many other observers, debated the matter on-line, wondering if the right decision was made to release so many prisoners in exchange for Shalit.

Notwithstanding the enormous pain this may well cause the families of those who were killed by released prisoners, as well as the possibility that further terrorist acts will be perpetuated by the released prisoners, I believe that Israel achieved the best outcome possible given the lousy parameters of the situation.

Israel has demonstrated that she will take great pains to reclaim her own, something which is essential in upholding morale in a nation where everyone serves in the military.

How will this affect Israeli politics?  Palestinian politics?  The possibility of at least a cold peace between the two groups?

Imagination

Back when I was in college, I took a walk by myself in Central Park.  A man who was taller and stockier than I came up to me out of the blue, stood in front of me and asked, “Are you worried?” 

And I quickly swallowed and said, “No.”  And he said, “Well - you should be.”

We are at the start of the New Year.  And if I’m gauging my own mood and the mood of others accurately, we don’t need anyone to tell us that we should be worried.   We’re plenty worried.  We’re worried about our children and grandchildren, our nieces and our nephews.  Will they find work?  Will they find love?  Will they embrace Jewish tradition?

We’re worried about the United States.  What will become of our great nation?

We’re worried about Israel.  How will she ensure her future at the beginning of the 21^st century? 

We’re worried about ourselves.  How will we withstand all of the challenges that face us – health, money, despair and downright exhaustion?

I’m not going to pretend to solve all these problems, though I have a suggestion.  It’s not a perfect suggestion, but I think it’s an important and Jewish one.

It’s expressed by one word – imagination.