Thursday, February 25, 2016

Learning from our "Sparring Partners"

One of the most moving tributes composed for the late Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia was written by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.  By now it’s well-known that they were friends.  They socialized, went to the opera together – even road an elephant together while visiting India. 


As part of her tribute she wrote:


“From our years together at the D.C. Circuit, we were best buddies.  We disagreed now and then, but when I wrote for the Court and received a Scalia dissent, the opinion ultimately released was notably better than my initial circulation.”


When she was writing a landmark case in the area of gender equality in 1996, Scalia gave her an advanced copy of his dissent which enabled her to refine her arguments.  


She said that Scalia “nailed all the weak spots — the ‘applesauce’ and ‘argle bargle’ — and gave me just what I needed to strengthen the majority opinion.”


Rabbinic Judaism has a concept that I want to explore – it’s called בר פלוגתא bar p’lugta.  A bar plug’ta is like an intellectual sparring partner – so the Mishnaic sage Hillel was the bar pl’ugta for Shammai and vice versa.  The Talmudic sage Abaye was the bar pl’ugta for Rava, and vice versa.  


A bar p'lugta is someone who often has a different ideological perspective or orientation than you, but who you are in conversation with, and ongoing conversation leads you and your bar p'lugta to a sharper iteration of whatever the issues are.  Interestingly rabbinic texts point out that many of these pairs did actually socialize.  They didn't go to the opera together, but we are told that Hillel and Shammai ate together and married off their progeny to one another.


I see this concept in my parents’ generation more than in my generation.  In this synagogue, I see my parents’ generation far more willing to have vociferous debates across ideological lines and far more likely to have friends across the ideological spectrum.  There seem to be a bunch of reasons for this which can be the topic of another conversation.   


For now, I want to use myself as an example of how we might learn from people who see things differently than we do.  

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

The Crucial College Years

On Thursday, February 11, Temple Israel of Great Neck hosted Rabbi Julie Roth, Executive Director of the Center for Jewish Life (CJL) at Princeton University.  Given the many reasons why Jewish life on campus is important to understand as deeply as we can, I’d like to provide a summary of her comments in this forum for those who were unable to attend.



Rabbi Julie Roth speaking at Temple Israel

Rabbi Roth addressed four major issues as they've been approached on the Princeton campus:  BDS (Boycott, Divest and Sanction), Jewish pluralism, relations with other faiths and the mental health of college students.

During the past academic year, the Princeton CJL leadership opposed a divestment effort launched by a member of the faculty.  Rabbi Roth summarized the main developments, including the divestment proposal, the opposition of CJL to the proposal, the criticism leveled toward the opposition and the response of the CJL at various junctures.  Two main outcomes resulted.  The divestment proposal was ultimately defeated.  In addition, the CJL established a new student group called Tigers Together, described as "a coalition of Princetonians committed to promoting trust and partnership between Israelis and Palestinians by supporting projects that both build mutual trust and make immediate impact on the ground today. "

Rabbi Roth addressing a group of students at CJL

The CJL actively seeks to foster a spirit of pluralism among Jewish students, one which affirms and actively creates context for a wide diversity of religious observance.  In keeping with universal Hillel practice, religious services routinely include Reform, Conservative and Orthodox options.  Rabbi Roth shared a specific example about how the recitation of Friday night kiddush is conducted so as to accommodate a range of practices and beliefs.  

Rabbi Roth is involved with the Office of Religious Life, which oversees programming for individual religious groups and actively promotes opportunities for interfaith dialogue and engagement.  Among other interfaith initiatives, she and the Campus Imam recently led a group of Jewish and Muslim students on a trip to Spain.  She shared with us that while dialogue with Muslim students so far has largely avoided political discussions by design, she hopes that there will be constructive ways to include politics in the conversation moving forward.

Lastly, Rabbi Roth identified the increasing role that Hillel professionals at Princeton and elsewhere are playing in responding to students' mental health needs.  As she indicated, the college environment places significant stress on students as a result of academic and social pressures.  More and more, she and her colleagues recognize the importance of providing a comfortable space for students to unwind and to speak openly about issues of personal concern.  

We are well aware of the significance of the college years in helping to form identity, hone intellectual skills and establish patterns of behavior that will likely have lifelong implications.     For Jewish students, the college years provide an opportunity to broaden and deepen Jewish identity and commitment.  

Considering the many challenges that Jewish students face and the remarkable potential that exists, it is gratifying to know that Hillel professionals of the caliber of Rabbi Julie Roth are committed to their sacred task.

Originally written for the Temple Israel Voice, February 2016


Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Many Waze to Join the Story

I got back from a week in Israel a few days ago and I’m going to reflect on that but first I want to share something that happened to me a few weeks before I went.

Platform for Egalitarian Prayer at the Kotel

I had finished officiating at a funeral and got in my car to drive from the chapel to the cemetery ahead of the funeral procession.  While in the HOV lane of the Long Island Expressway, I saw the tire air pressure light go on and heard noises.  For no great reason I decided to ignore both indications until the noises grew significantly louder.  I then pulled all the way over to the shoulder, got out and realized one of my tires was completely shredded almost down to the rim. 

After I called the hearse driver, after the entire funeral procession pulled over so he could pick me up, after the sad burial, after I called AAA, after a very nice AAA guy came to replace the tire with the donut, after I called an auto shop in Great Neck, I plugged the address of the auto shop into Waze, the awesome GPS app pioneered by Israelis that tracks traffic, police activity and stalled vehicles and could probably also order you a felafel on the way.

As I prepared to leave the shoulder, the automated narrator on Waze said, in her characteristically measured tone, “stalled vehicle on the side of the road.”

I know this may sound strange to you, but I got a little nachas when I heard that.  I was like, “wow, that’s me!  I’m the stalled vehicle!”   I mean, I’ve always heard about other stalled vehicles but I’ve never actually BEEN the stalled vehicle.  She was talking about me, by golly.  I was a part of the story.

I hope you’ll forgive the somewhat unconventional introduction to my topic. 

Inflated or deflated, streamlined or sidelined, we want to feel like we’re part of the story.
        Minha with colleagues in a park opposite the Shalom Hartman Institute

For a Jewish person, the need to feel part of the Jewish story is larger than we tend to imagine and we often rush to critique people's motivations before we try to understand them.  

I’d like to share a few examples from my recent, brief time in Israel that illustrate the intense, creative approaches that Jews of a variety of backgrounds, with a variety of ideological perspectives, are using to help them feel authentically a part of the Jewish story.

First example.  I spent my time as part of a cohort of rabbis studying, praying, discussion, schmoozing at the Hartman Institute in Jerusalem, a creative, pluralistic organization seeking to transform Jewish life.