Hunger and Desire the Jewish Way

I remember the years when our children were invited to their friends’ b’nei mitzvah.  We did a lot of carpooling in those years to get them to and from various receptions.  Every parent knows that if you just drive quietly, your children and their friends will sort of forget you’re there and they’ll talk pretty openly.

As the occasional chauffer I heard all sorts of things about friendships and crushes.  But the most entertaining part, I think, was when I’d drive them home from a celebration and hear a critique of the food at the party. 

I’m talking an all-out analysis of the cocktail hour that would make Ruth Reichl proud.

The sushi was better last week.

The franks in a blanket were room temperature – can you believe it?

Etc.

These conversations got me thinking about how, from an early age, we need to deal with desire and self-control.  Beyond that, they can raise questions about the way we think about abundance and scarcity.  A tiny percentage of the world’s population experiences cocktail hours.

This morning, I want to explore the overarching issue, not just as it pertains to food, and that is – what does Judaism teach us about how we relate to the physical world which includes how we eat and how we handle sexuality.

Investing in Our Brand of Judaism

When Deanna and I got married, her father suggested that we speak to his financial advisor about starting an investment portfolio.  We showed up with our modest savings and he recommended two mutual funds.  I followed their progress and noted, after a few years, that they weren’t doing so well.

I asked the advisor about them and he said, “Well, historically they’ve done well.”

And I said some version of, “I’m a very respectful student of history, but how does that help us now?”

And he said then, what he would say to us over and over again, you need to look at the long haul. 

At the time, I thought to myself, the phrase “you need to look at the long haul” must be his way of saying, “I messed up, but I can’t actually say that.”

But truly, over 25 years later, I’ve come to realize that he’s right.  Investments don’t necessarily pay off immediately, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t invest.  Careful, mindful investments generally do pay off in the end.

This morning, I want us to think about our investments – financial and spiritual – and the benefit they bring over the long haul.  Specifically, I want to talk about the importance of investing in the approach to Judaism that our synagogue represents.

For several months, we’ve been urging the congregation to vote for Mercaz, the organization that supports Masorti, or Conservative, Judaism in Israel.  The investment in a type of Judaism in Israel that is traditional yet open and fully egalitarian is crucial.  But we don’t always feel the importance of that investment, frankly, and we should.

Here’s a situation that will explain way we need to invest in Masorti Judaism:

For over two decades, the Masorti movement in Israel has sponsored a program to prepare children with special needs for bar and bat mitzvah. Participants have included children with cerebral palsy, Down Syndrome, ADHD, autism, blindness, hearing impairments and learning disabilities.

Each year, the Masorti movement partners with over 40 special education schools to bring appropriate bar/bat mitzvah training to over 300 children with special needs.  Whatever the physical, cognitive or emotional challenges, each child receives an aliya to the Torah.

This is the only program of its kind in Israel and it has drawn families from across the religious spectrum, including many Orthodox families. 

Let’s fast forward from the genesis of this program to recent events, April 2015.  The Masorti synagogue in Rehovot, a suburb of Tel Aviv, was planning a Shabbat morning b’nei mitzvah celebration in a Masorti synagogue for four children with autism. 

Passover, Politics and the Jewish Obsession with History

I want to speak this morning about the value of history. 

Starting with very recent history.  Last week, the Rabbinical Assembly hosted a call with Dennis Ross about the agreement with Iran. 

He identified 4 areas that need to be emphasized in order for an agreement to be sufficiently satisfying to him:

1.    There needs to be one year minimum breakout period, defined as the time it would take Iran to finalize a nuclear weapon

2.    The international  need to be able to verify; all sites need to be accessible at all times

3.    There need to be severe consequences, that include the use of force, for lack of compliance.

4.    and it needs to be understood that severe consequences, which may include force, can be applied even after 15 years.

He pointed out that there has been mistrust between the US and various nations seeking nuclear power for as long as there’s been nuclear power, that this dynamic is hardly new.

During the Q and A, he was asked about the relationship between Obama and Netanyahu.  He said, it’s not ideal.  But let’s face it – there have been rough spots in relations between US and Israeli leaders throughout Israel’s existence.

He reflected, for example, on the relationship between Ronald Reagan and Menachem Begin which was hardly ideal.  Reagan thought that Begin was a bull in a china closet.  And Begin had reservations regarding Reagan’s mastery of the subtleties of international affairs. 

I’ve referred before to Yehuda Avner’s book, The Prime Ministers, which chronicles Yehuda Avner’s perspective from working in several Israeli administrations from Levi Eshkol to Menachem Begin.

Passover is the holiday which grounds us in historical perspective.  In ways that I will make explicit, and with implications that are political and personal, the Passover story takes us beyond the OMG of the moment and allows us to look at our lives against the backdrop of history and even eternity.

The present can be a very lonely and frightening place and the perspective that this holiday brings can give us insight and hope in multiple realms.

So here we go...

Keeping the Flame Burning Every Day: We Can't Respond Just When There's a Crisis

We get worked up when crises occur – a frustrating election in Israel, perhaps.  Or a series of anti-Semitic incidents in the community - and rightly so.  We should get worked up, we should try to assess the situation, we should speak out if necessary.

But I wonder, and I want to ask us all to consider, what happens the next day?  What happens on a regular day regarding matters that are important all the time, even when a particular crisis is not taking place

I'd like to talk about the day-to-day commitment that we need to have when it comes to matters that are truly important.  Not just what to do when underlying issues erupt in crisis, but what we must do, day after day, to respond to issues that cut to the heart of the kind of nation, the kind of community, we aspire to be.

Kabbalah and Closeness: The Importance of Being Nearby

When I was in Israel recently with a cohort of rabbis, Dror Eshed, husband of Professor Melila Hellner-Eshed, died following a long illness.  I had never met him, though I have gotten to know his wife as one of our teachers, a passionate, brilliant expositor of Kabbalah.   At his funeral, she shared an insight that I want to bring to our congregation.

The Jewish mystical tradition maintains the notion that God’s energy and presence somehow flow into the world as a kind of emanation, the word for which is atzilut.  Dr. Hellner-Eshed pointed out that the Hebrew word contains the same root as the word etzel which means “next to” or “near.”  Some people, she said, associate spirituality with things that are remote and esoteric, thinking of it as a hidden force that we wait for to appear and flow into us.  But maybe the essence of spirituality, she suggested, is that it is near us and that often it flows from us, not just to us.  

She went on to describe how her husband inspired people by being near them and often by inviting them in.  He was an artist who had a studio near Jerusalem.  Frequently he worked with young people who came from disadvantaged homes, giving them opportunities to work in his studio and to gain the confidence that they had lacked.  Dror, she told us, brought atzilut to people because he was etzel, accessible, near them.

We Are Family

Two colleagues and I arrived in Israel last Thursday morning for a week with the Hartman Institute.  We were headed to Jerusalem to meet the rest of our colleagues.  There was a line of cabs waiting at the airport.  My colleague headed toward a particular cab.  As he was starting to put his suitcases in the trunk (and on the roof of the cab), I noticed what was inside the cab.  Piles of books, plates, the remains of a few peppers.  I’m not a neat freak, but the pepper rinds on the passenger seat up front were a bit much for me.  I motioned to my friend, maybe we want to take another cab.  Meanwhile, his stuff was already in the trunk and the driver, a woman named Rachel, was saying, rega, rega – wait a minute, as she picked the pepper carcasses off the passenger seat.  And we got in and away we went.

                                My colleagues and I (back right) at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem

Along the way, she’s asking us questions, where are we from, what are we doing in Israel, she’s schmoozing and schmoozing.  About her family, about her trip to New York, how she hopes to get to the pool by 10 o’clock – she doesn’t swim for pleasure but for therapeutic reasons, she’s facing some economic challenges, etc.

By the time we were on the main highway to Jerusalem I knew a whole lot about her.

The endless conversation, the sharing of good and bad, the few remaining pepper seeds that I discovered underneath me, her pointing out of the shkeydiya – you see, she said, the almond tree blossoms really do bloom on Tu Bishvat - reinforced one thing for me.  That I was with family. 

The week I spent in Israel with over 20 rabbis at the Hartman institute was devoted to Jewish identity in Israel and in the US.  We discussed lots of challenges that face both communities which are in many ways very different from each other; Israeli Judaism by and large is becoming more nationalistic, more tribal, less open; American Judaism is becoming more assimilated, more universal, more open.

But one theme which emerged for me in Israel, which has repercussions in the US, is family. 

What does it mean to be with mishpacha?  The good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly – what does it mean?

One Day with the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem

I’m writing from Jerusalem where I’m participating in the second winter portion of the Rabbinic Leadership Initiative, a program for over twenty rabbis from varying ideological perspectives sponsored by the Shalom Hartman Institute.   In the past I’ve shared teachings and insights that I gleaned from my experience and recently Temple Israel hosted two other rabbis from the program, Rabba Sara Hurwitz and Rabbi David Ingber.

In order to give a sense of the depth and breadth of the program, I’d like to present a chronology, with minor descriptions, of most of the events that transpired on a single day.  Below is an account of my experience with the Hartman Institute on Monday, February 2, 2015.

8 am.  Breakfast with several of my colleagues and Dr. Yehuda Kurtzer, President of the Shalom Hartman Institute of North America.  Yehuda spoke with us about the inaugural year of a new program, a Gap Year for American and Israeli students that allows them to explore Jewish topics together and to engage in dialogue about the realities of American and Israeli life.  He told us that he is thrilled by the enthusiastic engagement of North American Israeli teens that he has witnessed.

9 am.  Study and discussion of Jewish sources from Bible to Zohar that deal with the theme of universalism and particularism in Jewish thought.  Unfortunately the scheduled instructor, Dr. Melila Hellner-Eshed, Professor of Jewish mysticism and Zohar at Hebrew University, was unable to teach due to the death of her husband the night before.  Dr. Biti Roi, a Lecturer in Jewish Mysticism at Hebrew University, filled in for her colleague after offering a brief reflection about Melila’s husband and leading us in the chanting, in his memory, of a medieval poem about the soul.  We made plans to pay a shiva call to Melila. The subsequent study and discussion raised questions that we applied to contemporary Jewish life.  How is the Jewish experience of God and history unique?  What are the parameters of our loyalty to our people specifically and to humanity overall?

With my colleagues at the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem