Rabbi P.

I don’t know how many of you are Starbucks patrons, but I for one am partial to the “Grande Americano, steamed non-fat milk and 2 sweet-n-lows.” It took me nearly a year to figure out the precise order of the words to get the desired drink. All I really wanted was strong coffee. My how my vocabulary has grown! I was stunned recently when the woman in front of me ordered something that was completely unintelligible to me while the person behind the counter smiled politely and asked, “Would you like whipped cream with that?” I wondered not only what she said, but what concoction she had ordered. It is fascinating to see the emergence of a new language fostered by a commercial enterprise. Who knew how many ways you could order coffee? Remember when it came black, in a cup?

With the concept of designer coffee firmly entrenched in our culture, what does the emergence of a variety of flavors and possibilities mean for the Jewish community? How does this concept impact Jewish communal survival?

Recently, I read a report entitled, “Grande Soy Vanilla Latte with Cinnamon, No Foam: Jewish Community and Identity in an Age of Unlimited Choices”, by a New York Jewish non-profit organization. The findings in this study were revealing. The current generation of 18-25 year olds is known as the “Generation Y” and is marked by the culture of unlimited choices in every aspect of their lives. The Jewish community is not immune from this. As a matter of fact, as the report suggests, that for American Jews in Generation Y, being Jewish is not their sole identity. This generation has unlimited access to American society, therefore Generation Y Jews behave much like all other Generation Y Americans, regardless of religion. Today’s young Jews have multiple identities shaped by many factors, including intermarriage in their families, diverse social networks, and dynamic boundaries around geography and other identity characteristics such as gender and sexual orientation. Being Jewish is part of a larger identity mosaic for today’s Jews.

We know from previous research that earlier generations of Jews felt a need to maintain tight connections as they experienced anti-Semitism, workplace discrimination and other challenges. But unlike Jews in the pre- and post-World War II era, this generation is fully integrated and does not need close communal cohesion in order to survive in a hostile society. Many Generation Y Jews no longer personally experience anti-Semitism or exclusion from the opportunities society has to offer; therefore, they are similar to their non-Jewish peers in that they worry about getting good grades, finding jobs and socializing with friends more than they worry about their religious identities.

Despite their integrated appearance, Generation Y Jews feel incredibly self-confident about their Jewish identities. In contrast to the survival ethic of many of their grandparents’ Jewish journeys, and contrary to the continuity fears of the 1990s, Generation Y Jews are very positive about being Jewish. This is particularly important because members of Generation Y are in stages of adolescent development where self-confidence and building self-esteem is critical to their adult identity formations. There are limits to their self confidence, however; young Jews in this study do not claim to have a depth of knowledge about Jewish rituals, liturgy and text. Being Jewish remains a complicated tangle of spiritual, cultural, historical and ethnic dimensions, but their Jewish self-confidence may be an important factor in their personal development and in the communal evolution of Jewish identity.

For the synagogue, then this stands as a significant area of concern. How in the 21st century will we be able to respond? What will our choices be? If history has taught us anything about the nature of the community, it is in fact that Jewish learning and Jewish ritual are the common denominators across time and space even as the level of knowledge with text and tradition seems to decline, and that the synagogue is the best place to experience the fullness of Jewish life. A renewed effort in these areas on our part will result, I believe in a remarkable mosaic of programs and possibilities, the likes of which we have never seen. It is both exciting and challenging. I look forward to joining hands with you as we walk our way through this time. And if you’ve never have had a “Grande Soy Vanilla Latte with Cinnamon, No Foam”, try it, it’s pretty good!

I was digging in the garage last month in preparation for Passover, getting to all the Passover plates and other wares necessary for the spring ritual. Behind all the Haggadahs and plagues (plastic iterations of the real things!) I came across a New York Times front page that I had framed 21 years ago that proudly shows President Clinton, Yassir Arafat and Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, of blessed memory, together formalizing the end to the Israeli Palestinian hostility. It shows that historic handshake between Rabin and Arafat and contains, at least for me, the historic gasp of, “this might mean actual peace.” The pain of the irony of history laid against that picture being found at Passover, the moment of national redemption was almost too much to bear. That and noting that the glass, protecting the newspaper had broken – a sad testament to the broken promises and broken dreams of Middle East peace, made for a moment of tears. My how far we haven’t come…

I was staring at that picture the other day wondering what all three of those men would think of the recent embrace of Hamas by Palestinain Authority President Mahmood Abbas. I was struggling to find some words of outrage and exasperation when I stumbled upon Leil Leibowitz’s article on this issue. Her words spoke to my heart and gave voice to my shocked silence.
I include her article here. She writes, “Last week, Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, stepped up, stared destiny in the face, and boldly embraced Hamas, ending a seven-year rift between the PLO and the terrorist organization currently in command of the Gaza Strip.

Anyone seriously invested in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict should be grateful to Abbas for providing what this conflict—a century-long thriller in which the plot lines have become impossible to follow—needed most: a moment of clarity. With Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on one end and Hamas’s Ismail Haniyeh on the other, Abbas emerged as the Third Man, stepping out of the shadows to reveal that he was just the man we’d suspected he was all along, the kind of man who walks away from strenuous peace talks and into the arms of murderers.
I’ve written about Abbas’s choice already. There’s nothing more to say: There’s really only so much one can read into partnering with an organization responsible for the blowing up of 21 young people at a disco , or 15 people at a pizzeria , or 30 people sitting down to celebrate the Passover Seder . So let’s not waste time talking about Abbas’s choice anymore; it’s time to talk about ours.

Living in modern and increasingly complex societies governed by so many intertwining interests and conflicting forces, we’ve come to sanctify complexity, cherish nuance, and believe that our every analysis, our every thought, was best if guided by layer upon layer of context and meaning. But there’s another drive at play, the moral drive, which is far more blunt and far more pressing. And right now, if we’re healthy and mindful human beings with at least a modicum of historical knowledge and a genuine desire to see peace for both Palestinians and Israelis, this moral drive is telling us to shout.

It’s telling us to shout because while both sides of this conflict have seen seasoned combatants drop their arms and attempt reconciliation, there ought to be no room ever around any cabinet’s table for men who packed makeshift bombs tight with nails and screws and bolts to better tear at the flesh of innocent children. It’s telling us to shout because while both sides have their share of outspoken dunces with shameful opinions, no one in their right mind should share power with those whose ignorance and bigotry extend so far as to deny the Holocaust . It’s telling us to shout because while there’s been questionable legislation on both sides of the Green Line over the years, the tolerance of every civilized person should end when confronted with those who dispatch armed forces to oppress their women , who systematically persecute minorities , and who know no other form of conduct but wanton violence. Such men are not complex. They are not nuanced, layered, or worthy of a closer reading. They are evil, and they must be dealt with accordingly lest their benighted vision succeed in afflicting more misery and claiming more lives.
Of course, some of us may find talk of evil anathema to the dictates of sophistication and the edicts of cosmopolitanism. Some may argue, as J Street so disappointingly did this week , that “one makes peace with one’s enemies.” There’s truth to that, but only if one’s enemies are ready to abandon their quest to obliterate a people by launching thousands of rockets into schoolyards, backyards, and living rooms. Hamas has indicated no such readiness. Nor can it: As its very charter indicates, the organization is dedicated to annihilating the state of Israel; “in the face of the Jews’ usurpation of Palestine,” goes one choice bit from its charter , “it is compulsory that the banner of Jihad be raised.” You will read nothing of the banner of Jihad in the statement released by the American Friends of Peace Now, which calls Hamas’s pending inclusion in the Palestinian government “a good idea.”

But as some flounder, others rise to the occasion. Speaking with clarity, courage, and conviction, Rep. Ileana Ros-Lehtinen, R-Fla., who chairs the House Foreign Affairs Panel on the Middle East, called on the Obama administration to do the right thing.

“The Administration must halt aid to the Palestinian Authority and condition any future assistance as leverage to force Abu Mazen [Mahmoud Abbas] to abandon this reconciliation with Hamas and to implement real reforms within the P.A.,” Ros-Lehtinen said in a statement . “U.S. law is clear on the prohibition of U.S. assistance to a unity Palestinian government that includes Hamas, a designated Foreign Terrorist Organization, and President Obama must not allow one cent of American taxpayer money to help fund this terrorist group.”

Amen to that. And many thanks once again to Abbas: By partnering with the beasts of Hamas he has condemned his own people to live under an encroaching Taliban-like religious fundamentalism, has very likely deprived his already corrupt and nearly bankrupt government of the foreign aid on which it depends for most of its budget, and has signaled—again—that he lacks the maturity of mind and amplitude of will required of a statesman truly striving for the well-being of his people. But he’s given us a moment of brilliant clarity, and that, in such dark times, is a lot.”
I pray that as we approach Israel Independence day 2014, that the world come to embrace with clarity what we know to be true; that Israel’s real chance for peace comes only with partners who value peace and prosperity for themselves, their neighbors and the world. Unless and until Israel has such partners, we will struggle against that darkness, remaining hopeful that one day light and shalom will shine through. May that day be soon.

The Miracle of Chanukah Is Within Us

One of the wonders of Chanukah is that its ancient theme of miracles – of the few defeating the many, the Temple being purified, the small cruse of oil lasting eight day – is never outdated but always relevant. The most obvious example is the history of the Jewish people itself, having survived all these centuries despite persecution and pogroms, a comparatively tiny nation that has outlasted the Greeks and Romans and 100 other world powers, to be blessed with a state of Israel that once again shines as a light unto the nations.
But the closer we study the Chanukah story and its message of the Maccabees’ victory, the more troubling – and perhaps pertinent – it is for those of us who try to live Jewish lives amidst a dominant secular culture. The fact is that for all of our glamorization of Chanukah, and our outrage and fear over the recent rise of religious fundamentalism in the world, we celebrate in Chanukah the military triumph of a small band of Jewish fundamentalists.
Indeed, the Maccabees, in opposing the spread of Hellenism in ancient Palestine, fought no only the Syrians but their fellow Jews who had assimilated into the dominant, cosmopolitan culture. If Judah Maccabee lived today, would he be waging war, literally, against the leadership of American Jewry? Certainly a militantly Orthodox leader like Rabbi Meir Kahane sought to portray himself as a modern-day Maccabee, suffering the criticism of his fellow Jews who resisted his message of taking arms to defend Jewish land and honor.
Any of us can take the story of Chanukah and make of it what we want. Religious Jews can emphasize the victory of the observant over the secular; militant Jews can point to the military victory of the Jews over the Syrians; Zionists can take pride in the conquering of Jerusalem and the establishment of a political base; liberal Jews can look to the lesson of religious freedom; and some American Jews can find in Chanukah the Jewish response to Christmas, an opportunity to give gifts to one’s children during the month of December.
The rabbis of the Talmud asked, “What is Chanukah?” They concluded that the emphasis should be on the spiritual rather than military significance of the story. The central incident became the purification of the Temple and the miracle of the oil lasting eight days. As if to de-emphasize the military aspect of the holiday, the Haftarah portion read on the Shabbat of Chanukah climaxes with these words: “Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit, thus says the Lord of Hosts.”
Yet in Israel, not surprisingly, the nationalistic and military qualities of the Maccabee victory are given prominence. And too many American Jews think more about giving present than giving thanks. But for all of us, the underlying and unifying theme of Chanukah is the commitment to the struggle, the willingness to persevere for one’s beliefs despite the odds. The difference between the Maccabee fundamentalists of 2,000 years ago and the Islamic fundamentalists of today is the Jews were not attempting to force their ways on the rest of the world but were simply defending their right to practice their own religion. It is a right that has been fought forever since, and remains precious today.
The particular message for American Jews, shaken by the despair of sociological studies that find assimilation increasing at an alarming rate, is not to lose heart. It’s true that we will not be able to transmit our love for our heritage and faith to all of our brethren. But we must do what we can to keep Judaism alive by staring with our families, our children and, perhaps most important, ourselves.
The miracle of Chanukah is the miracle of hope, of defying the odds, of keeping the flame burning within our own souls. That is as important for each of us today as it was for Judah Maccabee more than 2,000 years ago.

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Orim Sameach. May you have a joyful Festival of Lights!

In the aftermath of the Aurora Colorado shootings, as was the case after Columbine, Virginia Tech, and many others, we revive, for a short time, a national conversation about why, about how and about what this tragic event even means in an existential sort of way. We come up with short lived solutions and blame this, that and the other group. Last month was no different. As writer Liel Lebovitz wrote recently, “…after a maniac shot up a packed movie theater in Colorado last week, the prognoses were quick to arrive: Ban guns. Don’t ban guns, but ban assault rifles. Don’ ban assault rifles. Ban violent movies. Don’t ban violent movies. Ban midnight screenings of popular movies, don’t ban midnight screenings of popular movies…” As you can see and have probably heard and read, there hasn’t been a quality thoughtful response. Banning guns or banning anything for that matter is never really the thoughtful, long-term Jewish response.
So if gun control debate is neither a solution, nor outlawing midnight showings of movies what is? Let’s be more serious than this. Rather than be distracted, we should take concrete steps that might actually solve our problems. How about this one: providing readily accessible mental-health services. This I believe is one good first step—as underscored by an unbelievable but sadly common reaction to the shooting.
Recently, Texas Congressman Louie Gohmert, offered his opinion that the shooting was the result of “ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs.” Seriously? This is neither accurate, nor connected to the source of the issues relative to a person so seriously affected by mental illness related issues. If this terrible incident is a result of attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs as Gohmert’s reasoning suggests, then what beliefs are being attacked? I am not sure. What I do know is that the shooter was not attacking Judaism or Christianity or any other religion for that matter. Perhaps, as Liebovitz suggests, by ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs we mean our ongoing refusal to provide the sort of access to health-care professionals who might be able to do something about the fact that while 9,484 people were shot to death in homicides in 2008, 18,735 turned the gun on themselves that year. Rather than suggesting that they might not have done so had they been denied access to guns, the real Judeo-Christian thing to do would be to make sure these troubled souls always have someone they could talk to, no matter what their financial situation.”
It is not unreasonable to connect the mental health dots in this way. What if resources were readily available to those who need it? Indeed, a day after the shooting, a chart began making the rounds on Facebook, citing the statistic that while the United States lost 9,484 people to gun violence in 2008 (the last year for which comprehensive data are available), Finland—where, by the way, guns are easy enough to come by, with 32 privately owned firearms per every 100 civilians—lost only 17. In Finland, there are inpatient and outpatient programs designed to accommodate anyone feeling anxiety or distress, as well as 24-hour emergency services provided free of charge. The government also provides occupational health care, which, according to the Ministry of Social Affairs and Health’s website, “supports the maintenance of mental health, prevention of problems and early identification of problems among the working-age population.” Visit the website of the Colorado Department of Human Services, and you’re told that if you happen to be uninsured, you should seek “family members or close friends who can provide financial assistance.” Which approach do you think is more Jewish if we’re trying to stop a deranged young man from reaching the point of no return?
Banning anything in the aftermath of tragedy is not a helpful long-term solution. Getting to the root of the problem and providing real quality mental health services just might be a thoughtful way to provide the necessary safe outlets for those in need. The call to help those in need and those who cannot help themselves is our historic, Prophetic and quintessentially Jewish response to the broken things around us. We must not fall short of this responsibility. Our very lives are at stake.
Our hearts and prayers go out to those who were killed in Colorado and their family and friends who are grieving. And while we are praying, let us also be mindful of those who are dying every day while we try desperately to find solutions. I pray we will move quickly and decisively to find the healing we all need.

Zip-a-dee-doo-da!
or
A Rabbi’s view of camp from the zip line!

The skies finally cleared after several nights of cloudy, rainy and otherwise dreadful weather to reveal spectacular stars. It was the perfect night for “faculty night zip-lining.” As I awkwardly stepped into my harness and tightened the straps,I have to admit I was glad it was dark so no one could see the look on my face; one of, “Seriously, I am not so sure this will work.” I climbed the stairs and got myself hooked in and secured to the line, when the very nice man at the top said, “ok…jump”. In what can only be calculated as a few seconds short of eternity, I gazed off into the blackness of the night trying to get a glimpse of the end of the cable somewhere down below. Not being able to see anything and having everyone cheering me on from below, and frankly not wanting to be shown up by my wife who went first (and fearlessly I might add), I stepped off the platform and went whizzing down the cable in a thrilling, exciting and fantastic ride. It was great!
I couldn’t help but to think that the zip line is a really wonderful and important metaphor for the experience our kids (mine included) have at camp,whether they are coming to the camp as first time campers, or whether they have been to camp many times over. It is a thrilling ride; sometimes a little scary, sometimes a little dizzying, sometimes it goes by so fast, sometimes you can’t see where you are going or what is coming next. And just when you are really enjoying the ride, it ends.
I know this has been the experience for many kids and their parents. Many first time campers are unsure of where to go, what to say, how to fit in, how to learn what to do and when to do it. Learning camp stuff, enough to make the days enjoyable, meaningful and most of all fun can be a bit overwhelming. Who will be there to catch you? Who will be there to cheer you on? Who will make sure you are safe and secure? Who will guide you in the right way? All these questions I and others asked on the platform of the zip-line; all these questions our first time campers ask. The answers? The wonderful caring counselors will be there to make sure we are ok, and point us in the right direction. The unit heads and camp specialists, the administrative staff, doctors and nurses and the guest rabbis,educators, cantors and faculty are there to support and guide and catch us if we need catching and provide a really soft landing.
For those experienced campers,the zip line is equally important. They too once stood on the platform, nervous to step away from the safety of the “home base” into the unknown. But they did it and they remember the thrill. They remember the confidence they felt challenging themselves to do something they weren’t sure they could. And having felt the thrill of the ride, they make the long walk back up to the top thinking, ” Man….that was cool, and I got to do it and Greene Family Camp. Thank God for that!” I ‘d like to believe that’s what they say. I know I did.

By now I am sure, you like me, are gearing up for what I hope will be an exciting 2012 Summer Olympics. My family and I are big fans and are avid viewers of even the most mundane of Olympic sports. (My personal favorite is the hammer throw!) There is something exciting, majestic and hopeful about the Olympics and I pray this year will be no different.

However, I am saddened to feel that my prayers will not be answered. Every Olympics since I can remember, the opening stories on TV included images and the story of the murdered Israeli athletes at the Munich games of 1972. Whether it was as a part of some pictorial montage or the movie about the incident, the drama and grandeur of the games was always tempered by the terrible history of that event. This year in London 2012 is no different. The call for the International Olympic Committee to formally and once and for all acknowledge the tragedy through a minute of silence has reached an intense tone. What started out as a discussion at the JCC in New York has reached international proportions. Thank God for that.

In a wonderful and incredibly powerful and important essay, Professor Deborah Lipstadt lambasts the IOC for what she considers blatant anti-Semitism for the refusal to include a moment of silence in the opening ceremonies. If you haven’t had a chance to read her article, you can find it here:

http://www.tabletmag.com/jewish-news-and-politics/106409/jewish-blood-is-cheap?utm_source=Tablet+Magazine+List&utm_campaign=6ba8ed2865-7_20_2012weekender&utm_medium=email

In addition, Bob Costas, the NBC anchor who will be guiding millions of viewers through the Olympics, has vowed to make his own statement and issue regarding the moment of silence if the IOC refuses to make it happen. While it is not a formal part of the Games, he will have the television pulpit of tens of millions of viewers to make the important case. I pray he and NBC have the courage and fortitude to follow through.

While London may be far away physically, emotionally and spiritually we can connect our thoughts and prayers to the victims and their families of Munich, 1972 by recalling that terrible night and signing a petition, adding your name to hundreds of thousands of others who are still, in this late hour, urging the IOC to reconsider. I have signed this and I hope you will too.