Rachel Barenblat's Blog, page 241

A pre-holiday message

I sent this to members of my congregation this week, as part of a longer letter; I want to say it to all of you who read this blog, too.

Each of us comes to the High Holidays laden with memories. Memories of what shul was like last year, or the year before, or when we were kids sitting beside our parents or grandparents. Memories which we cherish, and also memories which may cause us pain.

Each of us also comes to the High Holidays bearing expectations. What do you imagine services might be like this year? When you anticipate sitting in synagogue, how do you feel: eager? anticipatory? already bored? (All of the above?)

I'd like to invite each of us to cherish the memories which bring us joy, and to release the memories which bring us pain. To let go of the vision of what we imagined these holidays would be, and embrace instead whatever they actually are.

I want to bless you that you might find the connections, the insights, and the spiritual richness you need, in whatever your experience of the Days of Awe may be.

L'shanah tovah tikatevu v'techatemu: may you be inscribed and sealed for a good year! (And Shabbat shalom to all!)

A rabbinic conference call with President Obama

I participated today in a rabbinic conference call with President Obama, organized by the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism. President Obama asked for an opportunity to chat with rabbis about the new year ahead, at this moment which comes shortly before Rosh Hashanah and also as events are unfolding at the UN around the Palestinian statehood vote. (On that vote, by the by: I recommend Roi Maor's Don't blame Obama for impasse on Palestine in +972. Also interesting is Hussein Ibish's Obama at the UN on Israel-Palestine: Good Politics, Poor Diplomacy in The Atlantic.)

Beforehand, we were told that there might be time for some questions, and we were invited to submit questions in advance. Here's what I asked:

At this holy time of new beginnings, how can we best help Israel and the Palestinians (perhaps: Israel and the UN-recognized state of Palestine) achieve a true new beginning? How can we change the paradigm to one which will yield peace?

Our host told us that nearly 900 rabbis participated in the call, which is pretty amazing to me. Rabbi Steven Fox, chief executive of the CCAR, introduced President Obama; then the President spoke; then 2 questions, out of the hundreds which were submitted, were asked. (Alas, mine was not one of them.)

The President began by saying "Thank you for everything you guys do every single day in your communities," and continued, "I want to be sure to wish each and every one of you, from Michelle and me, a sweet and happy new year. Rosh Hashanah offers us this extraordinary sense of possibility because it offers the chance to shape our world for the better." He offered prepared remarks, first about the economy and then about the international scene:

Last week I sent Congress the American Jobs act, a plan to lead to new jobs for teachers, construction workers, veterans, the unemployed; it cuts taxes for small business owners, virtually every working man and woman in America; it is critical in part because of world events which have weakened our recovery.

All of us see in our congregations and neighborhoods that folks are hurting out there. It would be nice if things mended themselves, but given what's happening in Europe and the volatility of world financial markets, we're confronting some significant headwinds in terms of putting people back to work. Our prosperity also depends on our ability to pay down the massive debt we've accumulated over the last decade.

I also put forward a plan that not only pays for the American Jobs Act, but also makes sure we're moving debt and deficits down to a sustainable level...We can't redeuce the budget by denying health care for poor children or for those with disabilities...we need to live up to our obligations to those who are vulnerable.

This isn't about figures on a spreadsheet; it's about who we are as a people, it's abut the economic future of this country...whether we're laying a strong foundation for the next generation. The Talmud teaches us that as parents planted for me, so do I plant for my children. This is about what we're planting.

It's also about fairness. About whether we're in this together, looking out for one another; about whether those of us who've been most blessed materially are willing to do our fair share along with everybody else.

From there, he segued into talking about foreign policy -- which is to say, the issue of Israel and Palestine and this week's UN vote on Palestinian statehood. (I'll offer his remarks here first, and will share my own response to them at the end of the post.)

Obviously this week was also dominated by international affairs; we need to do what's right at home, we need to do what's right abroad.

The issue of peace in the Middle East during these tumultuous times is on everybody's minds. I said yesterday in the speech that I delivered to the General Assembly that peace cannot be imposed on parties to a conflict. A vote in the UN will not create a two-state solution in which a Jewish Israel and a sovereign Palestine are living in peace and security...

We will not abandon the pursuit of a just and lasting peace and end to the conflict. It's in the interests of the Palestinians and the Israelis to resolve this conflict. But we have to make sure that it's done in a way that's fair and just for both sides and a way that takes Israel's security into account.

"The bonds between Israel and the United States are unbreakable and our commitment to the security of Israel are ironclad," he said. (He spoke also about how our nation gives military assistance to Israel and how closely our two militaries work together; I didn't take close notes there.)

As we pursue peace between Israel and her neighbors, we are also mindful that the biggest threat Israel faces from a security perspective is Iran's nuclear program. We've imposed the strongest sanctions against Iran, ever... as a result, Iran finds itself increasingly isolated from the international community. The pressure is being applied vigilantly and consistently.

I'm very proud of this record; the United States and Israel have been strong allies since Israel's founding; we're bound by shared interests, shared values, and by our people and our families.... I hope and pray that this year will be a good year for progress and for peace.

After his prepared remarks, there was time for two questions. The first question asked was (in a nutshell): In the aftermath of the Arab spring, Israeli foreign relations are in turmoil. What can be done to help restore peace between Egypt and Israel, and to repair relationships between Israel and Turkey?

The most important thing we can do to stabilize the strategic situation is if we can actually resolve the Palestinian-Israeli crisis. That's what feeds so much of the tumult in Egypt; that's what I think has created the deep tensions between Turkey and Israel, and Turkey historically has been a friend and ally of Israel's. That's why we think that direct negotiations are so critical, and we're going to continue to work with both sides to try to initiate those direct negotiations.

In the meantime we're going to continue to put pressure on Egypt and Turkey to be responsible partners and understand that it is in their interests to make sure that they are maintaining a strong diplomatic relationship and open lines of communication with Israel.

The situation in Egypt is obviously still in flux. You have a military council that hasn't really found its footing. The expectations were so high after the overthrow of the Mubarak government; now because they haven't moved as fast as they should have in terms of implementing elections, what you're seeing, I think, is the kind of disorganization and uncertainty in society that can be directed inv ery negative ways.

We're pushing hard to make sure that on the one hand Egypt's democratic processes are moving quickly, that economic opportunities exist in Egypt, but also being clear with them that the US' relationship with Egypt is centered on them retaining strong communications and retaining their peace arrangements with Israel. And they've gotten that message. After the incident at the Israeli embassy, the Egyptian government was very forceful in accepting responsibility, recognizing that it had been a mistake...both governments have handled that properly.

With respect to Turkey and Israel, the key here is to try to get beyond the flotillas. We've been engaged in some intensive diplomacy between those two parties to try to get Turkey to lower the rhetoric and make sure that there's a recognition that each country that has such a strong tradition of friendship stands to lose if there's an irrevocable breach between Turkey and Israel...But again: so much of the kindling for these tensions can be swept away if we can get back to direct negotiations and there's some prospect that that issue can be resolved.

...There's a limited window during which we can hope to get a serious conversation going; the Jewish community in the United States helps shape public opinion...The United States is going to be there no matter what; we will defend and stand with Israel in international forums and also militarily. From that position of strength, we need to recognize that longterm security for Israel will derive out of the kind of peace that is lasting and just.

And the other question was about domestic policy, specifically education. The questioner cited the Talmud in its praise for those who teach the children of the poor as well as of the rich, and asked about the state of the American educational system.

There's a longstanding decline in education in the United States, which predates any [economic] crisis. For the last 30 years we've been talking about how we need to upgrade our educational system...essentially what we say is, we're going to hold schools accountable; we're going to make these decisions based on facts and evidence about what works; we're not going to tolerate school systems that are drop-out factories or that track certain students so that they can't perform. And by the way this is a problem not only for inner-city schools! Even our ordinary suburban schools are falling deeply behind compared to countries like South Korea or China. We're going to be insisting on high accountability, putting money where there's a commitment to reform. So much of this has to do with getting excellent teachers into the classroom.

Reform efforts, he said, have been promising; 40 states have initiated reforms which were previously considered impossible, and teachers' unions have agreed that we need better training and better accountability.

What's happening at the same time is enormous budget pressures. Even during the debt ceiling debate, we've been very protective of federal funding of education It's increased K-12; it's massively increased in terms of Pell grants allowing young people to get back to college. The big problem is at the state and local levels. A lot of states are laying off teachers in droves. No matter how well-intentioned the school is, if they're losing ten percent of their teachers, they're going to have problems. That's part of the reasons why this jobs bill is so important; it says to states, we will help you get through these difficult budget times. Keep your teachers in the classroom.

The President also spoke about schools in disrepair around the country and how that too impacts childrens' learning. "We're going to have to reform our school system, and that has to be an all hands on deck effort," he said: not just government but also parents and teachers. (He also noted that the Jewish community has always valued education and thanked us for reinforcing that attitude and that ethic in our communities.) "There's nothing more valuable than how our young people are performing in school."

And the second part of this, he said, is a straight budget issue. Are we going to pay for what our kids need? He urged us to bear in mind that we need to close corporate loopholes and ask the wealthiest among us to pay more. Schools across the country have eliminated all extracurricular activities; they may have only one science teacher running around to five districts because the schools can't afford to employ one at each place; these are real problems all over the country, and we need to take action.

Rabbi David Sapirstein closed out the call by citing the popular name of President Obama's healthcare program -- Obamacare -- and said that all of us on the call are surely confident, after this call, "that Obama cares."

I'm glad I was on the call. It was pretty neat to spend half an hour listening to the President of the United States speaking to me and to my colleagues.

I wish that the President had urged us to pressure the Israeli government to behave ethically and righteously toward Israel's Arab residents and toward inhabitants of the Territories. I wish he had spoken about the extent to which American support allows the Netanyahu government to sustain the settlements and to maintain an untenable status quo. But I know that the President needs to toe a centrist line on this issue, and I wasn't surprised either by what he did say, or what he chose not to say. I'm glad that his first response to the question of how to repair Israel's relationship with Egypt was that Israel and the Palestinians must reach a just and sustainable peace, because I agree with that one thousand percent.

One way or another, I'm with Rabbi Sapirstein: Obama does care, and I appreciate that a lot.

Tilt

The Arctic, at equinox. Satellite image from Science photo library.

This morning I forgot what day it was; I told a friend it was Tuesday, and he gently reminded me that it is Wednesday. Cue panic! I have class this afternoon, I thought that was tomorrow! The new year is one day closer than I thought! Is everything going to be done in time?

In truth, I think I'm in fine shape. My sermons are written. My machzor (high holiday prayerbook) is marked-up with notes to myself, sticky flags to remind me which prayers I'm leading and which will be led by my friend and colleague who's serving as our cantorial soloist. There's a flurry of tasks to be done at the synagogue, but I think we're mostly on top of those.

What's challenging for me is the sense that I'm juggling so many balls that I might be dropping a few and I might not even know it. There are things I've almost forgotten to do, and remembered only in the last moment; what else might I have forgotten? What am I not remembering that I'm not remembering?

Of course, the Days of Awe -- as big a deal as they are! -- also aren't the only thing happening at this moment in time. Our religious school has gotten underway, and this weekend our monthly Sunday morning programs will begin. I haven't had time yet to move my summer clothes out of my closet, but I need to; that time has come.

My parents are coming to visit in just a few days. It's apple season. I just replaced the fading summer flowers in front of our front door with a pot of deep maroon mums. A piano tuner is here, making our old upright sing again. Roofers are working on re-shingling the roof of our house, so that (God willing) by the time Sukkot rolls around, only our sukkah will be open to the rain.

And my challenge in all of this is to keep breathing. (Right here; right now.) To trust that everything will get done -- or, that if something slips through the cracks, it'll all be okay in the end. To sing Psalm 27 and remember what I'm really seeking at this season: not just efficiency and productivity, but to dwell in God's house all the days of my life.

It's the equinox today, or something very near it. The hinge-point on which the solar year turns. Midway between the year's longest day and the year's shortest day. (Here in this hemisphere, I guess that makes it the official first day of fall; for my readers in the global South, it's the first day of spring.) The earth tilts and turns as it has always done.

Seen alongside the great cycles of the cosmos, my to-do list isn't such a big deal, is it? Surely this whole glorious planet is God's house, and all I need to do in order to dwell in it is to take a deep breath and remember.

Wise voices on Middle East politics and on Torah

If the Days of Awe didn't begin next week, I'd like to think that I would be taking the time to write something substantive and meaningful about what's happening in the Middle East right now. Instead, I'm offering links to a few essays I've found useful of late.

On the recent attack on the Israeli Embassy in Cairo: Encountering Peace: The View from Cairo by Gershom Baskin. ("What's needed is stronger bridges, not higher walls.") Baskin writes:

All of the Egyptians that I have spoken with condemned the attack against the Israeli embassy. The story on the street and among the youth leaders of the revolution is that the leaders of the mobs that torched the Ministry of Interior, the headquarters of the el-Ghad party and the Israeli embassy have been identified as members of the hated former internal security forces. They say that these people are actively working to undermine the revolution and to show that post-Mubarak Egypt is a lawless society where all security has broken down. They hope to hijack the revolution and to bring back the old regime.

On Israeli settlers and the so-called "price tag" policy: Price tag -- a violation of Jewish values by Rabbi Barry Leff. ("Jews have been world's favorite scapegoats since 4th century, so they of all people should be sensitive to how terrible it is to make someone a scapegoat.") Rabbi Leff writes:

[T]he greatest sin the perpetrators of the price tag campaign commit is the sin of hillul Hashem, the desecration of God's name. Attacking a mosque – a house of worship of the same God that we worship – and burning Korans that do reverence to many of the patriarchs, matriarchs and prophets in the Torah –makes Judaism look bad. It gives our religion, and by extension, our God and Torah, a horrible reputation. It makes Judaism appear immoral, insensitive and disrespectful toward others in the eyes of the nations.

I want also to lift up two posts which focus on last week's Torah portion -- which I think speak deeply, if indirectly, to current events in the Middle East as well.

My Father, the Wandering Aramean… by Rabbi Brant Rosen at Yedid Nefesh. His post looks at two different ways of interpreting a verse from Torah (אֲרַמִּי אֹבֵד אָבִי, usually translated as "My father was a wandering Aramean" but sometimes rendered in a very different way), and asks:

These two readings illuminate a critical question that inform our collective Jewish self-understanding to this very day. Centuries later, the question remains: with which narrative will we identify? The narrative in which we are the perpetual victim or the spiritual seeker? Does our story forever pit us against an eternal enemy – or does it ultimately celebrate our sacred purpose and the promise of blessing?

Milk and Honey by Rabbi Laura Duhan Kaplan at On Sophia Street. This essay offers me a blessing for the continuing journey. Reb Laura offers her own interpretive translation of part of this week's Torah portion ("When you come to a place of spiritual fulfillment, / an inner place that finally feels like "home," / notice what ripens inside you...") and notes:

In Jewish thought, the journey of the Exodus is the paradigm for all spiritual journeys.

We move from the narrow place of slavery, to wander in the wilderness, and finally reach a land flowing with milk and honey... Some days, I feel I'm still in the narrow place.

My thanks are due to the authors of all of these essays, whose words have informed me and uplifted me this week.

How do I want to be remembered?

This morning I wrote my own obituary. It was homework for the Sage-ing class I'm taking during this final semester of the ALEPH Hashpa'ah (spiritual direction) program. And wow, was it a fascinating experience.

Writing the story of my life to date, in condensed but meaningful form, was thought-provoking. What are the details I would want to share about my growing-up, about my formative relationships, about my childhood and my college years and my journey into poetry and the rabbinate?

Then, of course, the obit became more of a "here's what I hope the rest of my life might look like." I hope to live for many more decades; I'm only 36. So I spun out a fantasy of what the next fifty or sixty years might hold for me, and then wrote about it in the past tense, as though it had happened exactly the way I'm imagining.

If, God willing, I live into my nineties, how would I want to be able to describe my life? How would I want to be able to describe my relationships, my work, my impact on the world? How do I want to be remembered?

It's an amazing spiritual exercise. And, not for the first time, I'm struck by the additional power this class has for me because I'm taking it during a fall semester, as the Days of Awe approach. We're well into the month of Elul, the month which offers the opportunity for reflection and discernment before the New Year comes.

This obituary exercise is a powerful thing to do just before the Days of Awe. The Unetaneh Tokef prayer which we recite on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (see Everyday I write the book) teaches us that God opens the book of memory, which reads from itself, as each of us has signed our name through our deeds. What are the actions which I've recorded in the book of memory this year? Who am I, and what do I want my time on this earth to be?

Before you ask: sorry, but I'm not going to share that obituary here! The part which describes the life I haven't yet had feels too personal and revelatory. (Besides, I don't want my advance obituary to show up as a google search result.) I am saving it on my computer, though. Maybe I'll take the time to revise it over the years to come as my life unfolds. If nothing else, someday it will give my descendants a glimpse of how I saw myself while I was still here.

On harvesting basil, just before Shabbat

This afternoon I leave work early and head for Caretaker Farm. There's supposed to be a frost tonight; we've been invited to come and uproot the basil plants before the frost blackens them. I kneel in the herb garden, uproot half a dozen plants, twist the woody stems until I can free their root balls and leave them there on the soft earth.

I bring home three grocery-store bags filled with basil plants: stems and leaves and bits of soil. It feels like the end of a season, a hinge, a turning-point into something new. The moon of Elul is waning. Selichot is a week from tomorrow. Change is coming.

"I wrote about this once before," I think, as I am carrying the plants inside, so when I deposit them in the kitchen, I pause to search for the post. Yes: Basil harvest -- September 16, 2007 -- four years ago, give or take a day or two. I remember that evening of picking late basil with Ethan, down in the fields as the last light lingered over the mountaintops.

Each year the same events unfold, but something in us is different. So much has changed since that 2007 post about picking basil. I couldn't have imagined then the bright, willful, rambunctious son I have now. I couldn't have imagined then that I would now be serving this community as its rabbi. And yet so much is unchanging: the mountains and the sky, the scent of the herbs, the vastness of the heavens, the prayer of the heart.

Alicia Ostriker's Psalm 27

Psalm 27 is traditionally read / studied / sung every day during the month of Elul. Here's one way to interact with the psalm today: by reading this contemporary poem which plays with the psalm's language and themes.

 

elul: psalm 27

we are told to say the following
every day for a month
in preparation for the days of awe:

you are my light my help
when I'm with you I'm not afraid
I want to live in your house

the enemies that chew my heart
the enemies that break my spine
I'm not afraid of them when I'm with you

all my life I have truly trusted you
save me from the liars
let me live in your house   

-- Alicia Ostriker (from her three-part poem Days of Awe.)

 

Thanks for this rendition of psalm 27, Alicia. What a beautiful distillation of what's at the psalm's heart.

(Here's Reb Zalman's translation of the full psalm; here's a wonderful Nava Tehila melody for one verse from this psalm; here's a round up of various links, essays, poems, and artworks arising out of the psalm; here's Achat Sha'alti, a musical setting of part of the psalm.)