Not Feeling the Nechama this Nachamu

I was hoping that, with Tisha B’Av behind us, I could share some lighter material.  You know, some thoughts on relaxation, vacation, and recharging our batteries.

Then the headlines got it in the way.

Right after Tisha B’Av, a Member of Knesset from the Jewish Home party called for a bulldozer to be used against the Israeli Supreme Court.  This was in reaction to tensions in Beit El, where the court ruled that illegal structures must be razed.  These statements were condemned by all – including members of his own party, and the MK later attempted to walk back from the statement.

Turning to Beit El, whatever one’s opinion regarding settlement expansion may be, the rhetoric is scary.  Times of Israel editor David Horowitz describes this confrontation as “a step on the road to intra-Jewish destruction.”  It sounds like the biryonim, who destroyed the storehouses of food during the Roman siege so as to force a confrontation and war, all over again.  And right after Tisha B’Av!!

Yesterday, the story was of an ultra-Orthodox man who stabbed 6 people at the Jerusalem gay pride parade.  The suspect was jailed for a similar attack 10 years ago.  How?  Why? What?  Is this how a Jew behaves?

I wish I was done.  This morning, I woke up to the horrifying news of a “price tag” arson attack in which an 18-month-old Palestinian child was murdered and his four-year-old brother and parents critically injured and severely burned.  Prime Minister Netanyahu (among others) appropriately condemned this terrorist attack.  I am sick just writing the sentence, so you can read the article for details. 

Eicha – How can we behave this way?  Why would anyone say and do such things?  Like on Tisha B’Av, I cannot comprehend.  Why can’t there be some sense of civility, decency, and morality?  Why can’t there be legitimate disagreement without disrespect, violence, or murder?  We live in a loud world where the biggest, boldest, and most extreme voices and actions seem to matter, so that is the way people behave. 

It needs to stop.

If there is any nechamah (consolation) from this Shabbat Nachamu, it is the obligation to turn around.  How does consolation work?  How does one move from pain and horror to a sense of normalcy?  Nechama means to change perspective, a radical transformation of attitude.  It means the way things are cannot be tolerated and we move back to the way things should be.

This may be difficult or even seem impossible, but, when you consider the alternatives in today’s headlines, we have no other choice.

May this Shabbat usher in some sense of Shalom.

The Holy Ruzhiner and a Proper Tisha B'Av

The Holy Ruzhiner (Rabbi Israel of Ruzhin, 1797-1851) rejected all feelings of sadness, even of bitterness.  So his followers would engage in all sorts of practical jokes on the Ninth of Av in order to mitigate the sadness of the day.  They would throw burrs at each other.  Then they conceived of the following prank: they opened a skylight in the roof of the study hall and dropped a snare; when someone walked into the study hall, they would yank on the rope so that the snare fastened itself around him, and pull him up to the roof.

It happened that the Ruzhiner himself walked in to the study hall.  Those who were up on the roof could not see clearly who was coming in, so they pulled him up.  To their dismay, they saw that they had pulled up their rebbe!  As soon as they recognized who it was, they let him down.

Cried out the Ruzhiner: "Master of the Universe!  If Your children are not properly observing Your 'festival,' take it away from them!"

What did the Rebbe mean?  I think he meant that Moshiach should arrive so there will be no more Tisha B’Av.  (That sounds good to me, too.)

This story makes me wonder what is the “proper” way for us to observe Tisha B’Av today?  How can we make it a day where we appreciate the tragedies of Jewish history and recognize that the world is broken and, at the same time, commit to do something about it?

It starts with something we all know about Tisha B’Av: it is uncomfortable.  We are fasting.  We sit on the floor.  We are losing another summer Sunday.  Embracing the discomfort of the day is a tangible feeling that something is wrong.  We should take that feeling and run with it.  Allow the destruction of the Book of Eichah to bother us.  The terror of the Kinot should disturb us.  The content of classes, readings, and films should move us to feelings of sadness and unease.

Let’s not forget the headlines.  There is the Iran Nuclear Agreement which draws our attention to an unstable Middle East.  How about this headline about world Jewry growing ever more distant from Israel?  Or the sad story of a young woman who left her community and committed suicide – just one example of many who feel disconnected.  I can go on, but you get the picture.

A proper Tisha B’Av begins with discomfort.  That discomfort should lead us to really feeI that there is a lot that is broken in the world.  A proper Tisha B’Av will also include reflecting on what we will do to fix it.

Wishing all of us a meaningful and proper Tisha B’Av.

Miss Meat? Missing the Point

Today is Rosh Chodesh Av, and the beginning of the period known as the Nine Days.  In Ashkenazi communities, the sadness of this period on the Jewish calendar intensifies.  In addition to no celebrations and limitations on joy, people don’t eat meat or drink wine except on Shabbat.   

During this time of year, I get dozens of questions relating to Three Weeks observance.  Can I go to a movie?  Can I paint my house?  Can I wear a new garment I ordered online before the Three Weeks started?  What are the specifics for a siyum that will allow us to eat meat?

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I love questions, and I am encouraged when people are concerned with Jewish law. At the same time, there has to be more to this period of the year.  But there needs to be more.  What do we feel this?  Is our religious or emotional equilibrium shaken during this time of year?

I can only speak for myself, but a look at the headlines is enough to cause me to feel sadness, anxiety, and pain.  There’s the Iran Nuclear Agreement, the usual Orthodox infighting meshugas, the killing of four US Marines in Tennessee, and plenty of challenges that don’t seem to ever go away.  (I need to unsubscribe from these email digests.  It’s all bad news.)

During this period on the calendar, let’s combine our commitment to religious ritual with an openness to feeling the challenges of the day.

Our Sages teach that that "one who mourns for Jerusalem will yet see its glorious reconstruction."  We can begin that reconstruction if we allow the experience of this period to expand beyond action and also include emotion. 

It’s not only what we do and don’t do during this period; it is also what we feel.

Learning Religious Tolerance From a Little Pork in the IDF

You may be familiar with the story of the Israeli Chief Rabbinate considering ending Rabbi Riskin’s tenure as Chief Rabbi of Efrat.  Briefly, the law in Israel is that municipal rabbis must retire at age 75, but their terms may be extended for an additional 5 years.  This process of extension is really a formality.  The Chief Rabbinate, though, decided to call Rabbi Riskin in for “a discussion” about the extension so as to address some “concerns” that members of the Rabbinate’s council had concerning some of Rabbi Riskin’s “controversial” statements and decisions.  Now, thankfully, reason has prevailed, and Rabbi Riskin will continue in his role as Chief Rabbi of Efrat.

This week’s outrage was Religious Services Minister and Shas MK David Azoulay saying Reform Jews “are a disaster to the nation of Israel.”  Of course, this prompted appropriate protests from much of the Jewish world as well as Azoulay’s attempt to explain himself.  (See here.)

These episodes may sound like a really bad joke, but they are, alas, a recurring reality.  Time and again, we hear voices in leadership positions saying outrageous things delegitimizing fellow Jews.  Will it end?  I really don’t think so.

Here’s another crazy story about religion in Israel.  This one has a nicer ending.  “Grandma’s Pork Sandwich Lands Lone Soldier in IDF Hot Water.”  An American serving in the Israeli army was sentenced to military jail for bringing non-kosher pork sandwiches to his base and offering them to fellow soldiers.  It is against IDF rules to bring non-kosher food on its bases, which are kosher.  In the end, the 11-day sentence was reduced to missing a weekend furlough, and the furlough was, ultimately, restored.  Although, wouldn’t you know it that the religious Deputy Defense Minister protested the leniency?

IDF Spokesperson Moti Almos wrote on Facebook: “"The bottom line is that we made a mistake…The IDF will continue to keep kosher, but won't probe another soldier's sandwich…There are tensions in Israeli society and there are different positions and different views. The IDF has room for everyone...”

Let’s replace the Chief Rabbinate and all the other misguided Religious Services officials with this guy.

Kol ha-kavod l’Tzahal – Let’s hear it for the IDF!

I Love America - Religious Freedom & SCOTUS

I really love July 4.  Since my birthday is July 3, America's Independence Day has always added fireworks and festivity to my celebration.  Beyond my personal connection, July 4 is a great day for Jews.  America has been, without question, the greatest Diaspora country in Jewish history. While we say "Ki mi'Tzion teitzei Torah - Torah goes forth from Zion," so much relating to Jewish life today (including support for Israel) is directly linked to America. 

On this July 4th, I find myself thinking about America and religious freedom.  So much of the American Jewish experience is directly linked to our freedom of religion as well as the separation of church and state.  Liberals and conservatives may interpret these ideas differently, but all can agree that these principles are at the core of America's impact on Jewish life.  The issue is especially relevant in light of some recent headlines relating to religious freedom as well as the US Supreme Court's decision affirming same sex marriage as a legal right. 

A few months ago, there was a lot of discussion about Indiana's religious freedom law.  I can appreciate the arguments of both sides.  At the same time, I only wish there could be more genuine respect for both sides.  Why can't we both respect people's religious views AND those who make choices that go against some people's religious views?  Maureen Mullarkey, an artist and writer, captures this struggle in her search for a wedding ring.  Her desire for the Biblical verse containing Ruth's declaration of commitment ("Where you go, I go...) on her wedding ring came up against the refusal of a Chasidic jeweler to engrave that verse on a non-Jew's wedding ring since the verse is about commitment to Judaism. 

Now you can say the jeweler was being silly.  Nevertheless, the article presents the issue in context.  On the one hand, there is freedom.  On the other, there are strongly held religious beliefs.  Who's to say which is more important?  The Constitution, the courts, our consciences?

That brings me to the recent SCOTUS decision.  I thought that the Orthodox Union issued a pretty fair statement.  Orthodox Judaism is anchored in Halakhah, which has very straightforward things to say about marriage as well as homosexual relations.  Nevertheless, we must deal with reality and respect every person and his/her choices.  It's a challenge.

One Modern Orthodox reaction included the following: "The Torah tells us that gay marriage is wrong; how can we disagree?  Our unconditional love for our gay friends and family cannot translate into automatic agreement with their religious and political beliefs." 

I find myself thinking more about how to respond to people.  Rabbi Marc Angel addresses  how the Supreme Court decision will add another dimension to the Jewish family dynamic.  It is our responsibility to ensure that everyone has a place in the Jewish community.  As the world changes, that challenge grows. 

Navigating between religious obligations, religious freedom, and personal choices is not easy.  I think the American Jewish experience teaches us that we are up to the challenge.  Especially in the Modern Orthodox community (even though I prefer Just Judaism), we confront the world the way it is.  As it changes, we will, please God, find a way to meaningfully and properly respond. 

God bless America!