Israeli Falafel Stand vs. US Jewish Deli

 I love Israel!

I am finishing up a 3 and a half week visit to Israel and my first session of the Shalom Hartman Institute's Rabbinic Leadership Initiative (RLI).  It was an amazing trip!

I love Israel for many reasons.  One of them is that Judaism is so natural here.  

"Mincha?"

That's the question a bare-headed Israeli had for me while I was visiting Tachana Rishona in Jerusalem with my family.  (For those who haven't been there, it's an outdoor amusement space with a shopping promenade and plenty of restaurants built where the train originally entered Jerusalem.)  I wasn't expecting to find a minyan and had actually davened already, but I wasn't going to not join a minyan like this!

What was more surprising was that the minyan initiator was not gathering a minyan to say Kaddish.  None of the participants were saying Kaddish.  In addition, the bare-headed gentleman who got the minyan going didn't even have a kippah.  I had to lend him mine!  (I wore my baseball hat.)  

Israel is the Jewish State, and a living Judaism flows through the streets.  I am not saying everyone is committed to ritual observance.  It is just that Judaism is the default setting on so many levels: the calendar, Jewish dates, Shabbat, the holidays, Kosher food, and more.  It is hard to escape Judaism.  

Like the falafel stand.

This is Falafel Oved on Derech Beit Lechem.  Underneath the Kosher certificate are two signs that you won’t find in the US.  One reads that “Anyone who leaves their change behind should know that it will go to charity.”  The other reads, “We have tefillin here for anyone who wishes to put them on.”

Now, Israel is not perfect when it comes to religion and state.  (Can anyone say “conversions” or “Kotel compromise?”)  But all I wanted was a falafel, and I am surrounded by Judaism.

Compare that to the Jewish deli.

While the few delis left still resonate strongly with Jews, it is a cultural or nostalgic connection.  Most delis are no longer Kosher!  It may be Jewish food, but the Judaism has disappeared.

This is a disturbing and growing trend in the Jewish community.  There may be a lot of Jewish feeling, and the Pew study found 94% of Jews are proud to be Jewish.  At the same time, Judaism - especially Jewish practice - as a dynamic part of one’s life and identity is declining.

Here is one item that hammers this point home for me.  The Jewish Education Project in New York published a report on Jewish teens.  One finding was that “Jewish teens today are often both universalists and particularists.  Their orientation is fluid and depends on their environment at a given time.”  This quote from an older, low-connected teen in Atlanta really caught my eye.

Obviously I’m horrified at what happened [killings in kosher supermarket in France, January 2015], but I don’t know if I necessarily like feel worse because they were Jewish.  I feel like all human life should be valued at the same time. Because the loss of any life is awful regardless of whether or not they’re Jewish.”

Of course, any loss of life due to murder is horrible.  It is sad that we become a little bit immune to horrifying acts since there is just so much killing, and we sometimes only notice when it hits close to home like in Israel or the Jewish community.  At the same time, where is the sense of Jewish connection, of Jewish pride, of Jewish peoplehood?

It is the victory of the deli over the falafel stand.

That is why I love Israel.  Being here inspires and energizes me to talk, teach, live, and love a Judaism which is fundamental, traditional, in your face, and ever-present - even while at the amusement park or falafel stand.

L'hitraot, Israel!  I hope to bring some of you with me back to New York. 

Elie Wiesel and Me

I have a unique connection to Elie Wiesel, of blessed memory, who passed away this week.  

My parents named me Elimelech after my father's father.  (I also have a legal name, but it's top secret.)  They felt, however, that Elimelech is too long a name for a baby, so they decided to call me by the shorter nickname: Elie.  OK.  How do you spell it?  The more common spelling is Eli, but that's really a different name.  Others go in the Elli or Elly direction.  So they were left with the dilemma of how to spell my name.

While pregnant, my mother had been reading Elie Wiesel's "Night."  She figured what better spelling of my name than that of the great author and Jewish hero.

So I'm named after my grandfather, but Elie Wiesel gives me the spelling of my name.  I'm honored to have even this minor connection to such a great Jew and human being.

A lot has been - and will be - written and said about Elie Wiesel.  For me, the crux of his impact comes from his refusal to remain silent.  He spoke up about the need to remember the Shoah, to remind us about Soviet Jewry (his book "The Jews of Silence" is so powerful), to fight against evil and hatred, to support Israel, to demand morality and justice.  Elie Wiesel's outspokenness is a model for each of us to live up to when we encounter something wrong.

I felt this sentiment at Wednesday's rally in Jerusalem in support of Rabbi Lookstein and to demand better treatment for converts from the Diaspora.  (See my report of the event here.) The event was spearheaded by Ramaz alumni and the sentiment of the organizers and attendees was one of "We need to speak up."  

Speaking up and taking action have been at the core of the soul of the KJ/Ramaz community for decades.  Whatever the cause or issue, when action is required, our role is to say, "Hineni," here we are, ready to act.  

Another lesson I learn from Elie Wiesel is to embrace the complexity of life and Judaism.

Take the issue of God.  I often quote Elie Wiesel’s commenting on faith after the Holocaust, "One can be for God or against God, but it is impossible to be without God."

People have different views of God, but it’s a subject we must talk about.

This is classic Elie Wiesel.  Our existence is complicated.

We live in complicated times.  They're so complicated, I prefer not to count all the ways.  (Send me your suggestions!)  I am currently in Jerusalem participating in the Hartman Institute's Rabbinic  Leadership Initiative.   This week, I am studying with 200 rabbis from all over North America who run the gamut of denominations and religious backgrounds.  The word "complicated" is CONSTANTLY heard.  Rather than deter us, today's challenges should animate us to respond. 

Life is full of complexity.  Embrace it. 

We will miss Elie Wiesel's voice and his struggle.  The greatest way to honor his memory is for us to speak up and embrace it.

Yehi zichro baruch - May Elie Wiesel's memory inspire action that will lead to blessing.