Keeping Our Jewish Spark Alive

In the aftermath of the now famous Pew Report, our community leaders are in a tizzy trying to figure out how to re-energize the American Jewish community.  The report confirms many of our fears and some things we already knew about Jewish life here. There are less Jews marrying Jews. There are less Jewish children. There are less Jews who affiliate with our  community institutions. At the core, we seem to be a less inspired and engaged community than we used to be.

Yet, there are certainly bright spots as well. One such bright spot is the many young adults who have gone on Birthright Israel trips and have come back much more passionate about Israel and inspired about their Judaism.

We can and still do prosper here in America, and we Jews are certainly survivors. We have always managed to find new, innovative ways to overcome whatever challenges we must face. And there are still millions of American Jews who want to be Jewish and want their children to be raised with a strong Jewish identity. Many of them still come to our synagogues each and every week.

But one thing I know for sure is that it we should never give up on any Jewish soul, no matter how disconnected they may be, and it is never too late for someone to re-discover and reclaim their Judaism.

 “Testament of a Jew in Saragossa” is the title of the story in which Wiesel recounts an experience he had during his visit to Spain years ago. He went to a city called Saragossa. At one time, before 1942, of course, it was a thriving Jewish community, but there had not been a Jew there in 500 years until the new visits started happening.  

When Wiesel was at the cathedral in Saragossa, a man approached him and started speaking to him in French, offering to be his guide for no fee. He was proud of his town and wanted to show Wiesel around. They started talking and the man asked Wiesel some personal questions. Finally, it came out that he was Jewish and that he knew Hebrew. “There have been no Jews here for almost 500 years, I've been waiting to meet one so I could ask you for some help. There’s something I want to show you at my home.”

The two of them walked off to the small apartment on the third floor. The man took out a fragment of a yellowed parchment and he asked, “Is it in Hebrew?” Wiesel took this document, this yellowed document, and he started trembling as he started reading it, because it was clear to him that these were not only Hebrew letters, but also that they had existed for 500 years. He started to read and translate for the man. These are the words that he translated: “I, Moses, the son of Abraham, forced to break all ties with my people and my faith, leave these lines to the children of my children, in order that on the day when Israel will be able to walk again, its head high under the sun without fear and without remorse, they will know where their roots lie. Written at Saragossa, this 9th day of the month of Av, in the year of punishment and exile.”

This man then explained to Wiesel that this yellowed document was cherished by his family and was passed from one generation to the next. It was considered as an amulet – and that if you lost it or destroyed it, a curse would come to your family. So here this man had finally completed a circle that was 500 years in making. He found out, after five centuries, from a message of Moses, the son of Abraham, that he in some distant way was a Jew.  

“Read it again,” the man demanded of Wiesel. “I want to hear it again. I want to hear the words again.”  So Wiesel translated it over and over and over again." They went to the cathedral and they sat. The man said, “I want to know more. Who are these people, these Jews? What has happened? Why were there Jews in Saragossa 500 years ago but none today?”  

Wiesel began explaining. He took hours, in fact the whole day, to explain who we were, where we had been. He withheld nothing. He talked about Jewish history in Spain. He talked about Queen Isabella and Torquemada and how they had set up stakes, had hung and killed our people until they were decimated, how we were thrown out of Spain on the 9th of Av in 1492. The guide couldn't believe it.

Years later, Elie Wiesel traveled to Israel. He was accosted on the streets of Jerusalem by a man who said, “Hello, don’t you remember me? Saragossa. Saragossa.” There he was on the streets of Jerusalem, this same man, but he was speaking Hebrew, not French. He said to Wiesel, “I have something to show you.” He took Wiesel, who was trembling again, to his apartment. They walked up the three flights and there was that yellowed parchment in a picture frame on the wall. But this time he read it to Wiesel in Hebrew and he translated it. From Moses, the son of Abraham, 500 years, to him. He had come to Israel. He had learned Hebrew. He had learned who he was and he had redeemed his Jewish tradition.  

Wiesel said to him, “You know, I’m ashamed I didn't recognize you.” As Wiesel was about to leave, he said, “You forgot to ask me my name. I want you to know my name. My name is Moshe ben Avraham, Moses son of Abraham.  He is alive after 500 years.”

The lesson is clear.  If this man from Saragossa could reclaim the forgotten Jewish heritage that lay dormant in his family for so many generations, then we too can certainly do the same.  We have the capacity to reinvigorate our own Jewish lives, and in so doing re-energize our Jewish communities as well. All it take is a Jewish heart coupled with the spirit and desire to keep that Jewish spark alive.

L’Shalom,

Rabbi Mark Zimmerman

Next Year in Jerusalem

At the conclusion of our Yom Kippur services we will gather together, blow the shofar, and enthusiastically sing aloud: “L’Shanah HaBa’ah B’Yerushalayim”, hoping that perhaps next year we will be privileged to celebrate the holidays in Jerusalem.  This powerful moment (which also takes place at the end of our Passover Seder) underscores our connection to Israel, and the eternal capital of the Jewish people, Jerusalem.

Today we simply take for granted just how easy it is to realize that dream. You buy a plane ticket, pack your bags, and a few hours later -- you’re there! A trip that was unimaginably difficult just a few generations ago, today is no big deal to transform into reality. And not only is the trip itself fairly simple, but when you arrive, you can enjoy magnificent beaches, stay in deluxe 5 star hotels, explore impressive archaeology, and sip coffee in delightful outdoor cafes.

Those of us who have visited Israel understand this quite well.  But it’s amazing how many folks I still come across who equate a trip to Israel to taking a perilous journey through Taliban controlled Afghanistan while having your tallit and tefillin on.

A few days before our most recent trip to Israel this past summer, I paid a visit to my barber to get my regular haircut. When I told him that I was flying to Israel the next day, the color left his face and he exhorted me to be careful and come back safe. Apparently good customers like myself are just so difficult to find today!

But who can blame people for not knowing any better. With all the media hype anytime something bad happens in Israel, it’s only natural that people get the wrong impression. Virtually any Palestinian attack or ensuing Israeli response -- no matter how small -- makes it to the front page of all the newspapers; while truly horrific attacks elsewhere in the Middle East often escape notice altogether, or are deemed worthy of only a passing mention.

Ironically, many people overseas get a similarly distorted impression of life here in the United States, since world media often focuses on the bank robberies, tornadoes, or tragedies like Sandy Hook.

Nevertheless, Israel is not without profound challenges, even though you may never encounter anything alarming during a casual visit or on an organized group tour.  Israel still faces significant threats, both from external enemies who lust after her destruction, and from internal struggles which sometimes plague Israeli society from within. The internal threats can sometimes be the most challenging. But for the external threats, thankfully we have a strong and capable army; something that Jewish history hasn’t seen for quite some time. And had such an army existed during the holocaust, there would certainly be a great many more of us around today.

For the connected and engaged among us, love for Israel and concern for her well-being remain uppermost in our thoughts.  We roil at the propaganda issued by Israel’s enemies and relentless critics despite all the good that Israel has brought to every field of human endeavor.  And the continuing BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanctions) efforts to delegitimize Israel and isolate her from the rest of the world, leave us bewildered and outraged.

But what Hizbollah, Hamas, Syria and Iran fail to understand is that Israel is not about to simply go away and vanish.  Am Yisrael Chai, despite all the challenges and adversity, the Jewish people live, and will continue to do whatever it must to ensure Israel’s continued survival.  

In the Talmud, our Rabbis taught (Ta’anit 11a): “When Israel is in trouble and one of them separates himself from them, then the two ministering angels who accompany every man come and place their hands upon his head and say, ‘So-and-so who separated himself from the community shall not behold the consolation of the community’. Another Baraita [Tannaitic source from 200 C.E.] taught: When the community is in trouble let not a man say ‘I will go to my house and I will eat and drink and all will be well with me’…But rather one should share in the distress of the community.”

While teaching this text, Rabbi David Golinkin explained: “The message of this passage is clear: when Jews or the State of Israel are in trouble, other Jews must share in their distress by giving tzedakah, taking an active part in rallies and solidarity missions, etc. And while the cynical may say such efforts are a waste of time; they are not. They give encouragement to the Jews of Israel who are constantly criticized by the United Nations and many countries, and they strengthen the Jewish identity of the participants. This is at it should be. Jews must share in the distress of the community and our fellow Jews everywhere.”

Let us hope and pray that in the coming new year of 5774 peace will indeed arrive to Israel and the rest of this troubled world. May we all see that day bimhayrah biyamaynu – speedily in our day. Amen.

L’Shanah Tova,

Rabbi Mark Zimmerman

Jewish Experience? We all Make Our Own...

Recently, I came across an excellent piece in the Jewish Forward on how we are all ultimately responsible for creating our own Jewish experiences and community. 

ForwardBlog/jewish-experience-you-got-to-make-your-own/

The main point that Joanne Seiff makes is that what each of us do as individuals -- in our own Jewish communities -- is what ultimately determines the character of that community.

Truer words were never spoken.

As a rabbi, I am incredible fortunate to be serving a synagogue Congregation Beth Shalom - Atlanta, GA that really understands and lives that idea every day. We have learned as Seiff writes that: "Finding a Jewish community and home does not happen on occasional high holidays, or when you have emergency kaddish minyan needs."

We who serve the community have always known that real Jewish communal life is what occurs day in and day out, and from one Shabbat to the next.  It's how all of us -- not just rabbis or staff -- care for each other in times of distress, and how we celebrate with one another during our simchas.  It's how we make the community a priority in our own lives, and part of the regular rhythm of our existence.

Our shuls, and in fact our entire Jewish community, will only "feel like home" when we make the effort to fully engage and immerse ourselves in its structure and dealings.

As Seiff wrote: "Put long-term effort into it and maybe you’ll be amazed by the results."

The Crying Need for Jewish Unity and Religious Pluralism at the Kotel

Shortly we will celebrate the holiday of Shavuot which commemorates the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai. Our tradition teaches us that every Jew was in attendance for this magnificent, historic event -- including all who ever lived in the past, and all those yet to be born in the future.

The image is indeed a very touching one. We were all present at Sinai, and the entire Jewish people stood together as one.  The whole Jewish people standing together as agudah achat, one unified group has always conveyed a beautiful, inspirational lesson for us to emulate in every generation.

Yet sadly, that was not the scene at the Kotel this past Rosh Hodesh. Over five-hundred women came together to peacefully pray and read words of Torah together at a service organized every month by the group Neshot HaKotel, or Women of the Wall.  This time they had even more obstacles to overcome than usual.  

In a groundbreaking ruling, the Jerusalem District Court upheld an earlier decision that women who wear tallitot at the Kotel plaza are not contravening “local custom” or causing a public disturbance, and therefore should not be arrested -- as they had been in the past. The issue of equal prayer rights at the Kotel has become more prominent recently because of the frequent arrests of women participating in these special services held each month on Rosh Hodesh -- which has long traditionally been considered a special holiday for women in Judaism.

During the last Rosh Hodesh service at the Kotel, the scene was chaotic as a large police presence tried to keep the the protesters and women daveners separated.  Haredi (Ultra Orthodox) women had gathered in large numbers to fill the women's section in an attempt to prevent Women of the Wall from holding their monthly service.  Meanwhile Haredi men and children hurled stones and insults in the direction of these women, simply trying to gather in  prayer. Absolutely appalling.

I, like many of you have long supported Women of the Wall and their efforts on behalf of religious pluralism in Israel.  Yet when I expressed that support in the comments section of Jpost.com I was greeted with the typical barrage of delegitimizers, and those who deplore any expression of Judaism other than their own.

One such criticism is that these women are not committed to authentic Jewish practice. But let me say it clearly. WOW's actions are not at all contrary to halacha, (Jewish law) but haredim throwing rocks at people clearly is a grave sin in Judaism. There is no comparison. Halacha is dynamic, and there has never been only one authoritative interpretation of Jewish law.  Our Sages have taught us that there are shivim panim laTorah (seventy faces to the Torah) and many modern Jews who support WOW are also living according to Torah. So those who say WOW and their supporters don't accept the Torah are completely misguided. 

The Kotel belongs to all Jews; not just the haredim, not just the Orthodox, and not just Conservative or Reform either.  And while ethical and civil behavior should be expected of all Jews in all places – that is especially true in a sacred place such as the Kotel.

Others object saying that this is none of our business, it's a complicated issue, and that the sensitivities in Israel are different than they are here in America. I couldn't disagree more. This is not at all complicated.  I have davened at the Kotel many times over the years, and twenty years ago I could lead an egalitarian Kabbalat Shabbat service in the Kotel plaza without incident. But today there are haredi thugs who can't accept that anyone has a right to any interpretation of Judaism other than their own narrow definition of Judaism. 

The article on Jerusalem Post's website where my comments appeared was titled: "Western Wall rabbi: I am hurting and crying".  Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz told the Post: It wasn’t for this Kotel that we prayed. We don’t want a Kotel of disagreement."  

Well I certainly agree. The Kotel should indeed be for all of us, praying together in harmony, each in our own respective way. The Kotel belongs to all Jews, not just those who delegitimize us. We modern Jews who identify with more progressive streams of Judaism are tired of having our voices shouted down. And refusing to even acknowledge our observance of halacha is an insult that we should no longer tolerate.

So I encourage you all to add your support to these brave women who are liberating the Kotel for the entirety of the Jewish people.

L'Shalom,

Rabbi Mark Zimmerman
Congregation Beth Shalom

What Re-Living the Exodus Teaches Us

What Re-Living the Exodus Teaches Us

It’s a typical day. Things are going along just fine. Then something happens that dramatically changes everything and turns your world upside down. A child gets injured, a parent falls suddenly ill, or you have a car accident.  Suddenly, your whole life is put on hold.  The small things you thought were important are now completely irrelevant, as you now must struggle to attend to the pressing matters at hand.

Rabbis often get those kinds of phone calls from others who suddenly find themselves thrust into crisis mode.  Part of our seminary training trains us to remain calm and assume the role of – as one of my Pastoral Psych professors used to call it – the “un-anxious presence”.  Such a crisis requires us to remain strong, calm and empathic while helping others to cope with whatever the stressful challenge might be. 

But when an emergency strikes you personally, much of that training is to little avail.  I remember back when my son Avi and I were in a serious car accident.  It was quite horrible. For the man driving the car that hit us, the accident proved to be fatal.  But at the time of impact, all I knew was that I was injured, had difficulty breathing, and felt I was going into shock.  I struggled out of the vehicle to help free Avi from the car, but there was nothing I could do until help finally arrived. 

In a matter of moments I heard the wail of sirens. Help had indeed come, and thankfully, everything turned out alright. Broken bones healed and the trauma subsided.  But what made the whole dreadful experience bearable, was the familiar faces of friends who came to the hospital and comforted us during our time of need.  Before that day, I don’t think I truly appreciated how helpful it is when a friend or rabbi simply shows up and stays with you during a period of crisis – but since that day, I understood much better. 

We all experience rocky times in life.  But when a friend shows up to take our hand and help us through, that load is significantly lightened. 

In discussing the mitzvah of Bikur Cholim (visiting the sick), the Talmud teaches us that each visitor removes 1/60th of another's pain. This act of kindness is actually a commandment incumbent on each and every Jew, not just rabbis. And especially in our day, where texting is more common that making an actual phone call, that "human touch" can be indispensable.  So even making a phone call to let someone hear your voice can be a great comfort to those who are going through a difficult time.

In our Passover Haggadah, we read a passage which states: b’chol dor va’dor chayav adam lir’ot et atzmo k’ilu hu yatza mi-mitzrayim, in every generation a person is to see him/herself as if they personally left Egypt. While it is not possible to actually experience the pain and redemption of our ancestors, we are supposed to try and feel as if we ourselves experienced the bitterness of slavery, and took part in the Exodus.  This exercise helps us to better understand the enormity of those events. 

Likewise, when we try to empathize and comfort others in their time of need, we go a long way in helping to make the world a much more pleasant place.

Part of what makes our shul such a wonderful community (and every shul carries this potential) is not just how we come together to celebrate each other's simchas, but how we support one another in times of need as well. That is an important lesson that Passover teaches us, namely, that when we identify with the struggles of our past, we are better capable to face the challenges that lie ahead, and to create the kind of caring community that will make our lives worth living and even more rewarding.

On behalf of Linda and our family, we wish you all a meaningful Passover holiday, and a Hag Kasher V’Sameyach with wonderful friends and family.

Rabbi Mark Zimmerman