What if...

I'm currently reading a very well written book by Noah Hawley called The Good Father, about a father's journey to discover if his son killed the soon-to-be President of the United States and what his intentions are. Here are some thoughts that surfaced as I read, bringing home many Jewish values which I have discussed throughout the year.
 

What would you do if your son killed someone? You come home from work, turn on the television, and are faced with a terrible tragedy, one that opens the door to dismay and anger and shock. Minutes later, you discover that not only are you mourning the loss of this political figure, but that your son is behind the killings.

            How does one wrap his or her head around that knowledge? Knowing that one’s child killed another human being, even without premeditated thought is harrowing. It sends confusion and disgust from my gut. Yet at the same time, I know that I love fiercely. So what to do with that feeling sharply contrasted with the pain and desertion I felt.

            First of all, I have no children. So, honestly I don’t know. What I do know is that I am against killing, guns, violence. From my experience (not that I have much in my 23 years), killing people for a crime, or for any reason, is almost always illogical. The defense attempts a plea of insanity, claiming that the person was temporarily insane, or even permanently dealing with a mental illness. Yet, these people all have guns. Even someone suffering from a personality disorder has lucid moments where they function. Paranoid schizophrenia is the diagnosis for many people having killed political heros. They carry this label as a protection, as a badge, a way to explain why they would do such a thing. But truly, it seems like an excuse (this coming from someone who supports proper mental illness diagnosis and treatment).

            However examples of murder, flat out killing another, stem from the bible. We see Cain bring Abel to the field and killed him. The verse, Genesis 4:8, makes it unclear as to whether or not Cain killed his brother with pre-meditation. One interpretation is that Cain spoke to his brother. And some time later, they were in a field and Cain happened to rise up against Abel and kill him. Another interpretation is that Cain spoke to Abel and told him to come to the field, where Cain killed Abel. This particular version of the story settles the guilt squarely on Cain’s shoulders, showing him as someone wanting to kill his brother.

            God punishes Cain, although he first simply inquires as to where the boy’s twin has disappeared. Cain quips that he is not his brother’s keeper, giving Judaism the famous ideas of necessity to care for our brother and help keep them. I digress. The punishment Cain receives is one of becoming a wanderer and fugitive, not welcomed anywhere from that point forward. Yet nowhere do we hear of Adam or Eve’s sadness or disappointment or frustration over either the death of their son Abel or their son Cain’s murderous tendencies. Instead, all we hear is that Eve bore another son, naming this one Seth. The name does have some undertones of sadness, of reminiscence, as appointed by God, or a replacement from God. The name comes form the Hebrew root shin, yud, bet, meaning to apply, point or place. God has placed this new son in the presence of Adam and Eve to help them heal from the death of their son. Yet this is the ONLY mention in this verse of Adam and Eve having any emotional reaction to what occurred with both of their sons. Even more interesting, the next chapter does not even mention Cain and Abel. Rather, it goes from the creation of male and female, to Adam having a son, Seth. Interestingly enough, the killing of one’s brother does not warrant being discussed or depicted more than once!

            It would seem God is showing the Jewish people an example, one to consider for parents of children who have killed another human being (although I am not sure I would ascribe to this same logic had it been my son found holding a smoking gun). God demonstrates that one who kills another does not receive a place in the story, does not deserve to prosper and continue. Killing is wrong, a sin. Although the Ten Commandments had not yet been transmitted, we receive the sixth Commandment, do not murder. The actions of killing are not to be permitted, are to be punished.

            Yet what does the parent do, when their child is the one who commits the killing? Is it a parent’s responsibility to stand up for his or her child, or do they also need to condemn the individual for killing? Should a parent stand behind his or her child, unwavering in support? Personally, I do not know what I would do, faced with a child who had killed another. I don’t believe in guns and do not want them near me. I am a proponent of giving back to the earth, not taking from it. I am someone who champions the underdog, always giving my love to as many individuals as I can. My hope is that I will never need to face a situation where a child of mine intentionally or even unintentionally acts against all in which I believe. But faced with that circumstance, would I condemn my own flesh and blood? Would I be able to look him or her in the eye? Frankly, I do not know. What I do know is that I hope never to be faced with that dilemma!

Why I am in Rabbinical school #5

You know you're in Rabbinical school when you get incredibly excited about finding books for your final paper in the library, because you end up with five instead of 2...

Books can come in all shapes and sizes

It turns out I am a nerd. Now, this is not a new fact by any stretch of the imagination, but I need to put it out there for the entire world to be privy to. In addition, this is not a bad fact or characteristic to demonstrate. Rather, it allows me to fully take advantage of the life I am currently living, because (surprise, surprise) I am in Rabbinical school where it is practically required to be truly enjoy school and relish learning. Fortunately for me, I am reminded of this fact often enough that the amount of class I am forced to slug through on a daily basis, and then the homework I stare at blankly for hours afterwards, become less daunting and more of a small hindrance.

But, back to the topic at hand: learning! I ventured into the library to procure a book or two in order to write my final paper for Israel Seminar. Having chosen a topic of Mt Herzl, collective space, and Yad Vashem (surprising, I know, to find that I chose to write about the Holocaust, or at least death, in any case), I looked to two different places in the library and came across a veritable plethora of treasures. Almost all of the books were on Israeli Judaism and/or civil religion in Israel. In and of itself, a fascinating topic; I could have remained among the old spines for hours, whispering with them and determining their not so ancient secrets of this secretive people (Israelis).

Not only was my adventure within the narrow alleyways of the library part of my mental stimulation, but my lunch partners previous to this were just as engaging. Andrew and Justin had spent the morning visiting Mea Shearim, Ben Yehudah, and Machene Yehudah; peeking into bookstores and chachky stores alike, looking to see what secrets these opposing universes held. While one was full of black and white, a disparate neighborhood just waiting for a welfare board to come in, the other is packed full of food and shops, the hustle and bustle here one of productivity and prosperity. Oddly enough, having been in Mea Shearim yesterday, the comparison seems rather hollow. Both places are alight with productivity, seemingly like bees abuzz. Both are crowded with bodies, moving every which way, noises ricocheting off the construction, store counter and cars alike. But the backbone of the places is inherently different. One is based on religion, on commandedness. The other, on culture and social society.

Regardless, Andrew and Justin were leaving a venture into both worlds, one after the other. We met up for lunch at Mandarin, to enjoy yet another culture experience, that of Chinese. Over egg drop soup (for me) and vegetable Lo Mein (for them), we discussed Hebrew as a language, philosophy of religion, the future of the Reform movement (as well as all the movements), and again touched on monogamous versus 'accepting' relationships, and where the biblical basis for this comes.

Piggy backing on the discussion we began last night, on whether or not it is permissible to be in a relationship with one person, but then have extra-marital sexual relations with another, if it is previously agreed up, we continued discussing. Although I am not one for multi-partner monogamous relationships, both gentlemen made a decent argument. I disagreed, but a fragment of my being can see their point and appreciate where they are coming from. However, I then remember that the entire conversation began talking about arranged marriages in the Orthodox world and the whole conversation changes. Therefore, I suggest, if you are not part of that Orthodox world, that it is worthwhile to find a partner with whom you agree and can be satisfied without the necessity of an outside, third party interloper.

Market day on the side of the road in Ethiopia

Regardless of where this conversation began, we ended up talking late into the night last night, almost like I was back in college, at least what it would have been like if I wasn't in bed by 11:30 most nights...Anyway, we discussed adventuring the world and communicating with people, showing them who you are and learning about how to read people, how to understand the pain and suffering seen in the world, or at least steps to take in order to alleviate that pain [read: Elana talked about her time in Ethiopia and the pain and suffering she saw and began to work to combat]. We discussed the horrors that I saw there, the open wounds and the pain and desolation. The scent at the Mission, where I went for almost two weeks straight and often spent time with the children, making up games and languages, has stuck with me to this day. However, I met a man who showed me that the impossible is never that. There is always a way to do more, to make changes. That man, Dr. Rick Hodes, was the first one who really demonstrated to me that I need to persevere in this world if I truly want to make changes. I have always kept that teaching and those lessons in mind, even as I struggle to do a daily task.

Dr Rick Hodes, with his son Mesfin, in Addas Ababa

In the midst of that conversation, we all three realized that the work each of us want to do will change the world for the better. We are working to become positive role models for the coming generations, each in our own way (Rabbi (Elana), clean energy engineer (Justin), educator (Andrew)), but we all knew from an early age that we wanted to make a change in the world. As I told the two guys last night. You can teach someone what they need to know. You cannot teach compassion. Nor can you teach passion. Passion is something that burns within. And that is the motivating factor that ultimately underlies the work each of us will do to change the world.

Majestic moments in the midbar mountains

Majestic mountains complete with calming breeze and warmth

We’ve just returned from a four-day trip to recharge our batteries from the stresses and frustrations of school. Midterms were over and it was time for a well-deserved break. And break it was: we hiked, snorkeled, sang, prayed and talked. What an adventure.

            Just getting out in nature, not on my bike, and feeling the majesty of nature around me reminded me of why I love life. Standing at the top of Har Shlomo, gazing out at Egypt, Israel, Jordan and even Saudi Arabia at almost the same time was an incomparable experience. I recognized my insignificance in the place while at the same time seeing that I gain incredible power from being in that place. I will not bring about world peace, nor will I solve the problem of world hunger. I will however be able to harness the beauty I found in this place and bring it back to Jerusalem to help those around me.

Extra vertical

Taish's adventure's with my camera, on the way up

            I felt so calm, being up there, in shorts and a t-shirt, sweaty and gross, stinking as if I hadn’t showered in days. And that was just the first hour. We all sat there and marveled as the sun beat down on us and our own abilities dawned. We truly experienced the power of a strong united force, helping each other to conquer a rather steep climb. (I even got to do a little side – well, vertical – climb!)

            The way down was much longer. We slowly made our way across the Eilat mountains, grasping the hand rails for dear life and carefully placing our feet below us. As the entire thing was downhill, my knee ached, but I ignored the pain for the most part. Besides, what good did it do me to dwell on it when I needed to concentrate on NOT FALLING OFF THE SIDE OF A MOUNTAIN!

The way seems tough, but with patience, is feasible

            Throughout the hike, I was right behind Taish, our guide. By the way, he was incredible, humorous and all in all pleasant to be with. He even told us bad jokes (What is brown and sticky? Etc). But he was wonderful for Hebrew practice and aid. And a great source of amusement when it came to his English (we taught him the difference between be cautious and use caution) and the fact that our Hebrew was way worse than his English!

            However, the most important thing I realized was a need to exercise patience. No matter where we were on the mountain, I was in the front. In order to not lag behind, I often stay in front on hikes and found that this was no exception. At one point, Taish inquired as to where my off switch was. He simply was wondering if I knew how to slow down, and I of course told him no. Although that is not quite true (I do need to sleep every once in a while), I recognized the importance of sometimes slowing down and watching the world around, or taking the time to actually take in the sights.

            Fortunately, the Mincha service that Ben and Benj planned was much along that same vein. They didn’t use prayer books. Instead, we sang the words that have been imprinted upon our minds and hearts in the past few months and years. We joined as one voice, hearing our voices echoing throughout the canyon. The best part by far was the Amidah, where we found our own personal spaces to communicate with God, personally deceiphering the message we wanted to transmit. I found a space on top of a rock, looking out into the valley, and simply thanked God for the ability to be there, to appreciate my body and my abilities.

            The next day dawned early, bringing with it sore bones and a nasty head cold. However, physical sickness has never truly hindered me. So, I went out again, this time to Kibbutz Lotan. That is a place where I definitely want to spend more time, learning about Eco-living and farming/gardening in a place that is both in and not in Israel, depending on the person being asked and the time (shmita year or not-the year when the fields of Israel need to be left bare).

            From there we drove down to Eilat, through the city and past many plants and piers. We ended up at a Coral reserve, where we had two hours to enjoy the beach, sand, warmth, water, coral, and fish. Enjoy, I did! I immediately changed into my bathing suit and took my snorkel over the bridge to get into the water past the reef. The pier was placed there to protect the reefs, so people enter the water past the reef and will not accidentally trod on the delicate animals. I was awe-struck by how beautiful the reef was. Although not St John (in terms of warmth, beauty of the water, and sand), it out-shown it by a long shot. This was a straight reef, following the shoreline and full to bursting of fish! I saw eel, clown fish, giant Rainbow fish and more. I’m pretty sure a puffer fish showed itself at one point!

            I was in heaven. I swam around in the water, away from the protected reef site, and hung out above a reef for a while, relishing the feeling of being in the water and experiencing another eco-system at work. What an incredible experience. When I eventually tired of swimming and feeling my joints locking up from cold, I swam in and simply enjoyed the sand and warmth for a while.

            Back at Kibbutz Yahel, we prepared for Shabbat and together walked over to the Beit K’nesset. Danny and Sam led me in one of the best Kabbalat Shabbat services I have EVER had, full of music, joy and warmth. The feeling of calm and peace that engulfed me was enough to last even to the moment, as I type these words back in Jerusalem. The two of them were enjoying themselves, and their excitement was strong in the air. Sara and Chase followed them with an equally lovely Ma’ariv, which led nicely into our walk back for dinner.

            Once the dishes from dinner were cleared (replete with Danny’s chastisement of another table “If you aren’t clearing, you’re doing the wrong thing” as a throwback to camp table-clearing), we pushed all the tables together and joined in a rousing rendition of Birkat Hamazon. Never in my life have I heard it sung with more gusto! Following that, we all continued to sing, doing all those songs we love most from camp and with passion! The sense of community I felt overwhelmed me and I was glad to be with such an amazing group of people.

            A few people weren’t completely satisfied with the amount of singing, so we took our sidduring outside the Moadon (“club”, but really hangout space) and continued to sing for another two hours or so. We were all smiling and laughing by the end. Shabbat with a group of people is such a joyful experience and I wouldn’t trade that opportunity for the world!

            The next morning continued the beauty, as we ventured into the desert for Shachrit. Shana and Max led an incredible service and truly amazed me with the pop-culture they used to tie the service together. At one point, when we weren’t sure if we were going to have a Haftorah reader, we took turns saying a bracha of something we were greatful for, to which we all replied with a shouted AMEN! The reverberation of our voices in the mountain was incredible.

            My d’var Torah was tweeked slightly by our location. Instead of starting in front of everyone as I initially intended, I went up on a rock behind them. Simon was lying down and I simply used him as a prop, having God (me) tell Jacob (Simon) that he and his ancestors would be as numerous as the dust on the earth. It was a beautiful way to start a d’var and allowed me to get into the moment and truly enjoy.

           This tiyul brought many surprise, including a new friend. Michael and I started talking on the road back in the machtesh, discussing the army and his service in it, and just kept talking through the weekend. I realized that I enjoyed talking to him. It was so odd, to realize I had spent almost five months with someone, yet knew very little about him or her. Although we interacted on a basically daily basis, we never got past the basics. Finally, we broke through that and got to know one another. Not only that, but I gained a friend. I'm most amazed by the small details of a change of scenery that can significantly change  perspective. I gained the older brother I’ve always wanted and just had a blast. He said he had to give in to me like a younger sister, but that I was pretty okay as they went. Seeing as I’ve always wanted an older brother (besides Noah, who is my OTHER honorary older brother), I’ll take it.

The Har Shlomo group, connected and happy after the hike!

            Lucy said it best. It was wonderful to truly reconnect with our classmates and realize how well we all get along. We are all incredible people and at this point in the year, we were finally willing and ready to open up to each other. We all met and interacted with new people on this trip and I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to make new friends and enhance my relationships with these people who will be my future colleagues.

            Although I sit at my kitchen table with a congested head and little energy, I am filled with joy, strength and passion, and cannot wait to see what that renewed sense of purpose will bring to the future. Thank you to everyone who made this experience happen. It was well worth it. And, we even got to return to Jerusalem with a cease-fire in place!!!

Thought #1

Why I am a Reform Jew, Thought #1

I re-remembered why I love Reform Judaism. I get to choose what I want in my service. Music, especially guitar, can be a large part of that experience. Not only that, but the music and singing that we do doesn't necessarily need to be in Hebrew. Although some might say that detracts from the overall prayer experience, it enriches my practice and brings passion and serenity to my worship.

Besides, in this fashion, I get to not only experience prayer each day, but I get to re-imagine or examine that prayer practice and see what it adds to my overall prayer. If something doesn't resonate with me, I don't need to include it next time. If it does, it stays! In this way, I can grow my experience into something that truly becomes me and describes both who I am and how I connect to the world. Prayer is an impressive and powerful entity and tool!

Today during T'fillah we used this song. Check out the power of the music!

Clarification: someone pointed out to me that song and prayer are not always the same thing. With that, I agree. They also suggested that song can often take away from the prayerful experience, to which I also agree. In considering their opinion, I realized that my own is not far from that. However, I also recognize that each person is unique and what one might find meaningful, another may find dull or impeding. Song has certainly taken from as opposed to adding more to my worship. In this instance, I found song to be a powerful addition to my prayer and linked me in a special way to the reforms of traditional Judaism begun in Germany by the likes of Zacharias Frankel and Abraham Geiger.

Judgement day

 

Reading Vidui, or the confession part of the service, I was struck by the words in the Machzor, the prayer book. The following is the poem that emerged from that:

Each year we repent

Ask forgiveness, apologizing, lamenting, beseeching—

The potential we are bestowed with, that inwardly we possess, we did not fulfill.

The אחריות, responsibility, to our fellow man is still incombent upon us

And yet, we’ve reached this day

The most holy day, שבת שבתון, the day of judgement.

Here we stand,

Before you—

            Incomplete

            Unwhole

            Unsure.

But here.

We are indeed present,

accepting you,

            struggling with the past

looking with open heart to the new year.

Hear our prayer;

Accept our prayer

Listen.

We are ready.

This year, we will try to do better.

This year, we will not stand idly by our neighbor.

This year we will deal honestly.

This year, we will act in love justly.

I have done wrong, an entire alphabet of woes,

But so too have I done right.

Help me, guide me, encourage me, O God.

Today I stand before you in judgement

Prepared for repentence

Prepared for understanding,

Knowing I have failed.

But in that, I know I can do better.

I WILL do better

On this Yom Kippur day

I pledge to do better—

            on myself

            to my friend

            my neighbor

            my community

            to my world

סלח לנו, מחל לנו, כפר לנו.

Forgive us, pardon us, grant us atonement.

Amen.