What
do we mean when we say that
we are gathering together
with Jews worldwide to usher
in this new year of 5766?
We all felt connected to
the global Jewish community
this summer watching the
withdrawal from Gaza on
television. When in Rome
this summer, two events
occurred that brought home
the collision of history
with today’s reality:
visiting the arch of Titus
that depicts the sacking
of Jerusalem, and then watching
on live television coverage
of Jews evacuating Gaza.
While there was a sense
of pride, there was also
a sense of horror. The pride
that Titus had not ultimately
won, and today we have an
autonomous Jewish state;
pride at the sacrifice of
land for the hope of peace;
pride that the world was
watching as the army of
the Jewish state carried
out this mission unarmed
with dignity and integrity,
often with tears streaming
down their faces.
And at the same time I was
horrified, horrified that
so long ago a people would
celebrate the destruction
of our people’s sacred
site, and horrified seeing
my children watching the
settlers refusing to leave
their homes, hurling epithets
at the soldiers referencing
the Holocaust, yelling "Jews
do not displace fellow Jews,"
pouring acid from synagogue
rooftops onto IDF soldiers.
This globally projectd image
of Jews still makes us all
cringe.
A fellow reform rabbi who
made aliyah and
works at the Hartman Institute,
a multi-movement think tank,
told me that her colleagues
and close friends--Orthodox
rabbis, many of whom had
family being evacuated--could
not speak to her during
this time. She was hurt
and yet she understood,
seeing families leave their
homes, exhuming entire graveyards--the
graves of their parents
and victims of suicide bombing
attacks--knowing that the
graveyards would be desecrated
is painful and traumatic.
The reality on the streets
of Israel reflects the moral
ambiguity of the complicated
clash of emotions that is
a daily existence in the
Jewish homeland. We too
face the burden of our peoples'
ambiguity in Minneapolis.
I went on a retreat with
my downtown colleagues,
the ministers and the imam
whom I have grown to respect
professionally and have
deep friendships with personally.
But the conflicts in Israel
are a subject that have
long created a silence among
these same trusting colleagues.
How do we communicate this
complicated set of circumstances
that we never witness in
one dimension on the news?
How do we explain our deep
connection to this place
half way around the world
that they to glibly see
as a political entity of
oppressed Palestinians?
Last Yom Kippur
we sat with Reverend Tim
Hart Anderson from Westminster
Presbyterian Church hoping
to convince him to stop
the Presbyterian General
Assembly from divesting
from American companies
that invest in Israel and
whose products are used
by Israel in the Palestinian
conflict. But they are proceeding
with that resolution, unfortunately
inspiring other Christian
denominations to follow
in their footsteps.
Throughout Italy, I saw
churches and taught my children
the value of how Jews must
appreciate the beauty of
our Christian friends’
sanctuaries. Coming back,
I faced our area’s
leading Christian ministers
with a commitment to cross
a threshold the Jewish community
has dared not tread: this
year’s interfaith
forum is centered on the
holiness of land and pilgrimage.
During the forums we will
discuss Israel, a risky
conversation. We, as American
Reform Jews, have often
decided to stay out of the
conversation about Israel
with our neighbors and our
colleagues--it is just too
complicated. In all honesty,
we haven’t had a serious
conversation about Israel
among ourselves. ARZA, the
Association of Reform Zionists
of America, receives minimal
support from our congregation
and, since the second intifada,
we have cancelled two congregational
trips to Israel.
Tonight I begin what I want
to become a congregational
process, a process of study
about Israel, open dialogue,
and a reaffirmation of our
commitment to the Jewish
state. I believe that this
conversation at Temple Israel
is uniquely different than
in other venues. I welcome
those of you who have been
in dialogue with other organizations,
such as the JCRC, AIPAC,
Federation, or The New Israel
Fund, to send me your comments
and remarks. But because
we are a religious institution
our conversation must strive
toward a spiritual level.
Where do we begin?
We must confess that, as
Reform Jews, we have abdicated
our role in creating the
religious language of modern
Zionism. We've abdicated
that to the settlement movement,
who we all refer
to as Religious Zionists.
We have more comfortably
turned to the spirit of
the pioneer movemen--the
secular Zionists whose vision
and dreams created the state
of Israel, but whose paradigm
falls short next to our
religious mission. It is
time to create a new understanding
of our relationship, as
American Reform Jews, to
the modern state of Israel.
We can take the best from
both the Religious Zionist
movement and the secular
Zionist vision to create
a model that is both progressive
and religious.
There are those who believe
we have no right as American
Jews to impose our beliefs
or standards upon Israel.
That as American citizens
we can only place pressure
on the American Government.
I do not hold to this position.
I believe Jews internationally
are affected by what happens
within Israel. Theodore
Herzl’s seminal work,
DerJudenstaat,
has often been mistranslated
to mean the Jewish state.
More aptly, it is understood
to mean the state of the
Jews. For Herzl, as for
all of us today, the Jewish
state is not only an Israel
experiment, it is the ultimate
Jewish experiment.
It was the prophetic vision
of the secular Zionists
like Herzl that energized
young European men and women
to climb out of their bedroom
windows to journey to a
dream call Zion. “If
you will it, it is no dream.”
The original Zionists who
heard the call of Herzl
left their religiously repressive
countries for a future of
freedom and to actualize
a nation for their people.
It is important to acknowledge
that these young Zionists
did not make the stark distinction
between religion and nationality
that we do today.
Fifty-seven years later
we are confronted with a
different reality. Security
is the number one priority;
total attention is cast
to Israel’s borders
because of terrorism, the
Palestinian/ Israeli conflict
and the tenuous relationship
with Israel’s neighbors
in the Arab world. Even
as daily threats of death
face citizens, the internal
civil rights issues are
an increasing concern for
Israelis. The divide between
the haves and the have nots
grows wider and wider everyday--who
would have ever guessed
that Herzl’s dream
included poverty? This was
not the ideal of the early
pioneers who were the creators
of the Moshov and Kibbutz
movements.
There continues to be a
public scandal that the
only place where Jews are
not legally allowed to live
with their own pluralism
is the State of Israel.
The government of Israel
pays, through state taxes,
the salaries of 3300 orthodox
rabbis, while no public
funds pay for progressive
rabbis’ salaries or
Reform congregations. Many
American Jews are surprised
when they learn that Reform
and Conservative rabbis
are not allowed to officiate
at weddings, funerals or
conversions within Israel.
A Reform rabbi in the city
of Haifa was not allowed
to participate in a city-wide
funeral for victims of a
suicide bombing attack who
were members of his congregation.
A recent poll among Israelis
shows that most young Sabras
want to identify as Israeli
rather than Jew, meaning
that they are tired of the
abuse of Judaism.
This reflects an obvious
vacuum left by secular Zionists
when they chose to ignore
the controversial issue
of religion in the Jewish
state. As a result, the
power was handed to the
Orthodox movement to define
religious life in Israel
as well as defining religious
Zionism. The settler movement
has transformed its religious
counterparts through one
important strategy: they
popularized the notion that
they are able to accelerate
the coming of the Messiah
in order to bring about
the true Israel. They have
hijacked the religious Zionism
of Rav Kook and the religious
Jews who immigrated to Israel
before and after the Shoah.
Tirelessly, the settlers
work at bringing about a
greater Israel; they are
relentless in their activities
to define Israel according
to the biblical borders.
The movement’s motives
are religious and its members’
experiences are expressed
in religious terms. So the
horror of the settlers chaining
themselves inside the synagogue
we witnessed at the Gaza
pullout should not surprise
us.
Why do we cringe
when we have no language
to discuss these scenes?
We have to admit that we
do not in fact share a common
language to discuss our
commitment to Israel. As
Reform Jews, when do we
talk about making Aliyah?
Some of us question why
we should feel anything
towards Israel. Despite
the settlers' heartbreaking
tactics, we can learn a
great deal from them. Their
strategy can teach us how
a single message can bring
an unwavering commitment.
Everyone is on point, every
man, woman and child proclaim
Zionism as Redemption, and
they are clear and concise
about their part in bringing
about that redemption. A
setback never defeats them.
To the contrary, it fuels
an even stronger commitment.
The Orthodox movement in
general shows more commitment
to Israel than any other
movement. American Orthodox
families send more of their
children to Israel, travel
to Israel multiple times
in a year, fly only on El
Al and the evidence is right
there. They also give more
money to religious Zionist
organizations, very impressive
for a movement that was
anti-Zionist in 1948. The
American Reform Movement
cannot compare to this commitment
even though we are the largest
Jewish organization in the
world, even larger than
Chabad. It has
been said that we have the
wood but not the fire for
Israel.
How are we to kindle the
spark of our passion for
the state of the Jewish
people as American Reform
Jews in order to reclaim
the title of religious Zionists?
As Jews committed to both
the absolute value of the
Jewish State and modernity,
we will not claim the rigid,
dangerous passion of Messianic
orthodoxy or a socialist
pioneer vision.
First, we need religious
language and a religious
mission stated clearly and
concisely. At the same time,
we must stay in reality,
on the ground to both pray
and roll up our sleeves
to do the work that needs
to be done. We want an Israel
that lives out the pioneer
ideals of taking care of
its citizens, providing
a safe haven for Jews everywhere.
We believe in protecting
Israeli citizens as a priority,
but we must now share in
the burden of the risks
of Gaza. Shame on us if
we just sit back to see
them fail. Avraham Burg,
a leading voice of conscience
in Israel, recently spoke
these words in public and
local pan-Arab TV ads: “In
the last four years, the
winner in the Middle East
has been despair…..I
don’t want you to
think Judaism is checkpoints
and settlements or the wall
and occupation, just as
Islam is not terrorism.
I respect the pain. I assume
responsibility.” None
of us who neither send our
children to the army at
18 nor face the daily fear
of terrorism can say anything
less than that. We respect
the pain, and we too must
assume the responsibility
of peace.
We should be proud of the
progressive movement in
Israel. The Israel Religious
Action Center is the progressive
movement's watchdog for
equitable treatment and
helps take care of Israeli
citizens who live in poverty,
whether they are Jews, Christians
or Muslims. Our sister congregations
in Israel look to us for
support. It is amazing to
hear in Mevoseret Tzion
or in Modiin Debbie Friedman’s
meshebarach. We
are all part of the same
movement.
A Zionism that is both progressive
and religious should work
toward an Israel that upholds
a humanitarian ideal without
endangering the twofold
purpose for which it was
created as a refuge for
the Jews and as the stage
were the Jewish religious
culture and heritage is
able to flourish in a way
it cannot in the Diaspora;
a place where Jewish pluralism
thrives.
As it says in Perkei
Avot, “The day
is short and the task is
long….” My commitment
to you, as to myself, is
not to force the serious
value of religious language
into a sermon on the eve
of Rosh Hashanah,
but to offer you the time
to study and discuss with
me the beauty of Judaism’s
value of life and the vision
of Zion.
Join me, Rabbi Glaser and
my family this summer in
June on a pilgrimage to
Israel. There is nothing
like walking the streets
of Jerusalem, Haifa and
Tel Aviv to rekindle your
connection to Israel. We
have an obligation to go.
Come to the interfaith forums
this year as we discuss
Israel with our Christian
and Muslim neighbors. We
need the Jewish voice to
be strong. Participate as
member of ARZA in the World
Zionist Congress elections,
you will be receiving a
direct mail piece from Temple--open
it and vote.
Pray for the state of the
Jewish people--I am asking
that we include a prayer
for Israel every time we
gather for worship and so
we can send our prayers
forth. Tonight we turn to
our machzor for
that prayer, and in the
days ahead I invite you
to create your own prayers
that we can say collectively,
prayers that express our
progressive and religious
voices.