Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – November, 2012

I have been observant of traditional Sabbath practices (shomer Shabbat) for about 26 years, and my Shabbat practice has become so second nature to me that I sometimes forget the extent to which it is out of step with the way most people live their lives. However, I didn’t grow up strictly Sabbath observant. It’s something that I began to explore as a teen at Camp Ramah and in my home synagogue, and began to adopt seriously during my year studying at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. It was not until I came home after that year that I made the commitment to incorporate the restrictions of a traditional Jewish Shabbat observance a consistent part of my life.

It was not only an adjustment to me, but to my family and friends as well. When I stopped using the telephone on Shabbat, my family was worried about how they would contact me in case of emergency. I assured them that if I was home, I would listen to the answering machine, and if it was an emergency I would pick up. One of my friends began leaving 5-10 minute messages on Shabbat afternoon and calling me 10 minutes before the end of Shabbat, which I suspect was a passive-aggressive way of dealing with his unhappiness at my evolution into “Religious Jew.” Slowly, though, friends and family adjusted.

It was not a terrible adjustment for Congregation Ahavas Israel when I arrived in Grand Rapids.  Most of the previous rabbis, including my predecessor, also had a fairly traditional Shabbat practice. However, it is worthwhile periodically discussing how my Shabbat and Holiday practice affects my functioning and availability as a rabbi, and how to contact me in case of emergency, such as death or serious illness.

The answering machine that I had when I first arrived in Grand Rapids has gone the way of the dinosaur. Voicemail has some advantages, but I have not figured out a way to screen calls on Shabbat and pick them up of they are urgent. In the case of death or serious illnesses,if you need to reach me on Shabbat or holidays, there are a couple of options:  You can call my Google Voice number (616-929-0459) and leave me a message which I will get immediately after Shabbat or the Festival ends. Alternatively, you can stop by my home or ask someone else to come to my home to notify me. I will discuss funeral arrangements to the extent that I am able, given that it is Shabbat and I will not have access to my calendar. If it would be helpful, I could walk to the hospital (Blodgett or Butterworth only).

Despite the occasional hardships of not using electronics on Shabbat, I find it to be tremendously liberating. I sleep better and have sharper concentration. If you would like a detailed discussion on the use of electronic devices on Shabbat, you can find a very well written paper by my colleague Rabbi Danny Nevins on this page, under the category of Shabbat: http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/jewish-law/committee-jewish-law-and-standards/orah-hayyim

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – Summer, 2012

The Fast Days of Summer

Fasts of mourning are not the most popular of fasts, especially in the middle of the summer. The sun is warm and bright, and the last thing that we want to do is mourn the loss of an ancient Temple, the destruction of Jerusalem, and the subsequent exile.  There is a reason, however, why Judaism has such elaborate rituals for death and morning … funeral customs, shiva, and Yahrtzeit.  Judaism believes that we are not disconnected beings creating and living our lives on our own.  Rather, we are intimately connected with and dependent on those who preceded us.  We inherited a world and a religious tradition from the hundreds and thousands of generations of humanity that came before us.  After our brief time on earth, it is our responsibility to pass along that heritage to those who will follow.  The rituals of death and mourning create the memory link between us and our past, and give us a framework in which to transmit the stories of our past to the next generation.

Tisha B’Av, the ninth of the Hebrew month of Av, is the anniversary of the day upon which both the first and second Temples in Jerusalem were destroyed, and Jews were expelled from England in 1290 and Spain in 1492.  It is one of two major fast days on the Jewish calendar (the other being Yom Kippur).  Aside from fasting  and refraining from wearing leather and from engaging in intimate relations, it is observed by reading the book of Aicha, Lamentations, traditionally ascribed to the Prophet Jeremiah, who lived through the Babylonian exile after the first Temple was destroyed.

Three weeks prior to Tisha b’Av, on the 17th of Tammuz, Shiva Asar b’Tammuz, the walls of Jerusalem were breached. Shiva Asar bTammuz is observed as a minor fast day (sunrise to sundown) on Sunday, July 8.  These three weeks are observed as days of semi-mourning, in which weddings and other joyous celebrations should not take place.  During the first nine days of Av, one should not eat meat or drink wine (except on Shabbat), or cut one’s hair.  Three special Haftarot are chanted, known as the Haftarot of destruction.  The Haftarah the week prior to Tisha b’Av is chanted using the trope of Aicha (Lamentations). The three weeks lead us into the emotional low of the consideration of exile and the destructive nature of anti-semitism, prejudice, racism, and all forms of hatred.  Following Tisha b’Av, a series of 7 Haftarot known as the Haftarot of consolation take us back up to the emotional high of Rosh Hashanah, 7 weeks later.

Tisha B’Av will be observed on Saturday night, July 28, and Sunday, July 29.  Services will be held at the synagogue beginning at 10:00 p.m. on July 28 and 9:30 a.m. July 29.

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – March, 2012

Purim is the quintessential children’s holiday, right?  It’s the Jewish version of Halloween, when we dress up in costumes and and make lots of noise during the synagogue service and get treats, right? No wonder that Purim in many synagogues is attended primarily by families with grade school age children.  As the children age out of the years when they look cute dressed like Esther, a Disney princess, Haman, or the season’s hot villain or superhero (Darth Vader, Spiderman, or Superman), they stop coming.  The parents, who are only coming because their children look so darn cute in their costumes, also stop coming.

Purim is in fact not a children’s holiday, but an adult holiday. Not along the lines of a recent article in the Jerusalem Post, which reported on an Israeli retailer trying to shake things up by selling adult oriented Purim costumes. Don’t all nurses wear fishnet stockings?  Shouldn’t every cat costume come with a bondage mask and whip?  Wouldn’t a police officer costume be incomplete without a latex bodice?  And for the ultimate in bizarre religious syncretism, how about dressing as a sexy Santa for Purim?

Like all sophisticated Jewish experiences, Purim is an adult holiday that makes room for children. The story of Purim, a provocative piece of literature, raises questions about the lengths we should go to fight evil, the limits of taking revenge, and the extent to which we should hide our Jewish identity in the public sphere.  The book of Esther can be read as a revenge fantasy or a fantasy of what we would do if only we had the power to shape the world in our favor.

The news coming out of Persia these days is awfully dark. It’s not hard to find articles coming out of Iran baldly stating the desirability of a world without Jews and giving legal and moral justification for taking steps to annihilate Israel.  Just in case the lesson of the 20th century has begun to fade, Purim is a reminder that Haman is not a relic of some dark day in history, but rather a living threat in our world today.

A strong religious practice does not hide us from the reality of the world, but neither does it constantly beat us over the head with it. The function and purpose of Purim is to give us momentary relief from hatred and violence, to allow us to experience a moment of pure joy unadulterated by evil and suffering. This is something, I would argue, that adults need much more than children.  I hope you will join your Ahavas Israel family on Wednesday evening, March 7, for our Purim celebration.

 

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – February/2012 – Tu Bishvat

Tu Bishvat is a multi faceted holiday, actually quite complex. It is correctly considered a minor holiday, but like many such days, it has accumulated layers of meaning over the centuries. Religious Schools and the Jewish National Fund and Ecological Organizations have not done Tu Bishvat a favor by narrowing the focus to planting trees, recycling, and singing about planting trees (“maybe apple, maybe apricot”), thus obscuring the rich and deep meaning.

Tu Bishvat is first mentioned in the first century Mishnah.  The first Mishnah in the Tractate of Rosh Hashanah begins, “There are four New Year’s Days.”  The 15th of Shevat, or Tu Bishvat (Tu = tet-vav, tet = 9, and vav = 6), is designated as the New Year for the planting of trees.  Leviticus 19:23 prohibits eating the fruit from trees for the first three years after they are planted.  Tu Bishvat was designated as a somewhat arbitrary “birthday” for trees, so any tree growing before that time would automatically become 1 year old on that day.  This was important for calculating ma’aser, tithes. The day was chosen for a very practical reason, because in Israel, at least, it falls past the midpoint of the winter, just before the time that the fruit trees would begin blooming.

In the 16th century, Jews following a mystical tradition invested Tu Bishvat with additional meaning, and began to celebrate a Seder on that day drinking four cups of wine and eating different kinds of foods from the land of Israel, celebrating both the land of Israel and our desire for redemption and peace in the world.  They focused on three different kinds of fruits – those with inedible skins, those with inedible pits, and those that are eaten whole.  Each represents a different level of God’s creative energy in the world.  The Seder also focuses on the Tree of Life, a representation of 10 mystical emanations of God.

In the late 19th and early 20th century, as the Jewish National Fund was born, the Zionist movement was focused on rebuilding the land of Israel.  Tu Bishvat became a time to plant trees.  Planting eucalyptus trees was a way to absorb water and drain the swamps which were a major source of malaria carrying mosquitos.  Many of us remember the JNF blue boxes, and collecting money to fund the forests of pine trees planted around Israel.  In the late 20th and early 21st century, it has been recognized that some of the early efforts to drain swamps and plant non-native trees have damaged the ecology of Israel.  Thus, the focus of Tu Bishvat has added an aspect of examining the impact that we have on the natural world, and trying to live more in harmony with God’s creation.

Tu Bishvat this year is celebrated on Wednesday, February 8.  The Beit Sefer B’yahad/United Jewish School will hold a Tu Bishvat Seder for the students that afternoon.

Divre Harav/Words from the Rabbi – January/2012 – Sacred Time

The month of Tevet, falling in late December – early January, contains the fast day of the 10th of Tevet (this year, Thursday, January 5) commemorating the start of the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar II of Babylonia and culminated in the destruction of the Temple.  In 1951, the Israeli chief rabbinate decided to turn this day into a memorial day for Shoah victims whose date of death is unknown.  Despite this, in 1954 the Israeli Keneset passed a law creating a Holocaust Memorial day on the 27th of Nisan, a day approximately midway between the anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising and the celebration of Israel Independence Day. Nevertheless, the 10th of Tevet remains the official Yahrtzeit day for victims of the Shoah whose actual Yahrtzeit is unknown.

Sometimes, Jews complain that Judaism has too many holidays.  I sympathize.  However, I think the human being has an psychological need to mark and celebrate time. Freethinkers have a calendar of events that often include seasonal celebrations, such as winter solstice parties, as well as regular gatherings. I sometimes wonder whether the over-commercialization of Christmas is related to the relative paucity of sacred days of the Christian calendar.  If our calendar doesn’t give us enough of a variety of days to celebrate, then we will take the celebrations that we have and expand them.

Sacred days are event magnets.  Rarely does a holiday commemorate only one event.  Most Jewish holidays, like the 10th of Tevet, have multiple associations.  The Biblical festivals, which began as Harvest festivals, accumulated additional layers of meaning.  the 9th of Av, the day on which both Temples were destroyed, is also the day on which Jews were exiled from Spain in 1492 as well as other national calamities and exiles.

As Americans, we live our lives by the rhythm of the secular calendar.  The day of the week often determines when we will wake up, where we will go, and what we will do.  We know what the next holiday is because that gives us a break from our routine to look forward to.

To live a dedicated Jewish life, we live our lives by the rhythms of the Jewish calendar. We are aware of the number of days until Shabbat, and that determines when we wake up, where we go, and who we see.  If we know the day of the month, then we also know the phase of the moon and approximately how many days until the next holiday, which not only breaks our routine but also most likely will require some preparation to celebrate properly.

The Jewish calendar ought not be something to resent (or worse, to ignore).  Rather than seeing it as an intrusion on our lives, we might see it as an opportunity to examine a different dimension of our lives.  In the short, cold days of winter, isn’t it nice to have Tu Bishvat (February 8), Purim (March 8), and even Pesah (April 7) to look forward to?