National Scholar Updates

Thoughts on Anti-Semitism

The ancient and so-far uncured disease of “anti-Semitism” is reflected in Megillat Esther.  Haman tells the king: “There is a certain people scattered abroad and dispersed among the peoples in all the provinces of your kingdom; and their laws are diverse from those of every people; neither keep they the king’s laws; therefore it profits not the king to let them be.” (Esther 3:8). Haman’s description of the situation is insidious and hateful. It slanders the Jewish people who, although they follow their own religious laws, also are law-abiding people who follow the king’s laws.

The disease of anti-Semitism has persisted through the generations and continues today, with all its false accusations, paranoia and dangerous consequences. How are we to cope with this deep-seated irrationalism? How are we to explain this to our children and grandchildren?

                                                                     *   *   *

Each generation of Jewish parents and grandparents seems to face the same dilemma. We teach our children and grandchildren that all humans are created in the image of God; that we should respect and assist others; that love of God necessarily entails love of God’s creations.

Yet, these right and proper teachings are challenged by the realities which our children and grandchildren witness with their own eyes. They see thousands of missiles shot at Israel by Hamas terrorists with the aim of killing as many Jews as possible. They see throngs of Palestinians cheering as missiles are launched to murder Jews. They hear the rantings of the President of Iran who calls for the annihilation of Israel. They read of anti-Semitic diatribes and attacks by anti-Semites throughout the world. They see the large number of countries at the United Nations who consistently vote against Israel, who consistently side with those who would destroy Israel. They know of the so-called humanitarian groups and journalists who seem to find fault only with Israel, but rarely, if ever, with the vicious enemies of Israel. 

We Jewish parents and grandparents constantly teach our young generations about love of God, love of humanity, the sanctity of human life. Yet, there are so many millions of fellow human beings who are saturated with hatred, who engage in murderous activities against us. And there are so many millions of others who are complicit with the evils of anti-Semitism by their neutrality or silence.

How can we teach of love in a world filled with hatred? How can we teach that all humans are created in the image of God, when so many humans are actively trying to murder us? How can we preach the goodness of humankind, when so much of humankind is engaged in violence? 

For thousands of years, our people have weathered the storms of persecution. In spite of the senseless hatred and violence perpetrated against us in so many lands, the Jewish people are still here to tell our story.  Our enemies always disappear; we always survive. That is an iron law of history. And that bothers the anti-Semites greatly.

Why do anti-Semites give us such a hard time? Why do people who do not even know us express hatred and malevolence toward us? Why do Israel’s enemies persist in demonizing the Jewish State, rather than  finding a way to co-exist peacefully and happily?

 

Jews represent an infinitesimal fraction of the world’s population. Yet, so much negative energy is directed against us! I suppose we should feel complimented to receive so much attention!

Our enemies are astounded and troubled by the fact that such a tiny Jewish people has been able to accomplish so much. We gave the world Moses, King David, Isaiah and Queen Esther. Our Bible is venerated by Christianity and Islam and has been a major influence for human civilization. Our sages have produced an unmatched legacy of literature dedicated to righteousness, ethics and law. For thousands of years, our communities have striven to maintain the highest ideals of our tradition.

Jews have distinguished themselves for service to humanity far out of proportion to our numbers. Our enemies resent our persistent commitment to excellence: generations of Jewish doctors and teachers, social workers and scientists, artists and philanthropists, business people and diplomats. They resent the incredibly high proportion of Jewish Nobel Prize winners and other world-class intellectuals and writers.

Some hate us because they see in us a highly educated, highly idealistic, highly charitable group. In contrast to their much larger groups, we are an annoying paradigm. The enemies of Israel do not understand how a tiny Jewish State has become a world leader in science and technology, agriculture and industry. How can such a small State, constantly embattled and boycotted by much of the Arab world, be so amazingly successful in so many ways? How is it that only Israel of all countries in the Middle East has been able to maintain a vibrant and dynamic democracy, a society that gives so much freedom to all its citizens?

Our enemies solve their dilemma by denying or belittling Jewish virtues, or by blaming us for preventing their own advancement. When they cannot come to grips with their own shortcomings, they look for a scapegoat: and we are a convenient target since we are so small and yet so visible. If anything, their anti-Semitism is a blatant admission of their own failings and weaknesses. Those who devote themselves to hatred thereby undermine their own humanity.

The Jewish people are persistent in believing in the ultimate goodness of humanity. In spite of all our enemies and all their hatred, we remain eternally optimistic. We believe that reason and benevolence will prevail. We work to make society better and to alleviate suffering. We believe that even wicked human beings can be redeemed through love and compassion. We can point to many millions of people who think kindly and warmly toward Jews and toward the Jewish State. The good people far outnumber the anti-Semites.

When we come under fire from anti-Semites, we call on our collective historic memory to give us strength. We have survived the millennia due to the incredible courage and fortitude of our forebears. We are the children of the prophets who taught justice, righteousness and love to the world. Our teachings are right: the world simply hasn’t absorbed them as yet.

How can we teach of love in a world filled with hatred? How can we teach that all humans are created in the image of God, when so many humans are actively trying to murder us? How can we preach the goodness of humankind, when so much of humankind is engaged in violence? 

 

We teach these things because they are true, and because they are the ideas and ideals that can best bring fulfillment to humanity. In spite of so much hatred and evil in the world, the Jews teach love and righteousness.

The day will come when hatred and bigotry will disappear from humanity. In the meanwhile, we must stay strong, courageous and faithful to our tradition. And to our collective Jewish memory.

 

 

Coping with the Current Covid 19 Situation

 

Get some FRESH AIR.

At least twice a day or as much as you can -even while in quarantine. Even just sitting next to an open window and breathing deeply with eyes closed can be a virtual break from sitting around inside.

Get some SUN.

Again, as much as you can- especially if you are in quarantine. Exposure to direct sunlight helps your body make Vitamin D.

Find a sunny spot in your house/apartment/yard and soak up some rays for 15-30 minutes (unless, of course, it's cloudy).

WRITE something.

Encourage your grandchildren to put thoughts down in words. Inventive spelling is wonderful for the younger children. For yourselves, you can start keeping a diary or journal. Transform your thoughts and feelings into a poem. Write a letter to someone you love - an actual letter, on paper, that you put in an envelope with a stamp - grandchildren especially love to receive those. 

MOVE your body.

Get some physical activity. Stretch and exercise along with a YouTube video. Try the 7-minute workout. Just get the body in motion. Our Director of Athletics, Coach Dejon, has been posting awesome exercise activities on our instagram account and MDS MiBayit.

LAUGH a lot and often.

Laugh and play as much as you can… laughter is the best medicine. Game nights, movie nights, joke books, and looking through family photos and videos can lighten things up and take off some of the pressure.

DISCONNECT from your devices.

This one is tricky when we have to be on our devices for much of the day to attend to the news and stay connected with friends, etc. If you are with your grandchildren, try and carve out some time for unplugging for them. During un-screened time, encourage your grandchildren to read a real book, draw, play cards or board games, dress up, imaginary play, do a puzzle.

Go on an "INFORMATION DIET."

We are encouraging everyone to take breaks from the media…. and stick to reliable, less emotional sources for your news. Turning off the computer and TV and disconnecting can give you and your family some distance and help you put things into perspective and frame the conversation for your children and grandchildren. 

TALK to someone.

It is 100% normal, natural and predictable for people to feel really uncomfortable in this situation. It is very hard to live our lives with a heightened level of worry and uncertainty with which we are currently living. Can talking to someone about your angst and worries change the things that are making you feel that way? Probably not. Can talking to someone change the way you feel about those things? Probably. Believe it or not, talking about your feelings, saying them out loud to another person who listens to you and validates how you feel, actually makes those feelings easier to bear.  

Sending you lots of positive energy and motivation! We can do this!!!

Best,

Ariella Azaraf, School Social Worker and Michal Agus Fox, School Psychologist

Darkness that Leads to Enlightenment: Thoughts for Parashat Bo

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Bo

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

Rabbi Yitzhak Shemuel Reggio, a 19th century Italian Torah commentator, offers an interesting insight concerning the plague of darkness. The Torah states that Egyptians spent three days in deep darkness while “all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.”

Rabbi Reggio opines that the plague of darkness did not befall the land of Egypt—but rather the eyes of the Egyptians. Egypt itself was full of light; but while the Israelites continued to enjoy that light, the eyes of the Egyptians were blanketed in darkness. If an Egyptian stood right next to an Israelite, the Egyptian would be unable to see--but the Israelite would see clearly.

Rabbi Reggio notes that after the plague of darkness, the Torah reports that “the man Moses was very great in the land of Egypt, in the eyes of Pharaoh’s servants and in the eyes of the people.” It seems that the Egyptians did not recognize the greatness of Moses until after they had experienced darkness. This plague somehow caused a transformation within them. They started to see things differently, more clearly. It took darkness to make them see the light!

For many years, the Egyptians did not think twice about their enslavement of the Israelites. This was a “normal” fact of life, not to be questioned. They did not see that anything was morally wrong with the status quo. They had grown so accustomed to their pattern of thinking, that they did not question the validity of their assumptions and their lifestyle.
When they were plunged into absolute darkness, they began to realize how wrong they had been. They came to understand that their assumptions and patterns of behavior were immoral. When they “saw the light”, they then recognized the greatness of Moses. He was, after all, telling the truth! He—not Pharaoh—was the agent of truth.

The transformation within the minds of the Egyptians may also be evidenced by the Torah’s later statement that the children of Israel found favor in the eyes of the Egyptians, so that the Egyptians gave them presents. The Egyptians no longer saw the Israelites as slaves, as objects to be exploited; rather, they saw the Israelites as fellow human beings who had been cruelly mistreated. Egyptians felt empathy toward the Israelites, whom they had previously treated so callously and viciously. They wanted to give them presents, to demonstrate human solidarity.

Rabbi Reggio’s insight might be extended to relate to human life in general. People live with assumptions, values, and patterns of behavior typical of their societies. They do not necessarily self-reflect: are these assumptions true? Are these values moral? Are these patterns of behavior ethical? It is highly difficult to rise above one’s milieu and judge one’s reality in a dispassionate, honest manner.

Professor Daniel Kahneman, the Israeli Nobel Prize winner in Economics, has coined the phrase “illusion of validity.” He points out that we tend to think that our own opinions and intuitions are correct. We tend to overlook hard data that contradict our worldview and to dismiss arguments that don’t coincide with our own conception of things. We operate under the illusion that our ideas, insights, intuitions are valid; we don’t let facts or opposing views get in our way.

The illusion of validity leads to innumerable errors, to wrong judgments, to unnecessary confrontations. If we could be more open and honest, self-reflective, willing to entertain new ideas and to correct erroneous assumptions—we would find ourselves in a better, happier and more humane world.

The ancient Egyptians had the illusion of validity, believing that their murderous, slavery-ridden society was fine. They did not question their lifestyle, opinions or worldview. It took the plague of darkness to make them think more carefully about the nature of their society—and the nature of their own humanity. Once they “saw the light”, they were able to make positive adjustments. Although Pharaoh and his army continued to foster the pre-darkness views, the people as a whole seem to have re-oriented their way of thinking and acting.

The plague of darkness might symbolize the need for each of us to periodically clear our minds, re-evaluate our assumptions, and see where we might have fallen victim to the illusion of validity. In the darkness and quiet of our inner selves, we can try to shed light on our opinions, values, attitudes and behaviors. We can try to rise above ourselves, as honestly and objectively as we can.

An old proverb has it that “no one is so blind as the one who refuses to see.” We might offer an addendum to this proverb: “no one sees so clearly as the one who has first experienced darkness.”

New Book Review by Rabbi Hayyim Angel: Bible and Archaeology

Our National Scholar, Rabbi Hayyim Angel, published a new Book Review in Tradition (the journal of the Rabbinical Council of America) discussing the interface between religious Bible study and archaeology.

Koren Publishers has embarked on an impressive new project, a popular companion to the Torah presenting contemporary research on archaeology, Egyptology, flora and fauna, geology, the languages and realia of the ancient Near East, and other areas that elucidate aspects of the biblical text. It is presented in a similar engaging manner to the Hebrew series, Olam HaTanakh, and like that Hebrew work was composed by a team of scholars who specialize in a variety of fields of scholarship. There are brief articles and glossy photographs, maps, and illustrations that bring these areas to light. Living up to the standard that the community has come to expect from Koren publications, the volume is an impressive work of graphic design, with a high aesthetic sense. Unlike Olam HaTanakh, which also offers a running commentary on biblical books, The Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel discusses specifically those background areas that may enhance our understanding of the text within its real-world setting.

This series is written from an Orthodox perspective. Its authors believe that God revealed the Torah to Moses, and they utilize contemporary scholarship as a tool for understanding God’s word. The articles generally are presented judiciously, rather than reaching conclusions that exceed the biblical and archaeological evidence. The volume does not purport to be original scholarship, but rather synthesizes contemporary academic scholarship in an accessible and Orthodox-friendly manner.

Here are a few brief examples of how the authors highlight elements of the background of the narrative and laws...

To read the complete review, please go to 

https://traditiononline.org/11255-2/ 

New: Article about the Institute in the Jewish Link

https://www.jewishlinknj.com/features/35850-good-scholarship-to-promote-jewish-unity-the-institute-for-jewish-ideas-and-ideals

We are pleased to announce that an article about the Institute appeared in the Jewish Link of Bergen County, New Jersey (January 24, 2020 edition). We are working to spread our reach to an ever-broadening audience, as we continue to develop programs and written materials to promote our ideology. Please share this article with your friends so that together we may spread the word about our unique and vital mission in the Jewish community.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

 

 

Studying Talmud in English Translation; Preserving Yiddish (Judeo-Spanish etc.); Owning Dogs--Rabbi Marc Angel Replies to Questions from the Jewish Press

Should a person feel guilty for using an English ArtScroll Gemara (as opposed to struggling with the original Aramaic)?

 

 

The Talmud (Shabbat 31a) cites the opinion of Rava about what we will be asked when we eventually come before the heavenly court. One of the questions is: kavata itim leTorah, did you set aside fixed times to study Torah. Regular study of Torah is expected of us, and we will have to answer for ourselves in due course.

 

Torah study can be in any language one understands. The important thing is to understand what we read and to connect our study to service of Hashem. Over the centuries, Jews have studied Torah in many languages—Hebrew, Aramaic, Greek, Arabic, Spanish, German,Yiddish etc.  I hope and assume that none of those Jews ever felt guilty for studying in the vernacular they understood.

 

When one studies Talmud today, it’s fine to use editions that provide translations and explanations in the vernacular. The goal is to understand what we read. It is hoped, though, that one will eventually become proficient enough to study the original text on its own.

 

No one should ever feel guilty for studying Torah in the vernacular. Guilt should only be felt if we fail to set aside times for Torah study each day. The heavenly court has its question ready for us: let us be sure to have our answer ready.

 

 

Should we try to preserve Yiddish as a living language in America or Israel?

Over the centuries, Jews developed languages such as Yiddish, Judeo-Spanish, Judeo-Arabic etc. These languages reflected Jewish societies that were largely cut off from the larger societies around them. Jews spoke their own languages, ran their own schools, published their own books and newspapers.

For most Jews today, the sociological reasons for maintaining a distinctive Jewish language no longer apply. Jews speak the language of the land as their mother tongue. Sociological realities relentlessly undermine the need for a distinctive “Jewish” language.

Yiddish remains a living language among Chassidim and others who seek to insulate their group from the “outside” society. For them, the language is alive and well.

I grew up among Sephardim of Judeo-Spanish background. My grandparents’ generation spoke Judeo-Spanish as their mother tongue. My parents spoke the language fluently to their parents and elders…but spoke to us in English. We understood our elders when they spoke Judeo-Spanish…but our mother tongue is English. My generation is the last to hear Judeo-Spanish as a vibrant, living language.

There are efforts to maintain vestiges of the language and tradition…prayers, folksongs, proverbs etc. But it is highly unlikely that it will ever again be spoken as a mother-tongue. Instead of lamenting this fact, we should be striving to derive lasting lessons from Judeo-Spanish civilization. The same is true for Yiddish outside Chassidic circles.  Instead of lamenting the decline, let us draw on the treasures of Yiddish culture to enhance and enrich the Jewishness of ours and future generations.

I wrote a memoir about growing up in the Sephardic community of Seattle, and how the Americanization process has impacted on us: A New World: An American Sephardic Memoir . It can be ordered on this link: https://www.jewishideas.org/new-world-american-sephardic-memoir-rabbi-marc-angel

 

Is it appropriate for a Jew to own a (non-violent) pet dog?

 

The Shulhan Arukh (Hoshen Mishpat 409:3) rules that it is forbidden to raise a “kelev ra”-- a bad, ferocious dog—unless it is chained down. The Rama notes that it is permissible to raise tame dogs and that in fact this was a fairly common practice.

Since it is halakhically permitted to own a non-violent dog, each individual can decide whether or not to have a pet dog. No one else has the right to pass judgment on whether it is or is not appropriate for a Jew to own a pet dog.

Dog owners should realize, though, that some people are afraid of dogs, others are allergic to dog hair, and yet others are simply uncomfortable in the presence of dogs…even tame dogs. Owners should be sensitive to the needs and feelings of those who visit their homes or who are met while walking their dogs. Even good dogs can seem to be “bad” in the eyes of those who have an aversion to dogs.

If Jews want to own non-violent pet dogs, they are welcome to do so. If they want to own guard dogs, they need to be sure that these dogs are kept under proper control so that they do not harm innocent victims. Dog owners should be highly sensitive to the concerns of others who are not “dog lovers” and who may be frightened or displeased to have a pet dog bark at them, jump on them, or lick their hands.

The Turkish author, Orhan Pamuk, observed: “Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen.”

 

 

 

Our Place, Our Wishes: Thoughts for Parashat Vayikra

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Vayikra

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

In his short story, “The Intelligence Office,” Nathaniel Hawthorne describes a group of people who make requests from an intelligence officer. Some are seeking worldly things, and others are seeking truths of one kind or another.

One of the clients states that he wants a place. The officer explains that there are many vacant or soon to be vacant places, but he needs more information from the petitioner as to what he is looking for. 

The client responds:  “I want my place! My own place! My true place in the world! My proper sphere! My thing to do, which nature intended me to perform when she fashioned me thus awry, and which I have vainly sought all my lifetime!” The intelligence officer could not satisfy his wishes and the man left dejected.

One after the other, clients expressed their wishes and goals, and one after the other their requests were logged in the record book. But no help was offered. Each person ultimately had to solve his/her own problem.

The record book of the Intelligence Office would be an amazing reflection of the needs and wishes of human beings. Hawthorne writes:  “Human character in its individual developments—human nature in the mass—may best be studied in its wishes.”

What do we wish for?  Good health (physical, spiritual, emotional), good family, friends, happiness, love, wholeness, self-worth, usefulness, a feeling that our lives mean something…that we each have our own unique and valued place in the world.

We are not only what we seem to be; we also are what we aspire to become, what we wish for. Ideally, we have worthy aspirations; ideally, we conduct our lives so as we can best reach toward those aspirations.

In this week’s Torah portion, we begin the book of Vayikra…and we read about many forms of sacrifices that took place in the Mishkan of the ancient Israelites as they wandered in the wilderness. Obviously, their primary wish at that time would have been to enter the Promised Land and get settled there. This was a practical and sensible wish.

But the Torah emphasizes the necessity of spiritual aspirations. It describes the offerings as a way of reminding the Israelites of the primacy of their relationship with God.  In order to have a proper physical place, it is vital to have a spiritual place. It is imperative to have aspirations that transcend time and space, that reach toward the Being of all beings.

One of the Hebrew terms for God is “haMakom,” which means the Place. The Bereishith Rabba (68:9) indicates that haMakom connotes that “God is the place of the world, and His world is not His place.”  This phrase seems to mean: God encompasses the entire universe but is not limited to it. In Ezekiel’s vision, the angels bless God’s glory “miMekomo,” from His place.  His place is far beyond us…i.e. in Heaven.

The Temple sacrifices of old were a way for the Israelites to internalize a personal relationship with God. They learned to think beyond their immediate physical needs and wishes, and to place their lives in a spiritual, transcendent context.

Since the destruction of our ancient Temples in Jerusalem, our spiritual “place” has been found in our synagogues, study halls, in our homes and hearts. Our prayers— the classic liturgy of the siddur as well as our own private devotions—are a means of our finding our own place in the world. Our prayers—our wishes and aspirations—obviously relate to our physical needs. But for us truly to find our own “place” in the scheme of things, our prayers must bring us into relationship with the ultimate Place.

To paraphrase Nathaniel Hawthorne, our character as individuals may best be studied in our wishes, in our prayers and aspirations.

 

An American Sephardic Memoir

A New World: An American Sephardic Memoir

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

(These are excerpts from Rabbi Angel’s book, A New World: An American Sephardic Memoir, Albion Andalus Books, Boulder, 2019.   The book is available through the online store of jewishideas.org.)

 

            Transitions.

Things stay the same, but not really. Things change, but not totally.

            My grandparents were among the 30,000 or so Sephardic Jews who came to the United States during the early 20th century. They were born and raised in Turkey and the Island of Rhodes. They had little formal education, little money, but a lot of courage.

            They brought the “old country” with them to the new world. Their language was Judeo-Spanish. Their culture was the traditional Sephardic Judaism of Ottoman Jewry. They settled in Seattle, Washington, and were part of a vibrant Sephardic enclave with large extended families.

            My grandparents were of the “old world” and they sought to transmit their ideals and values to their children. Their children were of the “new world.” Life in America was very different from the tradition-centered life of the Jews in Turkey and Rhodes. The children’s generation respected their parents; but this new American generation was restless. They wanted to adapt fully to American life. How much of the “old world” could they carry with them? How much of it had to be left behind?

            By my generation (I was born in 1945), the Americanization process was well advanced. We loved and admired our grandparents and their generation; but we were full-blooded Americans, many of us with American-born parents. The “old world” was remote, somewhat exotic. It didn’t define who we were.

            Our children and grandchildren are further removed from the “old country.” Most have never heard a conversation in Judeo-Spanish. Most have not had personal contact with members of my grandparents’ generation.

            The Americanization of our family over the past hundred years has brought many changes. We are far better educated than the immigrant generation. We are generally more affluent, more “successful,” and more integrated into American society. We have shared in the American dream.

            But we have also incurred losses in the generational transitions. Life is not static. Things change. Circumstances change. People change.  Whereas most of our family once lived within the same neighborhood in Seattle, now we are spread out all over the country. Whereas most of our family once felt a strong sense of belonging to the Sephardic Jewish tradition, now we are much more diverse in our religious and cultural patterns of life.

            While we can’t go back to the “old days” and the “old country” way of life, we can draw meaningful lessons for ourselves and our next generations. In assembling the memoirs for this book, I have chosen people and events that have left a lasting impression on me…and that I think can leave a lasting impression on many others. This book is one man’s record of an era which is rapidly coming to a close. I acknowledge that memoirs are subjective; each person experiences life through his or her own eyes and each remembers things differently.

 

 

            My mother used to say that we could learn almost everything we need to know about human nature from our own extended family. Some relatives were wise, some foolish; some were successful, some failures; some optimistic, some morose; some pious, some rebellious.  Our family included intellectuals and people of very limited intelligence. We had courageous and outspoken individuals, and we had timid, quiet types. Some had phenomenal senses of humor, and some would hardly ever laugh. In the family, one could experience love, hatred, selflessness, jealousy, greed, generosity, spirituality, materialism, seriousness, humor.

            The family included people of great mind and heart, people who were handsome and beautiful, people of striking personality. It also included, without embarrassment, people who were quite ordinary, as well as individuals who had various physical, emotional and mental disabilities.

            My grandfather Angel had a shoeshine stand. My grandfather Romey was a barber. My father was a grocer. Among my uncles were a butcher, fish salesman, rabbi, printer, storekeeper, bartender, college professor, and assorted unskilled laborers. Various relatives were real estate speculators, never-do-wells, while others were employees of Boeing.  In the days of my childhood, most of the women of our family did not work outside the home.

            By the next generation, the extended family came to include rabbis, teachers, attorneys, insurance and real estate agents, a political scientist, skilled employees in various companies, a merchant marine, salespeople, athletes, a nurse, and several authors of books.

            My mother saw the family as something of a microcosm of humanity in general and society in particular. We could understand the world around us if we could understand ourselves.

            In those days, the family was large, diverse and whole. We mostly lived in the same neighborhood; we got together often; we recognized a strong vital sense of kinship among ourselves.

            One of the focal points of my childhood was the home of my maternal grandparents at 214 15th Avenue in Seattle, Washington. Even now, so many years after their deaths, I often find myself reminiscing about that house, remembering so many details about it. It has stood as a symbol in my mind of our family together. It calls to mind a simpler time, a time when life seemed whole and connected.

 

*****

My grandparents and their generation have passed away.

My parents and all their siblings have passed away.

My generation is getting on in years. Some of my cousins have died or are in declining health. Some still live in Seattle, but some live in Portland, Los Angeles, Sioux Falls, New York, Jerusalem…and other places. Some are religiously traditional, and some have moved far from Jewish religious observance.

Our children and grandchildren live in a world much removed from the “old neighborhood” in Seattle where I was born and raised. They have little contact with the children and grandchildren of the cousins of my generation. They have hardly heard (or never heard) Judeo-Spanish as a living language. They have no first hand memories of the lives of the pioneer Sephardic immigrants who came to America in the early 20th century.

Peter Berger, an eminent scholar of modern American civilization, has noted that moderns suffer from a deepening condition of spiritual “homelessness.” The old anchors and moorings have not held.

The old days are gone forever. Looking back can be pleasant; but it cannot create a new framework for society. It is not enough to have a “home” in the past. We need to be at home in the present and to create homes for our children and grandchildren.

The “old country of Seattle” cannot be put back together. It is gone, never to return. But values can live on; attitudes can be transmitted; ideas can transcend time and space. Moderns need not be spiritually homeless if they can create a society based on love, trust, shared values and ideals. Our sense of being at home will come from inner strength, from our immediate family and friends, from our communal structures. For our future generations to feel that life is whole, meaningful and secure, we will need to create frameworks where they feel “at home,” comfortable with themselves, comfortable with the world in which they live.

Our grandparents and parents and their generations left us a powerful legacy of memories, values and ideals. As we draw strength and wisdom from their lives, we face the present and the future with increasing confidence. We can’t go home again, but neither can we ever really leave home.

 

           

           

 

Voices of Peace, Voices of Understanding

 

When bombs are exploding and tanks are rolling, it is difficult to imagine peace. When children are taught to hate and suicide/homicide murderers are called "freedom fighters", it is difficult to imagine peace. When all sides list their grievances and do not listen to the grievances of others, it is difficult to imagine peace.

 

But if we do not try to imagine peace, peace will not come. So let us imagine, in spite of all the "facts on the ground", that peace must be achieved. What voices can guide us? What words can be a salve to our wounds? How can we put the dream of peace into real terms?

In 1919, Rabbi Benzion Uziel, then a young rabbi, spoke to a conference of rabbis in Jerusalem. He stated: "Israel, the nation of peace, does not want and never will want to be built on the ruins of others....Let all the nations hear our blessing of peace, and let them return to us a hand for true peace, so that they may be blessed with the blessing of peace." In 1939, when Rabbi Uziel became Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, he delivered his inaugural address in Hebrew, and then added words in Arabic. He appealed to the Arab community: "We reach our hands out to you in peace, pure and trustworthy....Make peace with us and we will make peace with you. Together all of us will benefit from the blessing of God on His land; with quiet and peace, with love and fellowship, with goodwill and pure heart we will find the way of peace."

The words of Rabbi Uziel reflected the wishes of the tiny Jewish community in the land of Israel in those times. His words still reflect the wishes of the Jewish community of Israel today. Hawks and doves alike would like nothing better than genuine, secure peace. They would like Israeli society to be free and happy, without the specter of warfare and terrorism, without the constant threat and reality of Arab military, economic and political attacks. They would like to live in harmony with their Arab neighbors-and to trust that their Arab neighbors will want to live in harmony with them.

But the words of Rabbi Uziel need to be stated and restated by the leaders of Israel. The idea of reaching a mutually rewarding peace must be put into words, must be repeated, must be believed and taught. Will words create peace? Not immediately. But they will set the foundations of peace. The words will help transform the dream of peace into a framework for peace.

In 1919, at the Paris peace conference following World War I, the Emir Feisal, one of the great Arab leaders of the time, made the following comments about the Jewish desire to return to their ancient homeland in Israel: "We Arabs...look with the deepest sympathy on the Zionist movement....We will wish the Jews a most hearty welcome home....I look forward, and my people with me look forward, to a future in which we will help you and you will help us, so that the countries in which we are mutually interested may once again take their places in the community of civilized peoples of the world."

I do not know if any Arab leaders today can say these words with sincerity. Yet, if Arab leaders-especially Palestinian leaders-could find the strength to say these words, the dream of peace might be brought closer to reality. Israel wants most what the Arab world has for the most part not given: a sign of acceptance, a sign of welcome, a sign that Jews have a right to live in peace and tranquility in the land of Israel. The people of Israel need to hear what Emir Feisal said: welcome home; we will help you and you will help us. Together we will raise our peoples to great cultural and economic heights.

We need to hear these words. The people of Israel and the Arab nations need to hear these words. If we are to imagine peace, we must articulate the words that can point us to peace. If we all start saying, and believing, and teaching our children these words, we will be on our way.

But who has the courage to speak as Rabbi Uziel and as Emir Feisal did? We are waiting. Israelis and Palestinians are waiting. Jews and Muslims and Christians are waiting. The world is waiting. Let us hear these words, let us begin to understand.

Torah Judaism, Modern Environmentalism

 

 

When I speak to Torah Jews about the environment, I often find that they expect me to speak about hugging trees.  In some communities, the environment is thought of as a friendly topic, one that will be interesting to children, perhaps at camp.  In other communities, the environment is a topic that has hardly been broached at all.  Our community is uninformed about the environmental challenges we face, the Torah view, and our own responsibilities to our families, our communities, and our world.  It is my hope that this article will begin to cast light on these issues, to help our community learn and act.

 

Our environment is severely threatened today.  We face the breakdown of major systems on our planet; systems that all human beings rely on for basic elements such as food, clean air, and clean water. More than half of the world’s major rivers are seriously depleted and polluted.  Nearly 1.8 million people die worldwide each year due to urban pollution.  Thirteen thousand species are listed as threatened or endangered with extinction or as species of concern under the Endangered Species Act, more than 100 times what we understand to be normal rates of species extinction. Large predatory fish in our oceans have been reduced to a mere 10% (by mass) of pre-industrial levels. The Millenium Ecosystem Assessment, a recent study of worldwide ecosystems, concluded that we are destroying our natural resources at a rate that will leave a seriously depleted world for our own children.

 

The problem is even more severe in Israel, where more people die from air pollution in metropolitan areas in Israel than from traffic deaths in all of Israel in a given year. Water scarcity has caused nearly all of the rivers in the land of Israel to become polluted or depleted, though efforts since 1993 are working to restore the major rivers in Israel.

 

While the modern environmental movement has done much to raise awareness of environmental challenges and to find technological solutions, the movement has done little to change the culture of Western society.  Western society tends to focus on a glorification of the physical, on quick “soundbites” versus wisdom, on instant gratification over patience, and on consumption rather than restraint.  This focus has, in part, caused today’s environmental challenges.  We will not succeed at protecting our environment by using the same methods that caused the problems we face.  The Torah, on the other hand, presents a time-tested philosophy which can help us address today’s problems – if we can listen to it.

 

The Torah has a deep tradition for protecting what is now known as the environment.  Reading our sources with an eye for environmental sensitivity, we find a wealth of connections and teachings that encourage us to protect our resources, care for our health, prevent unnecessary damage to our neighbors, show concern and respect for other creatures, and avoid unnecessary waste.  These teachings can help us find solutions to some of the grave environmental threats that we face today.

 

Building awareness of our Torah responsibility to protect the environment allows us to strengthen our understanding of the Torah’s perspective on modern issues.  In so doing, we can engage in these issues while remaining true to a Torah approach.  Meanwhile, the Torah wisdom on the environment has much to offer our troubled Western society, which is struggling to address environmental issues within the paradigms that created them.  Ultimately, bringing Jews together on an issue of common concern such as the environment can provide important opportunities for Jewish unity. 

 

The Torah’s teachings on our responsibility to Hashem’s world begin in Bereishit, when we are given two separate explanations for our role on the earth:

 

“Be fruitful and multiply, fill the Earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the Earth.” (Bereishit 1:28)

 

“And the L-rd G-d took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden, to cultivate it and to protect it.” (Bereishis 2:15)

In “The Lonely Man of Faith,” Rav Soloveitchik discusses two different conceptions of man based on these verses.  The first instruction calls to the physical person, who works the earth and uses it for his physical needs. This person relates to the earth and uses it in a physical way, to get what he needs to survive.  This function might be called “subduing the earth,” and Rav Solovetchik sees this as a holy endeavor, part of our human responsibility and part of what makes humanity great.

 

The second instruction calls to the spiritual side of man: the person who wants to know, understand, and connect to Hashem.  This person looks at the universe and wonders.  This person is given the instruction to cultivate the land and to protect it.  This person wants to connect to the land that we’ve been given.  In the second story which includes this instruction, Adam also goes around and names the animals.  He establishes a relationship with the earth.

 

Rav Solovetchik considers both aspects – the subduing and the protecting – as essential parts of a human being.  Looking at this from an environmental perspective, we can see that Hashem created the land for us to use.  But we also have a responsibility to temper our instincts to build and subdue.  There must be a balanced relationship with the earth.  We are permitted to use the earth -- but we must use it wisely. This balanced view is the Torah perspective on the environment, and we can see this balance running through our tradition whenever we are interacting with the world.

 

One example of the Torah’s wisdom regarding protecting Hashem’s resources comes in an unlikely place: in Bava Batra, in a discussion of laws that relate to protection of privacy.  These ancient laws read like modern day laws preventing pollution.  For example, the Talmud required that certain industries be kept at a distance from the town so that those living in the town would not be afflicted by the bad smells.  The Rambam follows on this example and prevents individuals from building certain technologies, such as threshing floors, on their property unless they are done at a distance where the particles of earth or dust will not reach his neighbor.  The Rambam says that it must be done at a distance that the wind will not carry the particles to his neighbor. The Rambam considered this in the same category as doing damage with arrows.  The Shulchan Aruch also describes a law requiring us to protect our neighbor’s drinking sources.

 

We can see from these sources that one of the major categories of what is now called “environmentalism” was included in our sources, and simply understood as part of our responsibilities to our neighbors.  But to what extent do our “environmental” actions today ensure the health and comfort of our neighbors?  When we drive our cars and idle them in school parking lots, do we think of the impact on our neighbors’ children who may have asthma?  When we wash our cars, fertilize our lawns, or pour chemicals down the drain, do we think of the impact on our neighbors’ water sources?  Perhaps we should revisit these sources in the context of our modern environmental challenges.

 

Even more important than our responsibility to protect our neighbors is our responsibility to protect our own health and that of our families.  The Torah’s teaching, “But you shall greatly beware for your souls” (devarim 4:15) requires us to be especially careful in protecting our health.  We all should take a moment to reflect on how well we are taking care of our bodies in light of this major obligation.  We must also remember that many actions that are today called “environmental” can have a significant impact on our health and especially on the health of our children.  Some products that we use in our homes include carcinogens which could, G-d forbid, affect our families.  Some pesticides being used on our lawns (or those of our children’s schools, or being used as pesticides on our food) can cause significant threats to our children. 

 

Once a person begins to recognize the breadth of the environmental problem, the next reaction is often to feel completely overwhelmed.  There are so many other things to do.  How can we protect the environment too?  But as Torah Jews, we are familiar with taking actions that are consistent with Torah.  We’ve all stopped buying a favorite product when it lost its heksher, or passed up a concert because it happened during the Three Weeks.   We know how to do the right thing, even when it is difficult.  This restraint is part of the wisdom of our tradition.

 

How do we choose the more difficult path?  By taking one action at a time.  In fact, we have a teaching from the Rambam that helps us focus this way.  The Rambam teaches us to see each action we take as tipping the balance for good or bad, in our own lives – and for the whole world.  Applied to the environment, we can see that we need to begin with our “daled amot” (the four spaces around us) and change just one action.  It will make a difference.  And in time, it will lead to the next action: a mitzvah begets another mitzvah.

 

There are many initial actions that we can take which will improve our own lives and also protect the world. 

  • To save energy, we can turn of the lights when leaving the room, use cold water in the washing machine, change the thermostat a few degrees to reduce heating and air conditioning costs, and choose to walk when we can instead of driving. 
  • We can make the air in our homes cleaner by investing in eco-friendly cleaning products, reducing air fresheners and aerosols, and ensuring that our home has a Carbon Monoxide detector. 
  • To reduce chemicals in our home, we can begin to buy organic.  (The most important 12 fruits and vegetables to buy organic are apples, bell peppers, celery, cherries, imported grapes, nectarines, peaches, pears, potatoes, red raspberries, spinach, and strawberries. For an exploration of this issue visit www.canfeinesharim.org and search “organic.”) 
  • To reduce waste, we can recycle, buy recycled paper with the highest “post-consumer waste” percentage available, stop buying bottled water and use tap water (with filter, if needed), and use real dishes and cloth napkins rather than disposable.  

Any of these actions would help us begin on a path toward healthy and sustainable living.  Choose one to start with, and when you have mastered that, it will be time to choose another.

 

The Torah’s wisdom on the environment is being taught today by Canfei Nesharim, an organization which is working to inspire the Jewish community to understand and act on the relationship between traditional Jewish sources and modern environmental issues.  Since its inception in 2003, Canfei Nesharim has implemented environmentally-focused programs for Jewish holidays and the Sabbath in dozens of local communities worldwide.

 

Canfei Nesharim (“the Wings of Eagles”) is the only organization that focuses on environmental education specifically within the Orthodox Jewish community.  In 2007, the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) passed a resolution supporting the Torah-based environmental movement and recognizing the work of Canfei Nesharim, urging “every Jew to join its cause.” The RCA called upon its members to “educate themselves and their constituents both scientifically and halakhically about the environmental challenges we face.” Canfei Nesharim has also been recognized as one of the fifty most innovative Jewish non-profit organizations in North America by 21/64 (Slingshot), a division of The Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies. 

 

In 2008, Canfei Nesharim embarked on three new initiatives.  The first is a strategy for environmental engagement in Orthodox day schools, beginning with a series of educator focus groups in summer 2008.  The second is a series of seminars for San Francisco educators on Jewish environmental wisdom, based on a set of weekly Torah commentary resources.  The third is a program series for local synagogues, called Daled Amot & Beyond.  In addition, Canfei Nesharim’s executive director will present two sessions at CAJE’s upcoming conference.  All of Canfei Nesharim’s programs provide education about the relevance of Torah wisdom to the environment, and help Jews address modern environmental concerns from within the context of Jewish tradition.

 

Canfei Nesharim offers a wealth of resources about Torah and the environment via its searchable web-based resource library, its weekly Torah commentary on the environment, and its first publication, A Compendium of Sources in Halacha and the Environment, which includes articles by rabbis about the connections between Torah and protecting the environment, and has been distributed to approximately 500 rabbis, educators, and families.  More information about Canfei Nesharim’s resources and programs can be found at www.canfeinesharim.org.

 

Canfei Nesharim has volunteers in 20 cities, including Washington, DC; New York, NY; Sharon, MA; Los Angeles, CA; Milwaukee, WI, and San Francisco, CA.  To find a partner school or synagogue near you (or to create a new partnership with Canfei Nesharim), send an email to [email protected]

 

One would not imagine that our sages could have imagined the environmental problems that we face today.  And yet, the Torah includes teachings for every type of challenge that we face.  We conclude with this remarkable insight from the Midrash:

 

At the time when G-d created Adam, He took him around the trees of the Garden of Eden, and He said to them, “Look at My works!  How beautiful and praiseworthy they are.  Everything that I have created, I created for you.  Take care not to damage and destroy My world, for if you damage it, there is no one to repair it after you.” (Kohelet Rabba 7:28)