Author: gurevitzr (Page 9 of 26)

#BlogElul 3: The intentions of the ‘other’

August 20, 2012 / gurevitzr

If you’ve been following along since last week’s blog posting, you’ll know that I’m blogging throughout the Jewish month of Elul on daily themes created by my colleague, Rabbi Phyllis Sommer. If you use Twitter, you’ll be able to see many posts by many bloggers on the daily theme by following #BlogElul.
Today’s theme is Intentions.

Yesterday’s post was about inventories. As I reflected on taking stock of our own character trait inventories, I used judgment as an example. I’m aware that this is a character trait that I’ve worked on over a period of years. While I am always going to be ‘a work in progress’, I know that I’ve been able to adjust how this particular trait plays out in my own life. Today’s theme – Intentions – has a lot to do with how I’ve been able to make some progress in this area.

In any given day, we experience effects caused by the words and actions of many other people. If we are able to be truly mindful about what is happening, we might be able to clearly identify the act. We might also be able to clearly identify how we are feeling. But, for most of us, we rarely possess such clarity. Rather, somebody does or says something, it invokes a feeling in us, and we then construct a whole story about it. And this is what gets us into trouble.

Let me provide an example. Someone ignores you when you are waiting for attention in a store. Or cuts in front of you in a line or on the highway. Our judgmental voice – the one that rings out with a righteous sense of right and wrong, fair and unfair, steps in. Our ego is bruised. ‘Why do they think they are more important than me that they need to go first and ignore my needs?’ ‘What a selfish person to think that they don’t need to wait patiently like the rest of us.’ ‘Doesn’t that driver realize the enormous harm they could cause if I hadn’t noticed them and put my foot on the brake – how reckless and irresponsible!’

But the truth is, while we may have been unfortunate enough to interact with an individual who thinks and behaves in these ways, there are many other possible stories we could tell. ‘That shop attendant needs me to gently turn their attention my way; they are lost in thought because they are worried about their ailing mother in the hospital.’ ‘That driver just received a call that their kid got hit by the ball in lacrosse and was taken to the emergency room – they are getting there as quickly as they can.’

Notice how these completely different stories transform your emotional response to the very same set of circumstances. In mindfulness practice, being aware of what is real and what is the story we tell ourselves about our experience of that reality is one of the gifts we can receive from meditation. In Buddhist meditation, ‘Suffering’ is understood as a psycho-spiritual condition we often inflict upon ourselves by remaining attached to stories that may or may not be accurate, and serve no useful purpose as we try to live our best lives.

So learning that I cannot assume the intentions of the other can release me from a lot of the hurt that I might be feeling. If I have a difficult interaction with someone, finding a way to enquire about their intentions can be the opening to a conversation. Perhaps I will just listen and gain a new insight into the essence of another. Or perhaps I will feel a need to explain to them that, while they may have intended one thing, I experienced it in another way. It may be important that they gain some awareness of my responses to certain things. We come to better know each other and, perhaps, to act with more consciousness and sensitivity to each other’s needs. And, as I come to realize that the intentions of the ‘other’ may not be what I first assumed to be so, I may gain greater awareness of the ways in which my own intentions can be misunderstood or misinterpreted by others. Learning this about ourselves and about others can help us to lessen the voice of judgment and strengthen the voice of compassion within us.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogElul 2: Soul Trait Inventories

August 20, 2012 / gurevitzr

http://www.superiorwarehousing.com/images/inventory-picture.jpg

In the last few years, the Jewish spiritual practice of Musar has made something of a resurgence among Jews from many different walks of life. Perhaps Alan Morinis can be most identified with making what was once primarily under the purview of observant, Jewish males into something accessible that speaks to a much wider audience. But others, such as Ira Stone, also have written extensively on Musar and, similarly to Morinis, offer online courses and communities of practice for those who wish to engage more deeply.

The link above provides a more detailed explanation of the history and practice of Musar. But one key element is the identification of separate (although often inter-dependent) character traits that one can examine over time, through study with others, and with self-observation and journaling as one takes a designated period of time (usually at least a month) to become aware of how this particular characteristic reveals itself in your own life. You might be looking at the trait of judgment. Or trust. Or, perhaps, compassion.

In Musar, there is a recognition that there is not one right way to exercise each of these traits. The practice is one of paying attention to how it manifests in your own life now in comparison to how you might believe it should manifest if you were able to raise your spiritual life to a higher level. As part of the practice, one of the most important elements of one’s self-awareness is to recognize the ‘Bechirah’ – the choosing points when examining how a particular trait exhibits itself in your life.

So, for example, there may be many kinds of interactions where I feel good about my ability to be non-judgmental. But that is not where I need to do my deepest spiritual work. It is the kinds of interactions where I hear the judgmental voice in me rising sharply… if I can notice what specifically flips that switch in me, I can then begin to really examine and understand where my judgment comes from. The goal is not to arrive at a completely relativist world where I never judge anyone or anything. But perhaps I realize that I can sometimes be harsh. Or sometimes I rule out people or options too quickly when they deserved deeper consideration. And so, over time, I can choose to work on rebalancing this particular soul trait in my own life. And how that looks for me, may be different to how it looks to you. You may be someone who seldom judges. And this may manifest in ways that sometimes has people taking advantage of you and manipulating you. Your soul trait work on this trait may see you rebalancing in a different direction, and becoming a little more judgmental in certain contexts.

When we talk of Elul as a month to take stock, to turn, to reflect…. its not just about counting up ‘sins’ and telling ourselves that we’ll try and do better next year. There are many spiritual practices and tools that we can draw upon from the well of Jewish wisdom. They can guide us in a deeper way so that, when we return to Rosh Hashanah a year from now, we may notice that we’ve not just circled a year, but that we’ve spiraled a year, and we’ve ended up a little higher along the path than the year before.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

#BlogElul 1: Navigating the landscapes of life

August 19, 2012 / gurevitzr

‘He took a turn for the worse’
‘She turned her life around’
‘They turned our lives upside down’
‘I needed some quiet time to turn inward’ …

There are many ways that we use the language of turning, of changing direction, to refer to what is happening in our lives. The language implies that there is a path on which we are headed, or a direction in which we are pointing.

Sometimes events happen that cause us to be rerouted in an unplanned for, unexpected direction. We have to take stock of our new surroundings and figure out how we will live in the new reality.

Sometimes we’ve made choices that impact our lives and the lives of others, taking us on paths that do not serve us well, or are likely to lead us to ever-darker destinations if we do not take action and intentionally change course.

What does it mean, then, to speak of ‘turning’ or ‘returning’ as we enter the month of Elul, the four weeks leading to Rosh Hashanah? A kind of conscious upgrade of the maps in our internal GPS (God Positioning System), we are invited to find time and pause long enough in the midst of our hectic lives to look around and take stock of our current landscape; to pinpoint where we are and on what road we appear to be heading.

While self-awareness, mindful practice, and ethical decision-making are a part of each and every day, its hard in the midst of that everyday to see the big picture and make an honest assessment of the choices we are making that, together, point to the direction we are headed. And so, once a year, we unfold the large-scale map and, in this larger context, can start to look at where we really are.

To turn might be to realize that we left the highway to explore an intriguing side-road, but now we realize that its just a dead end.

To turn might be to notice that we’ve only ever stayed on the main highways our entire life, and now its time to explore some of the back roads so that we can truly come to know ourselves.

To turn might be to look back at some previous destination, when we were at our happiest and our lives seemed most in balance; our relationships were at their best. We realize that we want to make a U-turn and try to return to that place.

To turn might be to simply choose a different point of perspective from which to examine our current landscape. Perhaps we didn’t choose to be here, and we’ve been struggling with our new location. Perhaps we’ve only looked at it from the depth of the valley. If we can begin to accept that we’ve been left stranded here without a vehicle for a while, we might realize that if we could walk our way up to the top of the hill, we’ll get a different view, and our ability to live in our new surroundings may improve.

Now is the time for turning. Take a look. What do you see? Where are you? Where are you heading? Now is the time for choosing. Choose your path. Be conscious of your direction. Choose your perspective. And return to the best life that you can be living today.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

How do communities of faith respond to gun violence?

August 14, 2012 / gurevitzr

Images from Oak Creek, Wisconsin

This sermon was delivered at Congregation B’nai Shalom, Westborough, MA on Friday August 10th.

What happens when the 24 hour news cycle brings our attention to two mass murders involving guns in the space of two weeks?

And what role does a synagogue community have in responding to these horrific events?

Depending on what Cable channels you are in the habit of tuning into, you may find yourself witness to a response that goes on the offensive – either for or against gun control. ‘Why is it legal for ordinary citizens to own guns that can fire off multiple rounds in a matter of seconds?’ sums up one side of the argument. ‘If someone else in the room had been carrying a gun, the crazy guy could have been taken out before he killed more people,’ sums up the other side of the argument. And there we find ourselves; choose one side or the other, and then shout down whichever perspective isn’t yours.

As to the second question, communities of faith can respond in many ways:

– We can first reaffirm our commitment to deeply care about the welfare of others. We can pray for all those who are hurting and mourning. If something happens close to home, we can show up because that’s how we express love for our neighbor. If we hear of other concrete requests that enable to reach out to communities suffering from these traumas, we can respond. To that end, during the oneg you will find a card on a table in the Oneg room tonight. I invite you to write a message on the card, or on the sheets of paper next to the card that will be included inside, which we will mail to the Oak Creek Sikh community in Wisconsin to express our condolences, prayers, and support.

– We can join together as a community for a moment of reflection and prayer – jointly expressing our emotions when we hear of these terrible acts. This we will do in a few minutes, with a prayer written by Rabbi Naomi Levy in response to the terror shooting at the Sikh Temple.

– Events like this always give us pause for thought as a minority faith community. We remember too well a time when synagogues were the targets for these hate crimes. We remain alert because we know that these times are not completely behind us. Additionally, Jewish organizations with expertise around issues of security and awareness have been offering their assistance to Muslim and Sikh communities.

– We can rededicate ourselves to building bridges with our brothers and sisters of faith. We will look for and create opportunities in this coming year and beyond to bring together our community with Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus, and others because, when we overcome ignorance, indifference, and unfamiliarity, we build understanding, respect, and strengthen all of our faith communities in the process. Our 7th and 8th graders will be invited later in the year to participate in the STOP program – an incredible opportunity that has been running for a few years now to visit many different places of worship and meet other young people of faith. If you have a child in those grades I hope you will encourage them to take this opportunity when it comes. Our Brotherhood received a small community grant to create a collaborative interfaith program, and I look forward to working with them to make it a reality. And our Social Action team are dedicated to finding interfaith opportunities to work together in the local community. If you are already involved in an activity that might fit the bill, please tell me or our Social Action chair, Jeff Govendo, about it so that we can help spread the word and find others in the congregation who may wish to join you in your efforts. For my part, I look forward to attending and meeting the clergy in the local Interfaith clergy association when they re-gather in the Fall.

– And what about the public debate? Is it possible to talk with each other in the context of a faith-based approach to the principles and values at stake in a way that doesn’t simply echo the narratives heard on MSNBC or Fox news? I’d like to think there is. One of things that I believe strongly is that, while we can always find Jewish ethical values to inform our conversation, it’s much harder to translate some of those values into specific policy in contemporary America. It is possible, but we have to recognize and admit that it is seldom black and white.

So, for example, one of the absolute highest values in Judaism is the value of ‘to save a life is to save a world.’ Any action we can take that may lead to the preservation of life trumps almost any other action. And so, for example, an observant Jew can break the laws of Shabbat to rush someone to the hospital. Organ transplants are now halachically permitted by most authorities because they save lives. But, there are exceptions. If you are held at gunpoint and told that you can save 6 people by picking up a gun and killing 1 person randomly from the group, you may not do so. You may not murder. This may defy your sense of what you might think was the better choice, but you are not permitted to make one life less valuable than any other. So even the value of ‘to save a life is to save the world’ isn’t entirely black and white.

How might this value be applied to the conversation about gun control? One could argue that if more people carried guns, they would be able to potentially save many lives by killing someone who opens fire on a crowded room. That is the argument that proponents of gun rights make. I see it a little differently. I am concerned that a whole load of people carrying guns, with varying levels of skill and training, may inadvertently cause a lot more physical harm, including deaths, in such a scenario. It would also seem to me that if we applied ‘to save a life is to save a world’ to the current debate at hand, we should be investigating some restrictions on guns that were designed to fire off a large number of rounds between reloads. It would seem to me that keeping these kinds of guns out of the hands of ordinary civilians would be in keeping with this highest of Jewish values. We can have the debate about how that conforms with American constitutional rights, but that is not the same thing as looking at the Jewish ethical perspective.

This has been how the Reform movement has historically understood this value to apply to the contemporary scene, and its one of the main reasons that the Religious Action Center has advocated strongly for stricter controls over the most dangerous kinds of guns.

There may be some in the room who draw different conclusions. It is not my job as your Rabbi to tell you what US laws are right or wrong, good or bad. But it is my job to raise up and present Jewish values that have informed our faith tradition as I understand them. And this is how I understand the rabbinic statement, ‘to save a life is to save the world.’

But let me conclude by returning to the reaching out we can and must do to those who have lost and suffered. I end with this prayer:

This prayer was written to recite for the victims and survivors of the Aug. 5 shooting at the Sikh temple in Wisconsin. Rabbi Naomi Levy, spiritual leader of Nashuva, wrote the prayer on behalf of the Conservative movement’s Rabbinical Assembly, which distributed it to congregations around the world.

Let Us Stand Up Together (נעמדה יחד)
–From our Haftarah this Shabbat, the second Haftarah of comfort (Isaiah 50:8), by Rabbi Naomi Levy

We stand together in grief
For the innocent victims
Of the Sikh Temple of Wisconsin
Who perished in their house of prayer.
May their memories be a blessing,
May their lights shine brightly on us.

We stand together in mourning
For broken hearts,
The senseless loss, the shock, the emptiness.

We stand together in outrage,
Weary of this war-torn hate-filled world.
And together we pray:

Send comfort, God, to grieving families,
Hear their cries.
Fill them with the courage
To carry on in the face of this tragic loss.
Send healing to the wounded,
Lift them up, ease their pain,
Restore them to strength, to hope, to life.
Gather the sacred souls of the slaughtered
Into Your eternal shelter,
Let them find peace in Your presence, God.

Work through us, God,
Show us how to help.
Open our hearts so we can comfort the mourning,
Open our arms so we can extend our hands,
Transform our helplessness into action,
Turn the prayers of our souls into acts of kindness and compassion.

Let us stand up together
Our young and our old,
All races and faiths,
All people and nations.
Rise up above hatred
And cruelty and indifference.
Let us live up to our goodness
Let us learn from this tragedy
Let us walk together
Filled with hope
On a path of peace, Amen.

Returning on August 19th – Elul begins

August 12, 2012 / gurevitzr

A week from today we arrive at Rosh Chodesh Elul – the beginning of the new Hebrew month of Elul. This is the month that leads up to Rosh Hashanah. The Jewish New Year has a very different flavor to the secular New Year with its party hats, champagne and poppers. The Jewish New Year in an invitation to reflect, turn and return, realigning ourselves with a spiritual center that is our God-given holy spark. When we are paying attention, this is the spark that lights the path and helps us find our way through life, being the highest of what we have the potential to be.

For Rosh Hashanah to be a meaningful holiday, we need to prepare. Elul provides a month of reflective preparation time. In our modern age, there are many tools and guides available to us that enable us to set aside a little time each day for this reflective work of soul preparation. One of my colleagues, Rabbi Phylis Sommer, has again suggested a theme a day for #BlogElul and #Elulgram, and I’ll be participating by blogging here on her listed themes. The ‘#’ tells you that the various bloggers who join her can be easily found on Twitter if you search for #BlogElul – we’ll all be posting links to our blogs that way. If you follow me on Facebook, you’ll also see the Elul postings there. And, of course, you can sign up on the right side of this blog to receive an email in your inbox whenever I’ve posted a new blog piece. An #Elulgram is a photo posted on Twitter, offering a visual interpretation of the day’s theme.

While you may let some of us provide a guide through the month of Elul by reading some of these postings, anyone can contribute. If you have a blog, try writing some of your own reflections. Or, use the comments box on my blog to add your own thoughts on the day’s theme, on the days that I post. I don’t usually manage to post every day of Elul, but about once a week I’ll post my personal selection of the ‘best of’ #BlogElul with links to some of the pieces by others that I have found most thought-provoking in my own preparations for the High Holydays.

Circumspect Conversations about Circumcision

July 12, 2012 / gurevitzr

cross-posted at the Rabbis Without Borders blog on http://myjewishlearning.com

This week we heard news from Germany that a regional court ruled that circumcision amounts to bodily harm, even if parents agree to it. There is, as of yet, no law to make the performance of the ritual illegal, but the ruling has nevertheless caused concern. The Conference of European Rabbis are gathering in an emergency meeting to consider a response.

There is news out of Europe on a fairly regular basis that challenges the legitimacy and ethic of one of two ritual practices that impacts both the Jewish and Muslim communities – circumcision, and the practice of shechitah (ritual slaughter) as part of the process of making animals kosher to eat. When this news reaches US shores, we sometimes jump to the conclusion that there is more than a hint of antisemitism (or, increasingly, Islamophobia) behind these challenges. And there is certainly something to that. But it is also the case that these are conversations that take place within the Jewish community too. As a congregational Rabbi, often engaging with and counseling new parents on the question of circumcision, I know that there is much more involved in this conversation, and desire to have it respectfully and fully. In truth, I have a position and I will share it, and it is in favor of traditional Jewish circumcision. But, as a Reform Rabbi, while I seek to educate about this traditional practice and encourage it, I hold to the principle of ‘informed choice’ which is a hallmark of the Reform movement. Ultimately, I will engage parents and their child, performing rituals of welcome into Jewish community and covenant, both in the traditional context of brit milah (the Jewish ritual of circumcision), or as a baby naming ceremony held after a baby is circumcised in a hospital or, in rare cases, where parents are strongly opposed to circumcision at all.

Just this past weekend, at the end of the first week in my new congregation, I co-officiated with a Mohel (trained and qualified to carry out the circumcision) at a traditional brit milah. The context was one with a Jewish and non-Jewish parent, committed to involvement in Jewish community life. For the non-Jewish relatives, this was a new experience, and certainly one that caused anxiety. The mohel, with over 26 years experience, did an expert job of explaining what was happening, how babies respond to medical procedures, and contextualizing the ritual in its historic and halachic (Jewish legal) framework. For sure, everyone was relieved when the act was done, as is only natural; the baby’s only griping was prior to any procedure, in protest to having his legs held still by his grandfather, but the explanations and additional blessings also provided a great deal of comfort.

As the Mohel explained, there are good, medical reasons for waiting until the eighth day for a circumcision; something that our ancestors thousands of years ago may have learned by observation – for the little amount of bleeding that takes place, by the eighth day the natural process of blood clotting has fully developed in an infant. For those who choose to have a circumcision in a hospital, it often takes place before mother and child go home, much sooner. And it is done behind closed doors, with a doctor and nurse. Having had a congregant in my last congregation who was a specialist in this area invite me one day to watch him perform such a circumcision (for a non-Jewish infant) in the hospital, I know that great expertise is brought in both cases. But a mohel who has performed numerous circumcisions in the presence of an infant’s most intimate family certainly brings nothing less than great care and gentleness to every moment of the ritual.

For those who choose not to circumcise their son at all, wanting the child to decide for themselves when they are old enough to make an informed decision, I cannot authentically provide an argument that will conclusively deny their concerns of inflicting pain or carrying out a medically ‘unnecessary’ procedure on their child. I disagree with them – I have not witnessed an infant expressing more than very brief discomfort at a circumcision (discomfort that can be due to having their legs held still, and not necessarily from the procedure itself – most Reform-trained mohels use some kind of numbing agent prior to the procedure) – and I believe there is medical evidence to indicate greater health in this area later in life if circumcised. I also know that is a much more complex procedure later in life, with a much, much longer healing period following. But, ultimately, this is a question of belief for some parents. Jewish faith, and a heritage that commands this act of us, is also, ultimately, a belief.

I hope that the German, secular, courts, do not take further action to intervene and interfere on this matter. But I remain open to having honest and compassionate conversations about circumcision.

Taking Jewish Public on the Gymnast’s Mat: Aly Raisman

July 6, 2012 / gurevitzr

cross-posted at http://www.popjewish.com
Last Sunday, when the USA gymnastic team for the Olympics was announced,

Aly Raisman, 18, became a member of that team. Having just moved to

Massachusetts, my ears pricked up when I heard that she was a native of Needham, MA.

Interviewed on local tv, she shared the moment when they announced the team members:

“I was really, really emotional, way more than I thought I would be,” said Raisman after

being named to the Olympic squad. “I thought I would maybe tear up a little bit but I

didn’t think I’d hyperventilate like that. I couldn’t even breathe. It was such a special moment

and I’m so honoured and so excited.”

Prior to this week, she was perhaps best known for performing a routine at the

2011 World Gymnastics Championships in Tokyo, Japan, for which she won

a bronze medal. And the music that her moves were choreographed to?

Hava Nagila. In the film of that performance, below, you can hear the commentators

adding their thoughts about the music, and the way it energizes both the athlete a

nd the audience supporting her.

As reported by the JTA back in 2011, Aly also explained that she was proud

of the inclusion of this music in her repertoire “because there aren’t too many

Jewish elites out there.”

Wikipedia hosts a page of Jews who have made it in sports – I don’t know how

accurate it is, but its a good source to get a sense of the scope and nationalities

of those who fit that bill. Among them is Kerri Strug, who is a bronze medal

winner in the Olympics.

For the past six years, as part of the closing ritual with my Eighth grade class at

Religious School, we have read some excerpts from the book dedicated to the

memory of Daniel Pearl, ‘I am Jewish.’ Following these readings from a broad

range of voices, each student writes their own brief paragraph to express

their own sense of Jewish identity, and we close the year by listening to each

other around a circle as we share these expressions. I always include Kerri Strug

among them. The overall theme of our year has been looking at the many ways to

express our Jewishness, and the many faces of Judaism. In a field like gymnastics,

Kerri expresses her awareness of how unusual it appears to be Jewish, and how

surprised people are when they learn this about her. It is something, therefore, that

she is proud to share; a way to break peoples’ stereotypes. Now I can add Aly Raisman

to that ritual.

Good luck in this year’s Olympics Aly!

Reform Women Rabbis Being Heard

June 29, 2012 / gurevitzr

Cross-posted at the Rabbis Without Borders Blog at myjewishlearning.com

In the midst of much activity in Israel in the ongoing push to ensure that women are not silenced or made invisible in newspaper media or public advertising, the celebration of a Reform woman rabbi winning a Supreme Court case to receive public funding, and the ongoing travails of the Women of the Wall seeking the right to pray in peace at the Kotel – the Western Wall in Jerusalem – there is much to write about these days about women and Judaism. And there is plenty to say about female leadership in Jewish community, both lay and professional.

Rabbi Sally Priesand

Launched less than a month ago, Kol Isha: Reform Women Rabbis Speak Out, is a new blog that provides a new vehicle for Women Rabbis to reflect on their own experiences as female clergy, and reflect on these larger issues that affect women’s’ experience in the wider Jewish world.

Kol Isha is Hebrew for ‘Voice of a Woman’. It is a contested concept intraditional Jewish law, whereby a man cannot hear the voice of a woman, but even in traditional circles there is much debate as to the specific times and contexts to which this precept applies. Is it at all times, just in prayer, only for certain categories of prayer, or just when singing, for example. Among progressive Jews, equality of genders has overridden this precept, as it has in many contemporary societies.

Why just Reform Women Rabbis? The blog was launched as a project of the Women’s Rabbinic Network – an auxiliary of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the official body representing Reform Rabbis in the USA.

The first blog was posted on June 3rd – the precise date of the ordination of the first woman Rabbi in the USA, Sally Priesand. Sally guest posted the first blog. There are about 30 women Rabbis now providing daily postings, many of whom are blogging for the first time. Just as with this blog, we Rabbis who blog have found that this medium provides an effective way of getting beyond the borders of our own local communities, sharing our voices and reflections on Jewish wisdom, culture, spirituality, and life with an audience that is literally global. I know from the stats on this blog, that I have readers from South Africa, Israel, Russia, Argentina, Great Britain, Spain, as well as from all over the USA. I also know from comments and private email correspondence that I have both Jewish and non-Jewish readers. I’ve met people who have attended programs that I’ve run in the community who have told me that they came to their first Jewish event with me after many years of no explicit Jewish connection, after having read my blog for several months. And I’ve had individuals reach out to me with pastoral needs online, in response to something that I wrote that they found on my blog.

So, what are our women Rabbis writing about? Well, go and take a look for yourself. But among the topics covered in these past couple of weeks, there are reflections on body image, relating to our teenage girls, balancing work and family life, pregnancy and miscarriage, supporting a sick child, leaving congregational positions, being a chaplain to the prison population, and several reflections on 40 years of women in the Rabbinate.

While most women who are Rabbis will tell you that, in the work they do in their communities, they are ‘Rabbis’ and not ‘Women Rabbis’, there is no question that women have transformed the face of the rabbinate in more than just its appearance. Just looking at the topics above, this is clear. In being true to the essence of who we are, we cannot leave any one piece of our identities behind, and our gender informs how we live in this world, what we see and experience, and how we relate to others.

Forty years on, we celebrate the place of women in the Rabbinate, we reflect on the journey and where we still hope to go, and we share our experiences and insights.

Nora Ephron: A Look at the Reflections

June 27, 2012 / gurevitzr

Cross-posted at a new blog – http://www.popjewish.com/ Contributions from Rabbis from across the denominations – check it out!

There is no question that, from the perspective of a consumer of popular culture, the most important thing to say about the passing of Nora Ephron is that a great writer, with a great eye and sharp wit for observing daily life, has left us. I’m sure for her family the most important thing to say is that a sister/mother/wife has left their world. After reading the obituary in the NY Times, and then Abigail Pogrebin’s intimate and charming reflection in The Forward, I was struck by the complete absence of mention of her Jewish identity in the former followed by a fascinating claim to her being ‘utterly Jewish’ in the latter. Pogrebin interviewed Ephron for her 2003 book, ‘Stars of David: Prominent Jews Talk About Being Jewish’: She said she thought of herself “as a Jew, but not Jewish.” She wasn’t in denial about her Jewish identity, just indifferent to it…

Later in her article, Pogrebin shares: “She was relieved her two boys didn’t request bar mitzvahs. “First of all, because of my feelings about religion, and second of all, because they’re so expensive, and third of all, because nothing is more awful than a divorced bar mitzvah.”

And yet, Pogrebin concludes: “For all her Jewish disconnection, she felt utterly Jewish to me.”

I think I know what she means – how can you watch ‘When Harry met Sally’, especially with the ever-so-Jewish Billy Crystal, and not feel a Jewish sensibility and wit oozing from the script? I listened to her book, ‘I remember nothing: and other reflections’ as an audio book about a year ago. While I don’t recall any explicitly Jewish content, there was no mistaking (just as there is no mistaking listening to Woody Allen) that these were the words of Jewish woman.

For Ephron, ‘Jewish’ was a cultural label she owned but did not put in the top five list of labels she would use to describe herself, and it certainly was not a religious framework that she consciously lived by and engaged in.

I find myself reflecting on the way we Jews like to list and identify with our people; especially our people who have left a mark on our world or our cultural consciousness. It is not unique to us, by any means – a quick glance on Amazon.com reveals many collections of books about remarkable Christians, men and women. Yet, when I read Pogrebin’s touching reflection, I am left with a sadness about the Jewish experiences of Nora Ephron. That the worst excesses of bar mitzvah are what come to mind as the quintessential Jewish ritual, gratefully avoided, points to an absence that is deeper than the choice to observe or not observe Jewish rituals. I’m not interested in ritual for its own sake, only as a vessel for significant spiritual reflection and expression and, in the context of Judaism, especially as a communal activity. Those are things that are hard to express in language, and so some of the rituals and traditions of Judaism provide a shared vocabulary through which we can not only make space in our lives for such experiences, but share them with others too.

Perhaps if Pogrebin hadn’t written a piece about Nora Ephron being ‘utterly Jewish’, I would have just read the NY Times obit and would be focused solely on that which Nora herself would probably prefer we pay attention to – her incredible legacy of writing and her ability to make us laugh at ourselves, time and time again. But when I reflect on the Jewishness that is expressed in Pogrebin’s piece, I begin to think about expressions of the spiritual life. And I don’t think its even a sadness that I might have as a Rabbi that it wasn’t Jewish in the traditional sense of observance. I think its more that I am left wondering how the spiritual life was lived and expressed altogether. Because, ultimately, that is what feels like an essential part of human existence to me, and that is why I’m doing what I do, and my hope is that Nora had some way of accessing and expressing that too, especially in the last difficult months of her life.

Blessings beyond Borders – an interfaith tale

June 13, 2012 / gurevitzr

Last Saturday evening I was given an opportunity to be part of a truly wonderful celebration – the Sweet 16 party of a very special young woman. As I explained to the guests gathered there that evening, this was an evening of firsts for me. We don’t really make much of the 16th birthday in the UK, probably because 18 is not so far away. In the UK, 18 takes on greater significance as it is the legal drinking age. So last Saturday was my first ever Sweet Sixteen party. Another new and special part of the experience for me was that this Sweet 16 was celebrated Puerto Rican style. As I learned in preparing for the event, there are variations on the rituals that have become associated with this celebration – Brazilians, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and other Latin American countries all utilize slightly different symbolic acts and objects to represent the transition into womanhood. Traditionally, these events took place at the age of 15, and so the celebration would be called a Quinceanera. In North America, the celebration has often shifted to the age of 16, influenced by North American Sweet Sixteen celebrations. At the celebration I attended, two key ritual moments involved replacing a ribbon in the young woman’s hair with a tiara, and a pair of flat shoes with high heels. Another part of the tradition is for a priest to offer a blessing, often presenting a bible and a crucifix necklace. And this is where I came in.

The young woman in question is Muslim. Desiring to celebrate her Puerto Rican cultural roots, but minus the religious traditions of Catholicism, it might have been challenging to involve either a Priest or an Imam. Much of the family was practicing Catholic, and many of the women from the Islamic community were present for the celebration too. It was a wonderful interfaith and intercultural gathering in and of itself. But why add a Rabbi to the mix?

I was invited to offer a blessing at this particular Sweet 16 after getting to know this young woman these past two years through our Tent of Abraham interfaith activities. We had met on several occasions – adult and teen discussion programs, Rosh Hodesh group and Muslim women’s study and celebration gatherings, and Iftar (evening break fast) during Ramadan. And so it was that, in the week leading up to the celebration we spoke on the phone. In preparing some words of blessing, I asked her to reflect on significant moments in her life up until now that seemed to her to have shaped her life and her faith. She spoke of her father’s death at an early age, and later reflecting more deeply on taking responsibility in the world during a time that her mother was unwell. She spoke of the values that were most important to her – trust, loyalty, compassion, friendship. She spoke of her belief in one God, who could be addressed and experienced directly by every person. These words and more were the sentiments that I reflected back to her. In the mix, as per a request from her and her mother, I explained how the rituals and the celebration compared with Jewish coming-of-age ceremonies. Just as the evening was filled with many firsts for me (I even began with a few sentences of Spanish – a language I have never studied or spoken before – thanks to the assistance of one of our Puerto Rican staff at the synagogue!), I explained that I was sure that the presence of a Rabbi to offer the blessing was a first for everyone there. It became an opportunity to learn from and about each other.

In the mix was the Priestly Blessing, an English interpretative rendition by Debbie Friedman, a Rashi interpretation on the blessing, and a blessing over the food sung in Aramaic and English. In just 5 minutes I had the opportunity to share some rich Jewish traditions and prayers with many who may never or rarely had any direct experience of Judaism before. This was taking Jewish wisdom public in a whole new context. These were blessings beyond borders. It certainly was a blessing for me to attend and participate in this wonderful young woman’s special evening.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz