Rabbi Gurevitz' creative works: Podcast, blogs, videos and more

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How to Make a Shiva Visit

Earlier this week I led a workshop at Congregation B’nai Shalom, Westborough, to offer guidance on how to make a shiva visit to a mourner.  The workshop covered many practical and pragmatic aspects of shiva, particularly helping more congregants feel comfortable making a shiva visit to someone in their community that they don’t know personally.  Much of what I offered was geared to the contemporary culture of a Reform Jewish community, with pragmatic advice on how to decide how many nights of shiva to have, how a shiva service may be run, etc.

The workshop was recorded and can be accessed via the link below.  If you are listening in from somewhere beyond Congregation B’nai Shalom I hope you also find the material helpful.  Please do feel free to add additional guidance or responses via the comments, either here on the blog or in the comments box on the sound cloud page where the workshop is hosted.

The article referenced during the workshop from myjewishlearning.com can be accessed here.

Blessings beyond Borders – an interfaith tale

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.
Cinderella's shoes
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

Snapshots of Congregation B’nai Israel

This sermon was delivered on Shabbat, June 1st, as a reflection on serving Congregation B’nai Israel for the past six years.  I will be moving on to Congregation B’nai Shalom in Westborough, MA, beginning July 1st.  I will continue to blog at this address.


Rabbi Prosnit often jokes, upon returning to lead services the first Shabbat after taking a vacation that ‘this will be the ‘what the Rabbi saw on his vacation’ sermon.’  But, while we get the joke, the sermons are always insightful and I always see the world in a new light or learn something new from listening to those reflections.  Because Rabbi Prosnit, who I have learned so much from these past six years, knows that a good friend does not make you endure a sitting of the 875 photos that they took on their holiday; rather, they pre-select a handful of the most unique and memorable moments worthy of sharing.
 When I’ve been on a journey and return with my collection of snap-shots, I tend not to be the kind of traveler who has images like ‘there’s me in city X’, or ‘there’s me next to statue Y’.  I like to take in the scene, and learn from the unfolding of the human or natural scene before me.  I want you to see what I saw through my eyes when I was there.  And that’s what I want to do this evening.  This isn’t the ‘What I’ve learned about being a Rabbi’ sermon.  This is the ‘This is what Jewish community looks and feels like’ sermon.  I’ve sifted through thousands of days, scenes and moments from the past 6 years here at B’nai Israel.  Too many to count and too many to do justice to all of you, what you have created together, and how you have inspired me.  All I can do is select a few snapshots.  This is my mini photo-montage of my journey with Congregation B’nai Israel – the memories that I take with me, created by each and every one of you.
Shabbat morning minyan
The first picture is a little out-of-focus.  That’s because I’m still rather bleary-eyed at 8am.  As many of you know, I’m not a morning person.  But, such an incredibly unique and blessed community is our Shabbat morning 8am minyan that I believe that I’d be a regular attendee even if I didn’t have to get up to the lead the service.  Cantor Blum knows that when I lean over to her just before we start the service and say, ‘let’s sing ‘Open up our eyes’ before the Shema this morning,’ that I need a little extra help fully awakening to the day that week.
In this slightly blurred snap-shot, you’ll see a teenager reading Torah on the anniversary of their bar or bat mitzvah.  Or perhaps one of the many adult Torah leyners we have up at the reading desk.  If you notice that the shot looks a little more blurred where their hand holds the yad – the Torah pointer – its because sometimes they get nervous.  But they do it anyway, and they inspire others, from time to time, to step up and say that they are ready to have a go.
But I also want you to take in the scene at the back of the chapel.  There’s a couple of rows of women – they are some of our senior members.  They are there every week.  They’ve been through a lot; losses and challenges in life.  But they are there for each other, and they help each other get through.  And they didn’t stop praying.  In fact, its after some of those losses and challenges that they began.  Seeing them there, praying together, helps me to pray.
Our teenagers
In the next snap-shot its hard to pick out what to focus on.  Actually, unless you were there, its hard to tell from the image what exactly is going on – it’s a group of teenagers and the scene looks a bit chaotic.  Its hard to tell what they are doing, but you can see from the laughs on their faces that everyone is having fun.  This is a Monday night during my class with our Eighth Graders.  You know, its not an accident that I’ve spent 6 years running the 8th grade program.  It wasn’t intended as Rabbi Prosnit’s version of hazing the new Assistant Rabbi.  Its actually the gift that I received from our Educator, Ira Wise.  We value our teens, and bar and bat mitzvah is not a destination, its just one stop on the journey.  And when one of your Rabbis is responsible for teaching the 8th grade its because we really care and we want you to be a part of it. 
In my photo, on this particular night, things look a bit different because it’s the night when members of BIFTY, our Youth Group, come storming in and ‘kidnap’ my students for night to give them a taste of our High School youth group community that they will be invited to become a part of that night.  I’ll tell you what I see in this picture, and what awes me every time.  A group of teenagers – 14, 15, 16 year olds maybe.  And some of those kids were my 8thgrade middle class students just last year.  And tonight they are leaders.  They are team-building, and they are instructing and guiding, and they are helping and including.  And I get a glimpse of something that is so much more powerful than just fun and games.  I get a glimpse of the remarkable young people in our congregation; not only may they be the leaders of our community in the future – they are our leaders today. 
I see them in BIFTY, I see them at Merkaz.  And they inspire me and give me hope.
Nursery and young children
The next picture is one of the few places in the synagogue building where I feel tall.  There are some adults in the room – a couple of teachers and our Pre-School Director, Alexa Cohen.  But I’m feeling tall because I’m in a pre-school classroom with a class of 4 year old children.  We’ve got our hands and legs stretched out in all different directions (demonstrate).  We’re being trees.  Because its almost Tu Bishvat – the festival of trees.  Tu Bishvat often falls in February and so, when I come in and ask them what special holiday is coming up soon, I’ve learned not to be surprised when they tell me ‘Valentine’s Day’. 
In fact, its very helpful when they remind me that 3 and 4 years take in everything from the world around us.  It reminds me that being a Rabbi today means that we always have to respond to the times and the culture that our community is living in.  We can’t stand still, and we have to make the ancient Jewish rituals, holidays and wisdom relevant in today’s world.  That’s what Rabbi Nicole Wilson-Spiro has done in providing a weekly Shabbat morning Young Families Chavurah which combines a totally contemporary take on parenting Jewish children with the gift of family time on Shabbat.  And that’s what Elaine Chetrit does with our elementary-aged children on Friday evening at Mishpacha Shabbat.  Celebrating with these groups gives me joy.
Adult learners
If the next shot looks a little unfamiliar and a little… Christian… that’s because we’re at a Retreat Center on the CT shoreline.  30 women have gathered for a one day retreat.  Its probably the most intensive kind of adult learning experience that I’ve taken a snap-shot of, but I could have chosen so many others, with men and women, experienced learners and complete beginners, figuring out their relationship with Jewish community, traditions, ethics, and taking a look at what they believe, what inspires them, and what feeds their spirit and their soul.  Some are engaging in the hardest kind of learning of all – being complete beginners at Hebrew with Elaine, or the festivals and other basics in the Parent Learning Circle. 
Its not easy being a beginner at something when we’re adults and so accomplished in other areas of life.  But the snap-shot of the retreat will always stay with me.  Its partly that the setting is so beautiful.  Its also a place where I’ve worked and led services with my soul partner and master teacher of creativity – Suri.  But more than that, it’s the deep sharing and connecting that is so beautiful; its what’s possible when we dispense with the ‘small talk’ and engage in ‘big talk’ with each other.  This snap-shot is full of spiritual awakenings.  Learning with these adults nourishes my spirit.
Board/committees/lay leadership
I wasn’t actually present for this next snap-shot.  But it’s a group of people with charts and to-do lists in front of them.  The photo may not look very exciting – a group of people sat around a table, talking and planning.  Everyone has something to contribute and everyone is pitching in with their particular skill set and passion.  Some of these people knew each other before this photo was taken. But some are meeting for the first time, or getting to know each other better.  They are planning a big party, and by all accounts, they did an amazing job!  But while I have and continue to thank everyone who had a hand in an incredible gala this year, this kind of scene at our Temple is just a touch-stone for all of the lay leadership that makes things happen around here each and every day. 
Committees who are doing our caring work, visioning the future of our Religious school education, helping with our family-focused celebrations and mitzvah day, making sure that we can pay our bills, and helping our amazing facilities manager, Abby Rohinsky, with all the juggling of activities, tasks and maintenance involved in running a place like this.  And then, our course, there is our Board and Executive.
I’ve worked here under three Presidencies – Richard Krantz, Amy Rich, and Mark Kirsch.  And now Mindy Siegel prepares to take up the reigns.  Each so different in their styles, and each so delightful to partner with in our work here.  Countless people who, even if its just to do one thing one time, step up to offer of themselves to make this holy community happen.  We couldn’t do it without members and their financial support.  But that isn’t enough.  We couldn’t do it without a quality professional staff.  But that isn’t enough. 
Just as in the Torah Moses asks for contributions to build the Mishkan – the place where God will dwell among them – from those whose hearts move them, so those who volunteer of themselves are giving from their hearts to create this place where God dwells among us.  When I look at this snap-shot I am inspired to work harder and offer more too.
Tonight
The final snap-shot hasn’t been taken yet.  I’d like to break with sanctuary protocol just this once and take it now.  Its all of you.  

When I arrived, I sang a short blessing at my installation.  So taken was I by the warm welcome I received when I arrived 6 years ago, and by my sense of genuine caring and community that I felt here, I adapted a blessing that is traditionally said when you see beautiful and amazing things in nature.  The blessing says, ‘Blessed are You Eternal our God Ruler of the Universe, who has such as these in Your world.’  This is a beautiful snap-shot that I see before me, and you have been my blessing.  Baruch Ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-olam, Shecacha lo b’olama, shecacha lo b’olamo.  Amen, Selah.  Thank you.

Clergy speak out for Gay Pride month

June is Pride month.  These days my attention is turned much more to highlighting and celebrating the diversity of all kinds within our Jewish communities.  In the past, some of our Jewish communities have specifically addressed the inclusion of interfaith families and GLBTQ Jews in their midst.  In recent months I’ve learned a great deal from my colleague and friend, Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder, Rabbi-in-Residence for Be’chol Lashon, that recognizing and responding to diversity goes far beyond these categories, to the inclusion of Jews of every ethnic background.  Our worldwide Jewish community has always been diverse, but our US-based community is becoming increasingly more diverse from immigration, adoption, conversion and the coming together of more mixed-ethnicity couples in marriage.  A new video from B’chol Lashon, featuring Y-love (below) shares this message:

But one of the important aspects of being a welcoming and inclusive community is not simply to acknowledge, welcome and celebrate the diversity that makes up our Jewish communities today.  If we really care about inclusivity, we need to be responsive to the hurts, the needs, and the injustices that may be faced by one part of our community.  For just as we cannot claim to be an economically diverse community that welcomes everyone to belong regardless of financial means if we do not make it possible in reality and do not see it is as our duty to provide additional support to our families in times of struggle, so we cannot claim to be truly inclusive and welcoming of any group if we are not responsive to their needs.

I recently heard a story of a Rabbi who had delivered a sermon on a Pride Shabbat that highlighted some of the injustices and inequalities still faced by loving same-sex couples because they cannot get married or their marriages are not federally-recognized.  Couples who are still faced with crippling financial ramifications when one dies and their partner inherits; couples who cannot gain access to each other when one is in the emergency room, and cannot make decisions on behalf of an incapacitated partner; couples who struggle to find affordable health insurance that is available to them as a family unit.  And the list goes on.  While the overwhelming majority of the community responded with compassion, recognizing that the Reform movement has long stood behind civil rights equality for same-sex couples, and recognizing the holiness of being a community dedicated to that work, a small minority felt it inappropriate material for a Rabbinic sermon.  But the wonderful ‘It Gets Better’ campaign this past year has helped us all understand that silence on the pain and inequalities facing GLBTQ people is more than just an omission of words; by making the individuals and the issues invisible in our communities we are failing in our duties to literally save the lives of some of our youth who don’t know who to turn to and what wonderful possibilities might lie ahead.  I spoke (and subsequently published in my blog here) about this specific issue some months back, and recently a colleague, Rabbi Andrea Myers, published an article on the Huffington Post entitled ‘It Gets Beautiful’, which I highly commend to you.

The seminary of the Union for Reform Judaism, Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, created their own ‘It Gets Better’ video, providing inspiring leadership.  More recently, the students at Yale Divinity School created a similar video project, reaching out to Christians who are looking for their spiritual home in a place that doesn’t require them to leave a piece of their soul at the door.  Both videos are below.
Blessings for a Pride month filled with inspiration, affirmation, and action.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Jewish History, Torah, and Rabbis in the Twitter Age

This is Jewish History Month.  As a High School student, History was always something that I loved to know and hated to learn.  What I mean by that is that I was always fascinated by the unfolding of events and the significance that one thing could have on another. I always loved social and cultural history especially – the way that people used to live.  But I’ve never been very good at remembering the facts.  In fact, one of my repetitive stress dreams used to be that it was just a few days from a major High School history exam (A levels – the exams in the UK that determine where you will go for University) and I am faced with two extra-thick lever files of handwritten notes that I have to memorize that consist of endless lists of dates and European wars.

We are blessed to live in an age when engaging with our history, learning, exploring, and studying, is more accessible than it has ever been.

This past week I have been having fun learning a great deal of history, and helping to share the amazing resources of the Encyclopedia of the Jewish Women’s Archives.  The full archives are online but, in a wonderful, innovative project using technology at its best, a team consisting of anyone who chooses to participate have been tweeting individual entries of the encyclopedia this month.  For those already using Twitter, just follow #jwapedia and you’ll be able to tune in to the entries being shared, re-tweet them to share them with your followers, and explore the encyclopedia yourself to take part in this community educational project.  If you don’t use Twitter, keep reading! I want to make the case for why you might want to get into Twitter, but first, here’s another great upcoming project to wet your appetite.

In the 24 hours leading up to Shavuot (which begins in the evening on June 6), many individuals are planning a mass Tweeting of verses and teachings from Torah.  As with any topic that you want to follow on Twitter, you’ll just be looking up #Torah.  The goal is to Tweet Torah to the top of the things that people are sharing on Twitter, just as we prepare for the peak experience of Receiving Torah again at Sinai when we reach Shavuot.  Its a great way to be reminded of the ‘greatest hits’ of Torah, and be introduced to lines, stories, characters, ethics and ideas that you might have never known were in Torah.

Here’s my case for why Twitter is something that might be for you (and at the bottom of this post will be some instructions to help you get started if you are new to this medium).

There are a number of organizations and publications whose materials I like to read online.  Some of them I receive via an email directly from them.  Others are things that I have ‘liked’ on Facebook and so, when they post something new, it will appear on my Facebook wall.  There are other great articles I am introduced to when Facebook friends post the links with words of encouragement about why others might want to read them too.  But the other way that I get great information is through the links to news, blogs, articles and TV interview clips that individuals and organizations post on Twitter.  It would be overwhelming for me to try and follow every single blog or publication that sometimes posts a particular piece that catches my attention.  But by following them on Twitter, I can log on, skim through the brief headings and descriptions that have been posted in the past couple of hours within a couple of minutes, and perhaps find 3 or 4 online articles that I’d really like to read.  Think of it as subscribing to a magazine where you are the Editor – you get to decide whose content you want to include.  Of course, as the author of a blog and local newspaper articles, its also a way to distribute things that I write more widely, but you can still get a lot out of Twitter even if you just want to be reader.

When you first open up a Twitter account, you can search for potential individuals or organizations to follow by general topic, but the best way to go is to zero in on someone who shares similar interests to you and then look at who they are following (much in the same way that you build up Friends lists on Facebook).  To make it even easier, many of us have created ‘Lists’ of categories of Tweeters.  So, for example, if you follow me @RabbiGurevitz, you’ll see that I have a list of Jewish organizations that I follow and Jewish professionals.  I also have a list of interfaith resources.  There are also several online resources that will tell you who some of the ‘top tweeters’ are in a particular field of interest, helping you to build your network of individuals and organizations that are of particular interest to you.

So, give it a go! See below for more info on how to get started.  Join the Jewish Women’s Archive #jwapedia project this month and learn about some fantastic Jewish Women who have done astonishing things.  Follow #Torah in the first week of June and immerse yourself in our Holy text and heritage to help get into a Shavuot state of mind.  And go and explore the great network of Jewish individuals and organizations who are sharing great ideas, great teaching, and great commentary on our community and world affairs on Twitter.

There are a number of good online tutorials for using Twitter.
http://mashable.com/guidebook/twitter/ takes you through every aspect, step-by-step.
If ‘seeing’ it done via video is more helpful, then check out the video below:


How To Use Twitter on Howcast

And, if you are a ‘local’ at B’nai Israel, and would like a personal demo, drop me a line and I’ll do what I can to help you get started.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

‘Today I am a Muslim Too’ – A Rabbi at the Times Square Rally

Equipped with a rain jacket and umbrella in anticipation of the damp afternoon forecast, I headed down to Stamford yesterday lunchtime to take a bus into New York City with members of the Institute for Islamic and Arabic Studies.  This is a diverse and wonderful Muslim community that draws members from across Fairfield County.  Members from this community were the first Muslims to partner with our Fairfield County ‘Tent of Abraham’ interfaith dialog group when we started our three-faith community programs 5 years ago.  We have since partnered with them many times, and their teenagers participate with our teenagers in an annual Teen Interfaith-Interaction program every Spring.

Why was I spending my afternoon with this community on a trip into New York City?  At relatively short notice, a multi-faith coalition had come together for a rally yesterday afternoon near Times Square to protest the congressional inquiry due to start this week, chaired by House Homeland Security Chair, Peter King, looking into Radicalized Islam in the USA.  King has claimed that Muslims within the USA are an increasing threat because they are being radicalized on our home turf, and Muslim communities are not cooperating sufficiently to identify and root out these radicalized elements.  It is important to know that these claims have been challenged by government departments who work with Muslim communities on a regular basis.  For a balanced article on this inquiry and the lead-up to it, a good piece in the Washington Post last week is worth reading.

As residents of Connecticut, in the wake of a fringe evangelical group parading outside a Bridgeport mosque shortly before Ramadan last year with placards declaring that ‘Islam is the Devil’, and a mosque in Hamden being vandalized last week for the third time in a year, the concern that Muslim American citizens are being targeted and victimized solely on the basis of their faith is something that should be of concern to everyone, but especially to other minority groups, faith-based or otherwise.  As Jews, we should always be especially concerned when we see anything that looks like government-sponsored stirring up of popular opinion and fear toward one group of citizens.  And King’s inquiry certainly looks like that to many people of faith.

The rally organized in New York City yesterday was an interfaith effort, with Muslim, Christian, Jewish and Buddhist speakers (apologies for any omissions).  Rabbis for Human Rights was one of the supporting organizations who tried to help get the word out at what was short notice to pull a rally together.  Nevertheless, despite the short time-frame and the appalling weather, about 500 people attended the rally.

My bus-ride down to the city was a wonderful opportunity to listen and hear about many of the experiences of the men, women and children who were attending the rally.  Mothers coming with their children because they don’t want their American-born children to grow up hearing from their government that they are somehow less American or more suspect because of the faith that they practice; friends who have reduced their international traveling because of the scrutiny and treatment they have experienced at the airports; debates that Muslims have among themselves about profiling (we were all of the opinion that one should profile for violent fanatics, and there are ways of better identifying potentially dangerous individuals, but faith or ethnicity were not very good indicators of these traits).  We also talked about what it was like for one Egyptian-born woman who just happened to have gone home to visit her sister when the Revolution happened; we talked about the ethical components of the Halal food industry (our Kashrut agencies could learn a lot from our Muslim colleagues on this issue).  And then we helped each other figure out what statements we wanted to put on the placards that our coordinator, Dolores, had brought, and what images would accompany them.

The placards turned out to be a wonderful idea, especially as the youth who were with us produced some beautiful and moving statements, simply put.  When we reached the rally we ended up in the front of a second area that had been partitioned off on the side of the road where the rally was taking place.  With their placards hanging over the barriers, a number of news channels and photographers came by to capture our group.  The ethnic backgrounds of the members enabled them to do interviews with the press in English, Spanish and Urdu.  Calmly we expressed our love for all peoples, and our objections to an inquiry that is divisive and detrimental to the safety of millions of American Muslims who are peace-loving; people we are proud to call our friends and neighbors.

The vibe was very positive, and we found ourselves engaged in conversations with others who had come to the rally; Muslim, Quaker, Christian, Jew.  There had been a very small group that identified themselves as tea-party connected who had intended to counter-demonstrate but they seemed to disperse quickly.  We found ourselves being greeted by one woman who was very concerned that we knew the Truth about Jesus and was not satisfied to hear Muslims tell her that they loved Jesus and the love that Jesus taught; our lack of belief in her particular understanding of Jesus was something that troubled her greatly.  We politely took her literature and were able to continue with our main purpose for being there when the wonderful police officer stationed at the front of our section politely suggested she move on.

A couple of hours later, the rally almost over, we made our way out.  The rally made but a small dent in the rhetoric that I am afraid we will have to listen to in the coming week.  Realizing that they could not stop the inquiry, many Muslims are now trying to participate so that they can communicate the message that they want to be heard; it is too dangerous to leave this inquiry in the hands of those who have already drawn dangerous conclusions devoid of factual information and seemingly unaware (or, God forbid, uncaring) about the potential consequences of their words to spur more violence against Muslim communities in the USA.

I urge all people of faith to speak out against King’s inquiry.  It is a misplaced and misguided response to the real, ongoing concerns about terrorism, fundamentalists and fanatics.  Targeting the entire American Muslim community is wrong, and dangerously so.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

What We Can Learn from Chelsea and Mark’s Interfaith Wedding

Since the ‘big wedding’ of the year, last weekend, I’ve had a number of people email me or facebook me and ask, ‘Rabbi, what do you think?’  I often think that one of the questions behind questions like this is ‘Is it good for the Jews?’  But I’m not sure if that’s the right question.

There is no question that such a celebrity, high-profile wedding that sees a Methodist Minister and a Reform Rabbi co-officiating together on a Saturday evening before sundown pushes a lot of buttons.  Reading many of the comments to blog pieces by Rabbis who have shown acceptance and have chosen to highlight the blessing that Jewish tradition and ritual was a part of a Clinton wedding, a lot of the buttons pushed have been those of Jews who see a wedding like this as an undermining of Judaism.  The Rabbi, James Ponet, who officiated is showered with insults (we often see him referred to as ‘rabbi’ by those who vehemently disagree with his decision to participate).

On the other hand, there are those whose buttons are pushed in a different direction – some are bloggers who are part of an interfaith relationship, or others who leave comments sharing how wonderful it was for them to be able to honor both of their faith traditions at this important life-cycle moment, or how painful it was to be unable to find someone who would do such a thing when they themselves had sought out someone.

Rabbi Irwin Kula, Co-President of CLAL, has both written on this topic and appeared yesterday on the Today Show to speak about interfaith marriage.  He used an image that I think conveys a reality that we see among some of the Chelsea/Mark generation rather well.  He said that some people today are choosing ‘the bazaar’ over ‘the cathedral’, by which he means that we see a growing trend toward picking and choosing rituals and spiritual wisdom from different places and not necessarily feeling a need or a pressure to 100% embrace one modality only.  And so, while we can certainly discuss whether or not we think this is ‘good’ (see, for example, the Editorial in this week’s Jewish Forward), the reality is that this is, and this is the American spiritual ‘marketplace’ that we are increasingly finding ourselves in.

‘So, Rabbi’, I am asked, ‘What do you think?’

Well, I think lots of things.  And I’m going to continue to be more descriptive than prescriptive in my thoughts.  Here are some things to bear in mind, which I hope will provide a useful framework for judging one’s own reaction to the news of Chelsea and Mark’s wedding and the co-officiation that took place:

1) Jewish law and tradition about marriage evolved out of an ancient biblical tradition.  What is now understood as a halachic Jewish wedding has it roots in practices that we find in the Torah, but is distinctly different from those practices.  As circumstances and the culture of the society around us has changed, so has Jewish practice.  We don’t, for example, continue to practice Levirate marriage (the practice of a brother of a deceased husband taking the widow as his wife).  The practice of having more than one wife was effectively banned within the European Ashkenazi tradition in the 11th century.  It continued in parts of the Sephardic world leading to a situation when families where a husband had multiple wives arrived from Yemen to the State of Israel in the 1950s, creating a conundrum for the fledgling state (they allowed these men to keep the wives they had, but could not marry more, and the law of the land became one wife only from then on).  We also know that marrying non-Jewish wives was commonplace in the Biblical state of Israel, although distinctly disapproved of by the spiritual leaders of the time (Ezra, for example, upon seeing the extent of intermarriage when he returned from the Babylonian exile after the destruction of the 1st temple, ruled that Jewish men should divorce their non-Jewish wives).

2) Even within rabbinic law, we can trace a debate among the early generations of Rabbis regarding intermarriage.  While it is clear that none approved, a majority recognized the outright prohibition as a rabbinic innovation, whereas the Biblical law only specified not marrying with the 7 Canaanite nations when the Children of Israel entered Canaan.  This is clearly about maintaining the identity and tribal integrity of this fledgling people, and maintaining a specific cultic code of practice that was distinct from the rituals, gods, and beliefs of the surrounding nations.

3) We sometimes hark back to a time when no-one would think of ‘marrying out’; the consequences were too severe – one would be cut off from one’s community and we remember a time when a parent would tear their clothes and mourn their child as if dead.  While there are some who wish our Jewish tradition and community held more influence over the cultural, spiritual and ethical lives of our young people today, most are grateful that most parents no longer act as if a child has died if they marry a non-Jew.  The truth is, the times we are harking back to are times before Napoleon provided the innovation of civil marriage.  While the change did not happen overnight, for centuries if a Jew married a non-Jew, the almost inevitable outcome was the conversion of the Jew to Christianity.  One could only get married in a Church or a Synagogue (or, in Muslim lands, in a Mosque).  Therefore, there was a stark reality to a Jew ‘marrying out’ truly being cut off from the Jewish community if they did this.  And this was an enormous loss to a parent, equivalent to the death of their child.

4) Now we live in a time when the stark and dramatic consequences of a Jew marrying a non-Jew is no longer so apparent.  For those concerned about the vibrancy and continuation of the Jewish community, these are real concerns.  Many Jews who marry non-Jews are lost from Jewish communal life, and their children are not raised with a Jewish identity (more often the case if a mother is not Jewish).  But we know that there are thousands of Jewish families in the USA where one parent is not Jewish.  Many are raising children who are actively engaged with the Jewish faith and community.  Speaking only of Congregation B’nai Israel, I have heard many passionate Confirmation speeches of youth of interfaith parents who are distinctly aware and proud of their decision to embrace Judaism and continue their learning to the end of High School.  I have friends and colleagues who grew up in an interfaith household who have gone on to become Rabbis and Jewish Educators.  We certainly cannot take the continuity of Jewish peoplehood and community for granted, but neither can we write off the families of interfaith couples.  They enrich our communities and strengthen us when they choose to make Jewish community their spiritual home, and that is something to celebrate.

5)  The decision of a Rabbi to officiate at the wedding of a Jew and a non-Jew is very complex and personal.
a) For many, it is black and white.  Halachah, as it has evolved over the centuries, does not recognize such a marriage as a Jewish marriage and, therefore, a Rabbi who is wedded to traditional halachah will not view their participation in such a wedding as a possibility.
b) There are those who will officiate if they believe what they are doing is part of welcoming a couple into the Jewish community.  Some make specific stipulations about expectations, or require the couple to attend an Introduction to Judaism class together, or provide them with a year’s free membership of the synagogue to help encourage their participation in communal Jewish life.  Others simply ensure that the conversation about faith in the home and hopes regarding the upbringing of children are discussed as part of pre-marriage counseling, and emphasize the importance of maintaining a commitment to their pre-marriage understandings.
c) There are still some others who will contemplate co-officiating with clergy of another faith because, while they recognize that this blending and mixing of traditions is a less likely route to an identified and engaged Jewish family unit, they feel that to deny the Jewish person who is authentically wanting to honor their faith and heritage, who clearly feels identified with it, is to counter-productively push them away.  There are times when it becomes clear that a young person has little personal investment, but is being pressured by parents to do ‘something Jewish’ – that is a more complex situation that requires pastoral guidance and counseling.  Many Rabbis would not contemplate officiating at a ceremony under these circumstances, while others see doing so as the means for them to gain access to the couple to engage in the kind of pastoral counseling that they need.

6)  A consideration of alternatives?  While I truly believe that each Rabbi has to come to terms with their own practices on the matter of officiating an interfaith marriage, and that a plurality of responses is ok because Jewish community is strengthened by being an open-sided tent with many entry points and many places within a spectrum to enable Jews (and their non-Jewish spouses) to find their place, I find it unhelpful to denigrate Rabbis who either do or don’t officiate.  Such knee-jerk reactions deny the complexity of the context in which clergy work in the USA today – ‘the bazaar’ that Rabbi Irwin Kula described – and the tensions between tradition and change that all Rabbis are constantly responding to (even Orthodox Rabbis – just see the recent statement about homosexuality from the Orthodox rabbinate recently released).  Rabbis who officiate are not facilitating the growth in interfaith marriage.  When a couple come to a Rabbi about a wedding, we do not have any influence on whether the marriage takes place or not.  There are Unitarian ministers, Interfaith ministers, Justice of the Peace, and ‘friends who have become Universal Life Ministers for the purpose of officiating at a marriage’, among the choices available in the spiritual and religious marketplace of North America today.  That is not necessarily a reason to acquiesce to the request – as I said, it is complex – but this is a reality.  This is not the world of the shtetl, or even of Twentieth century USA, where Jews were barred from some Universities, golf clubs, country clubs, residential areas etc.  To deny the relevance of any of this larger cultural context when considering questions of interfaith marriage is to leave out the landscape in which Jewish adults are living their lives today.

And so, I’ve attempted to describe the landscape.  I hope it provides useful food for thought for those who are considering their own perspectives on these issues, whether Rabbis or lay people.  And I invite your comments, additional perspectives, and thoughts to be posted here.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

Women who inspire: in honor of Rosh Hodesh Nisan

I grew up in a modern Orthodox synagogue in NW London.  The Jewish world that I was exposed to there was not one that I could continue to live in.  While I made my spiritual home in the progressive Jewish community, I am a firm believer in a pluralist Jewish community where a diversity of paths are followed.  Even while recognizing that we all place some boundaries around our concepts of Judaism, in most cases there is little to be gained when one path seeks to infringe on the religious expressions of another, or seeks to deny their validity within Klal Yisrael (the community of the Jewish people).

As I was re-entering Jewish life as a young adult, within the context of a progressive Jewish community, I did spend some time with Jewish women who remained affiliated with modern Orthodox communities who were intent on making change happen from within – seeking to have monthly women-only prayer services where women would be able to read from Torah, seeking an answer to the problem of agunot (women denied a religious divorce from their husbands which prevents them from remarrying), and seeking opportunities for serious Jewish study for women.  I admired their patience and determination, even as I was challenging the halachic foundations upon which limits were imposed on their ability to make change.

Today is Rosh Hodesh Nisan and we are less than two weeks away from Pesach – our festival of liberation and freedom.  The Exodus story begins with brave women who worked within the system to transform it – Yocheved, mother of Moses, and his sister, Miriam, and Shifrah and Puah, the midwives who disobeyed Pharaoh’s command to kill all the Jewish baby boys.  In their honor and memory, I share two youtube videos below that highlight the wisdom, determination, and bravery of women who today are helping to transform modern Orthodox Judaism from within.

First, a follow-up on the series of blogs we posted in December, in solidarity with Women of the Wall.  Over 100 women and 50 men were at their Rosh Hodesh morning service at the Western Wall this morning.  More and more Israelis are joining them each month.  This month they sang, and even danced in the women’s section before, as is necessary under the current Israeli Supreme Court ruling, they moved on to Robinson’s Arch for their Torah service.  Ultra-Orthodox men continue to shout abuse from the men’s side of the mechitza, and this time chairs were thrown, as evidenced in this clip.  Thankfully, no-one was hurt, and police did intervene to remove the men responsible for the violence.

Second, Sara Hurwitz speaks at the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance Conference (JOFA) in New York City.  Sara has been the focus of much ire in the Orthodox community, along with Rabbi Avi Weiss of Yeshivat Chovevei Torah and the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale, NY, when he gave her the title ‘Rabba’ to replace the previous title, ‘Maharat’, which had been an indication of Sara’s completion of the same course of study undertaken by Rabbis, and her position as a member of the clergy team at the Hebrew Institute.  Due to an inordinate amount of pressure and protest from some Orthodox bodies, the ‘Rabba’ title has been retracted.  But Sara Hurwitz remains on the clergy team and, as you will see from this edited video of her presentation at the conference, she continues to inspire and present herself with great dignity, and continued optimism for the future of women’s learning and leadership within the Orthodox Jewish community.
Yasher Kochech! – May you have strength!
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz

The power of inclusion & exclusion: in solidarity with Women of the Wall

Part of a solidarity blog series for Women of the Wall.  Each piece is written by a member of the Rosh Hodesh group of Congregation B’nai Israel.  Tonight’s blog is by Heidi Gassel.

My first memories of Templeare sitting high in a balcony with other children and women during Purim. I remember being sad that I couldn’t be with my daddy who was sitting below with all of the other men. I looked at my bright polka dotted grogger but it just wasn’t fun. Even though I was just three years old, I still remember crying “Dada” and my mother comforting me. My father died unexpectedly of pneumonia just five months later.
My mother continued to bring all four of us to the orthodox synagogue. She made sure that her three daughters and son were involved in the Orthodox Synagogue and part of the community. She encouraged my then teenaged sisters to be active in the youth group and they ran for office. My sisters ran for Treasurer and Secretary and won. Even though they were active in their jobs, they still had to sit up away from the men. I continued to ask why we were not allowed to sit on the main floor. I remember feeling left out and not as important as the men.
One night, after a youth group meeting my mother noticed that some teenaged boys from New Havenwere about to head home during a giant snowstorm. We lived near Mystic, CT and this is not a short ride especially for an inexperienced driver. My mother insisted that the boys stay with us where they could be safe – she probably saved their lives. The boys had guitars, sat by the fire and had a sing a-long with all of us. I was only four but I remember feeling very spiritual about the jewish melodies they sang.
The boys slept downstairs, the girls slept upstairs; it was very innocent. The snow was cleared by the morning and the boys got home safe and sound. Shortly after, my mother got a call from the Synagogue. She was called a brazen hussy, she was told she was no longer welcomed in the orthodox synagogue and that her daughters were no longer elected officials for the youth group. My sisters were devastated.
I didn’t know about this until some years later when my sister Michele, alav hashalom (may she rest in peace), was on her death bed. She told me the entire story, from her perspective. We had just had an argument about organized religion. I then realized that the day the orthodox community denounced her and our family, was the very day that she no longer wanted to practice Judaism. That was the day the jewish community lost my sister. Two very strong, smart and spiritual jewish people were lost due to such sexist standards and that’s really a shame.
My siblings are much older than I am. My mother joined a Conservative temple. I was happy sitting with everyone else. A year later, a reformed temple opened up in Groton. It was at the Reform temple that I felt connected for the very first time. The Rabbi was young and funny. I remember waiting for each of his sermons…I remember sitting on the edge of my seat and then falling off in laughter as he performed puppet shows. His sermons challenged me, provoking thought…I was only six or seven years old! The cantor played guitar, it was wonderful.
We stayed with this Templetill I was 12. We were very poor in a rather wealthy community. I found acceptance from the Rabbi. One day he announced that he was moving away. I remember crying. One day, shortly after he had gone I was attending hebrew school. My teacher was female and a mother of one of the other children. She made a callous comment about my clothing and snickered at the fact that I wore the same clothing last week. We didn’t have money for a big wardrobe and it was bad enough that I got these comments at public school but to receive it from a grown woman from our congregation…was humiliating.
I told my mother I wasn’t going back. And I didn’t. I was not to be Bat Mitzvah-ed. I would not be wearing the tallit. I remember seeing my brother’s Tallit and Tefillin when he was Bar Mitzvah-ed in the conservative temple. The Tallit was passed down to him. It was my understanding that I would not get to wear a Tallit in the conservative temple; my brother told me how special the tefillin was and told me not to touch it.
When I was 18, I moved to Chicago on my own. I did not know a soul there. I was lonely and yet one Friday night I walked into a synagogue. I didn’t know anything about the synagogue but I just walked in. And, I was home. The music was universal…it didn’t matter what sex I was…it didn’t matter what denomination it was. I was home when I was there. I would go from synagogue to synagogue. And I always felt like I was home when I heard the music.
I met my soulmate a few months after moving to Chicago. One day I was talking to his niece. She told me of her Rabbi and how he inspired her. She told me he was funny and thought provoking all at once. As I was about to tell her that he sounded like my childhood Rabbi the words “Rabbi Knobel” flowed out of both of our mouths simultaneously! Over a thousand miles away, and there he was…my childhood rabbi!
I went back to hebrew school and started to learn again. Unfortunately I had just joined a touring post alternative band and wasn’t able to continue. I do plan on going back someday. I do want to read Torah and I do want to wear the Tallit. I feel fortunate to be in a day and age when I will have the opportunity to wear a Tallit and that our daughter will be able to as well. I have seen many beautiful tallitot and admire the art.

Rabbi Peter Knobel and Cantor Jeff Klepper,1983 

In 1997, Rabbi Knobel married us and Cantor Klepper played melodic guitar at our wedding. It was the same music I remembered from childhood. My very favorite memory of our wedding is when the Rabbi wrapped the tallit around me and my bashert. We were soul-mates, foreheads touching, wrapped in beautiful judaic culture, wrapped in history, wrapped in a tallit I felt safe and at one with my bashert. It is a beautiful memory.
It wasn’t until we had our daughter that I realized some things about being a Jewish girl in 1960’s America. We had a really nice naming for Madison Michele who is named after my late sister. But I found out that in the 50’s and 60’s when my sisters and I were born, just my father went to the synagogue to name us. It’s kind of sad to think of the birth of a daughter as being less significant than the birth of a son. I’m happy to be a part of a community where I can sit where I want, wear what I want, and to be a mother who can tell her children that we all have these opportunities. Our daughter and son can sit with us and wear what they want and enjoy the sermons and music of a male Rabbi, a female Rabbi and a female Cantor.

My First Tallit: In solidarity with Women of the Wall

Part of a solidarity blog series for Women of the Wall.  Each piece is written by a member of the Rosh Hodesh group of Congregation B’nai Israel. Tonight, Rabbi Gurevitz shares a reflection:

I grew up in an Orthodox synagogue.  As a young teen, I watched the boys in front of the mechitzah with envy.  I wanted to be fluent in reciting prayers that no-one ever taught me.  I wanted to wrap myself in a tallit and cover my head to have intimate conversations with God.  I was not permitted to partake, and so I chatted with friends, I yawned, I ignored the hushes when our voices rose too much – what did they care?  Our voices didn’t count anyway.


Fast-forward 13 years.  In adult bat-mitzvah classes with a woman rabbi.  We studied texts and made tzitzit.  We talked about wrapping ourselves with the presence of the Shechinah.  We talk about the tzitzit connecting us to the covenant and our heritage.  Our heritage.  I am invited to reclaim my heritage.


In an ethnic arts and crafts store in Swansea, Wales.  Hanging on the wall – a large cloth, banded with stripes, like a Tallit.  But these bands are fire orange and black.  And, at the boundaries of the fire and the black, the colors merge – not hard, firm boundaries, but blurred, permeable boundaries.  This is my tallit – my first tallit.


It transforms my prayer and, soon, it will transform my life.


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