Category: Religious Action Center
This article was cross-posted at the Rabbis Without Borders Blog at myjewishlearning.com
Images from Oak Creek, Wisconsin |
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.
This Shabbat we were blessed with some very good news from our government. Finally, the policy, ‘Don’t Ask Don’t Tell’ has been repealed. This is the policy by which men and women who serve in our Armed Forces who are gay or lesbian could only do so at the cost of keeping this part of their identity secret. It meant much more than simply not talking about it; it meant being especially careful about where they were and who they were with in public space in their time off too – anything that might be construed as a public revelation of their sexual identity.
Lt. Dan Choi, a courageous advocate for repealing DADT |
The Reform movement took on this issue as a social policy matter that our Religious Action Center lobbied on because it was matter of basic decency and human rights that this discriminatory policy be abolished. But it is also a spiritual matter. Perhaps what has troubled and yes, even angered, me the most about the debates that have been heard on the Senate floor, is the complete lack of comprehension of what it means to ask someone, and especially someone who lives in the kind of closed environment of an army barrack or base, to hide one piece of the essence of who they are. Sen. James Inhofe (R-Okla), for example, was quoted in the press as having stated: “I was shocked at how well this has worked for a long period of time,” Inhofe said. “We have a saying in Oklahoma, ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.’ Well, this isn’t broke, it’s working very well.”
The Senator clearly has absolutely no concept of what it feels like to be hiding in public as a gay man or lesbian woman. He clearly has no inkling of the effect it has on the nature of one’s friendships, one’s relationship to parents, grandparents and siblings, to be keeping a piece of oneself secret for fear that the information may become public and bring an end to one’s career. And the Senator clearly cannot imagine how, when one no longer has to hide, the ability to simply fully ‘be’ is a soul-expanding, spiritual experience. Whatever one’s faith, the ability to be whole, and the inner peace that comes with a sense of the integration of the parts of one’s life, and the ability to be fully present to others in the sense of the spiritual ‘I-Thou’ relationship that Martin Buber wrote of in his famous book of the same name… this is as central an aspect of the spiritual life as any other I can think of.
I am delighted that this terrible policy is now gone. I look forward to seeing it bear further fruits as it becomes equally evident that other things denied gay men and lesbian women by the Federal government, purely on the basis of sexual identity, simply have no place in a modern, civilized democracy in a country that claims that all citizens are equal under law.
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz
In the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah, and over this past weekend, amidst the noisy and negative voices whipping up fear, anger and hate in our country, there have been many beacons of light emerging from voices of faith, speaking up for Religious Freedom, pluralism, tolerance, and compassion.
Here are just a couple of examples that have been brought to my attention. First, organized by 5th year rabbinical student at Hebrew Union College, New York (and son of our Senior Rabbi, Jim Prosnit), Jonathan Prosnit organized a group of some 40 students and faculty, including the Dean, Rabbi Shirley Idelson, to peacefully march from Hebrew Union College to Park 51 last week, in support of the proposed Muslim community center. He writes a report of the event, originally posted at the blog of the Religious Action Center:
For the HUC representatives the walk was an opportunity to affirm America as a beacon of Freedom of Religion. Upon reaching Park 51 the group was invited into the building and warmly greeted in the temporary prayer room at Park 51. Employees of Park 51 greeted each of the HUC participants individually and said that rally and the presence of so many, helped lift the spirits of those associated with Park 51.
Seminarians echoed the words of the great social justice warrior
Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and said that by rallying in support of tolerance and peace they were “praying with our feet.”- the RAC helped convene an important summit of American religious leaders to focus on religious freedom and the recent wave of Islamophobic activity in the United States. The joint statement we issued is available here, and you can watch a video of the press conference here. Also, the New York Times had a good report on the meeting, which you can read here.
- We also participated in a meeting with Attorney General Eric Holder on this issue yesterday. You can read the joint press release about that meeting here.
The following is cross-posted from Dr. Lisa Grant’s blog, ‘Israel Stories’. Lisa is Professor of Education at Hebrew Union College and is currently on sabbatical in Israel. She is a member of our congregation. In her blog she shares reflections on some of her experiences. In this, her latest posting, Lisa reflects on the experience of using public transportation in Israel, and brings attention to the gender-segregated public bus routes that run through ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods that have literally put women at the back of the bus. The Israel Religious Action Center and other Israeli human rights organizations are fighting this very troubling turn to religious extremism in the public sphere in Israel.
One of the simple pleasures of being on sabbatical in Jerusalem is that my main mode of transportation is my feet. I also take the bus a lot, especially since the trip to school is uphill from my apartment and I’m usually carrying books and my computer. When I stay in town, my circuit is pretty small, probably not much more than one and a half square miles or so. In that space, I can find all of my local friends, school, shuls, theatres and other cultural venues, the gym (of course!) and any shopping I want or need to do. For someone who spends an awful lot of time commuting back and forth to New York City during my “normal” life, this is a lovely respite that adds lots of extra hours to my week for other pursuits.
There are times, of course, when this narrow orbit feels a bit constrained and then I head to Tel Aviv, usually by sherut, a 10-passenger shared taxi that goes from downtown Jerusalem to the central bus station in Tel Aviv which makes the Port Authority bus station in New York look like a luxury spa. From there, I then take another interesting conveyance, a shared mini-bus that drops you off anywhere you’d like along a specified route.
Occasionally, I get rides from friends who take me home after an evening visit, or even if they see me standing at a bus stop. It’s those rides that make me think about how different it is seeing Jerusalem and the rest of Israel from inside a private car as compared to from one or another mode of public transportation.
The buses and shared taxis are windows into the rich and complex social fabric of this not altogether Jewish state. On any given bus trip, you are likely to see a wide range of skin colors and hear a polyglot of languages including Hebrew, Arabic, English, Russian, French, Spanish, German, Portuguese and who knows what else. The passengers are schoolchildren, the elderly, commuters, tourists, soldiers, foreign workers, certainly rabbis and even a few priests. It’s one of the few places where a Jew might sit next to an Arab, not that they’d actually speak to one another.
Now, if I really lived here and wasn’t just a part-time sojourner, I know I’d have a car and that would change a lot. I got a taste of that this past weekend when I rented a car and was able to visit four different friends who live in suburbs of Tel Aviv and Netanya and in the lower Galilee. It felt great to be in a peppy little car where I could set my route and schedule, going wherever and whenever I wanted. But, it also made me realize that being in a private car creates a buffer to the outside world. The only link is the radio that gives regular traffic bulletins and news on the hour that reports the usual murder and mayhem but of quite a different ilk from what you’d hear on a typical American FM station – rockets fired from Gaza to a field outside of Ashkelon, IDF soldiers killing two Palestinian teenagers in Nablus who attacked them with a pitchfork, a Supreme court ruling overturning a Jewish town’s attempt to block a Bedouin family from moving in. But all of this is just background noise when you are zipping along the super highway and mainly concerned that the drivers around you won’t do anything crazy or stupid.
The car radio is a disembodied voice; in contrast, the bus is a live performance. Phone etiquette is pretty much non-existent and at times, it seems as if everyone is talking on the phone. If they aren’t talking, they’re eating, and if they aren’t eating, they might be davening tehilim (psalms) or studying a daf gemara (page of Talmud).
Private transportation is personal and liberating. It’s also protected. It’s up to you where to go and when to stop. Public transportation demands more direct engagement with the world. You have to accommodate more to the route & schedule. Of course you can plug into your IPod and tune out but if you pay attention, you see things you might otherwise ignore, the throngs who converge at the central bus station, and constant reminders of the persistence of poverty among Israel’s underclass – Ethiopians, Arabs, foreign workers, African refugees, and many many more.
Public transportation is also supposed to be fully and equally accessible to all members of society and that what I normally see when I climb onto a bus or sherut. But, sadly, even this basic right is at risk here. Last Saturday night I went to a demonstration with an estimated 2000 other people to protest the increasing number of gender segregated bus lines. The impetus for this comes from the Ultra-Orthodox community whose male members find it objectionable to have any kind of social contact with women so they have been relegated to the back of the bus, literally and truly. There are currently between 58 and 63 such gender-segregated inner and intra-city routes. In some cases, the only option for travelers is to sit in a gender segregated section regardless of who their travel companions might be. Despite condemnation by the Supreme Court , the Transportation minister and the quasi- public bus company continue the practice.
Though the abuse that Women at the Wall receive on a monthly basis from Ultra-Orthodox men when they gather to pray on Rosh Chodesh is getting a lot more press (at least in blogs and Facebook), these segregated bus lines are a far more insidious erosion of democratic values and respect for human rights that effect people daily not just for an hour or once a month. The demonstration was a hopeful sign that people are waking up to the reality that segregated bus lines are not just an issue for those who can’t afford a car. The gathering was a wonderful mix of Orthodox, Secular, Conservative, and Reform Jerusalemites. It was organized by a broad-based coalition of human rights organizations including a new forum of young adults who are active in building bridges across different social and religious sectors and working together to make Jerusalem a more tolerant and pluralistic city.
There were all kinds of signs and placards at the demonstration and the requisite number of speeches from activists and politicians. Perhaps the most compelling sign was a small, hand-made one that said something like “Segregated bus lines is an issue for the entire country, not just Jerusalem.” Indeed, even for those who never step up onto a bus, this issue gets to the bedrock of what it means to live in a civil society where everyone has equal rights. As such, it seems that it’s high time for everyone to get out from behind the protection of their private cars and join the cacophony of the daily show of life on the public routes and buses of Israel.
Last night I sat and watched the State of the Union address, along with millions of others in the USA and beyond. As I listened to what was surely an impressive speech – a call to action, a call to unity, outlining so many specifics with clarity, passion and care, I found myself reflecting on the nature of political discourse in the USA and contrasting it with my experience back in the UK. There isn’t really an equivalent in the UK – the closest might be Queen Elizabeth’s speech to Parliament upon its opening. Culturally, it could not be more different. Take a look at this youtube of the address in November 2009 (and if you’d like to enjoy the pomp and circumstance of the ritual surrounding the opening of Parliament, you can click on the option to watch direct on the Youtube site, and then look at some of the related links):
In truth, I do not remember a year when I lived in the UK when I actually watched this. It certainly was not a family affair; we did not sit and discuss, or listen to TV pundits dissecting the speech, or the response to the speech in the chamber (as you can see, there would be little to discuss on this latter point).
But it is the engagement with the political process, the amount of commentary and response to the content of the State of the Union speech, both immediately after and today in newspapers, blogs, and online magazines throughout today that, as an ‘import’ from the UK I find so engaging and interesting. While there are times when I find the degree of political parsing here over-the-top and a barrier to good common sense where the priority is to get things done (which I was pleased to hear President Obama call attention to last night), the level of political engagement in this country is, by and large, quite remarkable.
I do not plan to offer my own thoughts on the specifics of last night’s address – there are many others far better qualified to do so. But I would commend listening to a selection of some of our leading Jewish activists respond by watching the youtube below – among them Rabbi Jonah Pesner of Just Congregations, and Rabbi David Saperstein, Director of the Religious Action Center.
Tomorrow, I leave with a group of this year’s Confirmation class to our annual L’Taken Social Justice Seminar with the Religious Action Center in Washington D.C. It is an exciting time to go, so close to the State of the Union speech. Our teens will learn about some of the social justice issues that Reform Judaism engages with as we seek, as Jews, to improve our world, and how they take form in the political arena through the legislative process. They will learn why Reform Judaism teaches about these issues, and how we read Jewish sources to create our visions, and they will learn how to lobby their Representatives in ways that demonstrate why we care about their votes on a variety of upcoming legislation.
Again, reflecting on my UK experience, such a program would have been unheard of when I lived there. Jewish communities would speak out on issues that directly affected specifically Jewish things, but rarely would you see a community or a Jewish denomination speak on an issue that went beyond that narrow remit. We might teach about the issues in general, but making a direct connection to the legislative agenda of Parliament at any particular time was rare. But look at the issues that our students will have a chance to learn about this weekend:
Homelessness, Environmental issues, inequality for low-income households, reproductive rights, health care reform, GLBT equality in the workplace, immigration reform, and international relations.
All of these issues effect our lives, the lives of those in the communities where we live, our futures, and our world. As Reform Jews in the USA, one of the strengths of our movement is our ability to speak with relevance on all matters that affect our lives, and we are called to do justice, inspired by the prophetic tradition, for all in the society we live in – especially the weakest and the poorest. We want our students to grow up to be good citizens as well as good Jews. We want them to be educated and empowered to take their place among those who were engaged in debate and analysis after hearing the State of the Union address last night, ready to respond to the President’s charge: ‘Let’s get it done!’
Rabbi Rachel Gurevitz
It was reported today in The Forward that Anat Hoffman, founding member of Women of the Wall and Director of the Israel Religious Action Center, was interrogated by police in relation to the group’s prayer gathering at the Kotel in December for Rosh Chodesh Tevet, the month after Nofrat Frankel had been arrested at the wall. The article begins: