by Ruben Rais
“Wonder rather than doubt is the root of all knowledge.” -Abraham Joshua Heschel
What does Judaism need to survive? I have spent a lot of time thinking about this question in the past few years. I am not the first, and surely will not be the last to ponder the thought. It seems we Jews have been obsessed with our own continuity since the very beginnings, constantly anguishing at the possibility of our own demise.
I have lived extensively in Colombia, Israel, and the U.S. and have seen this fear play out in various ways. The community in Colombia is a tiny one, only around 3,000 people. As such, it is intermarriage that is perceived as the biggest threat. “Oy vey”, if someone even dates a non-Jew! The whole community becomes somehow involved. Everyone knows about it. Everyone has an opinion. Rabbis teach against it. Grandparents suffer. Moms gossip. Jealous bachelors look on in spite. Everyone seems to secretly hope that the relationship will somehow draw to an end. It can get pretty intense.
The situation in the U.S. seems to be a similar one. Everyone is alarmed by high rates of intermarriage and low rates of affiliation. The response is different though. It is less personal and more institutional. Everything involving Jewish life in the United States is on a grander scale. In the past years there has been an unprecedented proliferation of new Jewish programs and initiatives. Everyone is trying to figure out how best to cultivate and strengthen Jewish identity. There are myriads of programs ranging everywhere from trips to Israel to Jewish farming initiatives. Insane amounts of money are being poured into these efforts (think Birthright).
Israel of course is a bit of a different story. Jewish survival here is inextricably linked to the security and prosperity of the State. Intermarriage is not an issue. It is war, politics, and diplomacy that take center stage. Anti-Semitism that’s seen as the biggest enemy. It is strengthening the Israeli army, strengthening the Israeli economy, and strengthening Israel’s image abroad, which are seen by most as the keys to Jewish survival.
Great. So what?!? This entire amateur analysis begs an even more important question than Jewish survival: What’s the point?? Why does it matter that Judaism survive??
A few weeks ago I received an e-mail from Rabbi Elie Kaunfer, who I had the fortune of having as a Talmud teacher this past summer at Yeshivat Hadar in New York. In the e-mail he shared a speech he gave at the General Assembly of the JFNA (Jewish Fededations of North America) in which he said the following:
I want to push us forward by challenging one of those old assumptions: Jewish continuity is the end goal, and everything is in service of that goal…Our theory is: Strengthen Jewish identity, and Judaism will continue. But here’s the problem with that theory: In our zeal to ensure the Jewish future, we forgot to articulate why it matters for Judaism to continue.
Rav Elie’s words hit me square in the chest. How did I ignore this question for so long? How did I become so immersed in the discourse of Jewish continuity without first taking heed of this most important of questions? I am not sure. I don’t know how I missed it. But I do want to take a moment and offer my initial thoughts on the matter, now that the question has begun to consume me.
Rav Elie continues to say in his speech: “Judaism offers a system, a covenantal language, a heritage and tradition that responds to the human need for meaning, substance and connection”. I too have come to believe this. Judaism matters because it is a source of meaning. It is a system and a language, steeped in tradition and world culture. It offers a living dialogue to those who engage with it. A dialogue rich in wisdom and spirituality, with which to tackle the most pressing questions about our world and our role in it.
We live in a time of infinite possibilities. Yet despite our achievements, despite all the information available at our fingertips, most of us are still acheing to respond to the most basic yet intricate of questions. Is there meaning to life? How should I lead my life? How should I treat others? How do I make sense of suffering?
These are the questions that Judaism responds to. These are the questions that Torah responds to. These are the questions that the Rabbis respond to. These are the questions that Jewish thinkers have grappled with for centuries. These are the questions that Jewish communities around the world have grappled with.
Unless Jewish communities, in Bogota, Miami, Tel Aviv, or anywhere else, are able to respond to these questions, to the individual’s need for personal and communal meaning, then I am not sure if discussions about Jewish continuity are even relevant. Moreover, it is precisely through this re-opening of Jewish thought, debate, and tradition, that communities might find the key to revitalize their communities.
The issue in Colombia is not intermarriage. The issue is that the community has become so insular that young people are pushed away. The issue is that the community is not responding to young people’s needs. The issue is that the community often does not uphold the values that many of us have come to hold dear. The issue is that many young people have come to see Judaism as antiquated, bigotted, and uninspiring.
The issue in the United States is not a lack of Jewish identity. The issue is that there is no meat to it. The issue is that many of these programs are able to instill Jewish identity, but fail to give young people the tools to wrestle with that identity in a deeper way. The issue is that Judaism is everpresent in American life and culture, but few people seem to know what it’s about.
The issue in Israel is not just security and diplomacy. The issue is a growing failure in education. The issue is that young people are being motivated to fight for flag, land, and country, rather than to seek out justice and community. It is no wonder Israeli society is becoming more extreme. It is no wonder that many young Israelis are fed up with the project alltogether.
As individuals we must strive to articulate a meaningful vision for Jewish life. As communities we must strive to make room for the individual. As communities we must re-open the floor for genuine, thoughtful learning and debate. Let us push ourselves to understand this gnawing in our bellies that we call Judaism. Not because we have to. Not because it will please our grandparents. Let us push ourselves because its fun. Let us push ourselves because it will guide us in our intellectual and spiritual journeys. Let us push ourselves because we want to.
by Aaron Kalman
Stop foreign funding to Israeli NGO’s. This slogan was pushed to legislation by a few members of the Israeli Knesset, and it started a large public debate over the morals of the proposed law and its necessity. A week after it started, the process was halted by PM Netanyahu. Shortly after, another bid was made; this time to limit petitions to the Supreme Court so that only people directly affected by an act (be it legislation or having their rights seemingly violated by the police/government) could petition against it – a move that will stop any petition by NGO’s or other third parties. Also this proposition was taken off the table by PM Netanyahu.
These legislative pushes caused a great uproar in the NGO sector, and understandably so. No one wants to see their budget cut, or their ability to appeal limited, especially not in what looks like a political move to try and limit certain groups. 
But at the same time the legislation raised a large and loud public debate over foreign governments and multi-government organizations (such as the EU) being directly involved in internal Israeli politics.
Even though it’s hard for some people to understand, most countries have various limits on how other countries can give money to causes within them. The need to limit the ability of foreign countries to intervene in Israel’s internal political world is a real one.
There is no other country in the world that has so many countries meddling in its internal politics, and many countries have legal limits on the financial involvement that is allowed. Recently monetary laws regarding NGO’s were passed in Georgia and Sri Lanka. No one spoke out against these countries rights to legislate regarding organizations operating within their sovereignty. However, once the topic was on the table in Israel it was addressed by many, including the EU and the US.
When a country wants to donate large amounts of money towards a project in Norway, the donation has to be approved by the Norwegian foreign ministry. In January of 2011, this regulation was used to stop the Saudi Arabian government from donating money towards building a mosque. I wonder how certain people would have reacted if Israel acted like Norway.
However, the outcry by the NGO’s is a real one, especially because the initial law did not differentiate between different types of organizations. Some organizations are not as politically involved as others, and most of their energy and resources are directed at human rights and social justice, not at attacking government policy. Most (if not all) of the activists in places such as ‘Rabbis for Human Rights’ are there because they wish to do justice – which sometimes has to be done with political acts. But this is not always the case.
Many of these organizations are more political oriented than socially oriented (need I mention Robert Bernstein’s – founder of Human Rights Watch – own article?), and the proposed laws are mainly meant to stop them. Let as look at ‘Breaking the Silence’ (BtS), an NGO started by Israelis in order to stop acts of brutality and abuse towards Palestinians. As such, the organization states “we endeavor to stimulate public debate […] with the aim of giving the Israeli public access to the reality which exists minutes from their homes“. This is a good cause – as someone who serves in a reserve combat unit, I think keeping soldiers moral is a remarkable goal, and one important for the future of Israel and it’s the people who live here.
However – this organization spends a large percentile of its resources directed towards campaigning against Israeli policy around the world. Amongst others, the organization has addressed officials from Pakistan and the United Arab Emirates – countries who don’t (and refuse to) recognize the state of Israel. After the organization published a statement about ‘war crimes’ in Gaza – with the soldiers and sources remaining anonymous and untraceable – even the Haaretz newspaper (a paper recognizable as the “home court” of the Israeli left) published an article about BtS being a political body, not a human rights one. Amongst other things the following description is given: “Breaking the Silence, founded in 2004 by veterans of the second intifada, has a clear political agenda, and can no longer be classed as a “human rights organization.” Any organization whose website includes the claim by members to expose the “corruption which permeates the military system” is not a neutral observer.”
An even more relevant and irritating example can be seen when looking the B’tselem organization, who state about themselves: “B’Tselem acts primarily to change Israeli policy in the Occupied Territories and ensure that its government, which rules the Occupied Territories, protects the human rights of residents there and complies with its obligations under international law.”
In fact, this organization was recognized by the Danish PL foundation as one worthy of receiving its annual human rights prize – alongside Al Haq. That’s right; the group will receive a joint prize with a Palestinian organization headed by terrorists. Just so it’s clear – we’re not talking about someone who Israel thinks of as dangerous, but people the world recognize as such. The head of Al-Haq, Jabarin, can’t fly to receive the award since Israel and Jordan won’t give him visas. Also the US doesn’t really trust this group, and in 2010 the FBI subpoenaed a former employee of it.
So where do we stand? We have groups who want to help people and make sure they get all the rights they deserve. On the other hand, we have some people who hide behind the title ‘human rights’ and campaign against Israel. The problem is real, but in my opinion the suggested legislation is not the way to solve the problem.
In fact, I think this is only a fraction of a larger problem.
In my opinion this is a small issue that belongs to a wider topic, a topic I’ve been thinking of for a few months now. The question is whether it is possible to hold a social justice movement and still be in favor of nation states? This means recognizing and giving certain groups some benefits that others won’t receive. More specifically, can one be active in humanitarian organizations and still support Israel as the national home of the Jewish people, and as such be willing to accept certain privileges’ given to one group and not to other citizens?
Let me emphasize that I am not talking about taking away basic rights, which all human people deserve. I’m talking about additional rights and privileges’ (like the ability to purchase land – a problem that non Jews face in Israel, and Jews face when trying to purchase land in the PA).
This summer and fall saw many people (most of them young) go to the streets and demand economic justice. It happened in Israel when hundreds of thousands decided they’d had enough and started to protest until Israel saw its largest ever demonstrations. Also the people of Spain seemed to be fed up with their current situation, and they too voiced their opinion. The Occupy Wall Street movement started in New York but quickly spread all over the US, with tens of thousands of people joining in. 
One of the axiomatic assumptions for all these movements, is that there is an inherit need – rather a right – for and to equality. Without taking that assumption, protestors can’t call for the closing of gaps in society – the only justification to doing so is the thought that people are equal and one of the governments jobs is to help maintain that (to an extent).
But these blessed and just causes also saw people using their slogans to call for more drastic political action. In Israel the young people decided not to address political issues that would split them into smaller groups, and many people (including this blogs contributor Ruben) found it disturbing that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was not mentioned in a rally about justice.
After the main protests died out, some Israeli groups started to mix political messages into the social ones. One group stated (the translation is mine) “If I’m fighting for rights, I must fight for all peoples rights […] I can-not say human rights and disregard the Palestinian“. The message is clearer as you read on “left is an ideology in which the individual, life, body and wellbeing is of greater value than the state“. This statement moves from the individual to the group, to the state – and in its context can be read of as questioning the Jewish one.
A more extreme case of political activists surfing the social wave was seen in Boston, when people who claimed to belong to the OWS movement (Occupy Boston) ‘occupied’ the Israeli consulate. As can be seen in the video below, the chants and calls had nothing to do with the economic protest going on.
I spent this past summer (2011) at Yeshivat Hadar of Mechon Hadar, an egalitarian Yeshiva. The concept of an egalitarian Jewish world is one under much public discussion lately (I’m in favor, at least in most aspects). However, even those who preach for all out equality between men and women within the Jewish world of learning and prayer, still make a distinction between the Jew and the non Jew.
During the program a fellow student, who is very involved and active in Social Justice programming, asked me how we could claim to be egalitarian when making a conscious distinction between the two. I told her I believed in nationality and the legitimacy of it – even if at times it meant not all people were treated equally in all fields.
Aaron Kalman was born in Jerusalem to parents who met there after making Aliyah, and has lived there his entire life. After High-school he spent three years studying Jewish texts in various frameworks, and an additional three years serving as a combat soldier in the IDF. Currently in his last year of perusing a B.Ed, he hopes to share the day to day life of Israelis with those who usually only hear about Israel when it headlines the news.
By Jessica Yousseffi
Jesus is with the 99%, reads one bumper sticker, and it looks like Muhammed, Moses and the Buddha are also joining the international Occupy Wall Street bandwagon. A Faith and Spirituality tent at Occupy Boston serves as an interfaith space for everything from Christian, Jewish and Muslim prayer services, to non-faith based meditation and yoga workshops. There are protest chaplains in New York and DC, and Muslims have gathered in the parks for public jummahs (prayer). Thousands of Jews attended Yom Kippur services, and sukkahs, temporary huts, have been pitched in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, D.C., Atlanta, Oakland, Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle, and London. Jewish activists have even united under the label Occupy Judaism, which I tried mapping using Storify. The religious component of the movement is undeniable and keeping track of all the activities has become a near impossible task.
Why are religious groups involved in OWS? That might be a genuine question for many who are accustomed to seeing Jesus invoked at Tea Party rallies, but personally I can’t imagine a protest in support of the poor and oppressed without a strong religious presence. It’s not only a natural alliance for many religious people, it’s their faith in action.
Read More Post a comment (0)by Aaron Kalman
Gilad Shalit returned home. After five years and four months in the hands of those who kidnapped him from within Israel (June 25th, 2006) he was held by his parents, kissed by his brother. Millions cried watching the television.
I am writing shortly after watching Gilad Shalit enter his home for the first time after 1,942 days. It still is a time of mixed feelings.
Israel’s bringing Gilad home marks a day of conflicting emotions for many of us young Israelis. Being part of a nation willing to release over one-thousand prisoners in exchange for one soldier is a great source of national pride, but also a source for questioning ourselves and our moral spine.
I am confused; I am full of contradicting emotions and thoughts.
The fact that Aviva and Noam Shalit (Gilad’s mother and father) can go to sleep knowing what their son had for dinner is something I have prayed for time and again for over five years. But knowing that Jihad Yarmur – the person who planned and executed the kidnapping of IDF soldier Nachshon Waksman in 1994 – will be free is a thought hard to bear with. I’m sure it’s even worse for Yehuda and Esther Waksman, his parents who were told their son’s killer would be put behind iron bars.
Read More Post a comment (0)Gilad Shalit returned home today after more than 5 years in captivity. Gilad is roughly my age now. I am 25. He was abducted when he was 19, my younger brother’s age. It is crazy to think that he spent these formative years as a prisoner. I was deeply moved today when I saw the images of his return. I am happy for him, for his friends and his family. I am happy their nightmare is over. I hope they are able to slowly pick up the pieces from their terrible ordeal and begin to build a new life together.
Nonetheless, I must admit, I am worried that the prisoner exchange will lower Fatah’s and Mahmoud Abbas’ credibility among the Palestinians and will strengthen the hand of Hamas and other extremists. I am worried about what the release of hundreds of violent prisoners with blood on their hands will mean in the coming months. 
Although many people strongly opposed the prisoner exchange, few other issues have had as widespread support among Israelis, and Jews around the world, as Gilad Shalit’s cause. The movement to reach a deal for Gilad’s release was massive and gathered Israelis and Jews from different walks of life. Today hundreds of people gathered to cheer and welcome Gilad as he returned home. Thousands more, watched on at home with tears in their eyes. I logged on to facebook to find my entire news feed full of posts, tags, statuses and quotes welcoming Gilad back to his family and relishing in the strength, pride, and unity of the Jewish people.
It was a good day. Yet, as much as I yearn to participate in the celebration, the events of today have actually reminded me of how deeply we are divided. Though I am moved by the images of Gilad returning to his family, and though I am moved by the outpour of emotion from Jews everywhere, I can’t help but feel anger as well. I felt frustration when I learned that Netanyahu was the first to embrace Gilad, even before his family, and I hate the fact that he will use it as a political gimmick. As I think about Gilad and his family, as I think about the future of Isreal, I feel that today, more than ever, it is important to challenge those leaders and extremists amongst us who are putting that future in peril.
Read More Post a comment (0)By Jessica Yousseffi
“Hey, I’m going to this thing tonight… it’s hard to explain, it’s this Jewish chanting thing. I know it sounds weird but I think it’ll be an interesting experience. Call me back!” I leave a few more friends the same voicemail and texts. No response.
I wasn’t about to give up; I’d been looking forward to the “Citywide Days of Awe Kirtan” since I heard about it at a Jewish yoga class. Slow down, I hear you say, what are the Days of Awe, what’s kirtan and what on earth is Jewish yoga? With regards to the latter, picture a room filled with Jews cross-legged on their mats, clasped hands by the heart, repeating, “Shal-ommmm.” It’s like a regular yoga studio, except you’re set up with “my son, the cantor” while doing the downward dog. In truth, I’m not sure the instructors know how to define Jewish yoga either. Regarding the event, Kirtan is an Indian devotional practice of call-and-response chanting and the Days of Awe refers to the Jewish High Holy Days. Put the two together, switch sanskrit mantras for hebrew liturgy, and you have the Days of Awe Kirtan led by Andrew Hahn, the Kirtan Rabbi.
Read More Post a comment (0)By Jessica Yousseffi
A picture of two Hasidic men dancing jubilantly in their shtreimel’s might resonate with a Yid growing up in Eastern Europe circa 1920 but it’s not really an image most American Jews identify with today.
Jdate, where Jews fall in love over witty emails
Such Jewish caricatures haunted Will Deutsch in nearly every Jewish household he found himself in. Yet none of these depictions spoke to his experience, or what it was like for him being the only Jewish person in his elementary class.
In response, Deutsch, a young LA-based artist, created illustrations of Jewish icons that resonate with the modern Jewish experience. From an awkward Bar Mitzvah kid gripping his chair as he’s thrust in the air, to two boys whispering in the middle of a Saturday service. He even captures the Jewish American Princess with her designer handbag and glasses, while proudly sporting an over-sized hamsa and red Kabbalah string. In fact, Deutsch has a little over 70 prints representing many facets of modern Jewish life.
I ran into Deutsch at USC Hillel quite accidentally as I was waiting for my meeting with the campus rabbi. He was splattering paint on the walls in preparation for his exhibition, “The World is a Room,” currently on display, and gave me a quick interview, explaining the concept behind his illustrations:
Read More Post a comment (1)I grew up, and for the most part continue to move about in circles and environments where religion, and by extension the religious person, is considered crazy, uneducated, dumb, or at best, a serious pain in the butt. I too shared in these views. Even though my only attempt at Torah learning was the occasional perusal while sitting on the white throne in my bathroom, I believed that religion contained at best some nice myths that could be of comfort to people who could not deal with the angst of meaninglessness.
This summer I shocked myself as well as my friends and family, by attending a summer program at Yeshivat Hadar in New York. My family and friends’ jokes, fears, and questions have been incessant since I announced my decision. It sounds something like this: “Really dude?”, “Why would you do that?”, “Don’t turn religious on me”. “Does the restaurant have to be kosher?”, “Are you going to become a rabbi?”, “Can we still go out and try to seduce women?”, “Are you depressed?”, “Have you grown peyyes yet?”, “You are going to come back and you won’t even eat the food in my house” (my mother), “Can we discuss this?” I will admit, prior to the summer, a lot of my own thoughts and feelings echoed some of these preoccupations as well.
So? How did it go?
Read More Post a comment (3)By Joel Lazar
There’s more than one way to do Judaism. That is the unfaltering message that has accompanied me since my arrival to the Star Spangled States one month ago. And more than ever, it is a reminder that Australian Jewish-ness is yet to fulfil its communal potential.
Six months ago I took a sabbatical of sorts. At the tender age of twenty-two. A self-imposed hiatus from the familiar ebb and flow of university and community life in Melbourne in an effort to break the dry surface and find what I imagined to be a wellspring of creative Jewish thought and way of life. It was a pilgrimage of one, whose hand would lead me to the Jewish centres of Israel and America. It was a head-first dive into religious and communal liminality where all Big Questions, in spite and on account of their ‘heresy’, deserved my response. There was an intellectual imperative that all answers, due to their innovation and creativity were to be absorbed.
Four months spent at a Halakhically earnest yeshiva in Israel (Maale Gilboa), served as a bright spark to lead the way. I’ve tended to view the orthodox yeshiva world, with its seven am to eleven pm shteiging (lit. rise; ascend – col. Jewish study) as falling within the traditional bounds of Jewish life. Which isn’t a criticism per se. I recognise that that style of learning is Jewish tradition manifest; an act of taking the life of what once was and constantly checking for vital signs – maintaining a steady pulse and heartbeat.
Read More Post a comment (0)One of the trends that is beginning to define our generation musically is the emergence and proliferation of bands that mix different styles and genres. Sometimes these projects turn out badly. There are bands out there that try to incorporate way to much. Rather than being a blend of influences that truly stems from each member’s own musical background, history and identity, some bands just seem to be trying to incorporate every rhythm out there into their repertoire. The results are confusing and soulless. At its worst this phenomenon is a marketing tool trying to capitalize on our modern liberal universal ideals.
At its best though, the mix can be genuine. Today’s borders are fluid and identities are overlapping. Musicians, or sometimes individuals, with mixed backgrounds but common bonds are creating some truly phenomenal stuff.There are cultural hubs where people of all different backgrounds and interests are coming together and impacting each other in beautiful and exciting ways. Israel is one such hub.
Last weekend I went to the Summer Stage in Central Park here in NYC. I saw two phenomenal Israeli bands that really exemplify this new and exciting trend in music.
The first band I saw was Shabate. Let by Abate Brihorn, Shabate mixes Ethiopian rhythms with traditional Jewish melodies and prayers, and some occasional blues and funk to spice things up. What was most interesting was the band’s seamless blend of the secular and the religious. Here was a band, composed almost entirely of religious Jews, complete with beards and peyyes, singing prayers in Hebrew, and yet able to create such a funky groove that a secular crowd in NYC got up and started dancing. Preety cool stuff. Check them out in the video below.
The other band I saw was Yemen Blues. They were also musically superb and culturally fascinating. Yemen Blues is led by Ravid Kahalani, an Israeli of Yemenite background. It is a nine piece band that mixed traditional Yemenite melodies with jazz, funk, and blues. It was beautiful to hear Kahalani’s mournful chants, inspired by his childhood in Yemenite synagogues, fuse effortlessly with the funky horns and the groovy drums. Perhaps the coolest thing, was that the trombone player, who was incredibly talented, was also very much pregnant. Below is a clip from Yemen Blues.
I have often written here about the incredible potential for unique cultural expression in Israel and in the Jewish world in general. Having seen it first hand this past Sunday, I am more than ever inspired and convinced, that it is in this type of experimentation where we can find one of the essential keys to revitalizing Jewish life in Israel and in the Diaspora. Though we should always strive to learn from our spiritual and religious traditions, it is our cultural baggage, picked up from centuries of wandering the world, that really has the potential to invigorate our lives and our communities.
