Tag Archives: Israel

YOU Can Bring Peace in the Middle East!

doveTomorrow, Tuesday, July 15th is a fast day in Jewish tradition. It is called the 17th of Tammuz, named after the date on the Hebrew calendar. It is a minor fast, meaning that the fast lasts only from sun up to sun down. It commemorates, among other things, the breaching of Jerusalem’s walls which led to the destruction of the Second Temple.

Coincidently, we are also in the month of Ramadam, when Muslims also fast from sun up to sundown. Given the confluence of the two fasts, and the current fighting between Israel and the Palestinians, several ideas have been floated to bring Jews and Muslims together to celebrate the two fast days.

One group organizing joint gatherings is called “Choose Life Ramadan- 17 Tammuz Fast.” The group can be found on Facebook. Rabbis and Imams from around the world are posting joint events on the page. Scroll through the page to see if there is something in your area. The idea is that if we can celebrate together, we can find a way to peace together.

Another idea is proposed by Rabbi Yehuda Kurtzer in an op ed published in The Times of Israel  calling for “the sound of social silence.” He has been appalled at the hate being expressed on social media by people on both sides of this conflict. He is calling for social media silence on this issue beginning on the Fast of Tammuz on Tuesday and extending through the three weeks of mourning some Jews observe for the destruction of the Temples which ends on Tisha B’Av on Tuesday, August 5th.

Both of these ideas are beautiful ways to try to stem the hatred and violence on both sides of this conflict. They also give each of us a way to contribute to building peace. I hope you are able to put one of these ideas in to practice, or to think of another positive thing you can do to help bring about peace.

Israel’s national anthem is called Hatikvah, “The Hope.” Though things may seem very bleak right now, I am holding on to the hope that peace will finally come to the region, and I want to play even a tiny role in making that happen. You can too!

Posted on July 14, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

Liberalism, Loyalty and Israel

Iron DomeI am sad. I am scared. I am angry.

Like many of you, over the last few weeks, I’ve been following the news about the kidnapping and murder of Naftali, Gilad and Eyal, followed by the revenge killing of Muhammed, followed by increased rocket attacks by Hamas towards Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, followed by military response from Israel into Gaza. And I am particularly sad, scared and angry about what might follow next.

But what has been most challenging for me personally has been the internal tension between my liberal values and my loyalty to Israel—and I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way.

Last month, I mentioned how much I value Jonathan Haidt’s book The Righteous Mind: How Good People are Divided by Politics and Religion. He uses a framework that has helped me understand why I have felt so torn these last few days.

Morality, Haidt argues, isn’t just one thing. It has five main different facets to it—care for others, justice and fairness, loyalty, respect for authority, and a sense of sanctity. Liberals, he notes, tend to focus mainly on the first two (care and justice), and feel much less strongly about the other three (loyalty, authority and sanctity).

Most of the time, liberals are deeply focused on caring for others, so when people are in harm’s way, we simply see that they need our support. When we see Boko Haram kidnap girls in Nigeria, or genocide in Darfur, or millions of immigrants unable to enter the United States, we feel motivated to act.

But when it comes to Israel—especially when it is under attack—many liberal Jews also embrace a sense of loyalty, as well. And the result is that our “care” foundation comes into direct conflict with “loyalty” foundation.

On the one hand, our sense of care is aroused when we see the citizens of southern Israel under constant rocket attacks from Hamas, as well as innocent Palestinians who are caught in the crossfire. On the other hand, when we see how poorly the media portrays Israel, or when we feel like other Jews are not rallying to defend Israel, our sense of loyalty rises to the forefront.

And that’s the reason why so many liberal Jews are feeling so torn about what is happening in Israel right now—two of our foundational beliefs are in conflict.

Now, we may never resolve this conflict within ourselves, let alone the conflict in the Middle East. But when we do feel this tension, we need to remember two things.

First, both care and loyalty are strong foundations for our sense of morality. Indeed, if you are feeling torn right now, that’s a good thing, because it means that you have a broad and deep sense of what right and wrong might entail.

Second, care and loyalty are not the same thing. They motivate different types of actions, and different people may prize one over the other. So when we get angry at people because we think they are being either disloyal or uncaring, we need to recognize that they may be valuing a different element of their morality than we are.

Ultimately, when we are feeling torn between our loyalty to Israel and our care for others, we should remember the words of Walt Whitman, ““Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” 

May we be large enough to embrace both our sense of loyalty and our sense of care, and finally create the peace that we all so desperately want.

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Posted on July 10, 2014

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Please. Just Stop.

I do not want to write about the horrific deaths of the three Israeli boys. I had other things I planned to talk about this week, but I do not feel that it would be right to talk about anything else, anything more trivial.

I do not want to talk about horror, or violence, or the hollow feelings that watching the news over the past two days has left with me.

There is nothing, Not. One. Thing. I can do to ease the parents’ pain; to undo the senseless, vile, killing; to make anything about this situation in any way better.

Nor can anyone else, although many people are trying, in all the wrong ways: by creating Facebook groups calling for revenge, by killing a young Palestinian boy, by marching through the streets chanting for the deaths of people based on their ethnicity.

None of this will assuage one drop of the pain caused by these boys’ loss. It will not ease the fear felt by many parents, or even the more general fear of anti-Jewish feeling or actions by some Arabs. All that feeling seemingly must go somewhere, and I understand that people are desperately looking for a place to spend it, to get rid of their fear and horror and sick,sick, worry. But pouring it out in the streets like sewage bursting its pipe—how can this happen?

I don’t want to talk about this. About any of this. In addition to the sorrow of the loss of those children, I now feel harrowed by the horror of seeing racial violence in the streets of Israel, by Jews. In seeing some people, whom I otherwise had respect for, advocating its rightness. But I think we have to talk about it.

The family of slain Israeli teenager Naftali Fraenkel has been a model of dignity and yahadut (Jewish values) in their tragedy, saying it would be “horrifying and despicable” for the Palestinian boy to have been murdered in revenge, and the boy’s uncle, Yishai Fraenkel, said, “There is no difference between blood and blood. A murderer is a murderer, no matter his nationality and age. There is no justification, no forgiveness and no atonement for any murder.”

Must we make the families of the murdered be our rebukers in their time of sorrow? What a terrible burden to place upon them.

How did we get to this place?

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Posted on July 2, 2014

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The Destination: Israel

I experience the world through Jewish history. I came by it honestly, having been a lifelong avid student of Jewish history. The story drew me in, like learning about my family’s past.

I feel Jewish history like the blood in my veins. So this week I had a chance to retrace a certain Jewish journey, of sorts. While visiting my daughter in Spain, I felt the history of our people there, with visions of the Golden Age when Jews were a thriving community. I heard the names of Jewish communities all over the Iberian peninsula reverberating in my memory, then felt grief and sadness for the fate of those communities under the Inquisition. The fear and hatred wrought by the Inquisitors, the heinous torture they inflicted on suspected Conversos, secret Jews are a great stain on history. The journey of the Jewish people, so marked by our wanderings, was forever changed.

Thankfully, the relationship of the Spanish people to our people has changed, and now the Spanish government is discussing the offering of citizenship to Jews of Spanish origin—even 500+ years since the Inquisition.

I left Spain, boarding a flight to Istanbul, where I had visited several years ago with the warm hospitality of Turkish hosts. In Turkey I felt Jewish history in my bones, in what was once a significant destination for Jews fleeing the Inquisition. The Ottoman rulers welcomed Jews and offered safe haven and new homes. Our people owe a great debt to Turkey for the friendship offered at such an important time.

History marches on, and now there are few Jews in Turkey. We Jews continued to wander, eventually finding unprecedented opportunity to settle in our ancient homeland in the late 19th century. Fleeing European persecution yet again, our people established a refuge for all Jews by creating the State of Israel.

So when I boarded my next flight, this time to Tel Aviv, I smiled at the sweep of history. Here we are, a Jewish people with our long-awaited rebirth. Now we can travel and live in Spain, visit and enjoy Turkey, and also walk the paths of our ancestors in Israel. I am warmed by remembering just how remarkable that is.

Israel is the destination from our wanderings. Yes, I will return home to New Jersey next month, but I carry this place with me everywhere.  And I wonder, and I worry, will my children, and their peers, growing up in a  time when historical memory pales in comparison to the opportunities presented by the global community—will they carry it in their hearts? Our biggest challenge today is to nurture both cultural openness and Jewish pride. The key lies not only in recalling the sufferings of our past, but in experiencing the remarkable. Israel is a complicated and imperfect place, but it is indeed extraordinary. Israel is uniquely a product of Jewish experience and skillful survival. We did this together, and that includes today’s youth too.

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Posted on June 30, 2014

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Stop Trying to Get Everyone On the Same Page

shutterstock_175604597While on the surface, the last two posts on this blog from my colleagues, Laura Duhan Kaplan and Joshua Ratner, are about two very different things, they are, I believe, both reflections on the shifting culture in which our Jewish lives and worlds are embedded. Sometimes, in our analysis of our field of focus, we can lose sight of a broader set of dynamics that may have as much, if not more, to tell us about a situation we are examining than some of the specifics of the situation itself.

Let’s start with Joshua’s concern that, at a recent rally for the three kidnapped boys in Israel, there was a stark lack of young people present. Likewise, he notes, at communal Yom HaShoah and Yom Ha’atzmaut events, the presence of a younger generation is often lacking.  Is it that they don’t care? Are we dealing with a more self-centered generation than in the past? These are some of Joshua’s questions.

While there may be some partial truths there, I think a step back to look at the worlds that many of our teens and young adults are living in may be more instructive. And not just our teens and young adults, but many other segments of our communities too. One of the things that I’ve observed is that often, regardless of the topic or the issue, any Jewish gathering that aims to or claims to bring all sections of the community together often reaches none, or very few. Perhaps only those who are comfortably self-identified as the Jewish establishment will appear (those are the 50+ folk that Joshua saw in his crowd). They know that we are addressing them. Others may not be so sure unless we break things down and are more explicit about who we mean.

This is why there are many independent communities and minyanim that have popped up in recent years. Not necessarily identified along established denominational lines, they are, in part, a result of young Jews who are less interested in simply “belonging” to an established Jewish entity because it is already there, and are more interested in creating something that fits who they are, where they can be with like-minded folk.  It is why, within a more established kind of Jewish congregation—one like my own where we are the most significant gathering place for Jews who come to us from 20 different towns—our ability to engage and connect with our members requires us to correctly identify many of the different groups and interests within our larger membership and provide a range of doorways in for those specific needs (creating many small gatherings and opportunities within the large). Its why many congregations realized that when you simply advertise “adult education” you always seem to get the same group of, primarily, empty-nesters and retirees in attendance. Its not that others aren’t interested in learning; it’s just that its only when the kids have left home that you finally have some time to do study for its own sake. Or perhaps you now begin to seek new realms of meaning now that not so much of that meaning-making is invested in raising children. That doesn’t mean we can never get other groups to come and learn with us. It just means we have to be really smart about what it is they need at other junctures of their lives.

So I’ve found teens and young adults to be very engaged with Israel, and deeply able to connect with the impact of the Shoah on Jewish peoplehood, but in places where they come to be with each other. Joshua and I shared the same community for a while. The year that we brought our annual Yom HaShoah observance into our community High School Tuesday evening gathering, it was very powerful to see a couple of hundred teens watch Holocaust survivors light candles, and hear the testimony of one of them. Several teens every year did the “Adopt a Survivor” program and personally got to know one survivor and commit to tell their story. It was clear that they had a connection in our debrief the following week. But do they come on a Sunday afternoon for a “communal” event? Not so much.

Laura’s very honest reflections on how, at an event that was meant to bring community together, she felt somewhat uncomfortable and disconnected from narratives being offered by Jewish leadership from another denomination is, I believe, another dimension of some of the same cultural phenomenon. On almost no topic are we a “one community” mindset. It is almost impossible for anyone to speak anymore and be accepted as “the voice” of the people, or even of a particular moment. Perhaps there was a time, in a more modernist era, where we were willing to let voices of authority speak on behalf of all of us—a Chief Rabbi (in the UK, for example; something that was far more accepted a few decades ago than it is now), a communal leader at a rally, an Op-Ed in a newspaper. But today, some of the most successful Jewish communal events are ones that focus on and celebrate plurality and diversity of voice—take the enormous world-wide success of Limmud, for example. Even on something where you might have assumed that, at least publicly, we’d all stand with one voice, it is the right to have even the minority voice heard that overrides any sense that doing so might undermine a perceived communal unity. Take the position of Jewish Voice for Peace on BDS (Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions), for example, and their recent role in a Presbyterian Church vote to partially divest from three companies doing business in Israel. Some are outraged by their presence in the public square of debate on Israel. But, if we take a step back from the issue and better understand our cultural context, in which we have celebrated and empowered those who are drawn to define and act upon their own sense of justice in a plurality of ways, we shouldn’t be surprised by the result.

Just to be clear, I’m not mourning the lack of perceived unity and peoplehood. Neither am I celebrating it. I’m simply describing the cultural landscape that I believe we are living in the ways that I see it. Simply better understanding it can, I believe, help us do our work in connecting Jews together, engaging Jews in communities, activities and causes, with more successful outcomes. Trying to get everyone at the same event, on the same page, and caring in the same way is a fruitless exercise. We can, however, be successful in creating or supporting many gateways, many voices, and many opportunities to be and do Jewish with each other.

The Jewish world is full of debates. Get the latest in MyJewishLearning’s weekly blogs newsletter.

Posted on June 25, 2014

Note: The opinions expressed here are the personal views of the author. All comments on MyJewishLearning are moderated. Any comment that is offensive or inappropriate will be removed. Privacy Policy

An Israel Parade for All Who Love Israel

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parade2On June 1, tens of thousands of Jews will flock on 5th Avenue to participate in the 50th annual Celebrate Israel Parade. This year, perhaps more than ever, this is a parade not to be missed.

The Jewish Community Relations Council (JCRC) of New York is the organizer of the parade. In recent years, the parade has been marked by controversy because of the participation of left-wing groups such as B’tselem and the New Israel Fund that some on the right viewed as insufficiently pro-Israel.

In an effort to thwart conflict this year and affirm that everyone who participates in the parade is, in fact, celebrating Israel, the JCRC had all groups who are marching sign a pledge that they “support Israel as a Jewish and democratic state,” and will not include “political, divisive or inflammatory” statements on their banners or other marching props. One might think that this pledge would be enough to make everyone feel comfortable that all those participating in the parade are supporters of a Jewish and democratic Israel. From my perspective, this is a valiant effort by the JCRC to adopt a big-tent approach to pro-Israel engagement.

Sadly, though, in this era of internecine squabbling, the pledge is insufficient to some right-wing Israel supporters. Critics of the New Israel Fund and other progressive Zionist organizations are pulling out of the parade and planning to protest these groups’ participation.  For example, Rabbi Elie Abadie of the Upper East Side’s Edmond J. Safra Synagogue penned an open letter in which he wrote that his congregation will abstain from marching unless these progressive groups are disqualified from participating. JCC Watch already organized a protest outside the NY Federation.  Another rabbi recently equated the JCRC’s big tent approach with Nazi appeasement.

The problem for these folks is that the progressive Zionist organizations have, in the past, had ties to organizations that support the BDS (boycott, divestment, and sanctions) Movement which seeks to inflict diplomatic and economic punishment on Israel. So even though organizations like the New Israel Fund themselves are opposed to BDS, the claim is that they nevertheless should be ostracized from pro-Israel gatherings because of their past associations.

Israel has enough actual enemies without having to imagine new ones. From the threat of a nuclear Iran to the consequences of another failed peace effort between Israel and the Palestinians, Israel needs as much positive support as possible. When organizations are willing to sign a pledge saying that they support Israel as a Jewish and democratic state, I say, dayeinu. Israel is big enough to include those on the left and the right among its supporters. So let’s put aside the sinat hinam (internal discord) and march together this June 1st, signifying through our words and our actions that both the left and the right can and should embrace Israel.

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Posted on May 27, 2014

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Can We Talk About Israel?

shutterstock_188742710A week after we celebrated the 66th anniversary of the founding of the modern State of Israel, I’ve been reflecting on how we talk about Israel in our communities. At the beginning of the month the Conference of Presidents of Major Jewish Organizations voted against accepting the membership of J-Street into the Conference (see Gary Rosenblatt’s editorial in The Jewish Week for a good summary of this story). With the announcement of a new alliance between the Palestinian Authority and Hamas, hope has considerably waned that the recent round of peace talks with Israel will amount to any new breakthroughs. Some have expressed the belief that this is the direct result of Netanyahu’s stance during the talks. The blame game has begun. It is easy to feel somewhat demoralized by all this and frustrated when it comes to talking about Israel.

And yet, at the same time this past week one of our congregants, a member of the Board of Directors of the Union for Reform Judaism, addressed our congregation after recently returning from a remarkable trip led by Rabbi Rick Jacobs, where they had the opportunity to meet with and speak with leaders in government, the Israel Religious Action Center, observe the growth and development of Reform Judaism in Israel, and meet with Palestinian businessmen in addition to Israeli leaders in the business and innovation world. He returned hopeful and inspired, and he inspired all who heard him speak. Our congregation is planning on a community trip to Israel next year, and people are eager to go.

Last night, in my final class of the semester with our 11th and 12th grade students, we explored a range of Jewish values from Rabbi Goldie Milgram’s “Mitzvah Cards” and I asked students to choose ones that they felt they already ‘carried with them’ and ones that were challenging to them. One of those challenge cards was Israel. A student conveyed something that I remember feeling so strongly myself as I entered my first year of college—a sense of struggle and frustration that sometimes a thoughtful and critical engagement with Israel was silenced within Jewish settings.

I remember attending an event run by the Hillel at my college during the first Gulf War. Scud missiles were being sent Israel’s way. It was a scary time for the population of Israel. Gas masks had been widely distributed. There was no question that we would be praying for the safety of all in Israel. In the midst of an informational session one student stood up to contribute to a discussion about Israel to express his hope that, even in the midst of a time when we needed to stand by Israel and pray for its safety, we wouldn’t lose sight of other issues regarding the peace process or equality within Israel that were also important to talk about in a Jewish setting on campus. He was literally shouted down—how dare he even ask the question at a time like this!

I have a visceral memory of my internal reaction to witnessing that moment. I wanted no part of it. I cared deeply about Israel and its future and its safety. And at the same time I found the culture that squashed thoughtful and caring debate and discussion about all aspects of life in Israel to be enormously unhelpful. That was 25 years ago—no wonder that J-Street has 180,000 supporters and 50 chapters on campus. You may not agree with them, but they exist because there was insufficient room within previously existing organizations for those who wanted to engage more fully with all dimensions of Israel.

Let me be clear—I’m not writing this to express personal support of any one organization or perspective. Rather, I plead for Jewish community to be a place where we can lovingly and respectfully engage with the fullness of Israel. Like my country of origin—the UK—or my country of residence—the USA—there are things that make me feel extraordinarily proud, and there are things that sometimes happen that cause me to feel embarrassment or disappointment. Israel has to be experienced—it is an amazing place. The people are as diverse in background and opinion as any other place. There is so much to learn there. The innovation in science, technology, agriculture, and more is breathtaking. A country that is only 66 years young has developed politically, socially and economically in remarkable ways. And it is still finding its way in some areas—religious pluralism, equality, the place of minority groups in a country that is still fighting for the right to define itself as a Jewish homeland.

What we don’t need is propaganda. We don’t need trips to Israel that pull the blinders over the breadth and complexity of a fully realized, living, breathing modern nation state. We don’t need to silence each other. I do not pretend to offer expertise on the complexities of the political situation and the peace process. It is my job to listen and learn, and to facilitate conversation. It is my job to point out where I observe insightful analysis and information being shared, and where I see ideological lines being drawn in the sand that ultimately help no one. And it is my job to help my student, as she goes off to college, know that there are people and places where she can engage with the fullness of all that Israel is and may still come to be, without feeling shamed or silenced.

The Jewish world is full of debates. Get the latest in MyJewishLearning’s weekly blogs newsletter.

Posted on May 14, 2014

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The Pope’s Kippah

So the Pope lost his kippah for a moment. I’ve been there. As a fellow bald man and kippah wearer I totally relate. This story just made me like the guy even more (click here is see the Pope’s wardrobe malfunction).

Thanks to my photographer friend, Bill Aron, for sending this my way. [No, Bill didn't take the shot. In this case he just knew a good shot when he saw one.]

On May 25, 2014 Pope Francis will visit Israel. He’ll be in Jordan the day before, and while in Israel, he will also meet with the Palestinian Authority. He’s been fairly deft at walking the gauntlet. His sticking with a populist message of helping the poor and of contrition for Church leaders’ crimes has made me a fan. I also like lines such as, “who am I to judge?

I have high hopes for this visit. Not for the politics of the moment, between Palestinians and Israelis, but I have hopes for a high profile religious leader modeling that religion does not have to be the central problem. In fact, it isn’t.

Know this, Francis is not the only one. There are many of us out there.

In the history of the world, religion has often been at the heart of wars and bloodshed. People were right to fear and resent religion. But things have changed and continue to progress.  Around the world, right now, the hot spots are driven much more by the usual culprits of greed for control, wealth, and power. Yes, religion still plays a corrupting role, there are extremist, but a) their role is weaker, and b) the voices of the peaceful who respect differences and are not threatened by them are growing.

The strength of religion in the 21st century lies in a moral voice that does not compel through dogma, but rather attracts and embraces through humility and modeling a recognition that everyone is created in the image of the divine.

Pope Paul, whom Francis canonized as a saint, declared Jews “our elder brothers and sisters in faith.” Last year, Pope Francis extended a similar sounding olive branch to “… so many Muslim brothers and sisters.”

It will take patience, humility, faith, and peacefulness, as well as a touch of joy, and hope to find a lasting peace—regardless of what politicians contrive—and the record for good politics right now is poor anyway. The Pope’s visit is not overtly political, but do not underestimate it’s potential. Even with stalled peace talks, there is reason to hope.

The wiser voices within the traditions of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam still believe in a time when “war and bloodshed will cease.” It seems that the secular voices gave up on that possibility.

Could it be that religion will lead the way to a more peaceful world?  I think, “yes.”

Posted on May 6, 2014

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Today Matters

Credit Charlie Kalech  j-town.co.il

Credit Charlie Kalech j-town.co.il

At a construction site at the Jerusalem bus station there is a multi-paneled chalkboard with space for people to fill in what they are grateful for.

If I were making the list today it would read, the ocean, the stunning weather, my children’s health. A shift in the carpool this morning gave way to an extraordinary view of the Pacific on the way to work. On another day, I might have not even seen it and concentrated on the flowers or trees instead. The weather today is oddly perfect for San Francisco. There is little chance we will have many more days like this. And despite their general good health, I know better than to believe in the false security that this is in any way a guarantee for my children’s future. I am grateful for the graces of the moment. For that which I see, appreciate right now.

We are counting the Omer. It is a strange practice, which I don’t fully understand. I can of course quote the meanings and explanations that the tradition gives but it remains a bit mysterious to me. Why the need to number our days, to account for the passing of time so very carefully?

But I know it is too easy to let time pass. Days go by without notice. One set of flowers, blends into a sunset, into a fight with a loved one, into a day at the office and errands and then a year goes by. Last week when we observed Yom Hashoah, I was struck by how in my remembered lifetime the pervasive presence of survivors has given way to the dominance of memory and recordings. Time, which once stood still in ghettos and camps, has gone by quickly. In my children’s lifetime the Holocaust will pass into distant memory.

Every day and every moment matters, but for these seven weeks, between Passover and Shavuot we stop daily and take a moment to mark the passage of time. We heighten our awareness of the ancient journey that Israelites took from slavery to revelation. Like the passersby near the Jerusalem bus station, we are given an opportunity to consider the gifts that we have. Noticing does not make the time go any faster or slower but it does help us appreciate what we have in the moment.

Posted on May 1, 2014

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When Did Preemptive War Become a Jewish Value?

512px-Peace_dove.svgHow many emails have you gotten recently urging you to “take action” to get new, tougher sanctions imposed on Iran? They sound pretty convincing, right? “Keep the pressure on Iran,” as one email I received urges, resonates with our understanding that Iran, like much of the Middle East, only responds positively to pressure and cannot otherwise be trusted. We in the Jewish community see Iran as an existential threat to Israel, and Iran’s acquisition of a nuclear bomb as the most likely—and therefore most exigent—trigger of this threat. So getting “tougher” on Iran seems like a no-brainer. In fact, several national Jewish organizations, including AIPAC, the Jewish Council for Public Affairs (JCPA), the Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA), and the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) have come out in support of a recently proposed Senate Iran sanctions bill called the Nuclear Weapon Free Iran Act (S. 1881).

But I am writing this blog today to argue why, from a Jewish perspective, I think this approach is wrong. I want to begin by saying that I care deeply about Israel’s security. I also blame Iran for playing a highly destabilizing role in Middle Eastern geo-politics through its direct (Republican Guard) and indirect (Hezbollah) support for violent pro-Shiite regimes. Nevertheless, I think the current effort to impose new sanctions on Iran is not only strategically flawed but, more importantly, incompatible with a traditional Jewish understanding of war and peace.

First, the strategic case (I’ll keep this brief since it gets technical very quickly; for a far more comprehensive analysis, click here):

Fact 1: the interim agreement between Iran and the P5+1 (the U.S., Russia, China, Great Britain, France, and Germany), which  began to be implemented on January 12, 2014, is the first positive negotiated agreement with Iran since the Iranian Revolution took place.

Fact 2: the interim agreement explicitly states that the US “will refrain from imposing new nuclear-related sanctions.”

Fact 3: the Nuclear Weapon Free Iran Act (S. 1881) effectively calls for increased sanctions against Iran.  Though technically the sanctions called for are conditional, the conditions are both vague enough and broad enough that it is virtually certain they will be triggered.

Fact 4: Iran has made clear that any additional sanctions imposed during the period of the interim agreement will terminate the agreement.

As a result, most analysts see the Senate bill as tantamount to torpedoing a nuclear deal with Iran and setting the groundwork for what will be an ugly, devastating war. In fact, the bill itself explicitly provides that the US will support Israel diplomatically, militarily, and economically, if Israel goes to war against Iran.

As Jon Stewart, my favorite foreign policy expert, points out in this clip, if the purpose of imposing sanctions was to bring Iran to the negotiating table in order to avoid armed conflict, and if Iran has now come to the table and agreed to take some positive steps towards curtailing its nuclear program, why on earth would we think the response should be more sanctions?  Even self-proclaimed “Iran  hawks” are opposed to the new bill.

Thus, the current Senate bill, from a strategic standpoint, is anathema to the goal of stopping Iran from acquiring a nuclear bomb without having to resort to war.

But there is a religious undercurrent to this analysis that I have found lacking in Jewish communal discussions about Iran.  Judaism is not a religion that propounds warfare.  Rabbinic Judaism, in particular, “sought to limit the validity and practicality of violent conflict.” Our daily prayers are filled with messages about seeking peace. Perhaps even more telling,when faced with a conflict between truth and peace, the Talmud routinely opts for peace (such as Ketubot 17a or Yevamot 65b).  Why, then, are Jewish organizations and political commentators so eager to embrace a path to war?  I can understand AIPAC’s perspective on this issue, since it represents Israel’s view, but why are so many other “centrist” organizations pushing the sanctions bill as well? Why are J-Street and Americans For Peace Now the only national Jewish organizations opposing additional sanctions? Why are we allowing ourselves to be led by the same Jewish neo-cons such as Paul Wolfowitz, Bill Kristol, and Charles Krauthammer who agitated for our involvement in the disastrous Iraq War?

As a rabbi, I firmly believe that the public policy positions we advocate must be grounded in Jewish values. Advocating affirmative steps towards a preemptive war with Iran, when other options remain on the table, is inconsistent with these Jewish values. In the words of Deuteronomy 20:10, “When you  draw near to a city to fight against it, first proclaim peace unto it.” We have drawn near to Iran; it is my hope and prayer that we will have the moral courage and clarity to proclaim peace before rushing off to war.

Posted on February 4, 2014

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