As a Jewish professional, I am always looking for ways to connect Judaism to our lives. “Professional” Jews know that our students, congregants, and communities look to us as models for how to live a life filled with meaning and purpose.
One of the first lessons we teach Jewish children is that we are created b’tzelem Elohim – “in God’s image.” For some of us, being created in God’s image is a reminder to be God-like, showing as much kindness and compassion as we can. For others, being created in God’s image is a warning not to tattoo or pierce our bodies. For me, at this stage in my life b’tzelem Elohim is more literal: it means that God gave me my physical body to take care of, nurture, and cherish.
That’s why every day, I think about what I put into my body; every day, I find the time to move; and every day, I seek out things that make me happy. These acts not only keep me well physically, but also they also heighten my spiritual awareness. This has become as much my Jewish practice as the study of text or praying.
I am also just as much a role model for my students and staff by taking care of my body as I would be for my Jewish knowledge. I believe this very deeply: taking care of our physical selves honors a gift given to us by God, and is a very Jewish thing to do. And yet, the Jewish professional field is overwhelmed by unhealthy lifestyles, too little sleep, too little exercise, a state of imbalance and poor health. The irony in this is that research shows undeniably that people are more productive when they eat well, exercise, and get sleep.
The Jewish world closely mirrors the rest of society in the issue of weight and nutrition. And, sad but true - it’s especially bad in the South. I wonder, though, if we as Jewish leaders have an obligation to model healthy living – focusing not just on mind and spirit, but also on body. When we talk about obesity and health, emotions run deep, as this is something many people struggle with and few are comfortable discussing. So how can we, as a Jewish community, help and support each other in this arena?
What does being b’tezelem Elohim mean to you? Do you think Jewish leaders should model a healthy lifestyle?
It’s a great piece, about a dynamic educator. (We’re biased, of course, but we’re not the ones who wrote the article! Trust the objective journalism and you’ll still be charmed by Rachel!) Here’s a quick excerpt:
When Rachel Jarman Myers, a Jewish educator, works with children in Jackson, Miss., she typically asks the students if they know any Jewish people. Sometimes, one child raises a hand. But when she specifies that the person cannot be Myers herself, the child’s hand almost always goes back down. The Jewish population in Mississippi has always been small. It peaked in 1927 with just 6,420 Jews. Today, there are only 1,500 Jewish people in an overall population of more than 2.9 million, according to the Goldring/Woldenberg Institute of Southern Jewish Life…
All right, now that we’ve piqued your interest — you can read the entire article here, and we hope you’ll enjoy it as much as we did!
Mazel tov, Rachel!
August 28, 2013, marks the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, and Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famous “I Have a Dream” speech.
The speech that immediately preceded Martin Luther King Jr.’s speech 50 years ago was delivered by Rabbi Joachim Prinz.
As Rabbi of Berlin, Rabbi Prinz was expelled from Nazi Germany. Since this speech, which you can read in its entirety here, will receive less attention I wanted to spread Rabbi Prinz’s message on that day. The entire address is inspiring, but this line, in particular, stands out for me:
“The time, I believe, has come to work together — for it is not enough to hope together, and it is not enough to pray together.”
Those who know me will not be surprised by my choice to discuss this quote.
It is a quote that articulates the importance of relationship building, and cooperation. This idea is repeated in some of my prior blog posts, after all: real social change is most often the result of the efforts of many who work in partnership. The members of different churches, synagogues, mosques, and other houses of worship may have different traditions or political perspectives, but there are almost always overlapping hopes, particularly for their children. Across religious differences, we want our youth to have access to a good education, to be healthy, to be safe, to have the opportunity to live peacefully and pursue their lives and passions. We can make assumptions based on these beliefs, and hope together – or even pray together.
But to work together, we can’t just make broad assumptions (even good, positive ones!) about our hopes and goals. To truly cooperate, we need to have a good understanding of what exactly is driving all of the parties involved. It is the only way to be certain that we are all, in fact, aiming for the same ultimate outcome. On a truly basic level, to work together we have to know each other. We have to know our neighbors’ names, and have their contact information, and not just talk about being a community – but do the work it takes to become a community.
Occasionally, I’ll hear from a synagogue that is skeptical about working with local churches. This is often fueled by a fear that the church members will try to proselytize. I wonder what Rabbi Prinz would say? I suggest that both congregations get together, and discuss what each group needs to feel respected and accepted. It is important to give cooperation a chance. There is too much work that has to get done. We cannot afford to only work with people who think like us. We are all better off when we work together.
May this line serve as a source of inspiration for all of us to commit to working with one another. Martin Luther King, Jr. provided a directive and a vision – and Rabbi Joachim Prinz reminded us of the work that goes into pushing that vision forward. 50 years after these great leaders, and their peers, rallied a crowd of thousands, we must hear the call today. We must be united by a shared dream, then roll up our sleeves and share in the work.
Photo credit: New Jersey Jewish Historical Society