"Do Not Inquire": A Reflection on Parashat Re'eh

This week's portion, Re'eh, cautions against investigating the practices of pagan religions:

"...Do not inquire about their gods, saying, 'How did those nations worship their gods?  I too will follow those practices'" (Deut. 12:30).  The fear, of course, is that intellectual inquiry, even if well-meaning, for instance, for the pursuit of wisdom and knowledge, will nevertheless lead to seduction by foreigners into Gentile ways... and ultimately, to the betrayal of the God of the Hebrews.

In his commentary to this passage, Plaut (1981 edition, p. 1425) has noted:  "This intellectual isolation led in time to a concept of non-Israelite and, later, non-Jewish religions that was not always in consonance with the facts....  In the history of nations such protectionism has often been the policy of religious as well as political orthodoxies.  Thus, the Inquisition proscribed certain books as dangerous to the Catholic faith...."

"Liberal Jews," Plaut continues, "... take a different view:  they consider the biblical law as no longer applicable in the modern context.  They affirm the independence of the human spirit and the freedom of intellectual inquiry.  To be sure, unlimited inquiry carries certain risks, but these are worth the price, for the freedom of knowledge is, for liberals, a requisite for a fully free human existence."

Friends:  I affirm these powerful words and underscore their importance for our intellectual and spiritual endeavor in this online forum.

Westchester Reform Temple is a community of 1,200 households comprised principally of Jews and a goodly number of Gentiles who have joined themselves to the mission of the Jewish People through bonds of family, friendship, and shared faith.  As a congregation, we take special pride in our pursuit of intellectual inquiry and the Reform Jewish outlook that Faith and Reason must go hand-in-hand.

As a Reform Jewish faith community, we categorically reject the parochial and even, at times, xenophobic outlook of some our ancestors and some of our present-day co-religionists who, like the authors of this part of Deuteronomy, have felt compelled to close their eyes, ears, hearts and minds to people of other religious traditions.

As a dramatic example:  what has transpired on our blog in recent days goes far beyond the rejection of intellectual inquiry.  In recent days, comments to this blog have crossed a line to what can only be called hate speech.  The original intent of this blog--to teach, study, and explore Torah and to engage in intellectual inquiry--has been sullied by comments demeaning Gentiles, non-Orthodox Jews, interfaith families, and--most egregiously--Muslims.  Our blog, intended to be safe place for all, has become a hostile environment which does not reflect the values of our congregational community.

I have, therefore, pulled a few of the most offensive recent comments from the blog because I believe that they can serve only to distance us from intellectual inquiry and the study of Torah and seduce us into a lowbrow volley of brickbats, vituperation, and ugly misrepresentations of Muslims and Arabs.

Let me be perfectly clear (because the irony of censoring comments in the context of remarks about open inquiry is not lost on me!):  In my view, there is nothing more idolatrous than using the sacred words of Torah to espouse or justify bigotry, and it will not be tolerated here.

Further: during the coming weeks and months, the purposes and implementation of our blog will be comprehensively evaluated.  To that end, your feedback about the following questions is warmly invited:

- What do we hope to achieve here?  What should be the goals and aspirations of our blog?

- Who should be writing the weekly comments?  We now have a robust clergy team of three rabbis and two cantors at WRT; we also have an exceptionally intellectually robust congregation and one possible future model for our blog envisions this online forum as an opportunity for lay members of the congregation to teach and learn.  We also have an opportunity to welcome "guest bloggers" to the site, for instance, WRT students studying abroad in Israel or in rabbinical school who could use this platform to share their views and their own special Torah.

- When should the blog be updated?  Early in the week, when we can engage Parashat Ha-Shavua in anticipation of the coming Shabbat?  Or close to Shabbat itself, when the Friday evening speaker's remarks can be published?

I welcome your comments, and I offer these in the spirit of open inquiry and rejection of that which our community deems offensive and counter-productive.

Rav Berachot -- with many blessings,

Jonathan

Eikev D'var Torah by Troy Kirwin

Check out incoming UVA Freshman Troy Kirwin's fantastic d'var Torah from last Shabbat! Shavua Tov!

Troy Kirwin     August 10, 2012

College Send-Off D’var Torah

It’s been four long years.  Four challenging years.  There were certainly times when  my classmates and I felt as though there was no end in sight, no light at the end of the tunnel.  Constant exams, essays, projects, SAT prep- the list just goes on.  Yet they were also 4 exciting years, filled with success and learning.  Your Four years in high school are supposed to be the period in which you see yourself grow the most.  As we end one journey, we embark on what could be an even more daunting journey-four years of college.  
We stand poised to enter a future filled with uncertainty. The road before us is not set in stone by our parents.  It is waiting to be plotted out by us.  In some ways, college is like a proverbial bridge, connecting our current lives within the constraints of our parents’ homes to the point when we enter the real world for ourselves.  In the process we will stumble and fall, only to pick ourselves up again once more.  
This journey ahead of us shows several parallels to the journey that Moses led the Israelites on through the wilderness. They roamed 40 years through the unknown, battling trials and setbacks in order to start a new life for themselves.  Though our voyage may just be through a quad, a fraternity house or a crowded library and not a hostile desert, the point is still the same.  We are entering a new frontier.  Our way of life will change in more ways than one.  We will have to learn to live on our own, do our own laundry, make new friends and chart our own course.  

The most prominent way that our lives will change, however, is the fact that we are leaving what many refer to as the “Scarsdale bubble.”  As we all know, kids who grow up in Scarsdale live very sheltered lives, sometimes unaware of the reality of the outside world.  For those kids in Scarsdale who are Jewish, most grow up solely in environments where they are surrounded by other Jews.  Our school is predominantly Jewish, we go to camps that are mostly Jewish, we go on teen tours with other Jewish teens from the area, we go to religious school, and some of us even play what we dub “Jew Ball.”  Those teenagers around us who aren’t Jewish, are typically very accepting and respectful of the Jewish tradition because of their exposure to it.  But now, all of a sudden, we are at the point in our lives when we leave the bubble and face reality.    Many of my classmates made decisions about which school they wanted to attend based on the Jewish population at that college.  Maybe they were afraid to enter a world that didn’t resemble the bubble.  My mother’s friend told my mom that she did not want her son to go to school in the south because she was afraid of the way people might treat a Jewish boy from Scarsdale.  I also had a conversation with a friend of mine this past fall about what criteria we were looking for in a school.  I mentioned that I wanted to go somewhere unlike Scarsdale in order to experience a different side of life.  My friend told me that he would only go to school somewhere where there was a large Jewish population, and he suspected that most of his friends would eventually be Jewish.  

In this week’s torah portion, Parashat Eikev, Moses warns his fellow Israelites before entering the land of milk and honey about the importance of maintaining their devotion to God, Judaism and the commandments.  God will provide all that we need and love each and every one of us, Moses explains, just as he guided them to the promised land. Then, Moses cautions his companions.  He warns them that in this new land, there will be those who are non-believers in God and the Jewish tradition.  Trying to capture God’s wrath in his fiery speech, Moses tells the Israelites that God will deliver to them all those who fail to pray to the one true God, and that all the images of their alternative Gods should be put to the flames. The Israelites will even have to “annihilate” all those who question their Jewish ways, Moses warns.  

Though our journey into a new land lacks the theatrics of the Israelites’, there are some similarities that are worth noting.  For most of our lives, my classmates and I have never been in a position where we have had to defend our religion to those who have not been exposed to Judaism and who therefore challenge or even reject our religion either out of hostility or ignorance.  Living in the “Scarsdale bubble,” we have, sometimes intentionally, been protected from those who have negative opinions about Jews.  The question that lies at hand here is now that we are entering new schools where we as Jews go from the majority to the minority, will we still standup for our religion and our traditions against those who make disparaging remarks?

The answer will be different for each Jewish classmate of mine as we move forward, but I believe that the true answer results from how comfortable we are with our own Jewish identity.  This issue is something that we discussed a lot in my Post-Confirmation class here at WRT the last two years lead by Cantor Abramson and Nadav .  Your Jewish identity is whatever you believe makes you Jewish.  This could include your connection to God, your appreciation of the Jewish holidays, your eagerness to continue your Jewish education or possibly your commitment to doing mitzvot by helping out the greater community.  The more comfortable we are with our own Jewish identity the more likely it is that we will stand up for our religion.
Our family spends a lot of time at a country house in Litchfield County, Ct, an area with a miniscule Jewish population.  I have spent every summer of my life there and have made many great friends.  Through my years up there, I have learned from exposure what it is like to live outside the “Scarsdale bubble.”  First, I have witnessed the phrase “He/She is such a Jew” thrown around.  When I was younger, I did not have the confidence to say that I found that to be offensive but now I speak up for myself or whoever is the victim of the remark.  Also, at least on one occasion I have had someone say to me, “you know, you don’t seem or look Jewish.”  When they say this, they mean it in a way that, to them, is almost a compliment and in which the proper response in their view would be “Thank you.”  My conjecture is that through their ignorance to Judaism they only see a Jew as someone who wears a yarmulke  all the time, wears teffilin, or tsit tsit under their shirts.  Lastly, I have a couple friends from my summer home who are half Jewish, having had one Jewish and one non-Jewish parent.  By this measure I too, am half Jewish, though these friends of mine are either non-observant Jews or Christian whereas I have been raised exclusively in the Reform Jewish tradition.  Oddly enough, though I have been friends with each of these friends for most of my life, I only discovered that they were half Jewish in the last two or three years.  After hearing them speak about their Jewish heritage in conversation, I have determined that they are all almost embarrassed by their Jewish background.  Whenever someone learns that they are half-Jewish, they always specify that they don’t practice Judaism almost out of fear of what the other person might be thinking of them.  Two weeks ago, someone was in an argument with one of my half- Jewish friends and, in a belittling tone called him a “Jew.”  Later, when my friend was telling me this story, I told him that he should have stood up for himself and for his Jewish heritage.  It became evident to me that he was not comfortable doing that.  After reflecting on this event, I realized that part of the reason these friends of mine are too timid to confront those who think poorly about Jews is because they don’t have a strong connection to Judaism and have not formed their Jewish identity.  I, along with many of my classmates from high school who went to WRT, are lucky enough to have had the guidance of this temple in forming our Jewish identity.  
Just as Moses pleaded to the Israelites not to abandon their God or their teachings and to confront all those who denied the validity of their religion, I believe it is essential for my classmates and I to carry our connection to Judaism with us as we enter college.  We must be strong enough to take aim at those who mock our religion.  Most importantly, I hope that my Jewish classmates have all acquired the tools through religious school and other Jewish traditions to be able to educate those who are misinformed about what it means to be Judaism.  After all, misinformation is often the root of biases against unfamiliar cultures and religions.  I wish all of my classmates the best in their future endeavors and to enjoy the exciting journey ahead of us.  

Tisha B'Av

This past Saturday night, as a Reform Jewish community we held a service to observe Tisha B'Av, or the 9th of Av. The 9th of Av recalls a series of tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people over the millennia.  For more information about Tisha B'Av check out the articles at MyJewishLearning.com on Tisha B'Av.  

Our big challenge as articulated by Rabbi Blake, is how do we observe Tisha B'Av as Reform Jews? The destruction of the Temple marked for the Jewish people a radical shift in how they interacted with their tradition.   The Rabbinic reformation created a Judaism that was no longer tied to the Temple Cult, and for many Reform Jews today, they cannot even conceive of a world where the Temple operates as it did 2000 years ago.

My answer throughout the evening, and in my teaching was to consider the experience of national tragedy that Tisha B'Av represents.  Tisha B'Av represents those moments where our lives are radically changed and marred by severe tragedy. The book of Lamentations in our Tanach is an written lament that describes the tragedy that was experienced in a post 586 BCE world after the destruction of the first Temple.   Lamentations Rabbah was created to respond to the tragedy of the destruction of the second Temple in 70 CE.  By writing and expressing the pain of the tragedy in a public form, there is some catharsis and the possibility for hope.  

Therefore, I shared a variety of texts that described situations that merited a lament.   Those moments that as a people, as an individual, or as a smaller community there was a need to stop and reflect, and hopefully move forward after such intense pain.   The texts have been reproduced below to spark your own thoughts about experiences that merit lament.  Those experiences that are tragic, and yet have some kernel of hope that things might get better.    

Laments through the ages

The Hittite “Prayer of Kantuzilis” Circa 1350 BCE

Would that my god might now freely open his heart and soul to me and tell me my fault so that I might learn about it! . . . My god who was angry and rejected me—let the same god care for me again and grant me life! Would that my god who forsook me might take pity on me!. . . See! I, Kantuzilis, thy servant have asked for mercy and humbled myself.

Lamentations 5:21-22 circa 586 BCE

כא  הֲשִׁיבֵנוּ יְהוָה אֵלֶיךָ ונשוב (וְנָשׁוּבָה), חַדֵּשׁ יָמֵינוּ כְּקֶדֶם.	5:21 Turn to us Adonai, and we will return, renew us as in the days of old.
כב  כִּי אִם-מָאֹס מְאַסְתָּנוּ, קָצַפְתָּ עָלֵינוּ עַד-מְאֹד.  {ש}	5:22 Unless You have utterly rejected us And are exceedingly angry with us.

There is None to Comfort: Lamentations Rabba 1:26, (Buber, pp. 61-2), Soncino, p. 96 Circa 70 CE

אין לה מנחם. א"ר לוי כל מקום שנאמר אין הוה לה, ותהי שרי עקרה אין לה ולד )בראשית י“א:ל‘(, והוה לה, שנאמר וה' פקד את שרה )שם בראשית כ“א :א‘(, ודכוותיה ולחנה אין ילדים )ש"א שמואל א' א:ב‘(, והוה לה, שנאמר כי פקד ה' את חנה וגו' )שם שמואל א' ב‘:כ“א(, ודכוותיה ציון היא דורש אין לה )ירמיה ל‘:י“ח(, והוה לה, שנאמר ובא לציון גואל )ישעיה נ“ט:כ‘( ובא לציון גואל, אף כן את אומר אין לה מנחם, והוה לה, שנא' )ישעיהו נ"א:י“ב( אנכי אנכי הוא מנחמכם.

She has none to comfort her. Rabbi Levi said: Wherever it says, has none (אין לה), it indicates that there would be in the future.* [For instance], and Sarai was barren; she had no child; [Genesis 11:30] but she did have one later, as it is said, And Adonai remembered Sarah [ibid. 21:1]. Similarly, But Hannah had no children [I Samuel 1:2] she did have them later, as it is said, So Adonai remembered Hannah [ibid. 2:21]. Similarly, She is Zion, there is none that cares for her [Jeremiah 30:17]; but she will have one later, as it is said, And a redeemer will come to Zion [Isaiah 49:20]. In like manner you may say, She has none to comfort her; but she will have later, as it is said, I, even I, am He that comforts you. [Isaiah 51:12].



Beliefs by Peter Steinfels New York Times, August 31, 2002

Where was God on Sept. 11 is an inevitable question because Sept. 11 was exceptional, something confronted. Collectively. It is a necessary and valuable question, however, because it asks about something unexceptional where was God yesterday and where is God today? - and too often confronted alone.
Contemporary religious thinkers are acutely aware that there can be no "good" answer about terrible situations just least-bad answers. The least-bad ones encompass more of one's whole experience of life than the others.
In the case of Sept. 11, not a few voices have answered that God was right in the midst of the horror, especially in the heroism and self-sacrifice.

A Lament for Baghdad by Rabbi David Levy, December 2011

My fatherland.   Cut off from me.   Torn by war. No Jews on the streets. A place that is defined by uncertainty. A place that the Jews left 60 years ago.    Why did they leave?  Why did they leave everything behind? Why did you hear calls for Jewish blood?   Some say, because of the new Israeli state.  Some say, because of the pogroms of 1941, the Farhoud.  Some say, the neighbors they had, for 2500 years suddenly became foreign to them.   Yet that place still remains a part of our memory.   That place, where Jews wrote the Talmud.  That place where Jews had been a partner in building a glorious society. That place between the two rivers. Gone was the partnership.  Gone into a century of uncertainty.    Gone are the happy Jews in a Muslim country.      Did my Great Grandfather not serve in the Turkish Army in World War I? Did my Grandfather not help build the railroad system throughout the country?   Did my Great Grandfather not invest in the Iraqi economy to help it grow? Where were these contributions when the Farhoud began? Where were the generations of Muslim and Jewish coexistence when the Moussad smuggled Jews to the fledgling Israeli state?  Where was our history, our pride in our country? We had hoped that this war would mark a turning point, that the American troops would change our city into a place which was tolerant and safe.   Chanukah candles were lit in Saddam’s palace.An American Iraqi Jewish JAG walked the streets of Baghdad, under armed guard, but could not wander on his own.  He experienced his family’s history with his own feet.

There is progress in Baghdad; there is hope for the future.   There is progress; there is free voting and free elections albeit marred by violence.  There is progress, US Troops have left.

But today only eight Jews remain.   Eight Jews in place of thousands.  The streets that my ancestors walked down, when will I be able to wander those streets? When will Baghdad be safe again? When will it be safe for me to visit one of my homes?

The Olympics

In response to the Olympics opening ceremony this past Friday, I made some remarks at Friday night services regarding what I have perceived to be a mistake that the Olympic committee is making by not recognizing the tragic murders of 40 years ago.


In Paris, on November 25th, 1892, Pierre de Coubertin stated, in his attempt to resurrect the Olympic Games: "That is the true Free Trade of the future; and the day it is introduced into Europe the cause of Peace will have received a new and strong ally..."in the Olympic Games.

This utopian vision was a huge part of the 19th century.  The wonderful ideal that we could overcome humanity’s foibles, and enter a messianic age brought about by our own actions, without waiting for G-d to do it for us.   For the Jewish people this vision was manifest in the ideals of the Reform Movement and Zionism.  Each of these were amazing visions of what the world could be, and a belief in humanity’s capacity to create that world.   

This vision of a world perfected by humanity’s activities was shattered time and again, in each moment where humanity’s capacity for evil has been presented throughout the 20th century.  Tonight marks one of the moments where the olympic vision of collaboration and as a symbol for peace was broken. Tonight marks the 40th anniversary of the 11 Israeli athletes and one German police officer slain by terrorists in Munich in 1972.   This tragedy that marrs Coubertin’s olympic vision was not officially recognized by the olympic community by a moment of silence in today’s opening ceremony.  In an attempt to provide a tikkun, a repair, for their choice not to remember these fallen men and women, before the Kaddish this evening, we will take a moment to remember those that died in munich so tragically 40 years ago.


Growing up my Rabbi, Howard Herman of Farmington Valley Jewish Congregation, included every Jewish tragedy of the 20th century along with our regular Kaddish remembrance including the 11 Israeli olympiads. By making it our minhag, our custom to recall those that died in tragedy and al kiddush haShem, for the sanctification of G-d's name he reminded us week to week that the world we live in is not yet perfected, but is one that is marred by war and turmoil. However, it is out of that ideal of the 19th century, that we can perfect the world, that we as a Jewish community still strive to make our world closer to a world perfected. For while the 20th century has taught us that the ability to perfect our world is a challenge, and far from a reality, we remember the words of Pirkei Avot,
לא עליך כל המלאכה לגמור, ולא אתה בן חורין ליבטל

It is not incumbent upon you to complete the work, but neither are you at liberty to desist from it (Pirkei Avot 2:21)

The work is hard, and the vision is vast, but we will continue to work towards a better world, in which those that have fallen will be remembered for their sacrifice.  

Parashat Matot-Masei

Below please find this week's d'var Torah by our congregant Vic Goldberg. 

Matot and Ma'sei,  this week's portions, deal with the end of the years in the wilderness,  and the things that God tells Moses to instruct the Israelite people, including "you shall take possession of the Promised Land and settle in it;"  "how to apportion it among yourselves", and the warning that "if you do not dispossess the inhabitants of the land, those who you allow to remain will be stings in the eyes and thorns in the sides, and they shall harass you in the land in which you live."   Pretty powerful  narrative, with painful relevance today.   But one wonders what the Moabite narrative might have been;  they who were to be on the receiving end of this settlement. 

Conflicting narratives about Israel came to the forefront of my life about nine years ago.  I was completing  13 years as vice chairman of the Institute of International Education...best known for administering the Fulbright scholarships and 250 other international exchange programs, ....and  I wanted to do something in gratitude for how that opportunity had enriched my life.  The CEO there asked me what was important in my life, and Israel immediately came to mind. 

As a young American Jew in 1948, (I was 15 years old), I lived in Chicago next door to immigrants with numbers on their forearms, near a parochial school whose students thought I killed Christ, and I was totally drawn to  this new nation, a safe place for Jews which embodied the cultural and moral values with which I was raised.

Now here I was in 2004, having watched nothing but strife in the Middle East for all my adult life, wondering what if anything could bring peace to this Jewish Homeland I had cherished all my life.  Clearly political leadership  had failed, ..... and maybe only work at the grassroots level could form the basis of lasting peace down the road. 

And so, I envisioned a Middle East Peace Prize.  To win it you had to have two people, one Jewish Israeli and one Arab Muslim, working together at the grass roots.  I joked that we should have called it the Don Quixote IIE Prize for Peace in the Middle East, since there was a serious possibility that we would be unable to find a Jewish Israeli and an Arab Muslim working together for peace….one of whom had had a connection to an international exchange program in which IIE was involved.  But we have done so, with no shortage of candidates, for 8 years running.

The winners of the first prize in 2005 dealt directly with this issue of conflicting narratives.  Dan Bar On and Sami Adwan were both college professors, Dan at Ben Gurion University and Sami at Bethlehem University.  They had constructed a middle school history textbook for four historical periods: the Balfour declaration, the 1948 war, the Yom Kippur War and the first Intifada.  On the left hand side of each page was the Israeli narrative, on the right was the Arab narrative, and the middle was composed of the blank lines of a workbook.  To develop the textbook they sometimes had to meet  across checkpoints; and to train 10 Israeli and 10 Palestinian teachers, they eventually had to fly them to Crete for joint sessions.  To this day, neither the Israeli Ministry of Education nor the Palestinian Ministry of Education have approved this textbook.  But with the book's intervening historical periods now complete,  it is being used at the University level, and so the work is not in vain.

The 2006 Prize went to an all Israeli team, one Jewish, one Muslim, that established an Arab Israeli Community Center In Jaffa.

The 2007 Prize to a team that established the first intregrated school in Israel, with student enrollment and faculty, each balanced 50/50  and with Jewish and Muslim Co-Directors. They have since expanded to three schools.

2008 to founders of a bereavement group called Parents Circle: a Jew who lost his daughter to a suicide bombing in Tel Aviv, and a Palestinian whose brother was released from an Israeli prison... beaten so badly that he died shortly thereafter.

2009 to the founders of a Young Professionals Alliance between Israeli Jews and Palestinians. 

2010 to a former member of an elite IDF army unit and a self described Palestinian intifada fighter who formed a group called Combatants for Peace.

2011 to two women working in Be'er Sheva for the civil rights of Bedouins.

and 2012 to two Israelis, one Jewish, one Muslim each heading an organization devoted to civil rights within Israel, who file joint briefs to the Israeli Supreme Court on civil rights issues involving women, Muslims, gays, ...and Jews striving to live their lives unrestricted by Haredeem and other Orthodox forces.

My wife Pat and I go to Israel each year to present the prize and each year are in awe of what the winners have done.  These absolutely heroic people have internalized scripture which is quite different from this week's portion:   Leviticus 19:18, "love thy neighbor as thyself."  More to the point, from Rabbi Hillel: "What is hateful to you, do not do unto your fellow man. That is the whole Torah.  All the rest is commentary: go and learn it."

In some years, the winning teams have been composed of one Palestinian and one Israeli.  In other years, both winners have been Israeli citizens.   Where both have been Israeli citizens, the work has been focused on civil rights, and it strongly evokes the civil rights struggles in the United States in the last half of the 20^th century. 

I remember as a boy on a trip to the American South seeing the water fountains and bathrooms with signs designating “white only.”  I remember the tumultuous years in which African Americans fought to get the legal right to vote; and the continuing battle for equal educational and economic opportunity. 

I also remember the active role many American Jews played in those historical efforts.  And well we should have!  Having for centuries been the victim of discrimination, it was, and is, only proper that we help others to be freed from it.  That lesson sometimes seems lost in the Israel of today, but I think that same positive progress can happen there.  And it will require very similar effort.  It will require action ....by citizens who are conscious of the disconnnect between their moral heritage and the realities of their society,… and who are willing to get out of their comfort zone and use all the tools at their disposal to pressure their government and their society for change.  All in all, however, In this area of Israeli civil rights, I am somewhat optimistic. 

In the area of finding peace with the Palestinians, however, my optimism has pretty much vanished.  In past years, the necessity and inevitability of a two-state solution seemed to be a given.  But on our trip last month, the secular Israeli liberals seemed dispirited, an increasingly powerless portion of society, ....with Mr. Netanyahu focusing on disputes with the religious parties over military service.   And a week ago, the report of a Netanyahu-appointed commission recommending that all the illegal settlements should be declared legal, could presage a disastrous turn away from the two-state solution, .....which has been the cornerstone of hope for those who seek long term peace in the Middle East.....the only solution that will allow a state that is both Jewish and democratic.

I believe that failure to establish a separate Palestinian state will still leave us with a Jewish state, ....but given birth rates of the Palestinians and the Orthodox Jews, not one that is democratic.  We cringe at the term "apartheid," but that is pretty descriptive of what will be, and what will happen. 

I don't think the Israeli government has really digested the lessons of the Arab Spring, or the ramifications of Palestinians adopting, ....not arms which the IDF could crush, ....but massive Martin Luther King-type peaceful protests.  Nor the kind of international sanctions that forced well-intentioned employers like Ford and IBM, who were hiring and promoting blacks and coloreds,.... to leave South Africa, when major pension funds threatened divestiture of their stock.  Failure to achieve a two-state solution will be very bad for Israel, for the United States, and for Jews in general.

Living alongside others has been a challenge from even before biblical times.  And sometimes whole societies have vanished.  Things don't necessarily work out okay in the end.  We're still in a wilderness, and narratives remain to be written.  But it's the Middle East;  and it's full of tribal lunatics; and the Israelis and the Palestinians continue to take turns missing opportunities for peace. I  still believe that grass roots efforts between Arabs and Jews are the best chance to one day force rational change.  I just fear that time is running out.  I hope and pray Israeli's are up to the task of peace, for it means their survival.  It will break my heart if they aren’t.

Pinchas 5772: Reflections on Interfaith Marriage

Why do we Hate Balaam? Musings on Parashat Balak 5772

As I sat on the phone formulating my response, I stewed.  I stewed with desire to unload my anger against a giant corporation that in my mind was willfully, and cruelly blocking my ability to close on my home so that I could live a normal life.  All these emotions welled up within me as finally the other end of the line picked up, and suddenly I had a human being to speak with instead of my image of what that human being would be.  Try as I might, as much as I wanted to spew the curses that had been welling up within me, as much as I desired to make her feel my pain in her very being, blessing spilled forth from my lips. Words of thanks, and appreciation  were all I could say once i was in the presence of this sweet and caring human being. As I told many people later, the woman on the other end of the phone was from the midwest, the odds were that she was going to be pretty nice on the phone.   
Moving to Westchester turned out to be much more of a journey than I had expected. My family and I spent five weeks “in between homes” on our way to our new home in Port Chester. I still do not know how or why it took five weeks to get this done, however, on that journey I had a number of experiences. This experience of interacting with a person I felt like I needed to hate, brought me back to our parashah. For it is throughout our parashah that Balaam consistently tries to curse another group of people, namely the Israelites, yet the words that come out of his mouth are consistently words of praise, as I will sing from our text:

23:5. How goodly are your tents, O Jacob, your dwelling places, O Israel!

ה. מַה טֹּבוּ אֹהָלֶיךָ יַעֲקֹב מִשְׁכְּנֹתֶיךָ יִשְׂרָאֵל:

And yet our tradition has hated Balaam even though these beautiful words came from his mouth.   Our biblical text rarely has a kind word to spare for him, and our talmudic text is scathing, where throughout the text his epithet is not simply Balaam but wicked Balaam! He is described as plotting secretly against the Israelites, and some of the allegations against him are simply appalling. 
So I wonder: What is it about Balaam that is so horrendous? How is it that a person who speaks so positively of Israel, is so vilified?  Balaam as a character has a few key traits that create this perfect storm of hatred.  However, the one I wish to focus on is that we never meet him. 
How can I say that you may ask? We read about him in the Torah, we are reading about him this week in our parashah.  Yet, how does Balaam interact with our people the Israelites in the desert? From a distance. From a vantage point where he is looking down at the Israelites, and the beautiful words that he speaks time and again, are described as being put into his mouth by G-d. Other than his death, Balaam is never described as interacting with any Israelite. (Numbers 31:8)
No it is in part for the exact same reason I was so ready to loathe the person on the other line that we as a people have been uncomfortable with Balaam.  He’s an unknown.  He’s never been in our presence, never had a conversation, he’s only talked to G-d, and in the end he barely listened to what G-d had to say.  

So I wonder what that has to say about our own perceptions of other people that we may never meet.   How often do we give ourselves the opportunity to be in someone else’s shoes rather than dissecting them based upon what we perceive? How often do we stop and take a moment to process where they are in the world before we assume certain stereotypes about them?

Susan T. Fiske, a noted social psychologist, has recently done quite a bit of research on this particular question. She argues that our perception of people stems from our preconceived view of their role in society. Her study suggests that we see most groups that we are not a part of as either envied groups, or scorned groups.  Envied groups are often seen as “ ...competent, but we view them as not on our side, so they seem cold...and untrustworthy.”(

http://www.russellsage.org/visiting-scholars/susan-t-fiske-interview)

 On the other hand, we have scorned groups.  In a recent study, Fiske showed images of characteristically scorned groups to participants who were in a Functional MRI machine, and monitored their brain patterns when seeing the scorned groups. The area of the brain that recognizes other people did not light up when the participants viewed members of the scorned groups.   “Fiske suspects that this hesitation to value the lives of those we scorn comes from not fully recognizing members of scorned groups as fellow human beings.”

(http://www.apa.org/monitor/2010/10/compassion.aspx)

It is so easy to ascribe any motive or emotion to a group of unknown people.  To say that any person, based upon their job, political allegiance, or simply their appearance makes them a caricature of everything we imagine they are capable of.   What is infinitely more challenging is to take the deep breath, and step back and try to see the people we are interacting with as far more than merely thoughtless automatons that represent everything we imagine they are.  Rather our challenge is to take a moment, and try to see the person as a human being, created in G-d’s image, and therefore worthy of being recognized as a individual regardless of their opinion, position or group affiliation.

A few years ago a book came out entitled: Why We Hate Us by Dick Meyer.   The premise of the book was deeper than the title, he argued that a deeper social shift was occurring in American society creating this erosion of trust and morality. However, his title and many of his examples throughout the book ring true: we hate us.  A short excerpt from his book provides a multitude of examples: “They loathe snails who drive slowly in the left lane. They don't like people who talk full volume about the heartbreak of their psoriasis on cell phone headsets in restaurants and quiet bookstores....They don't like it when they're talking with someone who starts thumbing their little digital personal device to answer an email from someone five hundred miles away.”
(

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93261726)

Our challenge throughout our lives is to not reduce people to things.   To not look out at that person who is doing something that irritates us, and group them together into this faceless mass that not only irks us but enrages us.   That we don’t look out at a random stranger and see the wicked Balaam, the unknown entity, but a fellow human being created in the divine Image.

Joining this community, it is with great joy that I look forward to seeing that spark within each of you as I come to know you over the years.  I hope that I will not be a faceless Rabbi to you, and that all of you will not be a throng of congregants to me.  Rather as a Kehilah Kedoshah, a holy community we work together to know each other and continue to make WRT, our community, a place to be proud of, and most importantly, our home.   

Shabbat Shalom.