Wednesday, July 25, 2012

This Week's Drashot


The Western Wall on Tisha B'Av


A Rationale for the Fast
Friday, 27 July 2012

Some years ago, whilst serving in the US Navy I volunteered for aircrew duty.  As a candidate for combat flight, I had to attend a course called SERE.  The name is an acronym for Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape.  Someday, I will be happy to regale you with some stories from this unique training.  For now, suffice it to say that we had to march vigorously through a forest for three days with nothing to eat and very little to drink, whilst being pursued relentlessly by a simulated enemy.  On the third day, as I sat on a mountainside resting before the next task, I had an epiphany.  I thought, Now I know that Yom Kippur is no big deal.  And since then, I have never complained about having to fast:  not on Yom Kippur, not on any other day of obligation, and not for any medical test.
This is Shabbat Hazon, the Shabbat immediately preceding the Fast of Tisha B’Av.  Fast days are problematic for us Jews today.  I’m not sure why, but I do have some thoughts on the matter.
It’s not because of the greying of our congregations.  After all, anyone with a health condition that contraindicates fasting, and that includes many seniors, is not only exempt from fasting but is prohibited from doing so under Jewish law.  Also, pregnant or nursing mothers, among others.
I think the difficulty of observing fast days stems from ‘Religious Obligation Fatigue.’ We bristle at the notion that, because we are Jews, we are obligated to do this or refrain from doing that.  And this mindset is particularly true in Progressive Jewish Circles.
I’ve been told: “I’m Reform.  We don’t do kashrut.”  Or fasts.  Or learn Hebrew.  Or whatever.  There’s no question that some Jews who gravitate toward the Progressive expression, do so based on a desire for a Judaism that carries little – or no – element of obligation.
Without that element of obligation, there’s really no Judaism.  Most religion is based on some degree of obligation, and our religion epitomizes this.  But Judaism, even in its most vigorous forms, does not demand an ascetic lifestyle of us.  If we’re living in accordance with Torah, we’re living lives of joy, celebration, and yes, even fun!  But our Tradition does make demands of us.  So if we’re required to fast a handful of days per year, assuming good health and constitution, it shouldn’t be a big deal.
But the idea of ‘obligation’ doesn’t resonate in this age.  Perhaps this is because contemporary life in the secular realm imposes so many obligations upon us.
Our elevated desire for stuff and the impermanence of our marriage commitments forces women to engage in high powered careers and child-rearing, rather than choosing between the two.  As difficult as that choice can be, it probably isn’t nearly as hard as doing both…and doing both well.  So many of our women, even though they continually surprise us with what they are capable of accomplishing, feel stretched thin and stressed out.
On the subject of women!  The sexual revolution, my generation’s great ‘gift’ to the world, has brought women little joy.  Perhaps it should have freed women to enjoy sexual pleasure without worrying about the consequences of an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy.  Instead, it has made women feel forced to behave in the way that men do by instinct – to engage in serial casual relationships.  This, in order to ‘prove’ that they’re ‘liberated’ and freed from the constraints of bygone eras.  This, even though study after study shows that such behaviours bring women little or no lasting joy.
How about all the ways that we are able to instantly communicate with one another no matter where we happen to be?  These should be a blessing, but they have become a burden that prevents us from relaxing and unwinding.  Our weekly work hours have crept upward, and our ability to communicate blurs the line between work and leisure.  As a result, we seldom feel really relaxed.
Perhaps with all these additional ‘obligations’ imposed by contemporary life, it is not surprising that we rebel in the one area where we feel free to do so – religion.  To the ‘enlightened’ contemporary spirit, religion is after all a relic.  Many of us ‘cling’ to religion beyond reason, despite having been stripped of our faith long ago, out of a sense of loyalty, habit, or both.  Since we cannot rationally defend religious faith, we prefer it ‘lite.’  We want the ‘good’ effect of religion – the sense of belonging, the comfort of continuity, and the certainty of eternity – without it making any undue demands upon us.
Fast days, then are really a hard sell.  And this one, the Fast of Tisha B’Av that will begin at sunset tomorrow, is a particularly difficult sell in our Progressive communities.
What we’re commemorating with this fast, most elementally, is that both the First and Second Temples were destroyed on this day:  in the years 586 BCE and 70 CE, respectively.  So we’re mourning with this fast, that we no longer have the capability of offering animal and material sacrifices upon the fiery altar on Mt. Zion.  Now don’t get all broken up about that…
Seriously, I’m guessing there are few in this room tonight who in their heart or hearts, wish for the return of the priestly cultus.  Many Jews do so wish.  Among Orthodox Jews there is an intense longing for the coming of the Messianic Age.  This epoch, it is envisioned, will see the rebuilding of the Temple and the resumption of its sacrifices.  But not all Jews share that sentiment.  If not, why mourn publicly, including fasting, to commemorate the destruction of the means for conducting the sacrifices?
Maybe it adds to the motivation to fast and mourn that other, more recent tragic events have happened on Tisha B’Av.  The Jews were expelled from England by royal decree on the Ninth of Av in 1290.  And from Spain in 1492.  In 1914 on this Hebrew date, Germany declared war on Russia.  In the minds of many historians of the 20th century, this outbreak of the First World War actually set the stage for the Second World War – and the Shoah.  Fast forward to the 1940’s.  Himmler presented the blueprint for the Final Solution on this day in 1940.  And in 1942, the siege of the Warsaw Ghetto began.
          So even if the idea of mourning the fall of the two Temples doesn’t move you to fast, it’s hard not to see the tragic element in the totality of tzuress that has befallen the Jews on Tisha B’Av.  One would have to be heartless to look at this great sweep of events and not wonder; what convergence of forces caused all those tragedies on this particular day in various years of our history? 
        The rabbis suggest that the biggest tragedy of the fall of the two Temples is that neither had to happen, and neither would have happened except for baseless hatred of Jew against Jew.  This sin’at hinam weakens us, enabling outside forces to exploit that weakness for their malevolent ends.
          If we accept this notion, then the lesson is clear.  Jewish disunity, to the point of baseless hatred, opens the door for bad things – very bad things – to happen to us.  We’ve always got an enemy waiting to destroy us.  We like to shrey gevalt about that, and perhaps we should.  But must we make that enemy’s ‘job’ easier by weakening our people with baseless hatred of Jew against Jew?
This is not to ‘blame the victim.’ But there’s no good reason the Jews should be victims again and again.  Even if it’s a given that we’re never going to agree on everything, why can’t we love our fellow Jew through our disagreements?  Why must we be so stalwart in our opinions, that we have trouble seeing the merits of those who differ?
Rabbi Irving ‘Yitz’ Greenberg, founder of Clal, said of Jewish sectarianism:  “It doesn’t matter what movement in Jewish life you belong to.  As long as you’re ashamed of it.” What I think he meant, is that we should hold our own movement up to the highest standards.  We should be ashamed when our own movement doesn’t live up to its promise.  This, instead of resenting the other movements for their shortcomings.  Greenberg is an Orthodox rabbi.  This Progressive rabbi agrees, and wishes his own movement would do better.
This is why you’ve heard me express dissatisfaction with Progressive Judaism tonight.  I’m proud to be a Progressive Jew.  But I’m ashamed of the ways that we do not live up to our potential as Jews.  It concerns me when we cannot model for our children a joyful and positive religious faith worth emulating.  It concerns me when I hear endless criticism of more traditional streams of Judaism from among our members.
This is something worth thinking about as we prepare for Tisha B’Av.  And if it’s worth thinking about, it’s worth acting upon.  Perhaps you shall fast starting tomorrow night, or perhaps you shall not.  Whichever the case may be, I hope you will take some time out to feel ashamed for the ways you fail to have positive regard for your fellow Jew.  Think about the unrealized potential; not only of our own Progressive Movement, but of the Jewish people as a whole.  If there were a keener sense of Jewish unity, we would be farther down the path of realizing our potential.  And we would be far less susceptible to the evil designs of our enemies.
It’s no fun to go without food and drink for 24 hours.  It’s not fun to have nagging obligations deter us from enjoying our weekend.  But I’m willing to do this, to help me to focus on what I need to do as a Jew.  I’m willing to do this, to help me remember to love my fellow Jew.  I’m willing to do this, to prepare myself to be a positive force in bringing unity and the strength that brings.  Will you join me?

Member of Black September on the balcony of the Israeli Athletes' Apartment
 in Munich, 1972 

Why Make the Olympics into Something They’re Not?
Saturday, 28 July 2012

I’m going to make a confession.  I’m not a big fan of the Olympic Games, or of large-scale sporting games or contests in general.  I never have been.  Over the years, people have looked upon me as un-manly or as otherwise suspect for my lack of interest in watching sports on television or going to the stadium to take in a game. But it’s just the way that I am.
          And I’ll be happy to tell you why I am the way I am.  I don’t find that athletic contests uplift the soul.  I have never had a talent for sports.  I completely lack the skills necessary to throw, catch, run and whatnot.  As a child, I was always the odd one left standing after the two teams had chosen sides, or I was the last one chosen.  In sports such as baseball or football, I could be consigned to a position where I wouldn’t damage the team’s chances too much.  In a rotating position sport such as volleyball where I could not be shunted aside, my teammates were always invading my play zone.  This, because they didn’t believe that I would perform at a critical moment.  So the whole youth athletics thing was heartbreaking for me, not uplifting.  And the heartbreaking aspect is not that I do not excel in such contests.  It’s that children, even at a very young age, are focused on winning to the exclusion of all other benefit from sport.
          So I never pushed my children to go out for sports.  I would never be one of those parents who try to live out their dreams of athletic glory, and the disappointments of their own failures, through their children.  I just wanted my children, when they weren’t busy with school work, to have fun.
          Some people think that athletics build character, and I’m sure they can. But the generalisation is inaccurate.  Look at the scandals that plague athletics, both amateur and professional.  Look at the number of times that elite athletes have engaged in doping, or taken steroids or other performance-enhancing drugs.  Look at the aggressive and anti-social behaviour of so many elite athletes, both on and off the field.
          But the tawdry behaviour is not limited to the athletes themselves.  No, elite athletic contests, whether amateur or professional, seem to bring out the worst in their coaches, organisers, and officials.  And fans!  None of those involved seems to be free of pressures to behave in unethical ways, and many succumb to the pressures.
          The joy of sport is not lost on me.  But it is tempered by the way that sport seems to make people behave.  Combined with my own experiences where playing sports was more an ordeal than a joy, it leads me to see sport as something that can be positive…but often, sadly, is not.  It’s seldom about building character.  It’s simply about winning.  And that, in and of itself, is not necessarily a bad thing.  But it’s no great virtue either.
          For that reason, I’m not terribly up in arms about the controversy over the Summer Olympics about to kick off in London this weekend.  Unless you have spent the past few weeks buried in the sand or on a deserted island without TV and cell phone service, you know what I’m talking about.  This Olympic Games marks the 40th anniversary of what is arguably the most tragic event in the history of the games.  40 years ago, terrorists of Black September stormed one of the apartments of the Israeli Olympic team in Munich, took 11 members of the team hostage, and murdered all of them.  One German officer was also killed in a failed rescue attempt.
          It is not to the shame of the Olympic Games that this attack happened.  Nobody blames the Olympics for the savagery and opportunism of the Palestinian terrorists.  It was clear, as has been abundantly documented for the record that the West German government wilfully failed to prepare for the eventuality of the attack despite being tipped off in advance.  They also badly botched the rescue attempt.  These shortcomings were not the fault of the Olympic organisers or participants.  But it can be argued that it was to the shame of the event’s organisers and participants that the games went on almost as if the hostage-taking had not taken place.  And I am hereby making that argument.  Only a handful of individual athletes withdrew from the game in solidarity with their murdered Israeli colleagues.  The team of the Philippines returned home.  The Egyptian and Algerian teams left, but preposterously because they stated they feared Israeli reprisals against them, not out of protest for the murdered Israelis.
          It is also to the shame of the Olympic Games, that a minute of silence was not observed last night during the games’ opening ceremonies in remembrance of the 40th yahrzeit of the murdered Israeli athletes.  In 2010 at the Winter Olympics in Vancouver, a moment of silence was observed for an athlete who died in a training accident while preparing for the games.  Nobody minded.  But the International Olympic Committee has repeatedly declined to hold a moment of silence for the Israeli athletes.  And not just this year.  This year’s campaign for a moment of silence is a replay of a similar campaign during the run-up to the 2002 Winter Games, marking the Israelis’ 30th yahrzeit.
          It is unfortunate that some of us Jews believe that the world does not care about the lives of Jews.  It is unfortunate that some of us Jews believe that we are actively hated by people all around the world, from a wide variety of religious and national traditions.  But it is most unfortunate that events such as the Olympic Games’ clear callousness toward the Israeli athletes murdered 40 years ago, give even the Jew who is not inclined to paranoia, cause to think these things.  And remember that thinking the world is against you doesn’t necessarily make you paranoid.  Especially when there is enough evidence of the world’s being against you to make a rational case for the existence of that hatred.  And I think that there is enough evidence, by a mile.
          What should individual delegations, including the Israelis, do?  I’m not the one to prescribe.  But I think a number of meaningful gestures are possible.  Teams could march into the stadium wearing black armbands.  Or with their national colours at half-mast.  There are a number of ways to make a clear statement while still participating.  But I don’t know about you; I’m not holding my breath waiting to see what the various delegations do.  Even the American and Australian teams, even after President Obama and Prime Minister Gillard publicly advocated for the moment of silence.
          So watch the Olympics, cheer for the winners of the various contests, and root for the Australians – or whoever rates your loyalties – to bring home medals.  Enjoy the games.  Take pleasure at the sight of young people reaching for their personal best.  But do not be fooled into thinking that sporting contests and the athletes who compete in them represent that which is best in a nation.  To be sure, there are many athletes who are outstanding young citizens.  But there are many competing who sadly, care only about themselves.  And do not be fooled into thinking that the Glory of Sport is a pure spirit that brings goodness into the world.  Sport is exciting and fun.  But there is nothing especially ‘pure’ about sport or its participants.  And there is nothing especially ‘pure’ about the Olympic Movement in particular.  As soon as we accept that, we can cease being continually disappointed by its organisers and participants.  
          But even though I advocate we not be overly exercised at the Olympic Movement, doesn’t mean we do not express our most profound grief and disappointment through prayer.  To that end, in a few minutes when we stand to unite our voices in the Mourners’ Kaddish, I shall to offer the prayer of the Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, Lord Jonathan Sacks, to mark the 40th yahrzeit of the Israeli athletes.

(The prayer reads:)
Almighty God:
We, the members of this holy congregation,
Together with members of all World Jewry and the Righteous of the Nations who are so moved,
(The previous line in Lord Sacks’ prayer reads “Together with members of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth”)
Join our prayers to the prayers of others throughout the world,
In remembrance of the eleven Israeli athletes
Brutally murdered in an act of terrorism,
At the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich,
Because they were Israelis,
Because they were Jews.
At this time in the Jewish year,
When we remember the destructions of our holy Temples,
And the many tragedies that have befallen our people throughout history,
We mourn their loss
And continue to protest against those who hate our people.
We pray to You, O God:
Comfort the families and friends of the Israeli athletes who continue to grieve
And grant eternal life to those so cruelly robbed of life on earth.
Just as we are united in grief,
Help us stay united in hope.
As we comfort one another under the shadow of death,
Help us strengthen one another in honouring life.
The Olympic message is one of peace, of harmony and of unity,
Teach us, Almighty God, to bring reconciliation and respect between faiths,
As we pray for the peace of Israel,
And for the peace of the world.
May this be Your will and let us say: Amen

Lord of the Ages, remember...
David Berger
Yossef Gutfreund
Moshe Weinberg
Eliezer Halfin
Mark Slavin
Yossef Romano
Kehat Shorr
Andre Spitzer
Amitzur Shapira
Yakov Springer
Ze’ev Friedman

(In Hebrew) …who have gone on to Eternity, by the merit that all of us pray for the remembrance of their souls.  Please, G-d of Mercy and Forgiveness, let their souls be bound up in the bond of life, and may their rest be honour, and let us say, Amen.

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