Saturday, June 2, 2012

Naso: A Treatise on Leadership

Call me America-centric, but I can think of no finer leader in history than George Washington!
John Edwards on Thursday, 31 May

As you can see, leadership was definitely on my mind when preparing my divrei Torah for this Shabbat.  Enjoy!

It’s About All of Us
A Drash for Parashat Naso
1 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

One of the most common pitfalls of leadership is to become full of oneself.  It is all too easy, when one’s role in an enterprise is pivotal, to allow one’s thinking to devolve to: “It’s all about me.” It is the reason that many leaders fall hard through their indiscretions.  If it’s all about me, then why should I be constrained by the same rules as everybody else?  This is often what seduces powerful men to act in ways that bring them down with humiliation, in the full view of the world.  In the US we’ve seen this play out over the last month with the saga of John Edwards.  He is the former senator and presidential candidate who was on trial for corruption over funneling campaign funds to his former mistress to buy her silence.  Although the judge declared a mistrial yesterday and Edwards won’t be going to prison, he is ruined and will spend the rest of his life in obscurity contemplating his failures.
           And of course a few years back we saw it all the way in the White House, in the scandal involving President Clinton, the intern and the blue dress. Other countries have had their own share of such scandals.  How about the dramatic downfall of Dominique Strauss-Kahn, chief of the International Monetary Fund, in a tawdry episode that sank his hopes of being the next president of France?
            When I started rabbinical school, many of my classmates were thinking about rabbinic careers in paths other than in the pulpit upon ordination.  But when our senior year arrived, most of my classmates entered the pulpit selection process.  What changed their minds?  For many, it was the experience of serving as a student rabbi in small congregations.  To breeze into town for the weekend, and face a bevy of activities where the key element is the presence of the student-rabbi, is extremely gratifying and seductive.  And I’m sure that Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion understands this phenomenon.  Surely the requirement to serve two years as a student-rabbi is intended specifically to seduce the rabbinical student to seek employment as a pulpit rabbi.  After all, the congregations of the Union for Reform Judaism support the college-institute.  They do so in order to ensure a continuing supply of new rabbis to fill the URJ’s pulpits.  If too many graduates of the rabbinical school go on to seek doctorates, or choose oddball paths – like becoming a military chaplain – then the congregations of the Union will not be well-served.  So it’s a good thing that pulpit work is seductive.
Look, I know I’ve set up a striking juxtaposition:  cheating politicians who fall from tawdry sex scandals on one hand, and rabbinical students who bypass academic careers to work in the pulpit instead on the other.  But it is not true that the same tendencies of human nature can produce a range of good and bad consequences, depending on the circumstances of the individual?  And what I’m talking about here is something very common to the human experience:  the tendency to be fooled into inflating one’s self-importance.  Politicians and the titans of the business world are certainly subject to it.  So are religious professionals.  And a lot of other people in between.
I was thinking about this over the last weekend.  I know that this congregation has experienced a vacuum in the area of professional rabbinic leadership over the last few years.  Had it not been for the efforts of a few key volunteers, especially the indefatigable Jan Marriot, the congregation would not have survived.  And it is not a disparagement of the skills and abilities of Jan – or anybody else – that many of you longed for rabbinic leadership.  I received so many e-mails from so many of you during the months between when you elected me to be your next rabbi, and when we finally received clearance to live in Australia, that I was keenly aware of the this longing.  And then last weekend, when Clara and I had finally arrived and I began my duties in this pulpit, it became even more clear how big an impact my just being here had on so many of you.
            It would therefore be easy for me to mistakenly think that this is all about me, and to allow myself to be sloppy or go astray.  But this week’s Torah portion is an important reminder that it’s not all about one person, or one faction of the people Israel.  Rather, it’s all about all of us.  That’s a lesson we can draw from Parashat Naso.
            In this portion, we read a litany of the exacting duties of the heads of the various tribes.  In particular, the Levites are warned that they must discharge their unique duties precisely, lest they die.  How much scandal by powerful men could be avoided if such leaders were told: “By the way, if you slip and fall in a scandal, you’re dead meat?”  Perhaps the powerful titans of the world would act with more discretion if they had such a threat hanging over their heads…
            The knowledge by the Levites that a transgression on their part would result in their deaths, surely served to keep their feet planted firmly on the earth.  It prevented their taking their duties lightly and thinking they could work less hard and be immune from blame because of their lofty position.  Because after all, it wasn’t all about them and their privileges.  It was about how, if they did their jobs correctly, they served to bring Divine favor upon the entire people.
            The so-called priestly blessing, which we shall read from the Torah tomorrow morning, is a reminder of this agency.  We’re all very familiar with this text.  It closes every service here at Temple Shalom, and in many other congregations worldwide.  At the end of the service, the leader stands in this pulpit and pronounces it.  Yevarechecha Adonai Veyismerecha.  Ya’er Adonai Panav elecha veychuneka.  Yisa Adonai panav elecha, vayasem lecha shalom.  May the Lord bless you and keep you.  May the Lord cause His countenance to shine upon you and be gracious unto you.  May the Lord lift up His countenance to you, and grant you peace.  Because of the grandeur of this pronouncement, I prefer to offer the English in the style of language found in the old Union Prayer Book.  After each of the three parts of the blessing, the congregation traditionally responds:  Ken Yehi ratzon.  May this be G-d’s will.
            In our rational minds, most of us do not believe that a mistake in pronouncing these words will prevent G-d’s favor from being bestowed upon the congregation.  But as I pointed out last week, religion transcends rationality.  I know that, if I were to stumble and err on these words, some of you would be taken aback, perhaps appalled.  And you would be justified.  I should never take my duties so lightly that I do not make sure I have rehearsed the words of important passages, to get them right.
            This knowledge of the ways that you are likely to respond to my mistakes, or indiscretions, helps to keep my ego in check.  This enterprise we call Temple Shalom is not about me, or about my need to call the shots.  It’s about how the things we do in this sanctuary and in this building, and even outside these premises in the name of our congregation, inspire each of us to live up to the highest aspirations of our Jewish tradition.  But if it’s not all about me, it also isn’t all about any one of us, no matter what positions we may hold in temple leadership.  This is something important to keep in mind as we approach the Annual General Meeting, at which you will elect a Board of Management to provide governance to the congregation for the next program year.  Thinking about standing for election?  Remember, it’s not all about you.  Approach the possibility of serving in elective office with a sense of awe, a sense of the incredible responsibility you will hold for the temple’s continued viability and well-being.
            The Levites in ancient Israel faced incredibly harsh sanctions if they should fail in their duties.  Leaders today, in public life in general or in the congregation in particular, face no threat of death should they err and come to think it’s all about them.  But when we read this week’s Torah portion, we should be reminded of the importance to the entire congregation.  It should remind us of the importance of working hard to get it right.  We should be reminded that, even if nobody will die should we get it wrong, our failure will nevertheless impact negatively on the community.  It will impair each member’s ability to derive benefit from their participation in our community’s main enterprises:  worship, learning, and Jewish fellowship. We who have been called to leadership positions in this holy congregation, whether professional or lay, must approach our duties with a sense of awe at the incredible responsibility we have accepted.  Instead of thinking about the perks of leadership, including the sense of control and the centrality of oneself, we should always remember that it’s about all of us.  If we do manage to keep this perspective, then we shall succeed in leading this congregation from strength to strength.


Leaders Must Lead
A Drash for Parashat Naso
2 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

Have you ever witnessed a fundraiser where the biggest donor issued what is called a ‘Challenge Pledge’?  It works like this:  the big donor declares a challenge on to double the amount of all pledges made within a certain span of time.  If the pledges of all the donors who take up the challenge add up to $ 1,000, then the big donor also gives $ 1,000.  If the other pledges add up to $ 1,800, then the big donor antes up an additional $ 1,800.  And so on.  The big donor, by issuing the challenge, dares the other potential donors to dig deep into their pockets, to see how much they can ‘force’ him to give.  Big givers tend to like this approach, because it spurs the ‘little guy’ to come forward with what he can give.
            Another approach sometimes taken by big donors is to hang back and give everybody else a chance to give the money necessary for the cause, then to step in and ante up everything else necessary to meet the organization’s goal.  So if the goal of the fund-raiser is to provide $ 10,000 for the cause, for example, this giver waits until all other pledges are in.  Say the latter add up to $ 5,000.  The big donor would then write a check for $ 5,000 and bring success to the fund-raising campaign.
            Personally, I think that all charitable giving is meritorious.  It should be encouraged, and praised, no matter how the donor wants to determine his amount.  If the cause is worthy, and the goal is met, then we shouldn’t quibble about how the donor wants to determine his gift.  But not everybody would agree with me.  The great Maimonides himself identified eight levels of tzedaka, which is what we generally call charitable giving in Jewish circles.  The eight levels are found in our siddur, Mishkan Tefilla, and we read them this morning in the preliminaries section of our service.  As a review, let’s open to page .. right now and review them.
            So you can see that, in the greater scheme of things according to the Rambam, for the leader to ‘hang back’ and only announce his gift after everyone else had given, to make up for any remaining deficit, is not the highest level of giving.  It is a very conspicuous way to give, because the giver who gives thus, gets to pull the cause back from the brink and ‘save the day.’  In my last congregation, we had such a benefactor.  The net result of his way of giving, was that everybody else stopped giving.  They ‘knew’ that he would step in and save the day, so why bother writing a check?  Let Mr. Big do it in his own time, as he always does.  As a result, there was no general culture of giving and commitment.  Perhaps worse, the day came when Mr. Big, upset with the way the temple was being managed, took his checkbook and went home.  Because there was no culture of giving, this meant a financial collapse for the congregation.  It was not a happy time.
            In this week’s Torah reading, we see a reflection of this kind of giving.  The nesi’im, the leaders of the tribes were the last to bring gifts for the building of the mishkan.  They reasoned:  ‘Let the public contribute whatever they will.  When they stop bringing, we will donate whatever is missing to complete the work.’  Perhaps their intentions were good.  But their strategy backfired on them.  The common people brought almost everything necessary, and the leaders’ contribution thus was not substantial.  The leaders failed to lead.  This is why, according to Rashi, the word nesi’im is missing its first yud in two occurrences in the chapter, and its second yud in another occurrence.  Because the nesi’im – the leaders of the tribes – did not act like leaders at all.  They were not worthy of the title.
            Many years ago, early in my military career, I learned the difference between authority and leadership.  The former is dependent on rank and position.  It has to do with making the decisions, with calling the shots, with issuing the orders.  The latter, leadership, is not dependent upon rank or position.  Each troop in the unit, even the lowliest private, can and should show leadership, which means responding with initiative to the organization’s needs without being instructed.
            As in a military organization, so too in a congregation.  We have certain individuals who are in positions of authority and are thus empowered to call the shots.  But each member of this congregation can and should take the initiative to meet the congregation’s needs.  Of course I’m talking about donating money to ensure the congregation can continue to operate and flourish.  But I’m talking about more than that.  As I reminded you last night, there is an Annual General Meeting coming up.  Will you stand for election to the Board of Management?  Are you willing to attend a dozen or so meetings over the next 12 months and contribute positively to ensure the temple has the quality governance it needs and deserves?  Will you step up and offer to serve as a vice-president, or as minutes secretary to ensure these critical jobs will be done?  Will you offer to help plan and run the next fund-raising activity or social event?  Will you offer to learn to be a Gabbai, or a Shamash?  When, G-d willing we once again have enough children to have a viable cheder, will you step forward to teach or assist?
            In today’s Torah reading, the leaders, the ones in authority did not show much leadership.  Fortunately, the rest of the kahal stepped up to the plate and the mishkan got built.  Unfortunately, the ‘leaders’ of the tribes ended up looking like followers.
            As Temple Shalom approaches another AGM, let’s each one of us commit to lead.  Let’s commit to step up to the plate to ensure the congregation has the governance it needs, to ensure its financial needs are met, to ensure that enough members are available to fill critical positions in public worship.  Then, the mishkan will surely get built.  That is to say, we shall ensure that this congregation endures to serve as a center of Jewish life on the Gold Coast.  And that Jewish life will be a full life that will, in turn encourage other Jews on the Coast to seek to be a part of it.  As Theodore Hertzl proclaimed:  Im tirzu, zeh lo agada.  If you will it, it is no dream.

Finally in Australia!

The Gold Coast (Main Beach) from the air
Forgive me for not posting sooner; we've been in Australia for over a week.  And what a tumultous week it has been!  We arrived just three days before a weekend on which we had the Sabbath, followed immediately by a major festival:  Shavuot, the Feast of Weeks.  Eyal had arrived on the weekend, and all week three rather jet-lagged and disoriented people have been trying to get their feet on the ground.  I'll post more in a few days, but for now I wanted to let our friends and family know that we're alive and well.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Can I Kvell?

Eyal with us, moments after changing the position of his tassel!
Yes, Eyal has graduated from high school at American Hebrew Academy!  Now he's enjoying Senior Trip, while we prepare to fly to Australia!


Sunday, May 13, 2012

Happy Mother's Day, Jewish Mothers!



It's been a busy week of packing and various set-backs in the process of getting ready to move; therefore I didn't have a chance to write and post a D'var Torah this past week.  Of course, there was also much fodder for thought with the interesting turns of US and Colorado politics; perhaps we'll get to it a bit this coming week, but don't count on it! :-)

In the meantime, I couldn't let Mother's Day get past without offering a bit of Jewish Mother humor; enjoy!

...The Jewish mother took her young son to the beach at Coney Island.  As they were standing at the water's edge, a wave came along and swept the boy out into the ocean.  The mother became hysterical, then she looked heavenward and began beseeching G-d to return her son.

"I'll be more religious!" she declared. "I'll light candles every Friday night and keep a kosher home!"

A second wave came along and deposited her soggy son at her feet on the sand.  She looked at him, then again turned her gaze heavenward.

"He had a hat!" she yelled.

...A Jewish mother in Brooklyn decided to prepare her will and make her final requests. She told her rabbi she had two final requests. First, she wanted to be cremated, and second, she wanted her ashes scattered all over the shopping mall.

"Why the shopping mall?" asked the rabbi.
"Then at least I'll be sure my daughters visit me twice a week." 

...A Jewish man is laying on the operating table, about to be operated on by his son, the surgeon. The father says, "Son, think of it this way... If anything happens to me, your mother is coming to live with you."

...Mrs. Goldberg, age 75, went to see a gynecologist for the first time in her life. She was asked to step behind a screen and remove her clothes so the doctor could examine her. At some point during the examination, Mrs. Goldberg said, "Excuse me, doctor, can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly," the doctor replied.
"Tell me," she said. "Your mother knows that from this you make a living?"

...A young Jewish Mother walks her son to the school bus corner on his first day of kindergarten.
" Behave, my bubaleh" she says. "Take good care of yourself and think about your Mother, tataleh!"

" And come right back home on the bus, schein kindaleh."

"Your Mommy loves you a lot, my ketsaleh!"

At the end of the school day the bus comes back and she runs to her son and hugs him.

"So what did my pupaleh learn on his first day of school?"

The boy answers, "I learned my name is David."

What if the following people had had Jewish mothers?

Mona Lisa:  "This you call a smile, after all the money your father and I spent on the orthodontist?"

Chistopher Columbus:  "I don't care what you've discovered, you still should have written!"

Michelangelo:  "Why can't you paint on walls like other children? Do you know how hard it is to get this junk off the ceiling?"

Napoleon:  "All right, if you're not hiding your report card inside your jacket, take your hand out of there and show me!"

Abraham Lincoln:  "Again with the hat! Why can't you wear a baseball cap like the other kids?"

George Washington:  "Next time I catch you throwing money across thePotomac, you can kiss your allowance good-bye!"

Thomas Edison:  "Of course I'm proud that you invented the electric light bulb. Now turn it off and go to sleep!"

Paul Revere:  "I don't care where you think you have to go, young man; midnight is long past your bedtime!"

And then these two, who really did have Jewish mothers:

Albert Einstein:  "But it's your senior photograph! Couldn't you have done something about your hair?"

Moses:  "That's a good story! Now tell me where you've really been for the last forty years."

Yes, there's something special about a Jewish mother; she expresses her love by being overly protective, and she teaches derech eretz through sometimes sarcastic, nagging questions.  We can laugh at them all day.  But at the end of the day, think about the amazing achievements of the Jewish people, and remember that each Jew who made a positive impact on history had a Jewish mother!  So...it's Mother's Day!  Stand up and be proud, Jewish Mothers! 

Saturday, May 5, 2012

You Shall Surely Rebuke...


I know, I know...I already posted a d'var Torah for this week's Torah portion!  But after all, we did have a double portion, and Rabbi Mel Glazer at Temple Shalom (Colorado Springs) offered some interesting thoughts that resonated with me.  So, beshem omro, let me offer them here...

In Parashat Kedoshim, Leviticus 19.16-17, we're told not to be a gossipmonger among our people lest we stand aside while another's blood is shed. (The reference is that destroying a person's reputation by gossiping about them is akin to stealing their good name, which in turn is almost like murdering them.)  The Torah then tells us that we must rebuke our fellow.  The word rebuke is stated twice, hoche'ach toche'ach.  The traditional rabbinic answer as to why the word is repeated, and understand that traditionally every jot and tittle in Torah is considered to be pregnant with meaning, is to give the meaning "you will surely rebuke."  But Rabbi Glazer offered two alternative explainations.

The first possibility:  the first "rebuke" is private and the second, done only if the first fails, is in public.  In other words, when correcting your fellow, you should first do so without publicly shaming him or her.  Only if the behavior worthy of rebuke persists, should you issue a public rebuke.

But I liked the second possibility even better.  The first rebuke is for one's self, the second one for one's fellow.  In other words, before even thinking about challenging your fellow because of some behavior, one should "rebuke one's self by examining their motive and why the behavior in question is irritating them so.  If one pauses to do such a self-examination, perhaps you won't in the end rebuke your fellow at all, because they did not need to be rebuked.

Wise insights into the text of the Torah, and keen insights to help us to live in peace with one another!

A good week, everybody!

Friday, May 4, 2012

Weekly D'var Torah; Parashat Acharei Mot

Gay Pride Parade in Tel Aviv, 2010

We have a double portion this week:  Acharei Mot/Kedoshim,  Leviticus, chapters 16 through 20.  Double portions are used to make sure the lectionary begins and ends on Simchat Torah, since the number of weeks in a Jewish year varies.  They’re also used, as in this case, to get diaspora and Israeli communities in synch when an extra day of a festival outside Israel puts more traditionalist diaspora communities behind our Israeli cousins in the reading cycle.  In Acharei Mot we find the well-known passage detailing specifically forbidden sexual practices.  Prefacing the list, Leviticus, chapter 18 verse 3 admonishes: “Do not perform the practice of the land of Egypt in which you dwelled; and do not perform the practice of the land of Canaan to which I bring you, and do not follow their traditions.”  Continuing one’s reading of the chapter, one finds a litany of 14 unacceptable sexual unions. One is not permitted to “uncover the nakedness” of one’s mother, one’s father’s wife, one’s sister, and so on.

Then we reach verse 22, which states: “You shall not lie with a man as one lies with a woman, it is an abomination (Hebrew:  to’eva).”  The term to’eva/abomination does not appear earlier in the chapter, to describe all the other forbidden sexual unions.  So what is the distinct connotation of the word to’eva?  It is that this – male homosexual behavior or perhaps some specific behavior – is singled out for particular condemnation  The Torah sees this as worthy of singling out in a list of forbidden acts that many of us, at least up to verse 21, would think unnatural.  I don’t think many of you reading this would argue that it isn’t unnatural on some level to have sexual relations with one’s father, one’s mother or step-mother, one’s sister, etc.

Unnatural or not, the chapter in its outset clearly states that these were acts characteristic of the pagans among whom our people lived in Egypt and Canaan. Implied by their inclusion of the list is that they were acts that were, if not common then at least known among the Israelite people; had such acts not had an attraction so that the people engaged in them, it would not have been necessary to admonish against them! We don’t know how widespread these practices were among the Israelites. Does the attachment of the pejorative ‘abomination’ to male homosexual acts, imply that these were particularly attractive to the people?

I can’t answer this question with any degree of certainty, but in that the best, educated guess today is that less than two percent of the adult population in the USA define themselves as homosexual, the best guess is that homosexual proclivities were not significantly more widespread then.  What I do know is that the Torah is all about boundaries.  Evidence outside the Torah informs us that there were few, if any boundaries in pagan society.  Standards on any given issue were that which were proclaimed by the cultic and temporal leaders, by those who wielded power of various sorts.  We find an example of the last in the fifth chapter of Exodus, where the Pharaoh, peeved by Moses and his stubborn insistence that he “let my people go,” (imagine that!) demands that his taskmasters stop providing the Israelites with straw yet uphold the daily quota of bricks to be made.  In Pagan society, where there is no rule of law based on a higher power, people’s day-to-day lot depends on the capriciousness of whoever rules.

I want to be clear that, when I write disparagingly of ‘pagan’ society I’m not referring to a contemporary religious phenomenon known as ‘Neo-paganism’ as well as by various other names:  Wicca, Earth-centered Religion, and probably others.  In my experience, this phenomenon is more a liberal reaction against more-traditionalist forms of Christianity, than anything else.  But that’s another sermon for another day…

So the text repeatedly admonishes against the practices of the Egyptians and the Canaanites, this including some homosexual act that males engaged in, presumably sodomy.  Those who advocate strongly for removal of social liabilities from GLBTQ people – specifically of recent, the state’s refusal to sanction same sex unions on the same basis of male-female marriage – often assert that Leviticus 18.22 represents the beginning of discrimination against homosexual people.  Even Jewish religious leaders who would advocate strongly for the importance of a deeply spiritual practice of Judaism, often strongly reject this verse.  In a recent, generally thoughtful piece in CCAR Journal: The Reform Jewish Quarterly, Rabbi Jeffrey Brown (a 2005 ordinee of Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion) stated that he was “…cognizant of…the tragic and painful history surrounding Leviticus 18.22 and its problematic and complicated impact on Western and Jewish sexuality.”  But Brown is not only of a mind to reject this one verse among the Torah’s many individual verses.  He advocates “preaching against the text,” that is, “actively asserting that the Torah is…wrong.”  My purpose here is not to register a strong complain against Rabbi Brown as an individual; I’m highlighting his words here because of their recent publication and because I believe he has articulated very clearly a philosophical attitude toward the Torah held by many, if not most of my Reform rabbinical colleagues today.

As the astute reader has no doubt already surmised, my own approach to Torah is somewhat different.  If one upholds the words of the Torah only where one agrees with them, and dismisses as “wrong” any verse with which one disagrees for whatever reason, then the Torah is practically meaningless.  If so, if we wish to subject the Torah in each instance to the test of what we already believe to be true according to whatever may be the current sensibility, then perhaps we should cease referring to our congregations as ‘temples’ or ‘synagogues,’ and acknowledge that they are primarily Jewish ‘social clubs.’

If it is true, as Tamar Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L Weiss assert in The Torah:  A Women’s Commentary, that “in the early 21st century, (Leviticus 18.22) is one of the most misinterpreted, abused, and decontextualized verses in the Torah,” then to me the antidote is to cease misinterpreting, abusing, and decontextualizing this verse, and any other verse about which it might be said; the antidote is not to reject the Torah's authority.

For the record, I agree that this verse, inasmuch as may be used in certain circles to marginalize GLBTQ people in this day and age, is being misinterpreted and decontextualized.  (“Abused” is too strong a word for me in this context.)  In order to understand any passage in the Torah, whether we might disagree with it or not, we have to first take into account the circumstances of the people to whom the passage was written.  Imagine, then, a people in transition:  a people leaving one pagan society and going through a phase of hardship in the desert as their leader attempts to forge them into a nation, a people ready to rule themselves in a new land, a land where other pagans will surround them, under the sovereignty of their God.  Although there was hardship enough in Egypt, there was also incredible wealth, an extremely vibrant society with many exciting attractions and diversions.  Don’t think of the ‘slavery’ of the Israelites in Egypt in terms of the slavery of black Africans in the American south through the second half of the 19th century.  Think, rather of the lot of the Israelites in Egypt as more analogous to the condition of coal miners in West Virginia before an unionization (“St. Peter don’t you call me ‘cause I can’t go/I owe my soul to the company store.”)  In this context, the slavery in Egypt begins to look more like an extended servitude, like consignment to a permanent underclass.  If so, then it is easier for the contemporary reader to understand the Israelites’ periodic nostalgia for Egypt during their wanderings in the desert.  Feeling constricted in their very austere present circumstances, they are remembering the attractions that they enjoyed, even as “slaves,” in Egypt.  The Wisdom of the Ages seems to bear this up; in many Passover Haggadot, we find commentary defining Mitzrayim not only as Egypt, the physical place, but also as a place of narrowness where our potentials cannot be realized.

So where does this leave us with regard to Leviticus 18.22?  Think of the sexual boundaries prescribed through verse 21 as reflecting that there were no accepted boundaries in ancient Egypt.  For the good of a society where families would be strong and family relationships would be meaningful, it was necessary to draw certain boundaries around sexual behavior.  And where the Torah refers to specific behaviors, such as sodomy, with the pejorative to’eva/abomination, think of the proscription as having to do primarily with the cultic practices of the pagan sects which form the social norms of the place.  Expressed another way, Leviticus 18.22 is almost certainly not about sexual orientation, a concept that could not have been known or understood by the ancients.  It is not about loving relationships between those of the same sex.  In that sense, it has not much to do with the normalization of GLBTQ people within our communities that are being advocated in the early 21st century of the Common Era.  Rather, it is about the specific cultic practices, about which we have ample knowledge, within the pagan temples of Egypt and Canaan.

Now there are other verses in the Torah which can be read as declaring the monogamous, male-female relationship as the ideal building block of a healthy family and society, but they don’t hit one with the same force as Leviticus 18.22 and should be dealt with as we encounter them in the text - lest we take them out of context.  For the time being, let’s try to understand and contextualize the verse in question, in an authentic way.  Let’s see it as arguing against attraction for the cultic practices of the pagans of the world surrounding the ancient Israelites.

If we read this passage of Torah in this way, then we can honestly ask ourselves to what extent we are attracted to the paganism of our own age, and how much that attraction dilutes our spiritual life in the context of Jewish Tradition.  When I say “paganism of our age,” don't think of the aforementioned Neo-paganism.  Rather, think of materialism and the enthroning of the self at the expense of the values of family, community and society.  Just as the ancient Israelites needed to be reminded that the pagan gods of Egypt and Canaan were powerless to save them and forge them into a people living in the Image of God, we sometimes need to be reminded that our ‘pagan’ gods cannot save us and enable us to live in God’s image.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

US Penitentiary In Florence, Colorado
Last time in prison...

...hopefully!  Many folks know that I have been serving as part-time Jewish chaplain to the US Federal Correctional Complex in Florence, Colorado for a couple of years:  first as an adjunct to my regular congregational work, and in the past year as my only employment while I've been 'on sabbatical.'  I've actually doing correctional chaplaincy work on and off as a volunteer since 1996, in federal institutions as well as state institutions in Florida and Colorado.

It's an unusual vocational path for a rabbi - as is the military chaplaincy - but one I've felt led to go down.  Despite stereotypes, there are Jews in prison, and not only for white-collar crimes; there are six inmates whom I regularly visit in the maximum security US Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum (also known informally as 'The Supermax' and 'The Alcatraz of the Rockies') at the Florence complex.

Visiting the prison is always an adventure and sometimes a bit unnerving:  for example, when that big steel door slides shut and you're inside, and when staff go running down the corridor in response to a general alarm.

So why do I work in the prison?  I do, because I really believe that religious faith is an important tool in taking these inmates and ultimately turning them into productive and law-abiding members of society.  I want Judaism to be an agent for change in the lives of Jews who have broken the law, gotten themselves incarcerated, and will eventually be released.  I don't want law-breakers to only be warehoused until they must be released back onto the streets.  And sometimes, in my one-on-one encounters with inmates, I actually do get to feeling that I am helping them.

But today was my last visit as I prepare to leave for Australia.  Will I find such opportunities Down Under?  I don't know, but I am happy I've had the opportunity up to now.