This Shabbat's Drashot

The Waldo Canyon Fire burns the Mountain Shadows neighbourhood on Colorado Springs' West Side.

On the Brink of Disaster
A Drash for Parashat Chukat
Friday, 29 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

This week, many of us have been grousing about the cool and wet weather we’ve had, which is generally uncharacteristic of our home here on the Gold Coast.  But as we all know, things are different in other places in the world.  Since it is winter here in the Southern Hemisphere, we know that in the Northern Hemisphere it is now summer.  There are places in the world where, right now, it is neither cool nor wet.  There are places where it is hot and dry.
                Such a place is Colorado, the state in the USA where I lived until just a few weeks ago.  Colorado Springs, my home until recently has a very dry climate.  Its region is essentially a desert a high desert since the city is 2,000 meters above sea level.  But it doesn’t look like the stereotypical desert.  Trees cover the mountains and foothills.  Various species of pine, and fir, and aspen thrive at the higher elevations where moisture is scarce and seasonal.  The winter snowfall waters the trees enough to keep them alive during the hot, dry summers.  But things can very easily go out of balance.  During the hot, dry summers the forests carpeting the mountain slopes provide ample kindling for sometimes-tremendous wildfires that rage across the landscape.  This is especially true during exceptionally dry summers which follow winters of light snowfall.  Sometimes, natural causes such as the lightning of summer storms start the fires.  More often, human negligence starts them.
                This summer, the one that is underway right now as we weather the winter down here, has so far been an exceptionally hot and dry one following a dry winter in Colorado.  In Colorado Springs there is a huge wildfire that started last Saturday at midday and has spread quickly.  It was caused the evacuation of most of the West Side of the city, about 32,000 inhabitants, including the neighbourhood where we lived.  Our home is still standing as far as we know, but we cannot reach the family renting it – they’re probably in a shelter somewhere, or staying with friends.
                My purpose in mentioning this, is not a desire for sympathy because my house may burn down.  If that shall be the case, that shall be the case.  That’s why we have insurance.  Rather, the looming disaster on the other side of the world reminds me of the fragility of our lives.  It reminds me that, in a short moment, a relatively quiet and secure life can be turned upside down.  It reminds me to savour the quiet and secure moments, the stress-free times we have to share with one another.  We never know how long such moment will last, and what will follow.
                Last week I talked about how we all prefer different sections of the Torah.  But all parts of the Torah provide keen insights for life.  During the season when we read the Book of Genesis, we learn powerful lessons in family and personal relationships from our reading of the saga of the ‘Abrahamson’ family – the original one, not the one here on the Gold Coast!  When we finish Genesis and swing into Exodus, we get a chance to reflect on the value of freedom and its true nature.  We learn about faith, about the necessity to live by faith.  We learn about the costs of tyranny.   During this time of the year, as we read from the Book of Numbers, we get interesting insights into the challenge of leadership and community dynamics.
              This week’s portion, Chukat, gives us glimpse of supernatural phenomena: the story of the Red Heifer, and of how Moses cured those beset by serpent bites.  The plague of serpents is occasioned by the peoples’ grumbling over their circumstances.  The people Israel, who have been shown in the narrative to be so blessed by G-d’s favour, descend time after time into kvetching over their circumstances during their sojourn.
             Each part of the grand narrative, the saga of our people has something special to teach us.  So does the life we live; we enjoy moments of calm and are beset by moments of storm.  We sometimes enjoy blissful happiness and are sometimes challenged by crisis.  Are of these are woven together to form the tapestry that is our lives.
            May G-d watch over the people of Colorado Springs and save them from disaster.  And may He save each one of us from our own disasters, whether of our own making or not.  May we learn to appreciate all the times of our lives, the torpid and the turbulent.  May we always take time to reflect and be appreciative of the many blessings we enjoy.

The Appeal of Magic

A Drash for Parashat Chukat and my
Induction as Rabbi of Temple Shalom
Saturday, 30 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

I’ll never forget when J.K. Rowling began cranking out the Harry Potter books.  The first one, The Sorcerer’s Stone, came out in 1997.  I only heard of the book, and its growing number of sequels, when we went to live in England two years later.  The series was not yet very popular in the US then.  When we moved to England we heard about what a phenomenon the books were, but that news did not touch me in a personal way.  At some point a paperback copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone found its way into the house; after all, we did have a six and a five year old in the house at the time.  I remember picking up the book to read it…and finding the text difficult to relate to.  After a few pages I put it down, wondering what the fuss was all about.
                Fast Forward to the summer of 2011; my children and I eagerly awaited the release of the second and final instalment of the movie version of the Last Harry Potter book, The Deathly Hallows.  By this time we had hardcover editions of all the books in our home, all dog-eared from repeated readings, and the DVDs of all the films that have been released in that format.  Ma’ayan had already demanded my assurance several times that we would buy the final instalment when it came out in DVD:  this, before we have even seen it on the big screen.
                There are a number of reasons for the incredible success of the Harry Potter series.  First and foremost, they were masterfully written by an author who rose out of obscurity to well-deserved fame and fortune with the series.  The stories are many-layered as all good children’s stories are, understandable on a variety of levels.  Thus adults can read them and see things that go over their children’s heads, and multiple reads will produce new insights each time.  And the films remained remarkably true to the books, managing to convey the essence and details of the stories in the time-limited medium.
                In our family, we enjoyed the language of the stories.  The British-isms of the dialogues come through in the books and, of course, the movies.  They reminded us of the simpler times of our residence in England when our children were just beginning their school years.
                But it cannot be argued that a large part of the series’ appeal is the magical context.  People love magic and extra-ordinary phenomena.  The idea that the ‘laws of nature’ can be violated if one only knows the secret of how to overcome them, is strangely attractive to so many of us.  Children especially, find the idea of being able to do just about anything if one knows The Secrets, attractive.  Children are limited in their ability to act independently by the nature of childhood.  They therefore latch onto magical tales, and superhero stories, and daydream themselves into a world where they can loom large and accomplish superhuman feats.  But magic appeals to adults as well.  Perhaps all of us feel, to some extent, unfairly bounded by the realities of our existence.  Although rationally, magic and superheroes belong in the child’s world, we Big People revel in such feats as well.  Whenever I go to the cinema to see such films, I see adults who are not escorting children.  And even those who are, often clearly enjoy the films as much as their offspring do.
                In this week’s Torah portion, we read a narrative that reflects the use of magic, of a sort.  The people have been groaning once more about the conditions during their desert sojourn.  They are again demanding to be taken back to Egypt.  A plague of serpents strikes the people.  At some point, G-d decides to end the plague.  At G-d’s bidding, Moses wraps a copper serpent around a staff, at the top of which is a likeness of a seraph. mounted on top, and anybody who has bitten by a real serpent who sees it, recovers.
                This apparatus built by Moses and described here, became the model for both the Caduceus and the Rod of Asclepius.  Both of these items are found in Greek Mythology.  But both are clearly variants of the rod described as being fashioned by Moses, to cure the people of serpent bites, in the portion of the Torah we’ll be reading tomorrow morning.  The Caduceus has a winged figure on top but has two serpents wrapped around the staffs, as opposed to Moses’ one serpent.  The Rod of Asclepius has only one serpent, but lacks the winged figure on top.  Both are used, interchangeably, as symbols of the practice of medicine.
               In earlier days of medicine, it was definitely considered magical.  It therefore makes sense that the symbol popularly associated with medicine, is a variant of the object found in this account of Moses’ magic, popularized in Greek mythology.  Today we understand medicine to be more a science than an art.  We still have great respect for physicians and other healing professionals, but we don’t assume they have magical powers.  That is, until we are personally in need of magic for our own healing.  Then, if our doctor cannot apply magic we wonder; “What’s wrong with this guy?”
                The rabbinate is like that.  On a rational level, you all accept that I have no magical powers.  And yet, on a different level, some of you will expect me to have them.  You will expect me to increase attendance and energy at Shabbat services, without making you feel obligated to attend.  You will expect me to know you are in the hospital and visit you, even before you notify me of your condition.  You will expect me to imbue your children with a passion for Judaism, without making you feel obligated to bring them to cheder and services.  You will expect me to draw in new members, without making you feel obligated to go out of your way to welcome them.  On a certain, emotional level, you will expect that I can lift up some device like a caduceus and, if the demons that beset this congregation see it, their bite will be for naught.  But I am not a magicion, only a perfectly ordinary man, and I wield no such powerful device.  And as such, I am the perfect man for the ‘job’ of leading a congregation of perfectly ordinary men and women.
                It is human nature to not think of oneself as ordinary.  We spend our lives fighting the sting of ordinariness, of wanting to see ourselves as exceptional.  Our communities resemble Garrison Keilor’s mythical Lake Woebegone, located somewhere in America’s Upper Midwest, where “all the women are beautiful, all the men are successful, and all the children are above average.” We caricature the ordinary man, to prove that we, our families and our close associates are anything but.  Ordinary people are like the Dursleys in the Harry Potter series:  unattractive, sounding ridiculous and producing bratty offspring.
                But I’m here to tell you that there is freedom in ordinariness.  If we are ordinary, we can forgive one another our failings.  And we can forgive ourselves our failings.  We can develop a tolerance for our neighbour, as we pray that our neighbour will be tolerant of us.  We can revel in, and celebrate our small triumphs, even if in the greater scheme of things they seem trivial.    
                So let’s accept that we are a congregation of perfectly ordinary men and women, led by a perfectly ordinary rabbi.  But that does not make our congregation ordinary.  Temple Shalom is anything but!
                So how can that be?  If we’re all ordinary, how can our congregation be extra-ordinary?  Has this ‘ordinary’ rabbi lost his mind?
               The reason is, or course, synergy.  The word synergy means that the force of two or more combined agents exceeds the force of the individual agents.  To put it differently, the total is greater than the sum of the parts.  Temple Shalom is extra-ordinary, because of the synergistic effect of its members’ contributions.
                Those contributions have kept this congregation alive and even thriving during difficult times.  Thriving beyond all ‘reasonable’ expectations.  Despite a number of deep disappointments, and difficult conflicts, you did not walk away because Temple Shalom means so much in your lives.  The commitment of ordinary people, multiplied by the number of such people in this congregation, adds up to something beyond the ordinary.
                So I’m here to be a part of the extra-ordinary congregation.  To lend my ordinary talents to making this congregation rise even farther above the pack.  To help us, together, to end our ordinary weeks with extra-ordinarily peaceful Shabbats.  To join together to lift the ordinary moments of our ordinary lives to extra-ordinary levels of holiness.  To take ordinary lives and make them something that transcends ordinary by connecting them to G-d through the rich tapestry of the Jewish tradition.
                What is extra-ordinary about this congregation, to Temple Shalom of the Gold Coast, is the specific collective energy that you bring to the mix.  The synthesis of talent, of regard for one another, of need for Jewish connection her in your little corner of the world. 
                I stand before you today, more than a little nervous, thinking about the immense possibilities of what we can achieve together.  And thinking about the not-inconsiderable challenges that lie ahead.  It is my deep-felt prayer that, over time, I will prove worthy of the expectations you have expressed in bringing me here.  It is nothing short of awesome to consider the responsibility of leading a holy congregation.  I pray that G-d will bless me with the strength, with the insight, with the creativity to accomplish the tasks we have set before us.    
                So a successful relationship of rabbi and congregation is not dependent upon magic.  It involves no lifting up of a likeness of a serpent, to heal the people of their demons.  It involves no potions, nor spells, nor superhuman powers.  It’s like a marriage, where success doesn’t hinge upon a fairy tale wedding.  Success in marriage hinges upon waking up every morning, looking at the person you married with messy hair or a morning stubble.  And then you smile and tell yourself: “This is the one I’ve chosen to spend my life with.” Likewise, the successful relationship of rabbi and congregation hinges upon seeing one another day after day, with all of one’s flaws, on grumpy days when one is distracted by family matters, when one has a cold and the Hebrew in the service doesn’t flow that way it should.  It can survive the interminable board meeting where everybody snipes at one another.  It can survive these things, because it is rooted in a deep regard for the qualities and dedication of the other.
              Let us drop our contempt for the ordinary, and embrace our ordinariness, and thus lift up our temple and make it continue to be anything but ordinary.  With G-d’s help and not relying upon magic, together we shall build something wonderful here on the Gold Coast.

This Week's Drashot for Parashat Korach - Enjoy!

Beware of Drama

A Drash for Parashat Korach
Friday, 22 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

Last week I referred to the phenomenon of us thinking that, while all of the Torah is good, some parts are simply better than others.  I admitted to you that even I, as a rabbi, prefer certain parts.  This certainly comes into play when assigning portions for bar and bat mitzvahs.

I’ll never forget the first time I helped prepare a for bar mitzvah a boy whose date determined that he would read, and expound upon, this week’s portion:  Korach.  Not only was this his portion, his reading was from the very beginning of the portion.  It was not the third triennial reading, the one which we shall read tomorrow morning, the one about the tithe and the need for the Levites to financially contribute despite their full-time service to G-d and the nation.  No, it was about the rebellion against the authority of Moses by Korach, son of Kohat, a member of the Tribe of Levi.  Korach led a group of dissidents in trying to usurp Moses’ leadership of the people Israel.  For that, he and the other two leaders of his rebellion were killed.  G-d opened up the earth, and it swallowed Korach, Datan and Abiram, and their respective households.

               The Death Penalty has developed a bad name in recent years, especially so when applied for religious reasons.  How could it be otherwise??!  The idea of putting someone to death for religious reasons, makes the contemporary mind question the very need for religion.  Religious authorities have certainly been guilty of their excesses over the centuries.  Most of the historical incidents of killing for religion have been committed by Christians and Muslims.  Who can forget the Crusades, or the Spanish Inquisition?  Or the Sword of Islam, sweeping across the European landscape?  Not to mention the contemporary phenomenon of Worldwide Jihad.  We Jews are conspicuously absent from perpetrating most of this bloodletting; most often we are its victims.  The victim gets away feeling a certain self-righteousness.  But in the narrative of Korach’s rebellion is a documentation of the murderous wrath of the G-d of Israel toward a group of rebels and their families.

So I asked the boy’s parents at the very start of his bar mitzvah preparation:  Maybe you can change the date?  Maybe you can schedule it a week earlier, or a week later?  Of course, the following week is Parashat Chukat, containing the narrative of the Red Heifer.  That one is a bear to teach to a 12-year-old, for different reasons!

As it happened, there was no way for the boy’s parents to change the date of his bar mitzvah, so I was stuck trying to help him make sense of G-d killing Korach, Datan and Abiram…and their entire families.  I learned a lesson about the ability of 12-year-olds to grasp difficult lessons, when pushed and cajoled sufficiently…

“That was a gruesome way to die,” the boy remarked to me as we finished reading the story.

“Do you think they deserved to die that way?” I asked him.

He thought for a moment. “Maybe the Torah means to tell us that, when people behave in certain ways, they cause lots of people get hurt, even those closest to them.”

There was an immediately apparent truth in what the boy was saying.  People behave in certain ways, and as a result more people get hurt.  But what was unique about the ‘certain way’ the three rebels behaved, that they merited such a punishment for themselves and their families?  There had been many challenges to Moses’ leadership.  The challenges started long before G-d instructed him to stand up to Pharaoh and lead the people out of Egypt to the Promised Land.  Moses really personified the figure of the beleaguered leader.  He was always being challenged by members of his stubborn and individualistic people.  Because of his vision and force of character he always prevailed against the insurgencies.  So what was the unique nature of this insurgency, that it occasioned such a response?

“What was the real nature of the Korach rebellion?” I asked the boy. “What made it stand out among the different challenges to Moses’ leadership?” And I led him on a tour through the Torah, reading through the accounts of the various rebellions against Moses.

“This one really wasn’t about anything,” the boy finally proclaimed. “I mean it was senseless.  It was really only drama.”

Drama.  We all know that word.  We assign it to the actions of certain individuals, who seem to thrive on stirring up one group against another.  They do so for no apparent purpose, other than because they can.  If there’s a purpose for the stirring up of drama, it is that the manipulation of people gives the Drama Queen – or Drama King – a sense of power.  Usually the drama fills a need for power in a person who is really, otherwise powerless.

The boy really opened my eyes.  Korach’s rebellion was about nothing more than the need of three individuals to create drama.  They ached to be like Moses, who derived his authority legitimately.  Moses’ legitimacy was rooted in his calling from G-d.  But it was earned through his obedience to G-d, evidenced by his overcoming his own sense of inadequacy and standing up to Pharaoh.  Then, and again despite the sense of inadequacy he keenly felt, he rallied the people Israel time and again, to lead them through the wilderness and forge them into a strong and resolute people.

The challenge of Korach and his followers was not to assert that Moses was doing anything wrong.  It was not that he’d made any mistakes.  It was not that they, the rebels, could do anything better than Moses.  It was just asking, “Who placed him over us?”  It was pure drama, pitting a group of frightened people against a leader with whom they really couldn’t find substantive fault.

For what they did, the three leaders of the rebellion deserved to be punished severely.  But what what had their families done, to deserve being swallowed up by the earth?  Nothing.  But my bar mitzvah candidate nailed it.

“When people behave in certain ways, they cause lots of people to get hurt, even those closest to them.”

Drama pits one person or group against another, with no underlying purpose other than the need of the Drama Person to create conflict to manipulate people.  When one plays with fire, one gets burned.  But out-of-control conflagrations cause much collateral damage.  Interpersonal drama leaves in its wake a trail of wounded souls.  The Drama person, the manipulator seldom intends to hurt the ones who bear the brunt of the damage.  But that’s the way these things end up.  Korach and his two accomplices surely didn’t intend for their families to bear their punishment.  Perhaps this whole sorry episode is the Torah’s way of warning us?

In last week’s drash, I asserted that the need for drama often makes us blow up solvable problems into insurmountable ones.  Of course, the context was marriage.  Most troubled couples, who respond to their issues with drama, do not in their heart of hearts want their marriages to fail.  But their behavior accomplishes that very thing.  Likewise, Korach and his followers didn’t want their families to perish.  Likewise so many of those who create drama, and hurt those closest to them, they did not intend to hurt anybody.

What’s the solution?  As I’ve pointed out before, it begins with self-awareness.  Without recognizing that we’re engaging in drama, we’re powerless to stop it.  But once we do recognize that we are creating drama, then we can search our souls and ask ourselves why.  It’s not easy.  It takes a big person to admit when they’re wrong, even if they’re just admitting it to themselves.  But if you can come down the road far enough to recognize that you’re creating senseless drama, I challenge you to take the big step of sharing that self-awareness with someone you trust.  In confidence with that person, you can try to unveil your motivations.  Then you can work on them.

As I said, it isn’t easy.  But it is essential.  Even the biggest Drama People can probably tell a war story or two about how they were once hurt by someone else’s penchant for drama.  Maybe the earth didn’t swallow you up, but chances are that you have been hurt at least once in your life by someone who was busy manipulating individuals, creating drama, for purposes that nobody will ever know and perceive.  If so, do you have the courage to examine your own heart of hearts and ask yourself if you haven’t also been guilty of engaging in drama for some opaque purpose?  That’s the first step to controlling this strange impulse that often seems to run like an epidemic in circles of friends, in families, in workplaces, and yes, in religious congregations.  It’s too late for Korach and his cohorts.  But its not too late for those of us in this room.  We can understand this lesson of the consequences of this rebellion.  We can see it as through the eyes of one very perceptive 12-year-old boy whom I once had the pleasure to teach.  If so, then we can learn to behave differently before we cause such a result.

Everybody Shares the Burden
A Drash for Parashat Korach
Saturday, 23 June 2012
Rabbi Don Levy

Back in the 1980’s I lived in Greece for four years.  I look back fondly upon that time.  Greece was a lovely country with a mild climate, beautiful islands and beaches and mountains.  And the Greek people, despite decades of being inundated by tourists, remained open and hospitable to visitors.  They generally held an optimistic and relaxed view of life.  They always managed to find time for one another, to sit and enjoy a coffee on a sunny afternoon while catching up with a relative or friend.  Work?  I can do it, avrio, mañana, tomorrow.  The work will still need to be done then.  I’ll get around to it.

Greece has been in the news quite a bit lately.  It has not been in the news because of its lovely beaches.  But what has put the country in the worldwide spotlight does have something to do with its laid-back ethic.  Greece has such a high amount of foreign debt compared to its gross domestic product, that its economy is threatening to implode.  The country needs to raise its productivity significantly before it defaults on its massive debt.  Its creditors have demanded severe austerity measures as a condition of continued assistance.

I’m not here to single out Greece for criticism.  Greece is, as they say, the Tip of the Iceberg.  Greece simply epitomizes what is happening worldwide.  Following not so far behind are other debt-laden economies.  The fear is that, if Greece falls, other countries will not be far behind.  All of Europe, and America – really, most of the developed world – is wrestling with the issue of how to raise productivity and lessen per capita debt, to save their economies from oblivion.  What they are facing, is the end of the Welfare State as we know it.

From the ashes of the Second World War arose the concept of the modern Welfare State.  After the war’s conclusion, an incredible prosperity descended upon the Western World.  It first benefitted those countries whose infrastructure and industrial bases had not been significantly damaged in the war.  After that, thanks in no small part to the American Marshall Plan, the ruined economies of Western Europe recovered and went into high gear, bringing them prosperity.  One byproduct of all this go-go economic well-being was that the Western Democracies could afford to build social safety nets to ensure their citizens’ well-being should misfortune come upon them individually.

The Welfare State is a wonderful thing; the idea is altruistic at its core.  And, as long as the economy remains in high gear there is enough cash to sustain it.  In times of severe worldwide recession, such as we have been enduring since about 2008, it simply cannot be sustained.

Australia, as I’ve come to understand, has managed to avoid the worst of the current economic recession.  This, thanks in part to its abundant natural resources, and perhaps also thanks to its distance from Europe and America.  But there’s apparently enough suffering to go around, even here in this Lucky Country.  As I understand it even here, there is a sense that some increased austerity is necessary.  Not as much as Greece and other European countries are being forced to swallow.  But enough to make many citizens feel the pinch.

The flaw in the modern Welfare State is not in the idea that every citizen deserves a decent life.  It is not in the notion that decent housing, nutritious food, good health care and a worthwhile job are things that everybody should enjoy.  It is not in the proposition that a strong safety net should be in place to lift up the fallen.  The Welfare State’s flaw is in its role in the killing of personal initiative.  It is in the replacement of individual responsibility with the culture of entitlement.

The portion of Torah which I read this morning provides the antithesis to the culture of entitlement.  In Israel’s being constituted as a nation, it has a collective responsibility for the maintenance of the Mishkan, the sanctuary that provides the nexus between G-d and the people.  Each of the tribes of Israel is allotted a portion of the land which they are about to conquer.  That land will be further apportioned to the families of the respective tribes.  In that way, each family will have the means to earn a living.  But the members of the tribe of Levi shall not be apportioned any land.

Instead, the Levites shall be assigned the responsibility of operating the Mishkan and its infrastructure for the offering of sacrifices to G-d who has so blessed the nation.  This is an awesome responsibility.  I pointed out three weeks ago, in my drash on Parashat Naso, that they faced death should they not correctly discharge their duties.  This is the full-time occupation, the ‘family business’ of the Levites.  They are not to be farmers, dairymen, carpenters or farriers.  Their economic needs will be met by the tithe, the ma’aser.  Each Israelite family is to bring a tenth of its increase – a tithe, or ma’aser – to the Levites to sustain them in performing the vital service for which G-d has chosen them.  Each Israelite has a share in the nation’s merit.  But this is not an entitlement.  It comes from each family’s participation in the grand enterprise.  It comes from the tithe, the goods that are brought to the Levites to enable them to live while performing their unique service.

The tithe is, of course, the first historical precedent for the Flat Tax.  Everyone must ante up the same percentage.  But of course that means that the less success one enjoys, the less one is liable.  The more one succeeds, the more one is liable.  It sounds quite fair to me – this in a world where so much is un-fair.  But I digress…

So what about the Levites?  They carried a very heavy load.  The well-being of the entire nation was upon their shoulders.  As we read this morning, the Levites “shall bear their iniquity” – that is to say, that of the entire people.  All this under the threat of death, should they fail in their very exacting duties.  One would think that would be enough, but it wasn’t.  The Levites were also required to give a tenth of what they received – a tithe of a tithe – as an offering to the G-d whom they served on behalf of the Jewish people.

From this portion we learn that everybody gives to the common enterprise in accordance with their ability to give.  Those who earn little, give little.  But no-one is exempt.  Even those whose full-time occupation is the service that makes everything possible must also present a tenth of what they take in. 

Of course having said this, I realize I’m opening the door to expectations as to my participation in the next temple fund-raiser.  But that’s not a problem; I’ll step through that door…

So the ideal presented here, in the Book of Numbers, is that each of us bears responsibility for that, which benefits the entire community.  Nobody is exempt.  Each of us must participate proportionately.  To those who might choose – or be chosen for – a life of service, a financial contribution is still expected.  It seems the antithesis of the modern tax system that rewards certain behaviors by offering tax advantages.  And it is definitely the antithesis of the culture of entitlement.  Let’s lift one another up and help one another in times of misfortune.  To the extent that it doesn’t impede the economy or bankrupt the treasury, let’s provide a safety net for those in temporary misfortune, especially if their circumstances are due to no fault of their own.  But let’s work to erase the culture of entitlement, the mindset that all is owed me, by virtue of my being here.  This is a contemporary problem that seems to have been anticipated in the Torah.

The ancient Israelites knew that each person was responsible for bringing G-d’s favor upon the nation.  In the same way, let us always keep in mind that the strength of the collective is in the contributions of each of its members.  This holds true in the economy of the nation.  It holds equally true in the well-being of the congregation.

Early Impressions of Oz

Since Clara and I have been in Australia almost a month, I thought it was time to offer a few thoughts on the 'mandatory' subject, 'How Australia is Different from the USA.'

There's a certain mystique surrounding Australia for Americans.  The place elicits a 'knee jerk' positive reaction from Americans generally.  Although few of us have been here because it's so far away, I've never heard an American who has made the trek, say anything but positive about travelling or living here.  (Okay, I lie; one American friend who visited and returned home with a half-dozen speeding tickets doesn't think he'll come here again...)  And Americans who encounter Aussies outside OZ almost always come away with positive thoughts.  During my military years, I worked with a handful of Aussies - most recently I was deployed to Qatar with an Aussie chaplain - and I agree completely with these sentiments.  The reason, of course, is that the Aussies are just so bloody NICE...after a month here, I cannot recount a person-to-person encounter that was anything but pleasant.  Even my neighbor was smiling when he 'groused' that the American comedian Robin Williams calls Aussies 'Rednecks with a British Accent.' (I assured him that Aussies don't sound British at all...and that to some Americans, 'redneck' isn't necessarily a pejorative.)  Even my son, Eyal, who was pulled over and breathalyzed by the police the other night, descibed the three cops at the stop as 'nice and polite.' (No, he didn't blow positive...)

  

The social landscape seems very similar to that in the USA.  Australia is a diverse, multicultural society, a mecca for immigration.  As in the USA, people generally seem quite tolerant; although they naturally tend to choose their 'mates' from among those that resemble themselves, I see many mixed-race couples and groups of youth unselfconsciously enjoying themselves in public.  That said, one does occasionally hear grumbling from the native born about newcomers grabbing the jobs...and from recent immigrants about how the natives get the best jobs.  But by and large, one finds little obvious evidence of inter-racial tensions.  Muslim women in headscarfs do not seem to draw disdainful looks; they are ubiquitous as are immigrants in various styles of dress native to the places they left.

Australians are struggling with a number of the same social issues that cause tension in the USA.  A big one right now is 'marriage equality,' or the rights of same-sex couples to receive sanction and various social benefits from the state.  The substance of the argument seems similar to that of the same issue in the US, although the tenor of the debate (on both sides of the issue) seems more civil. 

The physical landscape also seems very familiar to an American, especially one who grew up in Florida.  With a generally warm climate (here in Queensland it is subtropical to tropical), Oz often resembles Florida and California, both physically and in the laid-back qualities of those places.  But it seems cleaner and greener.  Well, the 'cleaner' part doesn't extend to Melbourne's rail lines, which are one continuous canvas for graffiti; even the sides of houses facing the tracks have been spray painted with those bold statements.  But otherwise even Melbourne is a relatively clean city; it sort of reminds me of Toronto, but with a warmer climate.

Given the warm climate, it's no surprise that beaches are an important part of the Australian landscape and culture.  The beaches here in southern Queensland resemble those of southern Florida where I grew up.  Farther south in New South Wales, the beaches begin to look like those on the central and northern California coast.  The beaches in South Australia and West Australia are wild and isolated.  We live in a suburb called 'Surfers Paradise' and indeed surfing is a far more popular sport than in the coastal US.  Our son Eyal who has been a lifeguard and lifeguard trainer in the USA, has gotten involved with a surf lifesaving club and is learning rough water lifesaving.  He finds it interesting that lifesaving on Australian beaches is less a profession and more a 'club sport.'  Each local lifesaving club has a clubhouse with a restaurant/pub/gaming room to support the enterprise of surf lifesaving. 

Society here is also somewhat more 'orderly'; Australians have bought into the principle of bigger government and the 'nanny state' that cause so many arguments among Americans.  There is far more regulation of everyday life here.  For example, I noticed signs in Melbourne informing bicyclists that the State of Victoria requires them to wear helmets.  And there are heavy fines imposed for using a cell phone while driving without a hands-free device.  A motorcyclist was caught last week by a traffic control camera, texting while riding; it made the nationwide news, and he was stripped of his license forthwith!

I'm not saying these are bad things; the requirement to wear helmets on bicycles might be a bit much, but given how mny traffic accidents and fatalities are caused by talking and texting drivers in the USA, I don't think heavy fines for those things are such a bad idea.  The difference from the USA seems to be, that Americans generally prefer to sanction the bad result rather than the behavior itself.

Another area of greater government regulation is in the private ownership of firearms.  Because of the heritage of rugged individualism that is a part of the American psyche, any measures however modest to control the ownership of firearms in the USA elicit robust debate.  After all, the right to bear arms is enshrined in our very constitution!  In Australia, it is difficult at best to own any firearm, and the idea of citizens legally carrying concealed is absolute heresy to most Australians.  Recently, two members of the Australian olympic swim team were photographed in a California gun shop, mugging for the camera with pistols and shotguns in their hands, and the photos found their way to Facebook.  They were severely disciplined by the Australian Olympic Committee for this 'incredible transgression'; they will be allowed to compete in London, but will be sent home from the UK immediately after their events; no post-event revelry for them!

Let me go on record by revealing that I held a concealed carry permit in Colorado and often packed an auto-loader while out and about.  Of course, I left all my guns - hand guns and rifles - behind when I came here.  I have to say that, so far, I feel safer here in Australia.  Not so the Australians; despite relatively low incidence of violent crimes here compared to the USA, many Australians feel quite vulnerable.

Australia has a hybrid-type health care delivery system that seems to resemble the system that the new health care law in the USA ('Obamacare') envisions.  There is a state-run system, which they call Medicare, which all citizens and permanent residents are eligible to use unless one is covered by a private health insurance plan.  (We're not covered by Medicare, being temporary residents or .'visitors.')  Most Australians prefer these private plans similar to those that Americans obtain through their employment.  Since Medicare is taxed to the breaking point by demand for services, the government heavily subsidizes one's private health insurance premiums.  Clara and I are paying about $5,000 per year for private health insurance, but a citizen or permanent resident would pay considerably less.  Since we haven't needed to use it yet, I can't compare it to American insurance.  Because we were covered by Tricare, the health system for the military in the US, I have no point of comparison with the costs of insurance here.  Australians with whom we've discussed this issue assert that they wouldn't be caught dead using Medicare.

Australian reality gives a glimpse into the future should Social Security be 'privatized' in the USA.  Everybody receives an additional nine percent of their pay in 'superannuation,' the equivalent of an employer contribution to a 401(k) plan.  The money goes into a private plan of the individual's choice; they set up these plans at banks and brokerage houses, choose the kinds of investments and manage their accounts.  It seems to work.

After a month we're still in 'sitcker shock' over the prices here; just about everything seems more expensive than in the USA; either marginally or significantly...sometimes spectacularly so.  Food, especially fresh produce, seems to cost at least twice as much.  But eating out in restaurants only seems a little more expensive when one considers that the tax is already included in the menu prices and one doesn't tip here.

Petrol (automotive gasoline) is frightfully expensive in comparison; the other day I filled our car's tank for $141.9 per liter with a four-cent store loyalty discount.  With the Aussie Dollar trading on rough parity with the US Dollar, that means I paid about $5.37 per US gallon.  That's high.  The Aussies, though don't seem to drive any less than Americans on a day-to-day basis, and while a larger proportion drive small cars, large cars and SUV's are very much in evidence.  We are driving a Mitsubishi Magna, a car of similar size and weight to the Chevrolet Malibu that we drove in the US.  I would personally opt for a smaller car, but it is provided through my employment.

Part of the higher price structure for most things is attributable to the higher costs associated with labor here.  The minimum wage is somewhat higher, and the employed must be provided with benefits that are discretionary in the USA.  For example, a month's paid vacation per year.  There is no 'sub-minimum' wage for certain classes of workers.  In America, fellow conservatives sometimes rail against these sorts of constraints against the free labor market, prefering that forces of supply and demand keep things in an equilibrium.  They argue that such regulation drives up unemployment, especially unskilled unemployment.  The usual example given as a warning is the fast food industry; if labor costs should soar through increased regulation and thus increase the prices of meals, countless jobs would be lost as people scaled back their patronage of such businesses.  I've always accepted this prediction as being likely true, but from this side of the Pacific I'm not sure; fast food outlets her are as ubiquitous here as in the USA, and a 'value meal' that would cost six or seven dollars in the US generally costs ten or 11 dollars here.  I haven't eaten US-style fast food since I arrived here (but I've eaten enough fish and chips for a lifetime), but if those restaurants are out there in such large numbers, then obviously someone is eating there...

I'll wait for another opportunity to comment on the differences in Judaism and the Jewish establishment here; that will require a long post in and of itself!  The whole religious landscape here seems less robust than in the USA, although Australia overall seems more religious than Europe.

Overall we're enjoying our stay here.  It's a lovely country full of lovely people who seem to enjoy their prosperity.  We look forward eagerly to our three (or more) years here and welcome the adventures that may come our way.

Seeing the Future - a Drash for Shelach Lecha

When assigning dates for celebrations of bar and bat mitzvahs, we always have something in the back of our minds.  How good is the parasha the kid will get?  Of course, the ‘party line’ is that there are no bad parashiot.  How could one say that a piece of Torah is ‘bad’??!  All Torah is good!  But having said that, some pieces of Torah are ‘better’ and others.  Of course, this refers to the ease with which the text in question lends itself to a good understanding by a 13-year-old mind…

                But we rabbis also have our favorite parts of the Torah.  If you would ask me what section of the Torah is my favorite, I would tell you that it’s the part of Genesis that brings to us the narrative of Joseph.  I think that no section of the Torah text lends itself to as many valuable lessons on the nature of life, family and relationships than the Joseph story.  But if you ask me what is my absolute favorite parasha, then I would have to tell you that it’s this week’s portion, Shelach Lecha.  That’s because this parasha contains the story of the 12 spies.
                Of course, the narrative of the spies resonates with me, because I was a spy.  As many of you know, I used to work in military intelligence before I got The Call to the rabbinate.  So the story of the spies is most personal to me.  And the exact nature of the spies’ transgression is also intimately familiar to me.  But that’s another sermon for another day.
                Rabbi Richard Jacobson was installed last weekend as the new president of the URJ, the Union for Reform Judaism.  The URJ is, or course the North American partner of our Australasian UPJ, the Union for Progressive Judaism.  At this week’s gathering of the Moetza, the UPJ’s small group of rabbis, we shared a conference call with Rabbi Jacobson.  Starting with a talk about this week’s parasha, Rabbi Jacobson suggested a somewhat-different spin on the merit of Joshua bin Nun and Caleb ben Yefuneh, the two spies who alone gained favor with G-d.  He suggested that their merit was their ability to see, not so much the Land, but the future.  The physical Land of Canaan filled their eyes.  But they alone were able to ‘see’ a Land that did not yet exist.  They saw a land on which the Israelites, having subdued the Canaanite nations with G-d’s help, were comfortably ensconced and with a thriving country.  In other words, they alone among the spies were visionary enough to see past the then-current reality.
                Having a vision, and the courage to see that vision through, is what separates the greatest leaders from the rest of us.  It is a quality common to those who change the world for the better.
                Most of us mere mortals will not change the world significantly for having passed through it.  But we can, and should be inspired by those great figures in history.  We should work to have vision, to overcome fears, to open our eyes to possibilities.  We, too can see the future if we try.
                It’s not easy – nobody ever said it was.
                Sometimes our ability to see a positive future is hampered by our ability to see a positive past.
                Last night at Shabbat evening worship, Clara and I shared with you a celebration of our wedding anniversary.  As of this coming week, we are married 20 years.  For many in this sanctuary this morning, 20 years of marriage is but a moment in time.  We have here in this congregation, couples who have been together 30 years.  40 years.  50 years!  Perhaps longer?
                Clara and I, after 20 years, have only begun to live out the secrets that you discovered along the way.  We’re new at this!  But we have allowed you, and couples like you, to teach us your secrets.  So we thank you for teaching us through your mentoring and role-modeling.  Yes, we’ve learned your secrets.  For those of you who are not yet where we are today, I’m going to reveal the secrets now. 
                Secret Number One:  See the positive in the past.
                When we make a retrospective for a great person, do we re-air his dirty laundry?  Perhaps.  All of us are flawed and screw up from time to time.  But if we do take note of the negative, we always bracket it in that which is positive.  If we dwell on our failures, then we’ve sentenced ourselves to thinking of ourselves as failures.  Likewise in marriage.  Every marriage has its regrettable moments.  But on occasions such as anniversaries, we focus on the happy moments, the sublime moments.  If we did not, then we would surely fail in living out Secret Number Two.
                And what’s the second secret?  See a positive future.  Couples that ultimately do not make it, fail to look to a positive future together.  If we cannot imagine ourselves happy ten years, 20 years, 30 years from now, then whence the strength to endure the present?
                That’s not to say that a happy future is in the cards for every couple.  Believe me, there are couples that aught not be married in the first place.  Everybody knows such a couple.  They’re the ones that, when they tell you they’re splitting up, you breathe a sigh of relief for them!  But that’s not most couples, nor is it most divorcing couples.  In my years as a chaplain, when many divorcing couples passed through my office, I perceived that most of them faced issues that were not insurmountable.  So why can many couples not see that?  Most of us have some affinity for drama.  At times, this affinity makes us look at a minor, solvable problem and see it as intractable.  It’s my experience that we often make the mistake of blowing problems out of proportion.  Then, with this big, deal-breaking problem in front of us, we cannot see a viable future.  And that is often tragic.
                So Clara and I begin our second 20 years together.  G-d willing, not our final 20 years!  Perhaps our penultimate 20 years.  We do so, not with any superhuman abilities.  We simply are able to see through the occasional disappointments of the past to see the positive of our lives together.  And we are therefore able to envision a positive future.  We have no idea what will be the physical realities of our lives 20 years from now, let alone 40 years.  We can plan, but the truth is that each day we step off into the great unknown.  But we are able to see a positive future, a happy future together.  That’s why we smile, laugh and yes, cry as we celebrate our 20 years together.
                This ability to envision the future applies to more in life than just marriage.  It applies to how hard to study and the risks we take to have a rewarding career.  It applies to the way that we rally together – or do not – to make our congregation the best it can be.
                Perhaps an ability to envision the future is what set Joshua and Caleb apart from the other ten spies.  They had a positive vision.  They were able to apply that vision to what they actually saw when they scouted out the Land of Canaan.  And what about the rest of us?
                When looking at our present, are we able to see our challenges as surmountable?  Or do we, like the Ten Spies, see them as giants standing in our way, unconquerable?  Can we transcend our difficulties, or do we prefer to wallow in them?  Do we focus on the disappointments of the past, or are we able to revel in the bright spots?  These are the differences between the Ten Spies on one hand, and Joshua and Caleb on the other.  These are the differences between successful people on one hand, and the rest of us on the other.  These are the differences between congregations that grow and thrive, and those that wallow in weakness and interpersonal drama.  These are the differences between success and marginality in any area of life one can name.
                In that sense, the lesson of the spies is not just about the collection of intelligence.  It’s not just about planning for a military battle.  It’s a lesson that applies to all of us, in our lives.  We can apply it to career-planning.  To planning how to apply ourselves and succeed in whatever we choose to do.  And yes, we can apply it to marriage.
                Clara and I have managed to reach the ‘minor’ milestone of 20 years together.  With G-d’s help, we will weather the second, and if so blessed the third 20 years together.  As we read of the Spies, let’s celebrate the positives in our collective pasts, and envision a positive future.

Oh, The Irony of It All; A Drash for Beha'alotcha

Martin Luther King, Jr gives his 'I Have a Dream' speach, 1963

I don’t know about you, but I love humor that’s deliciously ironic.  Irony, of course is akin to sarcasm, but subtler.  It doesn’t ‘bite’ quite as hard.  Sometimes, irony is so subtle that it takes a certainly sophistication to grasp it.

                Simple irony, not the most sophisticated kind, can be illustrated by the following:  one comes in from a rainstorm, soaked to the gills, and pronounces, ‘Lovely weather, isn’t it?’  This, in a pleasant tone of voice and whilst smiling and dripping water on the floor.
                Subtle irony, in contrast is like that found in this week’s Torah portion, in a passage I shall read from this pulpit tomorrow morning.  Of course, since you’re all planning to be present here tomorrow morning, you’ll all have the benefit of hearing it.  See what I mean about subtle irony?
                In tomorrow morning’s Torah reading, we shall read of how Miriam attacks her bother Moses because of ‘that Cushite woman he married.’  This of course refers to Tzipporah, the daughter of the Midianite Priest Jethro.  So Miriam’s complaint against his brother, at least overtly is that he married a black woman.
                How are we to see what is really happening here?  This complaint comes seemingly out of the blue, with no background text to prepare us for any particular antipathy toward blacks on Miriam’s part.  But it does come on the heels of one of the series of rebellions of the people against Moses, where many of the Israelites are killed for their rebellion against the authority of Moses, and therefore by extension G-d.
                It is a common human failing to try to assassinate another person’s character with gossip.  It is a pitfall that causes each one of us to stumble.  I would be very surprised if there was a single person in this room tonight, who has not been guilty of this sin from time to time.  I know I have.  It’s certainly not something, of which I’m proud.  It’s a universal failing that, if we are aware of doing it, then we can begin to control our tongues.  Gossip is the bane of religious life; it is corrosive the delicate alloy of congregational life.  It can do more than anything else, to poison the atmosphere and tear a once-cohesive group asunder.  It transcends lines of faith and denomination, and it is found on both sides of the sea.  But that’s another sermon, for another night.  And believe me, you shall hear it eventually!  For now, suffice it to say that Miriam is blatantly guilty of it here.
                So what’s the irony of Miriam’s gossiping?  It’s in the consequences.  If the irony were simple, Miriam would turn black.  She would become what she had complained about.  That would be simple, direct and transparent.  But the Torah reports a more subtle irony in Miriam’s punishment for her gossiping.  Instead of being turned black, she’s turned white.  That is, white as snow.  She’s afflicted with tzara’at, a condition where the victim develops white scales.  Our Torah portion likens it to one who comes out of the womb with half his flesh eaten away.  It’s a form of the disease known as leprosy, whose victims were as recently as the 19^th century consigned to colonies where they were isolated from society, so greatly was the disease feared.
                The irony is of course delicious because we all agree that skin color is a completely useless indicator of anything in a person’s character.  Martin Luther King, Jr. said in his famous speech in 1963: “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”  While it can be argued that racism still exists, we must acknowledge that it has been forced underground.  It is so socially unacceptable to express overt racism, that those who hold racist views are forced nevertheless to repudiate them.
                We Jews have our foibles.  We can and should continually examine ourselves for qualities that are undesirable.  Even if those qualities are pointed out by our detractors, it is good to look in the mirror and ask ourselves, am I really that way?  We are often accused of racism.  But I don’t find much evidence of that in Jewish circles.  Many of our congregations look like veritable United Nations of racial diversity.  Wherever I’ve lived or visited – my native USA, South Africa, the UK, Germany, Turkey – I’ve found Jews to be among the most tolerant people one can imagine.  Some would say we’re too reflexively tolerant and thus hurt ourselves in the process.  Even in Israel, which the world press loves to condemn as a ‘Racist Country,’ as an ‘Apartheid State,’ I find very little evidence of racial hatred.  For every Jew spontaneously shouting ‘mavet la’aravim’ – ‘death to the Arabs’ – after a terror attack, I find dozens who speak up against such sentiments, or who physically protect Arab citizens.
                   I see Miriam’s complaint against ‘the Cushite woman that Moses married’ as an attempt to use gossip to undermine her brother’s authority.  If that’s true, and she’s not expressing racial contempt, does that make it any less racist?  Of course not; if the Nazis cynically used folk images of Jews as sub-humans, while not really holding such views of Jews, does that lessen their repugnance in using such imagery in their quest to rid Europe of Jews?  I think you know the answer; it doesn’t matter one whit.
                So Miriam’s punishment for railing against a black woman – whatever her true complaint may have been – is deliciously ironic.  She is turned ‘white as snow’ with a skin affliction.  The Torah, no matter how it may have come into being, certainly speaks at times with a certain playfulness and drama.  It doesn’t come across as a bulldozer.  It contains multiple layers of wit, irony and satire for us to savor and try to understand.
                We now begin a Shabbat of rest, a Shabbat of peace, a Shabbat of worship, a Shabbat which gives us the refreshment to prepare ourselves for the quest of ‘tikkun olam’ in the coming week.  We read, along with the entire Jewish world, a slice of our Torah.  Let us rejoice in the beauty, in the truth, in the irony of that Torah.  Let us see its lessons subtle and direct, and allow them to make us better people, and a better people.