Thursday, July 30, 2015

The Right and The Good: A Reflection for Patashat Ve’etchanan, Saturday, 1 August 2015

There is much discussion concerning the difference between law and ethics.  Some of us may have a difficult time differentiating between the two.  But in reality, they are two different, if related concepts.
          Law has to do with what we are required to do, or to refrain from doing.  An example of the former:  in Australia and in many other countries, most citizens and residents are required by law to lodge an income tax return each year.  If you fail to lodge within the prescribed time limits and were required to do so, you face sanctions in the form of fines and interest on the amount of taxes you owe.  And an example of the latter:  murder is proscribed by law.  If a court finds you guilty of murder there will be sanctions, usually in the form of a lengthy prison sentence.
          That’s law.  The things, for which we are liable civilly or criminally, if we do or fail to do them.
          Ethics is different.  Some people conflate ethics and morality, using the terms interchangeably.  This is a valid use of the nomenclature.  Some people consider morality to be related, but not quite the same thing.  For the moment, let’s proceed on the basis of them meaning the same thing.
          Ethics has to do with what we do – or refrain from doing – which goes beyond the law.  It is shaped by how we intend to achieve a good result.  And it is measured by the extent, to which we actually do achieve a good result.
          Allow me to elaborate.  It is praiseworthy to desire a good outcome.  Every effort we make towards that end is, for the most part, a good thing.  But if a good result constantly eludes us despite our best intentions, then what’s the point?  As Dennis Prager observes, Most of the evil in the world comes as a result of the actions of those with good intentions.  Or to put it differently, The road to hell is paved with good intentions.  Even though we had intended a good result, what if we are constantly finding our efforts bring about an unintended, bad result?  Then we are clearly in error and should adjust the way we act, in order to achieve the results we desired in the first place.  How we act in our quest to achieve a good result, is called ethics or morality.  Ethics are often considered as being more demanding than law.  Something that may be permissible under law, might not be especially ethical.  Ethics is more difficult to define than law.  It is fuzzier at times.
          As you’ve probably come to understand, Hashem is concerned about both law and ethics.  The Torah is full of specific law:  the thou-shalt’s and thou-shalt-not’s that make up Taryag Hamitzvot, the 613 Commandments.  But G-d also cares supremely for the ethical side of behavior.  We are expected to do what is specifically commanded.  But we are also commanded to seek a good result.
          Sometimes, a good result requires that we set aside the law.  You probably know that the preservation of life, overrides almost all Jewish law.  We are forbidden to eat pork.  But if you are famished to the point where your well-being and even survival is in doubt, and a tin of ham is the only provision within reach, then you are allowed to eat it.  Preservation of life overrides the laws of kashrut.
          The preservation of life is not the only standard to be met if the law and ethics are considered to be in tension with one another.  Sometimes, the law is overridden by a lesser measure.  But the point is the same.  Law is binding, but sometimes a good result requires setting aside the law.  This is not to say that we should be eager to find occasions to set aside the law.  Rather, we should be willing to look beyond the law, and be ready to set it aside in very limited circumstances when a good result requires it.
          This week’s Torah reading, Parashat Ve’etchanan, teaches us the importance of both law and ethics.
          In chapter five of Deuteronomy, we find one of the two statements of what many consider to be the very acme of Jewish law:  The Ten Commandments.  These ten utterances, inscribed by Hashem on the very tablets that he gave Moses to carry down the mountain and present to the entire people Israel, are the most central and basic laws in the Torah.  They therefore are widely considered by be a symbol for the totality of G-d’s law.
          Closely following the Ten Commandments, is the passage that serves as the cornerstone of what we call ‘The Shema.’  In the sixth chapter of Deuteronomy, we find the statement:  Hear, O Israel!  Hashem is your G-d.  Hashem is One!  (Or, an alternative rendering:  Hashem alone!)
          And then, on the heels of that, is the passage known as Ve’ahavta:  You shall love Hashem your G-d with all your heart…
          We tend to think of the Shema and Ve’ahavta together, as the ultimate statement of theological principle in the Torah.  They certainly are the ultimate statement of religious ethics.  But the two are not mutually exclusive.
          As if we needed more proof of this, we look to the text which follows the Ve’ahavta.  In chapter six, verses 18 and 19, we find the following:  You shall do what is Right and Good in the eyes of Hashem, so that it will be good for you…

          What is Right – literally, ‘The Straight,’ Hayashar – and What is Good – literally, ‘The Good,’ Hatov – are distinct but complementary.  What is Right is the absolute, the specific ordinances of law that we’ve been given.  What is Good is the meta-principle, the result that we hope to achieve.  We are commanded concerning both.  And while in most circumstances the two are not in tension, sometimes in fact they are.  And when they are, it is occasionally incumbent upon us to transcend the law and reach for the Good.  Shabbat shalom.  

Say It Again, Moses! A Reflection for Parashat Ve’etchanan

Remember how, last week, I described the Book of Devarim as Moses’ valedictory address?  This book largely consists of his final exhortations to the people Israel as the time draws near for him to leave them.  The final book of the Torah is commonly called ‘Deuteronomy.’  This comes from the Greek words meaning ‘Second Telling.’  This acknowledges that much of the book’s content as restated, having been told already in the earlier parts of the Torah.
          The Ten Commandments are a good example of this.  They are first promulgated in the Book of Exodus, Parashat Yitro.  They are repeated, in a slightly different form, here in Parashat Ve’etchanan.
          But not all the important passages in Deuteronomy are just restatements of what we’ve been told before.  A good example is found in this week’s reading, in the Sixth chapter of Deuteronomy.  There we find the passage we know well, probably better than any other words of the Torah because we recite or chant it in Hebrew in every evening and morning service during the year.  I’m referring to The Shema, or at least the first part of the Shema:  Deuteronomy six, verses four through nine.  How well do we know this passage?  I would suggest that it is so well known that you can recite it in Hebrew from memory.  And even if you cannot translate Hebrew into English, you can probably recite the Shema in English translation, at least in one of its more popular renderings.
          Many of us know a number of other biblical passages because they are found in the siddur or because they are commonly used in various occasions.  A good example is the 23rd chapter of the Book of Psalms.  It’s used in almost every funeral, but also other memorial occasions.  Most of us know its words, in Hebrew and English, by memory.  So if we repeat a passage of scripture enough times, it becomes ‘available’ to us at any time, for any reason.
I’m guessing that each one of us has encountered, somewhere along the way, an Evangelical Christian who in conversation was able to cite and recite Bible verses:  far in excess of one key passage.  And probably in order to make debating points.  Eyal recently had his first such experience.  He accepted an invitation to drop in to some coffeehouse-type place in Boulder, Colorado.  Turns out it was a ‘Messianic,’ or Christian, outreach.  The man who was trying to convince Eyal, freely cited a number of verses.  Now Eyal was not convinced, but he was somewhat impressed at the man’s memorization of verses.  Having grown up in a Jewish household and attended a Jewish high school, he’d never experienced this.
          I explained to Eyal that this way of learning Bible, was popularized by an Evangelical group called The Navigators years ago.  They ‘perfected’ it and provide, for a nominal cost, decks of flashcards which believers use as an aid for the memorization.  The decks of cards are organised around the various themes in the Bible.  And the memorization puts these verses at one’s fingertips, without the need to grope for such passages during a conversation.
          Eyal asked me why we Jews don’t use this method of learning Tanach verses, so that we have them at our fingertips.  I’ve actually been asked this more than once.  Why don’t we Jews use this method, since it’s relatively easy, to place into our memory the key verses of Tanach?  That way, we could have at our fingertips what the Tanach says, so that we could respond to others’ questions and not hem and haw about what the scriptures teach, and where.
          I usually answer this by explaining that such memorization enables one to cite verses.  But the danger is that, without knowing the context, the surrounding text, one cannot fully understand what the Tanach is teaching us.  Another factor, is that we don’t tend to use Tanach as a verbal ‘weapon,’ to make debating points.  Instead, we try to grasp it as an organic whole, a sort of conversation that states certain specific points but has a discernable overall thrust that is at the heart of the matter.  The enterprise of trying to convince others of our religious position, is very much out-of-favour in Jewish circles.  For centuries, our ‘daughter’ faiths have embraced proselytization, specifically aimed at Jews, as a key religious practice.  Since antiquity, we generally have not.
          That said, I have to add that the devotion to the words of scripture, to the point that one carries around a deck of flash cards for learning Bible verses, is nothing short of praiseworthy.  If there is a danger involved, that of taking words out of their context, then look at the potential gain.  Jews generally are not so concerned about debating points regarding the Torah.  But knowing scripture this way is something worthwhile to strive for.
Many Jews will say that they are devoted to Torah, but expend little effort getting to know what it says.  Perhaps one day, a Jewish teacher will undertake a project of collecting the verses from our scriptures, that a Jew aught of have at his fingertips.  Perhaps it has already been done.  In any case, such a collection would be a worthwhile project.  It would be a way of helping us to fulfil the very instruction that we find in the text of the Ve’ahavta.  After all, it instructs us:  These words, which I command you this day, shall be upon your heart. 

So, the enterprise of committing scripture to memory is more than praiseworthy.  It is commanded.  How we do it is not terribly important.  But the enterprise of learning the words of Torah, to the point where we can recite them from memory, is already commanded unequivocally.  There are Jews who have the entire Torah committed to memory.  I’m not one of them!  I don’t think that such a herculean accomplishment is expected of each one of us.  But it isn’t beyond each one of us to have, committed to memory, key important verses.  Think about it, and think about how you might fulfil this commandment.  Shabbat shalom. 

What's On This Shabbat!

Dear Friends,

Please forgive the late notice...Clara and I were out of town for a few days, and I didn't take a computer with me.  (What a concept!  Should do that more often! :-))  At any rate, Shabbat approaches and Jewish Journeys will be offering the Friday evening service at 6.30PM in the Southport Community Centre, 6 Lawson Street, Room F5.  Please bring a dish to share.

And of course, Saturday morning service and fellowship at the Levy home, starting at 11.00AM.  Lunch provided.

Requested donation for either service is $15 per person.

Bank details are:

Jewish Journeys Ltd
Westpac The Ridge
BSB  034142 Acct 148110
We also accept cash and Credit Cardsd/EFTPOS at the event
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I want to thank those who have agreed to become members of Jewish Journeys.  So far we have three Eternal/Double Chai Members.  I'm attaching Gordon's letter offering membership one more time for those who may have accidentally deleted it.  (Note:  not attaching here.  Read down to last week's posts and you'll find it!)  If you have any questions about this, please do not hesitate to ask.
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Last call for those who have not yet offered to 'adopt' one or more siddurs.  We still have a number available.  $18 per siddur...just for shipping, the books were donated by a congregation in the USA.  Thank you very much to those who have already identified yourselves and paid.  
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I'm going to give you a 'vacation' from the Thought of the Week in the interest of getting this out right away.  Thank you for all your support and we certainly hope to see you this Shabbat!

 
Rabbi Don

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Go Up Already! A Reflection for Parahsat Devarim, 25 July 2015

Jews dance in Uman, Ukraine
When one is called to the Torah to pronounce the blessing in conjunction with the public reading of the text, it is referred to as an Aliyah, meaning an ascent.  In America, one typically uses the Hebrew word when referring to the experience, as in:  I went to synagogue on Shabbat, and I had an Aliyah.  For some reason, here in Australia it is referred to as simply, ‘a call-up’ as in:  I was in shul and was given a call-up.  I don’t know why the difference in nomenclature.  But the term Aliyah, ascent, denotes that one has truly ascended in spiritual terms, in being invited to bless the Torah in front of the community.  It is indeed an honour to be asked to perform this vital function.
          As you may know, Aliyah also refers to when a Jew immigrates to the State of Israel.  It is considered an ascent spiritually, but in other ways as well, to move from exile to the Jewish homeland.  It is in the written Torah where we see this use of the word.  The use of the verb alah, ascend, meaning to go to Israel.  The use of the noun, aliyah, referring to the act of ascent.  And the use of the noun, oleh or olah, meaning the one who ascends.  We find the word in all its forms, in today’s Torah reading from Parashat Devarim.
          Even secular Jews and Israelis, who might not focus on the spiritual side of obeying G-d’s command to go up, use the terms freely.  It is commonly recognised among Jews, that to go to live in Israel represents an uplifting.  This is of course, most pronounced when the Jew in moving to Israel, is leaving a place of persecution or exclusion.  But it even applies when the Jew is leaving one of the safe havens of the West to live in Israel.  Most Jews who make Aliyah from, say America, Canada or Australia, don’t think they’re going to physical safety:  usually the opposite!  But they see their move to Israel, which often comes only after a prolonged period of decision and preparation, as a journey toward greater self-fulfillment as a Jew. 
Ze’ev Chafets is an American Jew who made Aliyah years ago as a young adult and who has become an internationally-noted author and journalist.  Chafets wrote years ago, that in moving to Israel as a young, secular Jew he found it so wonderful to be in a place where it felt ‘normal’ to be a young secular Jew.
          (Chafets was actually a Reform Jew.  In fact, in his youth he was the national president of NFTY, the Reform Movement’s National Federation of Temple Youth.  Some years later in writing about his Aliyah experience he would see it as something he’d experienced as a secular Jew.  But that’s another sermon, for another day…)
           So even for the a-religious, and for the Jew not escaping to safety, there is still an element of ‘ascent’ in moving to Israel.  Likewise, when a Jew leaves Israel to live abroad, he is often said to make yeridah, descent, and is referred to as a yored, one who has descended.
          But the purpose of this reflection this morning is not to arm-twist you into the notion of moving to Israel.  This, despite that my son, Eyal has just done that very thing and that Clara and I are very proud of him.  Oh, I don’t want to discourage you from thinking about Aliyah…G-d forbid!  But, my purpose is to ask you to consider the very idea of ascent, or uplifting, and wonder why we don’t try harder to achieve that state.
          If you saw the Simon Schama miniseries The Story of the Jews, you saw a wild scene of Hassidic Jews celebrating in the town of Uman, in Ukraine.  It is the burial place of Rebbe Nachman, one of the most revered of the Hassidic masters.  If you search on YouTube, you can find many more videos of the celebrations there.  Just the other day, I watched one such video with the students in one of my classes and mused over the contrast between the unbridled and unselfconscious joy that the Jews there were expressing through their dancing.  That, and the dour looks I usually face when I try to get Jews here and elsewhere, dancing on Simchat Torah.  I’m not trying to get every Jew to be a Hassid.  But I think every Jew can, and should find joy in their Jewish observance and life.  But it’s a hard sell.
          We find it difficult to bring joy to our Jewish lives, because we find it difficult to bring joy to our lives, period.  So many of the people I encounter every day, Jewish or otherwise, are constantly oppressed by their lives.  I don’t mean just that they’re going through a rough time at any given moment.  Life is, after all, a succession of alternating highs and lows.  Clara and I, and our children, no less than any of you reading or hearing these words, have experienced success and failure.  Triumph and tragedy.  Moments of joy and sadness.  Sadness is an absolutely unavoidable part of life.  We are given occasions of sadness for a specific, very important reason.  In reality, most of the sadness in our lives is of our own making, the result of our own decisions and actions.  We are given them, so that we will learn to transcend them.  And we transcend them by approaching life in a spirit of Aliyah, of always ascending, of lifting ourselves up and looking towards ever greater, more joyful experiences.  We are not given sadness so that it will rule our very lives, that it will become the theme of our existence.  That it will oppress us and lead to addictions and mental illness.  We are given sadness and setbacks to enable us to learn to overcome them.  To take lemons and make lemonade.  To experience the triumph of ascent, of lifting ourselves out of our funk and moving on.
          I know far too many people who don’t even seem to want to lift themselves out of their funk.  Who seem to relish it.  Who chew it over and analyse it endlessly.  Who make it the very theme of their lives.  I’m not trying to minimize the effects of depression and other mental illnesses, to toss them off as a lack of will.  But in all reality, a lack of will to overcome the sadness of our lives, is something that I see again and again…and again.  It takes people who have experienced the kinds of setbacks that should be expected in life, and causes them to descend into their own prison of depression.
          In this week’s Torah reading we read Moses’ rebuke of the people Israel.  He recounts the journey that the people had undertaken in the wilderness.  And how he sent ahead spies, to look over the Land of Israel and report back.  And how the spies, ten of the twelve, brought back an evil report which killed the spirit of the people.  And he rebuked them.  You did not wish to ascend!  (Deuteronomy 1.26) They did not wish to lift themselves up.  Instead, they were content to cower in their tents and speculate that G-d hated them.
          In reading these words this week, I wasn’t thinking so much about ascent in terms of Aliyah, moving to Israel.  This despite my own family experience of last week.  Rather, I was thinking of those Jews in Uman, and of the joy they are able to experience and express.  And the contrast to what I see in so many of my fellow Jews, here and elsewhere.  In so many of my fellow citizens, period.

          And I want to say this:  ascend from your bitterness, from your disappointments and failures.  Accept them as the consequences of living.  But don’t let them become the theme of your life.  Make your own theme.  And make it a theme of joy.  Even when you feel that there’s a weight on your back that you’re unable to lift.  Lift up your back anyway.  Feel the joy that comes with triumph over sadness.  And dance.  Shabbat shalom.

A Compelling Valedictory: A Reflection for Parashat Devarim, 24 July 2015

In America, there’s a tradition when a class graduates from high school.  The top-performing student, measured by their grades throughout the high school years, is designated Class Valedictorian.  And the second-best performing student is designated Class Salutatorian.  Both students are invited to speak at the Commencement Ceremony.
          (I always wondered why it was called a Commencement.  After all, the ceremony marks the completion of the student’s high school years, not their start.  It’s like the American custom of calling the main dish in a dinner, the entrée.  That word should designate the starters, if anything.  But I digress…)
          As you can imagine, Valedictorian and Salutatorian speeches vary as much as the students who delivery them.  Many of the honorees are happy to give a placid speech about the joy of memories and the joy of new beginnings.  But some feel compelled to use their limelight to say something controversial.  Something that is meant as a rebuke of their fellow students, the school administration, or society in general.  Obviously, the student who takes this third path, risks the ire of many present.  People don’t like to be rebuked…who does??!  But sometimes, when one is given a one-time opportunity to be heard by a large audience, it is hard to resist. 
          I have a colleague who was Valedictorian of his class, in Lafayette, Louisiana in the 1970’s.  He used his speech to rebuke the community for not moving with a full heart, from the racist ways of the Antebellum South.  Twenty years later I happened through the community and they were still talking about it.  His rebuke had surely fallen on some fertile ground of people who were happy to hear it, or who at least took it to heart.  But for others, he had opened a wound that remains festering to this day.  The main thing, though was that he didn’t craft the speech in the hopes of winning a popularity contest.  The Valedictorian is not chosen in a popular vote.  It is a strict accounting of grade-point-average.
In my weekly reflections as a Rabbi, I occasionally deliver a drash that could be accurately called, a rebuke.  It’s a perfectly valid use for a speech.  Of course, it’s important to balance rebuke with consolation and comfort.  Taking people outside their comfort zone is sometimes useful and even necessary.  But of course if people feel their Rabbi or other leader is ‘beating them up’ constantly, then their message will easily be lost.
          Moses, in the Book of Deuteronomy which we begin this Shabbat with Parashat Devarim, begins delivering a multi-part valedictory address to the people Israel.  His Swan Song.  Hashem has sentenced him to die before the conquest of the Land of Israel begins.  The reins of leadership will be passed to Joshua Bin Nun.  As you remember, Joshua was one of the Twelve Spies whom Moses sent to scout the Land, each one from a different tribe.  Joshua represented the Tribe of Ephraim, one of the two sons of Joseph, in the squad.  Joshua, and Caleb ben Yephunneh, the representative of the Tribe of Judah, were the only two spies who brought back a positive and encouraging report.  The other ten brought back a tale of gloom concerning the inhabitants of the Land.  They told the assembled people that they’d be better off returning to a life of servitude in Egypt, than trying to conquer the Land.  Joshua told Moses:  With G-d’s help, we can conquer it.
          So Moses, whether he thinks his fate is fair or not, has accepted his fate and is offering his farewell.  And there is some bitterness in his words.  Despite great triumphs along the way, his tone is that of a defeated man.  And that’s reasonable; the one prize that he had been aiming at these last 40 years is being denied him.
          So his valedictory address comes forward as a rebuke.  He reminds the people Israel of all the times they have sinned against Hashem during their years of wandering in the wilderness.  He’s not going let them off the hook, perhaps because he wishes to help propel his successor to success by goading the people to rally behind him and not rebel at the slightest turn of events.  As they did to Moses.
          It would be easy to accuse Moses of lacking faith.  Really, that’s the ostensible reason for his death before entering the Land of Israel.  Remember the pronouncement?  Because you struck the rock instead of obeying my instruction to call forth the waters.  Because Moses lacked the faith to carry out G-d’s instruction to the letter, he was judged unworthy to lead the people into the Land.  Perhaps.  Or perhaps Moses is just tired and worn-out from the responsibility, from the constant bickering and need to defend himself and G-d.  But if that were the case, why would his sentence be to not see the fulfilment of his dream?  About thi we can only speculate.

          So Moses delivers a valedictory that comes forth, at times, as a stunning rebuke.  He’s more worried that the people will learn from their mistakes, than that he, Moses, will be remembered fondly for the comfort and consolation he offered.  And that is the mark of a True Leader.  He’s concerned that his leadership will lead to good things.  More than his concern over the fondness, with which he’ll be remembered.  And the truth is that our tradition does not remember him in fondness.  Rather, we remember him in greatness.  As the Rambam stated some 24 centuries after Moses’ death:  All the Prophets are true.  And Moses is the greatest of them all.  Shabbat shalom.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Letter from Gordon Graham, Chairman, Jewish Journeys

Dear Friends,

We’re writing to give you an overview as Jewish Journeys Ltd enters its second year of outreach and to invite you to become a member of our organization.

Our goal in founding Jewish Journeys was to enable Rabbi Don and Clara Levy to continue their outstanding support to Jewish life in Queensland which they initially provided during their tenure at Temple Shalom. 

Due to the size of our group we couldn’t support the retention of a full-time rabbi. Instead we agreed to create a Jewish Outreach structure which would give Rabbi Don and Clara the flexibility to serve the greater community whilst building interest for what they had to offer. 

As you are aware there were a number of challenges along the way.  Each one of you has contributed to make our goal a reality: including Rabbi Don and Clara, Board of Directors, donors and of course all who avail themselves of our programs.  We enjoy the services, socials, classes and synergy and creativity that go into them.  We have witnessed a real community developing and wish to see it continue to strengthen and endure.

Upon inception Jewish Journeys has operated on a pay-as-you-go basis:  if you attend a service or class or require a personal service from the Rabbi, you pay a nominal fee.  Rabbi Don’s reasoning for proceeding on this basis was clear.  We were starting from nothing and needed to generate revenue to begin operations and start growing.

Now that Rabbi Don and Clara have had their visa extended to remain in Australia, this is an opportune time to take our next step in consolidation.  The Jewish Journeys Board of Directors has now decided to actively recruit members from among those who most benefit from our outreach. 

If you are touched by our work, we invite you to become a member of Jewish Journeys. 

1.     Regular or Associate Membership subscriptions are AUD $1200 per year ($100 per month). 
Those who are Jewish will be offered Regular Membership whilst non-Jews will be offered Associate Membership.  The only difference is that Regular Members will receive voting and office-holding rights.
2.     Two adults living in the same household can take membership at the Sustaining or ‘Chai’ level for AUD $1800 per year ($150 per month).  The only difference between Regular and Chai memberships is that the latter include voting and office-holding rights for two adult Jewish members in the same household.
3.     We are also offering Eternal, or ‘Double Chai’ memberships.  They include all the benefits of Regular/Associate and Chai memberships, voting and office-holding rights for two adult Jewish members in the household, plus attendance at any classes at no extra cost.  Subscription for Double Chai Membership is AUD $3600 per year ($300 per month).

Apart from voting rights, the tangible benefits of membership are several. 

·       At any level, Members and members of their household and guests can attend regular Shabbat services – Friday evening and Saturday morning – without paying additional fees.  However, we will ask members to pay additionally when attending special services, especially where meals are served. 
·       Members will receive discounts for classes, and person-to-person pastoral services are included.
·       To attend services (along with members of your household and guests) without paying each time, makes the Regular/Associate Membership pay for itself.  The benefit to Jewish Journeys is a more steady revenue stream, and having a way to get those most touched by our work more invested and involved in what we do.
·       Double Chai Members and their immediate family attend all classes and most special services for no additional cost.

Application for Memberships is easy:  application forms are available at all programs. 
Method of payment is optional: 
One-off or monthly
By cash, cheque, bank transfer.  EFTPOS/debit/credit (Mastercard or Visa) is also available.

You may be questioning why are we asking a larger financial commitment in return for membership than Jewish congregations in the area?  Membership subscriptions of those congregations amount to little more than ‘token’ fees.  These bear little relationship to the actual running costs of their organizations.  They all have accumulated substantial bank balances, the result of generous donations and legacies over decades of operation.

You do not need to feel compelled to take up a membership and are welcome to continue attending and paying/donating casually as you enjoy our services.   

As we approach the High Holy Days of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we ask that you prayerfully consider taking up membership in Jewish Journeys as a way of partnering with us to strengthen Jewish Life in Southeastern Queensland.

Best regards and thank you in advance,



Gordon Graham

Chairman

What's On and Thought for the Week

Dear Friends,

Here's your weekly reminder of what we're doing here on the Gold Coast to celebrate this week:

- Friday evening at the Southport Community Centre, Room F5, at 6.30PM.  Service to welcome Shabbat, followed by an Oneg featuring everybody's culinary offerings.  $15 per person requested donation and bring a dish to share.

- Saturday at the Levy home.  11.00AM Service followed by lunch provided.  Then, after lunch a bit of Pirkei Avot.  $15 per person requested donation.

- Sunday at the Levy home.  TIsha B'Av - the Fast of the Ninth of Av.  The fast will take place from sunset on Saturday, 25 July through sunset on Sunday, 26 July.  Fasting or not, we invite you to come to the Levy home on Sunday afternoon at 3.00PM for study, special prayers, and breaking the fast.  A light evening meal of soup, salad and bread will be provided.  We're asking a $15 donation as with most of our services.  Please let us know if you're coming!  (This special gathering on Sunday will be in addition to the regular Shabbat gatherings Friday and Saturday.)
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Thank you so much for those who have agreed to sponsor the shipping for siddurs.  Over half of them have now been sponsored.  Who else will step forward?  The cost is AUD $18 per book.  If you want to have a book of your own, we're asking $50.  This siddur is Mishkan T'filah for Weekdays and Festivals.  As an example of their usefulness, we will use them for our afternoon/evening prayers on Sunday.
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We haven't yet set a new date for the Yard Sale, but we're still willing to take your second-hand treasures that are taking up your space, off your hands.  Let me know if you have anything for us to pick up, or just bring it when you attend.
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Please see the attached letter from Gordon Graham, Chairman of Jewish Journeys.  It's about membership in Jewish Journeys, an option we're making available at this time.  If you have any questions at all about it or cannot read the attachment, feel free to contact me personally. (Note...letter's text will be posted here in a separate post.)
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We're now in a series of weekly thoughts in the area of Shemirat Lashon, literally 'Guarding the Tongue' but referring to the vast body of Jewish law concerning forbidden communications via speech or writing of any kind.

Almost every day, somebody in the Jewish community - including our little circle and the larger community - says something to convince me that this is THE problem in the Jewish community today.  It is a Hillul Hashem - a desecration of G-d's Name - and makes a mockery of all our claims of the mantle of Torah.  The essence of the laws is that we are forbidden to convey any adverse information about someone else except in very limited, rare circumstances.

I'm bringing to you the teachings of the Chofetz Chaim, Rabbi Israel Meir Kagan (1839-1933), who published extensively on the subject and indeed is considered the all-time master teacher on what the Torah has to say about the laws of permitted and forbidden speech.

Rabbi Kagan teaches:  It is forbidden to relate derogatory information about someone even when the subject has made it known that he doesn't mind such things being said of him.

Now why would someone actually let people know that he doesn't mind people talking derogatorily of him?  Perhaps he is truly sorry about this behavior, has turned away from it, and wants others to benefit from his experience.  An example that immediately comes to mind, is if someone has been addicted to drugs, turned his life around only after hitting bottom, and wants to serve as an example for others to avoid drug addition.  This is a noble sentiment; when someone is willing and even eager to tell his story of downfall and rebound, it makes us want to discuss it.  After all, that's the subject's express wish.

Here's the problem.  Even one who has serioously erred and wants to serve as a negative example to others, is still made betzelem Elokim - in the Image of G-d.  He may go public with his former failing for a good purpose, but he is still an exalted creature by nature.  Even though repeating the derogatory information about him is as he wishes, he cannot really make the choice of defaming G-d by extension, which will be the unintended consequence of people talking about him in this manner.  So, even when such a person has given express permission to speak of his negative acts, we must speak of him only in the positive.  Not "Ploni was a drug addict two years ago," but "Ploni has worked hard and succeeded in living cleanly in the past two years."  Not "Ploni turned his life around after his being jailed for embezzlement," but "Ploni has, in past two years, championed a number of causes that made our city a better place."  I think you get the idea.
 
I hope that everybody is having a great week and look forward to seeing as many of you as possible on Shabbat!

Rabbi Don

Thursday, July 16, 2015

The Ethics of Arms: A Reflection for Parashat Mattot, 18 July 2015

I know that I’ve expressed more than a little nostalgia for my time as a chaplain in the US Air Force.  One aspect of my service that stands out is the joy of getting to know, and work with, chaplains of other faiths.  We all worked under very different basic religious assumptions.  Yet we didn’t find it hard to transcend those differences as we served the troops and their families.
          One of my colleagues whose memory is particularly precious to me, is the Catholic priest who served as my mentor during my first assignment.  Father Vern Shuler, of blessed memory.  But once I worked with a priest who was rather problematic.  He tried to bait me for sport.  I don’t think he was mean-spirited.  He just had a fondness for mental jousting that would manifest itself now and then as he made what I saw as outlandish declarations in casual conversation.  I would sometimes respond in kind which only provoked him further.
          One time, the priest said something that really gave me pause.  He declared that we Jews had invented Ethnic Cleansing, and he pointed to the 31st chapter of the Book of Numbers to prove his point.  There, we find the account of the vengeance of the Israelites against the Midianites.  In chapter 25, we read about Midianite women seducing Israelite men and leading them to idolatrous practices.  The result was a plague that killed 24,000 Israelites.  At the time, Moses promised to avenge the Midianites for leading the Israelite men to sin; in this chapter he carries out the promise.  Here, our people commit wholesale slaughter of the men of Midian.  Moses, on hearing they had allowed the Midianite women to live, was livid.  Since it was the daughters of Midian who lad led the Israelite men astray, he wanted the vengeance to be carried out particularly against them.  He ordered that not one girl above puberty be allowed to live.
          Now my Catholic colleague was absolutely wrong; this was not the first recorded ethnic cleansing in history.  But he was correct in that this is a problematic episode…to say the least.  It is reasonable that it least gives some credence to a claim that we Jews, historically, are not exactly the peace-loving people we like to think that we are.  We confront this passage today, in the parashah Mattot which is half of our double portion this week.
          I had a snappy answer to my colleague.  I snatched his Bible off his desk.  “Is this your holy book?” I asked him.  When he responded that it was, I flipped open to the chapter in question, Numbers 31.  Then I asserted that, since his own holy book records this incident with no hint of rebuke toward Moses, then he – the priest – must understand the purge as ordained by G-d.  Having made my debating point, I felt good.  I returned to my own office to start my day’s work.
          I was thinking about this encounter this week, because as you may now, my son Eyal made his Aliyah; he immigrated to Israel to serve in the defence forces of one of the two countries in which he holds citizenship.  A day or two before he boarded his flight to Ben Gurion Airport, we had a conversation about the morality of the Israel Defence Forces.
          Eyal went voluntarily; the IDF does force citizens who have never actually lived in Israel to serve.  Eyal could have gone through his life in the USA or elsewhere, without ever having to worry about it.  But about a year and a half ago, he made a decision to serve in the IDF if possible and enrolled in a program assisting young Israelis living abroad to make the transition, make their Aliyah, and serve.  He’s headed for a couple of months of acclimatization and processing and will actually enlist in the army in October or so.
          I’ve addressed in the past, that Israel gets extremely bad press in the world’s mainstream media.  It is nothing short of tragic that professional journalists, with an important function of keeping the public informed, do so with a pronounced bias.  Israel is not alone on the wrong side of that bias, mind you, but she seems to be a favourite object of negative reporting.  The incredible thing is that, whenever a major media outlet is exposed as having botched a story to Israel’s disadvantage, there’s never a price to pay.  People keep devouring the news from the BBC and Reuters, to give examples of two of the biggest offenders, and ascribe to their reporting a high degree of credibility.  But if they manipulate the news about Israel, doesn’t that call into question all of their reporting?  That is doesn’t for so many consumers of the news, is nothing short of incredible.
          Look, this is not to say that Israel is akin to Mother Theresa.  But she certainly is not Jack the Ripper, as is popularly portrayed.  The reality is that Israel, trying to stay alive and thrive in a bad neighbourhood, with neighbours who don’t particularly want her there, is one of the most tolerant, open, liberal, multicultural countries in the world.  And her army is held to a higher standard by her citizens, than almost any army in the world.  And few armies in the world are at war every day of their existence the way that Israel’s is.
          Most of us experience some degree of jitters when we undertake a big change in our lives.  So too Eyal.  As he prepared to travel to Israel and put into motion the process that will end with him donning the uniform of the IDF later this year, he began to listen ever more keenly to reportage on Israel.  And much of it is negative.  He began to wonder; would he be expected to engage in immoral actions?  Since everybody “knows” that Israel “illegally occupies” someone else’s land and uses her army to enforce that occupation, wasn’t it likely that Eyal would be forced by consequences and military discipline to act immorally?
          You can tell by my use of quotes that I question the premises so widely accepted in much of the world.  So Eyal and I had a long talk about what actually constitutes occupation, and about why I believe the Israeli presence in Judea and Samaria does not qualify as occupation.  About the history of why Israel came to erect barriers between her citizens and those who engaged, before those barriers, in almost-daily terror attacks resulting in hundreds of deaths over the years.  Sbarro Pizzeria.  Dolphinarium Disco.  The Netanya Wedding.  And hundreds of other incidents.  The attacks were devastating in such a small country.  So the Israelis built a barrier and checkpoints to enforce a modicum of security.  And it has largely worked.  Some of you have seen the Simon Schama miniseries, The Story of the Jews, produced for the BBC.  Schama stands in front of one section of the barrier that definitely reminds one of the Berlin Wall and asks:  “What does this do to the soul of a nation?”  But in the next breath, he looks straight at the camera and states that he, who has not lived under the existential threats that Israel faces, is unqualified to judge.  Of course now, a three years after the production of the series, Schama and other Britons know firsthand the reality of terror.  In truth, we all do.  Schama is certainly correct in regretting that the existence of Israel, and her neighbours’ refusal to accept that fact, has led to the existence of a stockade-like barrier that snakes across the Judean landscape.  And he is also correct in his refusal to pass judgement against the Israelis for building it.  The barrier is an ugly reminder of an ugly truth.  At the end of the day, it has saved untold Israeli lives.  If the jihad would end tomorrow, the wall’s removal would surely follow.  
          The slaughter of the Midianites is a difficult passage to understand in our age.  The Torah does not condemn Moses for his brutality towards the Midianites.  But our sages have never understood that this is to be used as an example in determining the threshold for going to war, or the limits of behavior in war, afterwards.  Rabbi Shlomo Goren, the first Chief Rabbi of the IDF, taught this clearly in Meishiv Milchamah, his monumental work on morality and war.  Citing the Rambam, Goren pointed out the Rambam’s teaching that the wars against the Canaanite nations were to be seen as a unique category of war, a one-time event, necessary for the cleansing of the land prior to the Israelites’ conquest.  They are not to be seen as an example for later generations; later enemies of the people Israel cannot be seen as incarnations of the Canaanites.  Therefore, a very different ethic concerning the conduct of war has been enshrined in the Halachah.  That ethic in large part, forms the basis of the standards within which the IDF today is expected to operate.
          Knowing this, even whilst knowing that it means the IDF will place its troops in great danger to prevent large scale injury to non-combatants, is comforting to me as the parent of a young man who will soon serve in Israel’s army.  My saying this, may sound counter-intuitive.  Of course, like any parent of a young person performing military service, I pray that he will be safe.  But it is also my prayer that his service will not force him to behave in ways that will compromise his ethics, his sense of right and wrong.

          The war against the Midianites certainly was brutal according to the standards that we accept today.  But the Torah teaches us that it was necessary.  Even so, our tradition teaches that it will never be repeated.  In our time, measures enacted in Judea and Samaria to control the contagion of terror are regrettable yet not brutal in perspective.  And if we’re giving Israel a fair hearing, we can understand how they are necessary.  The IDF is definitely not Jack the Ripper.  Rather, it is a very moral force which has been handed a difficult mission.  We can be proud of the Israeli Army as it faces the difficulties that fate has handed it.  We can be proud of our Israeli cousins who step forward proudly to serve and protect their country – our country.  Shabbat shalom.

A Laconic Travelogue: A Reflection for Parashat Masei, Friday 17 July 2015

A few weeks ago, I saw a note posted on Facebook by a colleague from my Navy days.  It was to inform us that a second colleague was blogging, and that his blog was “worth checking out.”  So of course, out of curiosity I looked up his blog and began reading.  The blog is about his travels.  He is retired and peripatetic; he and his wife live on a boat in Malaysia in the winter, and in an RV in the USA in the summer.  During this part of the year they travel about the Western states, but also take advantage of the superior health care in the USA to get the ongoing health issues of middle age taken care of.
I sat and read about three weeks’ worth of almost daily posts on the blog.  It was interesting after a fashion because I knew this guy years ago and was curious about what he’s up to now.  On the other hand, I haven’t become a follower of the blog because in all honesty it is more than a little dry.  It is about how he goes from place to place, what routes he takes, what the traffic and weather is like, how he finds his nightly parking places, how he communicates with family on the road.  It chronicles his health issues and doctors’ appointments.  It talks about the difficulties he experiences in keeping his journal that serves as the basis of his blog.  It reads somewhat like the intelligence reports we used to write in the day.  In short, his blog is…well, boring.
Whenever I interview someone who wants to pursue conversion to Judaism, I use part of the interview just to chat with the person and learn what they’re about, not specifically to talk about Judaism.  A question I’ll often throw in is:  What was your favourite book that you have read?  Sometimes, if I don’t know the individual, they approach the interview with more than a little nervousness.  That’s understandable.  After all, I have something they want, and they want to make a good impression.  But I always roll my eyes when they answer the question about the book:  The Torah.  (Alternative answer:  The Tanakh.  Most of these individuals at least know not to call it, The Old Testament!)
Look, it’s not that I don’t think The Torah, or the Tanakh, is a good and worthwhile book.  I would say that I would have to think so, to be in the ‘business’ I’m in, except that some of my colleague expend much effort denigrating our holy texts.  So I don’t have to think they’re great books, but I do.  But neither the Five Books of Moses, nor the Tanakh as a whole, is really compelling as literature.  They’re far too laconic.  Like my friend’s blog, they focus on the physical actions, and leave so much detail out.  It’s those details that make good, compelling reading.  That’s why I devour the books of Tom Clancy, and Dan Brown, and Faye Kellerman, and John Grisham to name several of my favourite authors.  All the above really weave a compelling narrative and riveting dialogues.  The Torah and Tanakh?  Not so much.  That’s why we have to discipline ourselves to study Torah.  The text doesn’t magnetically draw is in.
I hope you don’t think I’m committing heresy by saying this.  Or criticizing the Torah.  I’m only trying to be honest.  And judging by how many Tanakhs are quietly gathering dust on your bookshelves at home, I think I’m in good company.
Take this week’s Torah reading as an example.  We have a double portion this week:  Mattot-Masei.  The latter portion opens with the words:  These are the journeys of the Children of Israel who went forth from the land of Egypt.  And then, for the next 48 verses, we read the most prosaic travelogue imaginable.  The children of Israel journeyed from Ramses and encamped at Sukkot.  They journeyed from Sukkot and encamped at Etham, which is on the edge of the wilderness.  They journeyed from Etham and it turned back to Pi-hahirot, which is before Ba’al-tzefon, and they encamped before Migdal.  And that’s only three verses!  Imagine reading this narrative as it continues for 48 verses!  Why doesn’t the Torah tell us some more detail about what happened in those places, what the people experienced, how they reacted and felt?  Why isn’t there more of a story??!
     Rabbi Dr Benjamin Apple from Sydney, in his e-mail lesson this week, offers a good explanation.  He points out that many of those details have been chronicled elsewhere.  The itinerary of the Israelites’ travels is chronicled here with so little detail, because the text’s only purpose is to remind the Israelites of how far they’ve come, or how torturous a path they’ve travelled.  They know, and it is chronicled elsewhere, what happened and what they experienced there.  The entire itinerary is reiterated here in very laconic form, simply to set the scene for what’s happening in the larger text.
And what’s happening, if you read onward from the end of the little travelogue, is a long set of specific instructions.  On how the Israelites were to conduct themselves once they had taken possession of the land.  In other words, to me, the repetition of the itinerary is a literary device to remind the Israelites of how far and long they have come to possess the land.  As if to say:  You didn’t just waltz in from Egypt.  You therefore must take your possession of the land very seriously.  You must be good stewards.  You must remember all you’ve been taught of what G-d expects of you, and maintain those standards when you are in your land.  It is the wilderness that has forged you into the nation you are today, but the reason you have been so forged is to create in this land a light to the nations.
In other words, at least at this reading, the emphasis is on the destination – not the journey.  And that’s okay.  I know that I emphasise the journey, but the two foci are not mutually exclusive.  Sometimes, it is important to see the journey as preparing us for some end.  And to focus less on the details of the journey itself.
So my colleague’s blog – which is totally about the journey and the banal details along the way – is not in any way an inferior narrative.  It simply has a focus that is perhaps difficult for the casual reader to see.  But then, it doesn’t seem to have been written with the casual reader in mind.  Rather, it is written for close friends and family members, who want to read what, to someone who doesn’t know this man and his wife, might seem uninteresting.
Likewise, on the surface the reading that opens the Torah portion Masei, the chronicle of where the people Israel have travelled in their wanderings from Egypt until shortly before their entrance into the land of Israel, is not really for the benefit of the casual reader who happens upon it.  Rather, its purpose is to remind the Israelites of how far and long they have travelled to their present place, on the cusp of their entry into Canaan.  It’s as if Hashem is saying:  See what a long road this has been…don’t screw up now!

Looked at thusly, this seemingly prosaic travelogue really sets the stage for an epic account of an incredible adventure to come.  But you have to keep reading to get there.  So…keep reading!  Shabbat shalom.