Morethodoxy: Exploring the Breadth, Depth and Passion of Orthodox Judaism

Rabbi Eugene Korn is American director of the Center for Jewish-Christian Understanding and Cooperation in Efrat, and former editor of Meorot — A Forum of Modern Orthodox Discourse.

Reprinted by permission from the New Jersey Jewish Standard

http://www.jstandard.com/content/item/brilliance_and_benevolence/26523#

“When I was young I admired clever people. Now that I am old I admire kind people,” Abraham Joshua Heschel once told a group of senior citizens.

He was not pandering to his audience but being open and truthful. After a number of life journeys, I believe today that Rabbi Heschel was right. I can’t say whether my conclusion stems from increased wisdom or approaching old age, but I am sure that he was correct.

Earlier in life I attended a traditional yeshiva suffused with the Lithuanian ethos of Talmud study and obedience to Jewish law, whatever it demands. It taught us that our highest ethical virtues were cognitive excellence and unflinching dedication. That educational experience was shaped by a narrative about R. Elijah of Vilna. We knew him simply as “the Gaon” — “the genius” — and as the embodiment of brilliance and single-mindedness.

Our teachers never tired of recounting to us that late in life the Gaon’s sister made the long difficult journey to see her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in more than ten years. When she arrived, the Gaon’s wife greeted her and told her that the Gaon was in the back room studying Talmud, as usual. He emerged a short while later, said hello, and asked his sister how she was. Then he excused himself, saying “It’s nice of you to come, but now I must return to my studies.” In fact there is no evidence this dialogue actually occurred, but its veracity is less important than the fact that my teachers wanted me to believe it and for it to mold my character.

We learned to revere the Gaon for his genius, and he became the model to which we all aspired.

All this focus on cognitive excellence led me to study philosophy — and naturally I took to the most outstanding rationalist philosophers. My heroes became Moses Maimonides and Immanuel Kant. The medievalist Maimonides developed the most sophisticated Jewish metaphysics ever, focusing on the nature of God and achieving human excellence through acquiring knowledge. His God was austerely rational, devoid of any trace of emotion. Maimonides even claimed that anyone who believed that God had anything like the human emotion of caring was a rank heretic. Ultimately, Maimonides’ God was a necessary postulate, the locus of all metaphysical truth. Godliness was all about knowing.

The greatest modern philosopher, Kant, was also a thoroughgoing rationalist. Kant’s moral philosophy taught that there was only one ethical rule that human beings should always follow: “Be rational.”

I could never hope to be as brilliant as these two philosophers, but I absorbed the lesson that the good life was all about striving for greater knowledge and rationality. Nothing else much matters.

There is an enormous difference between pure reason — analytical intelligence — and empathetic intelligence — the ability to feel what others feel, care about their pain and be moved to alleviate it. In fact, history is replete with people who have prodigious logical intelligence but are miserable human beings. Bernard Madoff is a prime example. He was an exceptional analyst but could feel none of his victims’ suffering.

I suspect that both Maimonides and Kant suffered from this imbalance too. Maimonides believed that people without philosophic wisdom were like beasts of the field with a human form, and Kant claimed that logical consistency was a greater virtue than saving a human life. He taught that it is better to let someone die rather than lie to a would-be murder about the future victim’s whereabouts. Both thinkers are proof that logical brilliance sometimes runs amok and crowds out human empathy.

On a lesser scale, I have seen my share of rabbis who are analytic geniuses yet issue rulings utterly lacking in concern for others because they believe their legal reasoning so dictates.

I no longer admire such people. I realize that it is the capacities to empathize and act compassionately toward others that define our humanness, not impersonal brainpower. Surely it is no virtue to be mindless, but brilliance not tempered with kindness and caring is no virtue.

This is the normative teaching of the Talmudic rabbis, despite their medieval philosophic disciples or some modern Talmudists who speak in their name. The God of the Talmud is a doer of kindnesses — chesed — for others (Sotah 14a). God clothes the naked, feeds the hungry, visits those who are sick, and comforts those who are grieving. Elsewhere, the Talmud (Ketubot 62b) tells us about Rabbi Rechumei, who was constantly studying at the great yeshivah of Mehoza and visited his wife only once a year, before Yom Kippur. Once he became so engrossed in studies that he forgot to come home. His wife longed for him that Yom Kippur eve, believing every moment that R. Rechumei would soon arrive.

When she finally realized that he was not coming, a warm tear rolled down her cheek. The episode ends tragically, when the roof on which R. Rechumei was studying collapses and causes his death.

This story is a remarkable self-critique by the Talmudic rabbis of their own behavior and the culture of study. The message is unmistakable: When study and intellectual endeavor become so paramount that they leave no room for caring, the result is death. Clearly it is no virtue to pursue such a skewed value system.

Did the Vilna Gaon’s sister shed a tear when her brother refused her more than five minutes of his time? Perhaps no wet tears rolled down her cheek, but surely her soul cried out at her brother’s insensitivity. When I teach today, I study the story of R. Rechumei with my students, not the story of the Gaon.

King David told us that “The world is built with chesed” (Psalms 89:3). According to tradition, he wrote this as a tender young shepherd, not in his old age. This set of values didn’t come from sentimentality or an irrational fear of approaching mortality, but from a clear understanding of the world and human virtue.

So if presented with a choice between a naturally kind but unlearned person and a brilliant rabbi or philosopher with little empathy for other people, I’d choose the former. Both King David and Abraham Heschel knew that he is the greater human being, the one who will make the world a better place.

Rabbi Freundel’s detailed analysis of the halakhic basis for Partnership Minyanim demonstrates an impressive mastery of the relevant texts. But, in assessing this new practice, it is important to examine not only the halakhic responsa but also some of the underlying assumptions about women, men, and the formulation of law within the Orthodox community that are implied in his analysis. 

One recurrent theme among those who contend that Partnership Minyanim is not supported by the halakha is that people like me who attend Partnership Minyanim and find them meaningful are ends-driven. That is to say, Partnership Minyanim supporters are thought to act solely on an emotional basis and to use halakha in service of their personal needs and desires, to satisfy ulterior motives. On a very simple level, I would invite anyone who questions the validity of Partnership Minyanim to attend one. After observing the delicate maneuvering around the mechitzah and careful attention to roles during the tefila, I would ask if they cannot recognize the effort to remain firmly connected to Orthodox practice. What kind of ulterior motive would someone have for the spending the same amount of time on Shabbat morning, saying the same tefillot, listening to a Dvar Torah with women doing select portions unless they felt themselves to be Orthodox?

But taking this one step further, it is untenable to assert that advocates of Partnership Minyanim are the only people who are argue their case with a hidden agenda in mind. Everyone comes with a context.  Partnership Minyanim supporters are criticized for a failure to engage with the traditional Orthodox sources in an intellectually honest manner and their analyses are seen as an attempt to retrofit the law to their desires. However, I posit that the notion that one can distinguish between purely emotional and rational grounds for halakhic decision making is a straw man. Life is complex and both elements, in varying proportion, motivate religious people to ask questions about their practices and examine their interaction with halakha. The derogation of emotional or subjective factors in religious conduct can be destructive of genuine spiritual striving. It assumes that people’s emotional state can be reliably read and judged. Unfortunately, this presumption is more often made about women than men. Moreover, the contribution of non-legal factors and personal priorities is given much greater leeway in other areas of law that do not impact on the status of women. Witness the vigorous debate between different segments of the Orthodox community in Israel today about how to best observe shmita as evidence that how the Jewish jurisprudence assesses the corpus of law changes dramatically depending on context and personal preferences. All sorts of factors have been brought into play including the viability of Israeli agriculture in a global market and enriching Arab farmers at the expense of Jewish farmers, environmental concerns, public education, and attitudes towards the performance of mitzvot. There are always meta-halakhic issues that are involved in decision making – consider the rabbinic imperative to do whatever is possible to avoid mamzerut. Halakha ideally represents a balance between intellectual clear headedness based on foundational principles and emotional responsiveness to each person and each circumstance. The best psak achieves this objective.  

Second, I think the difference of opinion about whether Partnership Minyanim are consistent with an honest and rigorous reading of halakha is one that transcends the interpretation of any single or group of sources and responsa. I read Rabbi Sperber’s work as a legitimate validation of the practice of Partnership Minyanim and opponents of Partnership Minyanim reject his opinion. Perhaps, supporters of Partnership need to press the case more articulately and frame the case in a more compelling manner. But this will not eliminate the conflict.  People can and do argue about the nuance of legal opinions in every society and halakha is no different. I propose that there is a larger divergence in the approach used to read sources – static and timeless versus dynamic and contextual. Contextualizing the law does not by its nature render the decision Conservative but is just as much a part of Orthodox jurisprudence. This is not unique to Jewish law and plays out in current arguments about the US Constitution, between those who favor interpretation based on original intent of the framers versus those who favor its application as a “living” document. Suffice it say that, again, I think the situation regarding the halakha is complicated. On occasion, the law is relatively fixed and unyielding. But there is ample documentation of rabbis who, in the face of opposition to change of any kind, have addressed divisive issues in innovative ways. This includes the permissibility of economic interactions with Christians and the heter mechira at the time of the early resettlement of Palestine in the late 19^th century. There will be those like Rabbi Sperber who will view the desire for Partnership Minyanim as an authentic religious goal and strive to create a space within the halakha for it. In contrast, there will there be others condemn it as “chadash.”

But that brings me to my third point. I am struck by the overwhelming demand for uniformity of practice that is required by those who oppose Partnership Minyanim and who consider supporters of Partnership Minyanim to fall outside the pale of Orthodoxy. Take a different example. I suspect there is quite a divergence in practice on the second day of Yom Tov among Americans who go to Israel for holidays. Some do not observe the second day at all, some do not observe the second half of day, some distinguish between public and private activity, some are lenient with positive versus negative commandments, and on and on. Ignoring whether they are adhering to the position of their local rabbi or an available source from the Web that supports their preference, I am unaware of anyone describing any of these patterns of observance as un-Orthodox or asserting that they threaten the fabric of Orthodoxy. Is it unreasonable to ask for the same level of tolerance, and I use that word explicitly, towards those who attend Partnership Minyanim?  

Finally, with regard to the view of women and men that would prohibit participation in Partnership Minyanim, I think it is worth stating clearly that there are laws that have provoked profound moral debate over the millennia. The command to annihilate Amalek is one. In 1904, Rabbi Avraham HaCohen Kook responded to a question about the status of black people (Letter #89). He asserted that, in fact, maintaining blacks in a state of servitude is for their betterment because that condition is their essential nature and is hard wired into things. The Rav taught that the status of women is cosmically fixed and determined. I will simply say that these are hard positions for some modern people to accept and that failure to embrace them does not disqualify someone as an Orthodox Jew in 2013. 

In closing, as a doctor, I realize that medicine and religion are two very different activities. But, there is much that one can teach the other. In this age of blogs, social networks, and instant communication, there is much available information and people feel empowered to make decisions for themselves. Specialists in all fields may bemoan this development. Doctors are no different and many dread the patient who comes to a visit armed with ammunition from the Internet. But, in medicine, this has lead to the realization that doctors are not the end all and be all in health care. There is a growing recognition that patients’ experience of illness is a critical component in the evaluation and treatment of disease. Failure to acknowledge the patient’s perspective can cause even the best laid medical plans to fail. Why should this be? Doctors spend many years learning their craft and why wouldn’t patients simply follow the advice and prescriptions of doctors? The obvious answer is that every patient comes with a story and their disease unfolds over time in a rich context of family, friends, community and work. The wise doctor knows he/she better pay attention for the patient to have the best chance of getting better. I would ask Rabbis to listen to congregants, whatever minyan they go to.

Chaim Trachtman

I am deeply, deeply saddened to hear of the death of my friend, Rabbi Dr. David Hartman. This comes on the heels of the loss of the great Jewish legal scholar, Dr. Menachem Elon. While Dr. Elon and Rabbi Hartman made different contributions to Am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael, for me, as part of the Yeshivat Chovevei Torah (YCT) and Yeshivat Maharat families, they had a common point – their unconditional support for our vision, our programs and our institutions.

Modern Orthodox rabbinic training had for years been in the sole domain of one institution. When Chovevei started, indeed, several years before it started, there was a harsh reactionary pushback. YCT was not always YCT. It actually began as the Meorot Fellowship, a once a week study group on issues confronting Modern Orthodoxy. Once the Jewish world heard about Meorot, it didn’t take long for it to be declared off limits by some rabbis. There were several rabbis and even some students who told me they agreed with the philosophy and would like to be involved, but could not because of this ruling.

And then I was in touch with Dr. Menachem Elon. I came to know Dr. Elon after he dealt with the Women at the Wall issue as an Israeli Supreme Court Justice. He was, after all, a master of mishpat ivri, and hence most suitable to write that decision. In the course of that ruling he contrasted the arguments for women’s prayer groups with the psak of several Roshei Yeshiva who prohibited such services. In the end, Dr. Elon’s decision was extremely favorable to women’s prayer groups. He was a man who was not afraid to speak truth to power.

I, therefore, in those early years, turned to Dr. Elon for advice. His reaction was quick and clear, “if I could be of any help, please let me know.” And he was as he began his annual teaching for the Meorot Fellowship program. He was one of the highlights of the year, giving us the credibility we sorely needed.

In time, I came to know some of Dr. Elon’s children. What struck me is how they had taken different paths in life, and yet, remained close. That does not happen in a vacuum. It comes, I believe, from parental influence. Dr. Elon embodied a tone reflective of the basic philosophy at Chovevei, that Am Yisrael, despite its differences, must learn to love each other like family. And the test of family is not how we love when agreeing, but when disagreeing.

And now, to Duvie. I first met Duvie when trying out as his replacement in his Montreal synagogue in 1971. I had already known that he was a unique man, but when I was walking in I saw a towering figure in sweatpants on a pre-Shabbat jog. It was Rabbi Hartman with his engaging smile and glowing eyes wishing me well. I felt then that our kesher (connection) would be long and strong.

Over the years, I spoke to Duvie about the larger issues facing Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael, Religious Zionism, Orthodoxy, Modern Orthodoxy, Open Orthodoxy, and of course, Chovevei and Yeshivat Maharat. The constant in our conversation was Duvie’s passionate spirit as a source of encouragement. “Don’t let them get you down” he’d say, “just look forward. The Chovevei guys are the best – they shine at our Institute.” He inscribed one of his books to me with sentiments I will always cherish – in honor of the students of Chovevei and Yeshivat Maharat who are changing the future of Modern Orthodoxy.

When Duvie first became a rabbi in Montreal and especially after he began the Hartman Institute, he was, in many ways, alone. He brought challenges to the fore that were not previously discussed openly in Orthodox circles. He knew that a Torah Institute whose foundations were faith, integrity and open inquiry would be attractive not only to Jews of other denominations and the unaffiliated, but to the Modern Orthodox world as well. As it evolved he was the subject of intense criticism. But he always stood strong. That was Duvie – he was not afraid to stand up for what was right – and he did that for us the YCT and Yeshivat Maharat community.

When the Rabba and Maharat controversy broke out, Duvie was there as well. Sometimes the criticism during that time was more personal than ideological. Duvie was not only an ideological brother, but a friend who, in this extremely difficult time, was there.

There were times when as President of Chovevei, I thought, why not let it go. The criticism was too piercing, it kept me up at night. The toll on my children and wife was too heavy. But we did not give up because of the incredible support along the way from people like Dr. Elon and Rav Duvie who stood with us.

I know that Dr. Elon and Rabbi Dr. David Hartman’s accomplishments go well beyond Chovevei and Maharat. But I pray that they know that they have touched our lives as well. To them, the Chovevei and Maharat communities – and the tens, even hundreds of thousands of people whom the lights of these communities have inspired and will inspire – are forever grateful.

Avi Weiss is the senior rabbi of the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale. He is the founder of Yeshivat Chovevei Torah and Yeshivat Maharat.

A guest post courtesy of the JTA-  http://www.jta.org

OPINION(JTA) — Over the past few days, we find ourselves grappling with the concept of silence in two contrasting ways. First, a silence of indifference, acquiescence and complicity, and second, a silence of strength, principle and memory.

In the case of the Penn State tragedy, Coach Joe Paterno and others committed the sin of silence. Their silence of indifference, acquiescence and complicity led to the perpetuation of a vicious and destructive pattern of behavior that destroyed the lives of many young boys.

But somehow lost in the headlines this week is the grappling with the need for the silence of strength, principle and memory.

As we look toward the Summer Olympics, the families of the 11 Israeli athletes and coaches slain in the 1972 Munich Olympics have asked for a moment of silence in London. What a moment of unity it would be to express the infinite value of human life and abhorrence of terrorists who target the innocent and mercilessly maim and murder in, of all places, the Olympic Village.

But sadly, the more we grapple with the unfathomable resistance to this proposal, the more it is feeling like the silence of indifference, acquiescence and complicity. It is because we fear that many of the countries represented do not share the belief that targeting innocents, in this case Israelis, should be met with strength. For them, there are causes that justify terrorism.

This type of silence is nothing new. It is the silence of those who say nothing as terrorists are venerated as honorable martyrs all over the world — in Tokyo, Moscow, London, Madrid, Tel Aviv and New York. Until the world recognizes that there is no such thing as good terrorists and bad terrorists — that nothing, nothing justifies focused attacks against innocents — terrorism will thrive.

Let it be said clearly: Rejecting the moment of silence at the 2012 Olympics sends the message that you can kill and massacre and the world will go on as usual. Responding to the request for the moment of silence with silence itself is unacceptable. It is legitimizing the horror.

Even if the International Olympic Committee rejects the request, athletes of good will should not. The games are not about the IOC and its members, whose names few people know. It’s about the athletes, the role models, who set the example.

There have been moments in the Olympics that transcended athletics. Some were glorious, like when Tommie Smith and John Carlos in the ’68 Olympics raised their clenched fists in solidarity against the discrimination of blacks. Some were infamous, like when two Jews, Marty Glickman and Sam Stoller, were removed under Nazi pressure from the American 400-meter relay team in the ’36 Olympics. What will happen in London this year has the potential to be one of those moments when athletes will be judged not by athletic prowess but by ethical integrity and the courage to stand up for what is right.

Imagine, just imagine, if during the Games, LeBron James and Michael Phelps and the whole American team would declare their own moment of silence of strength, principle and memory for the Israeli 11. Others would follow and the world would hear clearly that terrorism is beyond the pale.

In so many ways, sports is associated with a call to make more noise and get louder. But in other ways it teaches the challenge of silence.

Penn State has shown us that silence can reflect the greatest abuse of the power of sport. But there is hope. It’s up to these great Olympians to make the ultimate dunk, the ultimate record-setting race, to show that athletes can be true examples of a different type of silence — a silence of strength, principle and memory — one that can raise a voice of moral conscience.

To paraphrase the Book of Ethics, “In the place where is there is no person, stand up and be a person.”

(Rabbi Avi Weiss is the senior rabbi of the Hebrew Institute of Riverdale and founder of YCT Rabbinical School, both in New York. Rabbi Aaron Frank is the principal of the Beth Tfiloh Dahan Community High School in Baltimore.)

Shimon Peres Hits a Home Run

My walk in Jerusalem trying to hug every Jew and Arab set the tone for a walk the next morning with my friends from the mission – the Christians because the Muslims went again to Al-Aqtsa, problem free.  But before that, I met up with the group for a 6:00 PM appointment with President Shimon Peres.  People were excited and I was excited.  It’s always exciting to meet the President of Israel – probably any country – but Shimon Peres has just been around so long and near the center of action in the Jewish state from its beginning that there is something historic about a visit with him.  The Indonesians were excited, and when we sat in a small room at Beit Hanasi, at the Presidential Palace, a room that barely fit our delegation of 24, there was a silence I had never seen in the group.  Something special.  

Peres came in, went around and shook everyone’s hands, and bonded with the leading Indonesian Muslim in our group because his mentor, the former president of Indonesia was a founding member of the Shimon Peres Institute.  Right away, then, President Peres was a bridge from the country with the largest Muslim population in the world, a country that had no relations with Israel, to the Jewish state where our group of Indonesians, Muslims, Christians and Jews was visiting.  It felt historic.  Then Shimon Peres spoke in such a dignified and wise way.  Like many other people – maybe the majority of Israelis – I have never really agreed with most of Shimon Peres’s policy ideas, and here, too, I had my disagreements (maybe I agree with Fayyad more! Oy!), even with key elements of what he was talking about.  But Peres wins you over, and we all fell in love and admiration with this 89 year old man who was sharp, witty – in a dry way – engaging and so stately.  I think he has gotten taller over the years!  I was captivated, but I was still able to eat the date and the chocolate bar that each of us got, as well as drink the coffee from the State of Israel little coffee cups that were served.

Shimon Peres, I think, was able to bring the group back to a feeling that Israel wants peace, wants to recognize the Palestinians, and is a democracy that is working hard to do the right thing.  The arguments and complaints against Israel hurled against the Foreign Ministry folks at lunch just seemed to roll away.  Peres was so chivalrous: he called upon a woman with a question even though the moderator wanted more of a macher to ask the question – so dignified and sensitive.  

At the end of the session I had my big moment:  Parents of one of my best and dearest friends had given me Peres’s book, The New Middle East, right after Oslo – almost 20 years ago.  And Rachel and I had still kept it on our shelf in the living room – I had actually read it.  It was a bit of fantasy about cooperation and peace in the Middle East, but again, Peres might have been wrong about the details, but here was a man with vision.  I remembered the book as soon as I saw Peres would be on the itinerary – I would bring the book with me to Israel and have him sign it!!  Believe it or not, I actually got the book to Israel and, after having forgot it initially, remembered to bring it to our meeting with President Peres.  So right after his talk – he gave us a lot of time, nearly an hour – I went right up to him and asked him to sign his book.  He was still a believer in the New Middle East, and all of there, after his speech, were also believers.  I gave him a pen, which I had gotten from the hotel in Ramallah (he didn’t know that), and he signed: With My Best Wishes, Shimon Peres.  So there you have it: the man wrote about the New Middle East, had signed on it, and by meeting with our group was continuing to work on it after all these years of some ups but mostly downs.  One day, perhaps in ways he could not imagine, Shimon Peres’s vision will come true.  With God’s help – and he did speak to us about his belief in God.

Of course after our inspired meeting with Shimon Peres, when we were all floating, we had another session with an amazing Bedouin woman doing incredible things for women’s empowerment in the Bedouin community.  There was also an amazing group Save a Child’s Heart, which works to train cardiologists all over the world – including in Palestinian and Arab doctors.  And Naomi Chazan of the New Israel Fund.  But what could have been an inspiring session turned into a kvetching session: One of our group said: It’s great that Israel does so much good saving lives abroad, but why does it discriminate against its Arab population and the Palestinians.  That member of our group went on to read an article from Haaretz about Arab families in a dispute with the local school district so the kids have to walk miles to get to school.  And that wonderful Indonesian quoted a Hadith (Muslim tradition) that Muhammad cared for everyone, even the cats.  It really got me so frustrated!  Look at all the Muhammadan countries and see if they care about anyone in their country – citizens, minorities, guest workers, Palestinians – as good as Israel.  

So this trip was complicated: It did not hide the struggles of Israel to build a just and moral state.  But on the other hand, I don’t think our group really gets that Israel was built pretty much from scratch in a mortal, life of death, battle against every Arab state and Arabs within the country – except for the Arabs of Abu Gosh who were loyal to the new Jewish state. Yet, as I would come to find out, despite not really getting a lot of Israel, people – even the self described Fundamentalist Indonesian Muslim in our group – really did get that Israel was a democracy and was sincerely trying to do the right thing.  That was perhaps the biggest lesson here: The truth comes out, and despite members of our delegation being detained at the border with Jordan, and one of them not being let in, and the Muslims having to run out of al-Aqsa when Israeli soldiers had to come in, and despite the searing criticism of Israel found in Israeli newspapers – despite it all, people came to love Israel and to respect this amazing country.  It will make a big difference when they go back to Indonesia, and I think something important was started here.

The next morning, Tuesday morning a group of us headed for Damascus gate, the shuk, the Via Delarosa, the Kotel and back through the shuk to the hotel.  The weather again was gorgeous – it felt warm – and everyone was friendly.  I pointed out that Jews unfortunately do not go beyond Jaffa gate to walk down to Damascus gate even though the area is so beautiful.  The light rail trains move up and down, and their ultra modern look and sound adds a wonderful feel to the Old City, the city not only of the past but of the future as well.  The tracks are grassy, and it give the feel of walking in a garden even though we were walking on a sidewalk along the walls.  We met up with a group of teens and I says “Sabah el Cheir” (good morning in Arabic) and we got into a conversation with them, me, the rabbi in a kippa, introducing these Arabs – Palestinians probably – to my friends the Indonesians.  And we took pictures – pictures are as important to Indonesians as they are to Japanese… and to the Tesslers (Rachel’s family).

Just an amazing feeling of connecting and being together in Jerusalem and the potential for Jews and Israelis and Arabs and Palestinians to connect.  OK.  This was not dealing with terrorism, or Hamas’s rockets terrorizing Beer Sheva, or Hizbollah terrorizing the north, etc.  But it did show our group that the younger generation is willing to engage – even more than their parents – and is not bitter and angry, but positive and hopeful.  That was really the number one lesson that I think our Indonesian friends will take home.  And that is incredible – it helps them think positively about Israel, rather than carrying negative, hateful feelings.  If young Palestinians are not hateful, neither should Muslims around the world be.  The hateful speech of the Jordanian minister was totally out of place and nullified.

Perhaps Hashem got directly involved in that the Kotel was the most pleasant, calm place for all of us.  Rev. Chloe, of the Episcopal church in New York, said how peaceful and inspiring the Kotel was for her as she spent 15 minutes on her own in the women’s section.  And in the men’s section, not only were there no schneurers to bother my Indonesian friends, but adorable little 6 year olds from a nearby Yeshiva, who were in the middle of davening, were willing to pose and smile for pictures with the Indonesians.  I took so many pictures.  It was really like we were in one big play, and everyone was told to act happy and friendly.  Was it all a show in Ramallah and the Kotel?  I actually don’t think so.  But it was surreal – like Fantasy Island.  We sang Ma Tovu, and the Wall really felt holy.  And there are new, cloth kippot!  No longer those card board kippot.  There is dignity at the kotel.  Wow!  Things have changed – at least that morning.

On the way to the kotel, going through the shul that starts from Damascus gate, we passed by the Christian landmark of the Way of the Cross, the Via Delarosa.  And right at the fifth station (or maybe the 8th station) there was a large delegation Christian leaders, and our Episcopalian in the group, Rev. Chloe, met and Indian Orthodox priest who had attended the General Theological Seminary in New York – where Chloe had studied – and had studied with the same patristics (study of the Patriarchal church) teacher.  What a Jerusalem moment!  It was like meeting old friends on Ben Yehuda or Emek Refaim – but this was the Christian version, at the Via Delarosa!  What a city!

The rest of the day continued with this dreamlike quality.  Rabbi Sid Schwarz put a lot of work into the trip, but he could not have imagined the incredible warm, sunny weather that made Neve Shalom, the model community of Jews, Christians and Muslims, so stunning.  It is a magnificent location on a hill overlooking Latrun – and an impressive monastery – and with views of the high rises of Modiin in the background.  I walked along the paths in this charming town with my friend Nogrohu, who is the leader of the Unitarian church in Indonesia.  Indonesians are old school: they take your hand and walk with you, so we were walking arm in arm through this Garden of Peace – with the wind rustling every leaf, the sun shining and everything looking possible. The sound of peace.  This was Israel.  

Neve Shalom (Walat AsSalam) is 40 years old and well thought out.  They discussed how they have rejected the vaunted Harvard ideas about negotiation – it doesn’t work for them.  But with their own systems, they have built mixed Arab-Jewish schools which educate hundreds of students.  I pushed them on how they celebrate Israel Independence Day and Naqba Day – one Palestinian narrative of what happened to them with the creation of Israel – and at first they shied away from talking about it.  When we got to the actual school building they opened up with a fascinating story of how these two holidays are celebrated and commemorated: At first, the teacher decided to have one wall for Yom Ha’atzmaut and another wall for Yaum anNaqba.  But the students complained and demanded that the narratives be mixed on the same walls.  I take that as a metaphor – divorce is not the solution; the solution is bringing these incredible peoples – my own, the Jews, and the one I have connected to on this trip, the Palestinians – together to learn from each other, to laugh together, to share their passions with one another.

From Neve Shalom to Tel Aviv.  We had an incredible session with The Family Circle/Bereaved Families Group.  A mother of a Jewish soldier killed by a sniper; a brother of a Palestinian killed in a scuffle at a check point.  The ability of these people to transform bitterness to a desire for peace and positive thinking is incredible.  The mother read us a poem she wrote on the day her son’s killer was to be released – along with hundreds of others – in the Gilad Shalit exchange; the brother talked about his experience of years in jail – he was a Palestinian terrorist – which led him to promote non-violent resistance.  Ali, the brother, said to the Jews in our group, “Your fear is our greatest enemy.” Meaning, if Palestinians want to succeed in their goals they are going to have to prove to Israelis that they don’t need to fear them.  That will not be – and should not be – easy after the two Intifadas which killed over a thousand Israeli civilians – and all the wars the Arabs have waged against the Jewish state.  But at least he tells the truth to his own people – that causing less fear, not more, is the way to resolving the issues.  From what I saw on this trip, and a previous Encounter trip to Bethlehem, the more contact Jews and Israelis have with Palestinians, in a peaceful, normal setting, the more that fear will dissipate – and that will be a good thing, as long as Israel remains vigilant and focused on her own needs.

The session took place in the Dan Tel Aviv, in a room that overlooked the waves of the Mediterranean.  Just stunning.  At the end of the session, we had a ten minute break.  I headed for the beach with our American Indonesian interpreter.  Just across HaYarkon street.  Awesome.  I took off my shoes and socks and waded into the water – still in my suit.  It felt wonderful – not even so cold.  Had I taken my bathing suit I would have gone for a swim.  What a blessed country is Israel, our holy land, the Jewish state.  More than anything I want people from all over the world to feel its glory.  This mission was a start. For dinner we went to a super trendy restaurant in the Old Train Station which is like a Navy Pier or a Quincy Market (Boston) which has been restored and filled with restaurants and bars and shops, with music coming out of a big dancing tent.  Tel Aviv is a bit too trendy for me – I could never dress up to speed.  I’m more like the guy wearing the suit at the beach.  But the energy of a cutting edge city in this ancient land still feels good.

At the airport to head back to the States, with our entire mission, the Foreign Ministry sent a representative to help smooth our going through security.  Still there was a bit of a “balagan” (convusion)- but at least the security people apologized.  And still they opened up all the suitcases of the Muslims, filled with Qur’ans and stuff we got from Indonesia.  But everyone was polite, and the Foreign Ministry really tried and did a pretty good job of getting us through.

And now off to Washington for meetings with the State Dept, White House and Congress.    

As I am on the plane, I yearn, of course, to return to Israel, but also to connect with all the people that live in our Holy Land: Palestinians, Jews, Christians, Muslims – everyone who appreciates God’s gift to the world.

Shalom al Yisrael

Hanan Ashrawi is still a player after all these years.  She is the only woman on the Fatah executive,  and she runs a Palestinian women’s organization as well.  Now, I don’t know if that organization is a front for something, but part of the time she is at PLO HQ, and part of the time with her organization.  I guess it was our luck that when we visited her, she was at PLO Headquarters.  We all know the terrorism, murder and horrors, both against the Jewish people and Israel and against their own Palestinian people, that went on from PLO headquarters in various countries.  At the same time, it was kind of a strange, surreal feeling standing at the entrance of glassy, brand spankin’ new PLO HQ high rise in Ramallah, with my big white kippa, taking pictures with my Indonesian friends.  The guards were actually pretty nice – they smile more than Israeli guards, but less than Indonesian guards.  Still, I felt totally comfortable – and welcomed – as a Jew and a rabbi at the PLO building.  I do think times have changed – of course that doesn’t mean that peace has broken out.

And actually, Hanan Ashrawi has not changed at all.  The 24 of us were ushered into a room with water bottles next to each of us – that was standard for all the meetings, except for with Prime Minister Fayyad we got also an extra orange juice, and some places gave us sweets as well.  I shook her had when I came in, and the truth is is that she really looks much better in person than on the camera.  She looks younger in person as well – even younger than I remember her looking in the 90‘s when she was CNN and Nightline every evening.  

Behind Hanan Ashrawi was the PLO flag, which I guess was not changed since a few decades ago: it still had the entire picture of Israel as Palestine.  And if front of us we were given some PLO letterhead stationary with the entire State of Israel as … Palestine.  I was going to ask her about this, but really, the thing that has changed the least is that Hanan Ashrawi is still saying the same lines she has said even since the 70’s when she began secret negotiations – according to her – with the Israelis as a representative of the  PLO.  Palestinians, according to her, have done all the compromise and all the giving.  The Two State Solution – which she knows is what everybody in the room (except for me) is desperate for, is rapidly running out of time, according to her, and it is all Israel’s fault.  Well, it’s also the fault of America and the Republicans.  Settlements, siege of Gaza, Price Tag people (who are, indeed an issue, but not the real reason for peace not happening), etc. etc. Palestinians have agreed to 22% of the land they really should have, and they are the victims and Israel is the Occupier, which wants to have the Jordan valley as well even if they give the Palestinians a little bit of land.  To me it was clear that if you fast-forward ten years, and Israel would give the Palestinians land, she will be saying the same thing – siege, Jordan valley, checkpoints, Jerusalem, return of refugees, etc. etc.  

Of course, she is smart and always has an answer that it is Israel’s fault.  My friend the Imam from Washington, Yahya Hendi, who had been denied entering Israel (from Jordan), but met us in Ramallah, asked Hanan Ashrawi: Isn’t it important for Palestinians to look at themselves for what they could do to improve things or help the process – he used the old Zionist term of “self-emancipation”?  Earlier, Rabbi Melchior had brilliantly done this and said that it is so easy to blame others, but you have to start by looking at yourself – and Peres said the same thing.  But Hanan Ashrawi said No!  The Palestinians are the victims here, and there is nothing they can or should be doing different.  All Israel.  But at the same time, “I don’t like the mentality of the victim…”  So she has it both ways…  But she does it so well!  

Some of the Christians in the group realized that her words were a bit of a snow job when she said about Hamas that they do accept a Two State solution, and that they have been amazingly flexible, and that “It’s going to take time for Hamas to get there…”  Her view was that having one side of the government that perhaps wants to destroy Israel: “We should have a right to pluralism… for people to disagree…”

OK.  That’s the picture. 

The one interesting part of the meeting was that she spoke about women in government in the Palestinian Authority – 25% of the ministers are women, there are 22 women judges, the mayor and governor of Ramalla is a woman – interesting.  She seems like on this issue she may be really doing some good, and she has some insight.  “Women go into civil society and good governance, but not into politics…” It was insightful, but interesting that there is that wall between good governance and the government itself.  She also said that women should control security, not men.  I did not see any women Palestinian guards or police.  But from the Israeli side, anecdotally on our trip, the women guards saved the day several times as far as civility and relating to our group.

Ashrawi: “We cannot use the Occupation as an excuse for all our sins.”  But she used it as an excuse to bash Israel and for the lack of peace.

So we left, with a picture, and smiles, but, frankly, disappointed that nothing had changed.

But then, we got in the bus and headed for the Palestinian governmental building to meet Prime Minister Salam Fayyad.  Again, Guards around Fayyid’s office were very polite – even friendly. Very fancy uniforms. 

I rarely use capitals in email, but FAYYAD!  I’m mamash choked up by who he is and what he’s saying. So refreshing. He is modest, he is honest, he is thoughtful, he says things contrary to his interest if they are true, and contrary to the common wisdom. He is self defacing and has a diminutive sense of humor. I had never met him, and I didn’t even know what he looked like.  He came into a very fancy room – with really nice leather chairs – and in a humble and even shlumped-over way, went around shaking our hands.  We felt the modesty that the Indonesian foreign minister exuded – and that is a high standard.  He seems more of an introvert.  He started by thanking us for being there and saying he was looking for advice from us, “We can certainly use it!”

Fayyad is the first leader I have heard who actually said not to panic that time is running out, that actually now is the time to push off the “time envelope” and that conditions are not right for an effective resumption of discussions. He was taking responsibility for not resuming peace talks, but rather than blame the Israelis, he laid out many factors in the world that would logically lead him to not wanted to have major negotiations at this time.  That is fine!  He said that the US attitude is that settlements (I use the term he used; I prefer the term “communities”) are illegal – or at least an obstacle to peace.”  Now that impressed me: he could have just left it at illegal, but he didn’t.  He wants to be honest that different American administrations have different attitudes.  He was just so logical – it was such a mechaya!  Of course the Palestinians would not want to sit down now and negotiate: American elections, Arab spring is diverting Europe’s attention, the European debt crisis, a right wing government in Israel where Netanyahu cannot get anything through.  Yes, he is the leader of the Palestinian government so he is pushing their side.  But he does so honestly, and it makes sense.  As Margaret Thatcher said of Gorbachev: This is a man we can do business with.

He is against the pre-occupation of getting the negotiating process going.  What that says to Israel is that they, too, should not be jumping in hoops to ensure the Palestinians come to the table.  

Fayyad said basically, let’s focus on the issues we can deal with, on issues that are important to Palestinians but that Israel – and the right or left wing in Israel – doesn’t really care about.  He talked about maintenance issues, security issues, issues that Israel can change on without it hitting the newspapers in Israel.  Oy!  This is such a smart man!  He didn’t even mention Jerusalem.  He didn’t obsess about settlements. He admitted that when Israel came in to the towns in Spring 2002 to restore security (at the hight of the Second Intifada), internal Palestinian security and control was bad.  Now, he says, things are much improved.  And, the fact that I could would around so comfortable with my kippa in Ramallah says that things are under tight control.  Importantly, he said that if you wanted to give the Palestinians hope, give them elections!  Now that didn’t work so well in Gaza, but at least he is taking internal responsibility for Palestinian problems.  

I asked a question about free markets, and he embraced it, and applauded the Chicago school of economics, and talked about developing the Palestinian pharmaceutical industry.  “One of my better days…” was when they initiated exports of a drug to Germany.  This is a man that is really taking Netanyahu’s idea of building up the economy first, before statehood, seriously.  Fayyad, said, and I quote, “We are not a country yet.”  I just cannot go on to much about this man.  When we were taking photos I said that it says a lot about the Palestinians that they have a Prime Minister like this.  It does.  They may have a lot of problems – they may still want to destroy all of the Jewish state – but Salam Fayyad cannot be ignored.  I was so excited that I whipped off an email to one of our more famous members who undoubtedly spent a lot of time with Fayyad and he agreed: a very good man.

OK.  I think you get the picture.  Worth going to Ramallah to meet Fayyad.

We got back on the bus, and I could not bring myself to go see Arafat’s tomb, which is right in front of Abbas’s palace like building. I did not want to accord him any honor. He died with blood on his hands – Jewish and Palestinian. Another rabbi stayed in the bus with me. 

And then it was off to the only Five Star hotel in Ramallah – though the charming, bustling city has other hotels and deserves more Five Star ones – Hotel Movenpick (Swiss).  We got an unbelievable welcome. Hot towels. Drinks. Quick service to get our rooms. Free wifi in room. Unbelievable. Smiles and attention from a huge staff who smiled throughout our stay.  I loved this hotel!

After freshening up, we headed for three Palestinian homes to meet the folks and hear their stories.  Our host, Najah and his wife and six kids.  Najah was a professor at Beir Zeit University.  And he brought in his 80 year old father and his mother, with her head covered.  She looked just like a Russian Babushka.  The grandfather looked like an old Arab Sheikh, and a prominent picture in the room had him shaking hands with a smiling Yassir Arafat.  This family had had Jews over before, and the grandparents, originally from Hebron, told stories about life in Hebron.  The family would regularly borrow money from a wealthier Jewish family which refused to take any interest.  But they were honest about the 1929 massacre, and that the Jews and Christians were squeezed out of Hebron, and that these were indigenous Jews who had lived there for hundreds of years.  In fact, they talked of Jews only being allowed to go to the seventh step near the Cave of the Patriarchs; not allowed to go in – that was only for Muslims.  But I don’t think the Muslims in our party got that.  I don’t think there is any realizations even in the modern, friendly Muslim community to the discrimination that Islam historically had against Jews.  These Palestinians know about that, and were honest about it. In fact the mentioned that there remained three formerly Jewish families in Hevron who converted to Islam so as not to be killed. 

The daughter Reem, studying at Beir Zeit: nothing against Jews, just Israel – people coming from abroad calling us terrorists… On the one hand, there is a basic anti-Israel attitude clearly embedded in the Beir Zeit student population – and probably almost all kids – but on the other hand, it was claer to me that this was not a well-developed angry and bitter feeling.  The kids were good natured, happy kids, living relatively normal lives.  But what impressed the Muslims in the group was that the kids had not been to Jerusalem for 10 years.  And it’s true that they would need a permit to get in, but it wasn’t clear how desperate they were to get into Jerusalem.  In any event, the whole family was good natured. The kids – ages 14 – 20  did not at all obsess on their anger towards Israel. In fact, their father,  Najah, complained that people today were just interested in cars and electronics and didn’t care about politics and fighting for the cause. 

They regaled us with a great story of Najah’s brother, a Fatah heavy who got into trouble with Arafat and Warren Christopher for, nebech, threatening a Christian man who married the woman the brother wanted to marry… He was jailed and exiled to Canada, but now he is once again buddies with the Fatah and living again in Ramallah. 

Our host family’s wife is name Rafika – Rebecca – and we discussed that it was like my Rachel’s name which in Hebrew Rivkah Leah!

We went back to the hotel, spending the night in Ramallah, and happy to do so.

A guard at the checkpoint the next morning was surprised I had been to Ramallah with a kippa.  But it was actually hard to leave Ramallah: It is important not to be lulled into a false romance for this warm, friendly welcoming people, who, as a people, are not yet comforable with the existence of a Jewish state, the state of my people.  But whether it was the hotel or the feel of the city and the people we met, it was hard to leave! We crossed the Qalandia checkpoint where I did some schmoozing with the woman guard to get us through, and Pisgat Zeev suddenly appeared – 5 minutes from Ramallah. Pisgat Zev and the Arab neighborhodd Beit Chanina (Arab) share a mall (Kanyon Hapisgah). 

Now, we are back in Jerusalem.  We had lunch with the foreign ministry which did a yeoman’s job of defending Israel.  Yes, soldiers had to go into the Al-Aqtza area, and even ask people to leave; but it was because rioters were throwing lethal stones on the Jewish worshippers at the Kotel below (this is a century’s old practice, unfortunately).  I just don’t think many in our group understand what Israel is facing.  But the Foreign Ministry was good.

The restaurant, Gabriel’s, made a great steak, and it was located in a charming new, outdoor mall on Shimon Ben Shettach just off of Shlomzion hamalka at Ben Sira.  Right near the house where Zev Jabotinsky lived when he was allowed into Palestine in the 20’s.  I hope and believe Jabotinsky would be OK with making peace with people – Muslims, Christians – who dwell in the Jewish state.  Once Israel is strong, and remains strong, that is when Jabotinsky believed it was time for partnership and cooperations with the Arab population in the Jewish state.  I agree!

After the lunch meeting I had to get out… Not only to see Jerusalem, but I felt this energy come over me to connect. Honestly, I felt like I wanted to walk up to every Jew and Palestinian and give them a big hug! Crazy!  I took a walk along the grassy train tracks on this beautiful sunny warm late winter day when Jerusalem was shinier than ever. Just a stunning walk down from Jaffa gate and city hall to Damascus gate into the shuk, saying hi to people and heading for the Kotel and beyond…

Tomorrow, President Shimon Peres.  Today we head for the kotel with the group.

Until then, from a sparkling Jerusalem,

Shalom al Yisrael

Woke up early and had a certain energy – I really think that Jerusalem, Shabbat and being with this diverse group gave me this high to connect with those around me and basically spread Jewish and Zionist love. 

We hopped in the bus, and it took us about twenty minutes in rush hour traffic  to get to the outskirts of Ramallah and transfer through the Qalandia checkpoint – though there was a lot of traffic around that checkpoint, in both directions.

Ramallah is a prosperous and booming!  There are incredible high rises going up when you come in – dozens of new buildings. It is a very pretty city, chariming – very different than Amman which was not uplifting or inspiring.  Here there are hills and vistas, old and new buildings. Built on hills like Jerusalem, but in some ways has even better green space with trees in between low rises and houses. 

The northern outskirts of Ramallah, where we were going, driving through Bir Zeit, are really beautiful – hills, apartment buildings, olive groves, sweeping roads.    Beautiful neighborhoods nestled in the Judean Hills.  The housing is old fashioned – some of it Ottoman, no doubt – and even the new apartment buildings work with the surrounding scenery.  Unfortunately, there is garbage all over, so it is certainly not pristine, but it is pleasant and uplifting to drive around.

Occasionally we see Palestinian police in smart blue and bright green uniforms and blue cars.  We pass Abu Gash another charming Arab town nestled on a hilltop till we get to our first destination, Jiffna, which is in the valley, with horses roaming in green fields – really a bucolic, countryside feel, relaxed – frozen in time almost.  Reminded me of Oxfordshire or Yorkshire, especially with a gentle fog that was descending in the morning.

My iPhone reads as its carrier: Jawwal Palestine… We are not in Jerusalme… A bit eerie, also strange to have BZU – Beir Zeit University – on my list of wifi networks. But it’s locked…

We went to a Catholic church for Sunday prayers, and because I don’t go into church sanctuaries, I stood in the back, near the door, under the entranceway.  So I became kind of the “rabbi greeter” to everyone coming late through the back door…  There aren’t many Christians anymore – a few percentage of the Arab population in this area, even though Ramalla was originally a Christian city.  It is a big issue that honest Palestinians recognize – why have all the Christians left?  They of course to not say it is because they have been intimidated…

It was a typical Arabic Sunday morning service. The Priest, certainly knowing we were visiting on a piece mission said: “We can all live together…”  I was told later that it was a classic Catholic service, just in the vernacular – Arabic.

I saw a kid with a sippy cup, like shul…

There was a small, charming choir, and the acoustics and singing were great.  Then the spice came – I was sneezing already from the intense “shuk like” spicy smell. I think because it was not the smells I usually enjoy and the fact that I was coughing,  sneezing and my eyes were tearing helped with any questions of getting “hana’ah – pleasure” from a foreign religion. But the music was beautiful – with the organ and the mostly woman choir – led by a man and a male organ master. 

The traditional greeting which comes towards the end of a Christian services was – of course – in Arabic – Asalam aleikum.

Beethoven’s 9th was the tune for a hymn in Arabic – but I don’t know what the words were. Very powerful music – I aways tear up for it – even though I don’t know the meaning of the words in German or Arabic. 

Service ended with announcements – like shul!  And kiddush  after services – and them a responsive prayer – something like “let us pray”- and then a somber song – not a crazy Adon olam with kids on the bima…. I do miss home!

Everyone very extremely friendly and warm – men, women and even teens. That’s really the most pronounced part of this 24 stay in Ramallah – people are friendly and responsive.  I did not see them staring at my kippah at all, nor did I feel uncomfortable.  We all know that terrorist who have killed our brothers and sisters – and our Jewish children! – have come from these kind of places.  But it was easy to connect with all the people we met.  Kiddush was kiddush – with small cups of coffee and a bachlava which I didn’t eat – and people were happy to talk and smile and be polite and welcoming.

Everyone, even when telling their stories against the Israeli oppression, was very good natured. A man who married woman from Gaza and had trouble getting her into Ramallah spoke at length, telling his story – which ended with her finally getting permission for her and her brother to come to West Bank. 

“Security is the main issue, but…” talked of land confiscation and the fence. 

A lot of talk of not being able to travel to Jerusalem, or leave Bethlehem. The assistant priest talked about Good Friday last year when Passover, Easter,  and Eastern Easter all fell on same day. Muslims Salafies yelled and cursed the Christians. The Israeli security guard pushed the Patriarch – but the message was that the Patriarch said in both cases: we are not here to fight; we are here to pray. The lesson was that the Christians want to be a “Bridge for peace between Jews and Muslims”. 

Everyone at this church could not have been friendlier.Even the Kids and teenagers! It was like a monument to peace – like a Hollywood facade. But I think in many ways it is genuine – not to say that there aren’t crucial security concerns that our State of Israel has to contend with. 

We headed back south to Ramallah and the ride was beautiful – Beir Zeit, just north of Ramallah, is like the Tayelet – sharp slope of trees. Stunning scenery.  We passed the many coffee shop chain: Star and Bucks Coffee!!  Green logo and everything…

Next stop: PLO Headquarters and Hanan Ashrawi.  

Forgive me, but it’s time to daven and head back to Jerusalem, so I will update the rest of my Ramallah day – and an incredible encounter with Prime Minister Fayyad who is just off the charts, amazing, humble, brilliant, honest man – in the next status update as soon as possible.

Until then,

Shalom al Yisrael

It’s Sunday morning, and after a glorious Shabbat in Jerusalem, we are heading for Ramallah to meet our Palestinian “brothers”.