pre-'67?

Earlier this month, I celebrated a birthday. I was born just a month before the Six Day War, in 1967. I remember learning about the great victory this was for Israel: the nation, not yet 20 years after its establishment, had bolstered its security and laid to rest any doubts about its will and intent to survive, even if surrounded by hostile foes.

Forty-four years later, many of the same challenges to Israel and the region still exist. Over these ensuing decades, there have been continued ups and downs for the Jewish State - continued strife and additional wars, the strain of its sibling-like relationship with the U. S. (and all the love and baggage that goes with any such relationship), and especially the internal and ongoing challenge to live up to being a country that exemplifies Jewish values (including yet not limited to justice, righteousness, mercy, and pluralism - social, political AND religious) that should be applied to ALL the permanent residents within its borders.

Part of the historic controversy regarding Israel's place in the world has been brought out by President Obama's remarks just yesterday. In proposing Israel's "pre-1967 borders" as a guideline for resumption of talks with the Palestinians, Mr. Obama has raised concerns (rightly or wrongly) among people who note that no previous U.S. president had yet used that term.

As has been pointed out, the overall concept offered in the President's speech regarding a two-state solution with mutual respect and security doesn't differ much, if at all, from the generally accepted norm - yet again, it's not so much what you say, but rather how you say it (and more so, how it is heard).

Well, I guess the resolution of the Israel-Palestinian situation won't necessarily be found in this current year...yet with patience, trust, and the true desire to create a better world, perhaps in our lifetime...

my birthday wish

You say it's your birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah...

Well, it is my birthday, and I'm thankful for the hundreds of greetings sent my way, and for the beautiful sunshine out my window.

And, perhaps inspired (agitated?) by the wonderful experience I had earlier this week attending the Consultation on Conscience - the premiere social justice program on political advocacy conducted by the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism - I am hoping for something further on this birthday. Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for any gifts, cards, or even cake. Rather, I see this day - if it's to be a celebration of life - to be a chance to ask for something even more important; and that's to ask my family and friends, community members and acquaintances to make their voices heard in the ongoing struggle for social justice. Specifically on this occasion, I want us ALL to consider the importance of advocating to protect women's health care access and rights.

There's been a recent controversy about potential legislation that would de-fund Planned Parenthood - and basically strip this vital agency (and others) from providing the great range of health care services that it has offered, which have gone to enhance and maintain the lives of so many women - and especially so many who wouldn't be able to receive appropriate medical care and guidance elsewhere.

At the Consultation, we were fortunate to hear from Cecile Richards, president of Planned Parenthood Federation of America (PPFA). With grace, intelligence and eloquence, she demonstrated (once again) the positive and wide-ranging effect that Planned Parenthood has in our society, and how undermining its activities would jeopardize the ability for thousands of women to receive even the most basic levels of medical attention. And then we were treated to a presentation by Congresswoman Rosa DeLauro, of Connecticutt. She too expressed our great need to protect women's health care programs, for the good of our society and the world. Congresswoman DeLauro also showed how our reluctance (or inability) to do so is tied to some of the issues that face women around the world: from unchecked violence and subjugation to the attribution of second-class standing (which unfortunately still plagues our American culture in many ways as well).

I am indebted to these to strong, positive women for championing such an important cause on behalf of some 1/2 of our population. Of course, its not only women who are affected by these issues - for what involves some of us, ultimately reaches all of us.

So, back to my birthday for a moment. On this day, and every, I recognize how fortunate I am - If any member of my family ever needs anything (whether a new pair of shoes, a trip to the doctor, or even a unnecessary luxury), we're basically able to get it, no matter what. And I know that so many people are not in that position, lacking medical coverage, a decent job, or a place to live. My hope is that we can work toward ending this situation - that one day, maybe even in my lifetime, that no one - woman, man, or child, will go without their needs being met. It's not only my hope for this; it has to be my voice, my actions, and yes my money that go to making the world a better place.

One last thing: every year, I used to look forward to receiving a birthday check. Now, I'm finishing my celebration by writing one to a worthy cause. Maybe you can too. Happy Birthday!

Tikkun Olam and striving to root out oppression should be front page news EVERY DAY

Yesterday, the local paper - the South Bend Tribune - ran a story on its cover page about the meaning of Passover. For it the author interviewed me (well, more realistically, we chatted for about 10 minutes in which I responded to about 2.5 questions which were all pretty basic). In responding to his interest in the meaning of the holiday, I suggested that Passover is one of the many Jewish occasions on which we are all reminded of our responsibility to improve the world.
He said something like "so, on Passover, Jewish think about making the world better." I corrected him - while cringing into the phone - that Jews focus on our human responsibility to perform acts of tikkun olam - perfecting the world - all the time.
A few days later, as the article ran on the cover under the title "Rabbi reflects on the meaning of Passover," I couldn't help but think to myself "man, if only this message could be broadcast each and every day." For if there is any meaning to Passover, to Jewish life itself, it is the shared human obligation to seek mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with the Divine at all times.

If you'd like to see the article, go to

http://www.southbendtribune.com/news/sbt-20110425sbtmicha-01-03-20110425,0,2874062.story

At our recent Passover seders, we were reminded of the words Moses spoke to Pharaoh, pleading for Israelite liberation from slavery: “So says Adonai...‘Let My people go, that they may serve Me’” (Exodus 9:1). The purpose of our freedom is to serve the Divine. And just what does that mean? Since ancient days, Judaism as promoted a prophetic vision of a better world, one made so by our active involvement in tikkun olam – the work of social justice. It is our task to cry out against injustice, oppression and cruelty wherever and whenever they appear – no matter who the victim, no matter what the risk. This illustrates the perspective of progressive Judaism, and one of the reasons I am proud and privileged to be part of the Reform movement. As you should know – and as I’ve been discussing for weeks – this year marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism (the RAC). As the RAC has published about these 50 years:

the RAC has been the hub of Jewish social justice and legislative activity in Washington, D.C. As the DC office of the Union for Reform Judaism, the RAC educates and mobilizes the Reform Jewish community on legislative and social concerns, advocating on more than 70 different issues, including economic justice, civil rights, religious liberty, Israel and more. The RAC’s work is mandated by the Union for Reform Judaism, whose 900+ congregations across North America include 1.5 million Reform Jews, and the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR), whose membership includes more than 1,800 Reform rabbis. Representatives of these two organizations, as well as the Union’s affiliates, comprise the Commission on Social Action of Reform Judaism, which governs the RAC’s policy positions.

For more, go to www.rac.org.

Most importantly, the RAC is OUR voice. Along with the status the Reform movement has gains through our social justice activism; it takes our support to ensure the reach of Jewish values in our society and world. I ask you to be an even greater partner in this sacred work: learn more about the RAC and its activities; sign up for its email distribution list; contribute your time and resources to the issues that concern you and surely affect others.My colleague Jonathan Stein, newly elected president of the CCAR (the Reform rabbinical body) said, “tikkun olam remains the coin of the realm in the Reform movement. Let us be vigilant to ensure that our freedom and opportunity is spent wisely, that our actions, words and deeds continue to serve the Divine.

Had the great opportunity this morning to be part of a panel for my friend Dave Campbell's political science class at Notre Dame. Dave, along with Bob Putnam, is author of the recent book "American Grace: How Religion Divides us and Unites Us" (about which I've written previously). For my part, I was able to speak a bit about my own background, education and experience, and address how Reform Judaism fits in the spectrum of American religious life. Several of the students had visited Temple (or one of the other local congregations represented by the panelists), so it became an even more comfortable forum for them to ask questions related to our remarks or their studies. A few students joined us guests for lunch following the class session, which capped off the experience in a very warm and inviting way.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this episode for me - also going a long way to Dave and Bob's thesis in their book - was the makeup of the presenting team. In addition to one priest from the Notre Dame community itself, the others of us have even closer connections beyond today's class. Professor Campbell is also a neighbor, whose son attends school with and is the dearest friend to my son; a third presenter, Scott Scheel, serves Edwardsburg Presbyterian Church (Edwardsburg, MI), and ALSO lives in our subdivision, and has a son who goes to school and is friends with both young Campbell and young Siroka. Our final presenter, a twenty-something from Granger Community Church (the local "mega-church"), not only grew up in our very neighborhood, his parents are still here, so he considers our locale "home". The idea that 5 professionals from such very disparate places on the religious spectrum could be so personally interconnected remains one of the most powerful, and uplifting elements of our lives today.
As a life-long Reform Jew, and a rabbi privileged to serve this unique community, I couldn't be more jazzed by this chance...

And the good times did roll - #ccar11 in review

"Tikkun Olam is still the coin of the realm in the Reform Movement." So said Rabbi Jonathan Stein in his introductory remarks as the new president of the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR). This brief line stands out as one highlight of a very exciting, fulfilling and inspiring five days spent with several hundred colleagues in New Orleans. Launching his term with such a reinvigorating statement serves also to affirm what I hold about Reform's brand of progressive Judaism: that our primary goal is to see Jewish living as a framework through which we execute our Divine mission to improve, repair, and heal the world. Perhaps more simply, that through our deeds and words, we make the world better for our having been here.
There were of course a great many more focal points for my attendance at this year's gathering: marking the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Religious Action Center (with inspiring words from Rabbis David Saperstein, Lynne Landsberg, and my dear old friend Jonah Pesner); being with some of my fellow Brickner Fellows; studying with HUC-JIR president David Ellenson; "visioning" sessions about the future of Reform Judaism and the rabbinate; vibrant discussion about the movement (thanks to the RVI); early-morning and late-nite conversations with friends and colleagues....
...I even hear we were situated near the French Quarter :)
OKAY, so there were also the sights and sounds and tastes of the host city to enjoy - great meals and music shared with dear friends, as we recharged our batteries while engaging one another with the most important topics we face as rabbis and people.
As I blogged from last year's convention: the challenges of travel can detract from the experience; once again, the conference itself, and the many present with whom I had the chance to spend time, made it all worth while. Letting the good times (continue to) roll, and looking forward to next year in Boston.

Protests, civil disobedience, and revolution

This has certainly been an interesting few weeks, for anyone who pays attention to the worldwide (and local) social and political scene. From Tunisia, Egypt and Libya to Wisconsin, Indiana and Ohio - we are witnessing shifts in the landscape ranging subtle to seismic. Amazing to watch the power of mobilization and mobility in play, perhaps unlike any time yet in history. Tweets and texts have added to the tools of those who instigate, organize, and orchestrate all forms of political action from peaceable protest to violent upheaval.
On a much more limited scale, I was fortunate to take a very small part in such activity this evening. At tonight's meeting of the South Bend Common Council, a resolution was to be introduced that would voice this community's concern about legislation that is pending in the Indiana Senate (S.B. 590, which would toughen restriction and regulations around the issue of immigration policy, etc., a la recent news items in AZ). Such a morally outrageous step would be detrimental to our community and region, beyond the economic factors that have been stated. These kinds of anti-immigrant moves (coming from a generally bigoted perspective) go a long way to denigrating and de-valuing the people involved.
The local Hispanic community, which has been working to create a network through which to address its concerns in the public sphere, did an admirable job in mobilizing a supportive presence to attend the Common Council session. I was asked to attend by a fellow member of our congregation (who, in addition to being our Social Justice chair, serves on the Reform movement's Commission on Social Action. Together we have been working to build bridges in our broader community that cross religious, racial, and socio-economic lines).
By the time we arrived, the Council chamber was already packed to standing-room-only. No one was being admitted, and a very large number of additional people filled the lobby area just outside. We cocked our heads, trying to hear inside, to little avail. After some time, an entire team of firemen appeared, expressing concern for the potentially hazardous situation of so many people possibly blocking safe access or exit. We were told to leave the area, and congregate in the main lobby downstairs. At this time, the officers closed the door to the chamber - which of course was a visually disconcerting gesture, as if to say to the crowd we are disallowing your participation in the process of government.
The entire group did gather in the lobby, very patiently and peacefully awaiting news from the Council chamber. Eventually, the results were reported - the Council passed the resolution unanimously, 8-0. Cheers erupted and the organizers addressed the crowd. There was a sense of accomplishment and pride that on this occasion our community, no matter what its challenges, declared its solidarity with ALL its residents, and will strive to support fair and just immigration policy.
Looking around, and noting clearly that I was one of just a handful of non-Hispanics in the assembly of several hundred people, I was awed: it's not usual that, even as a Jew, I feel in the minority. Typically being called upon as a community leader, it was again eye-opening, and even refreshing, to be overwhelmed by my sense of smallness - not even being able to understand the words of the organizers (as I do not speak Spanish). Yet the positive vibe was powerful, and the feeling of being part of something good was undeniable. As we left the building to make our way back to my friend's car, we shared these thoughts - both of us knowing, even more than before, that we are fortunate with the lives we have: our families of origin, the opportunities we've been given, and the generation in which we were born have made sure that we have never known disadvantage or bigotry on any significant level. As we parted with our Hispanic friends, I was reminded once again of my responsibility to all my fellow human beings, friend and stranger alike, for we were strangers too.