Category: blog archive

Pictures for Fun

So many pictures. So little time to post. Here’s a partial group shot, some tasty elongated kiwi, a Daniel Statue at the Israel Museum, Rach and Yonina reconnecting, and the group outside Jaffa Gate.

Shining the Light of Tikun Olam: Fixing the World from Jerusalem

Our Sunday began walking in the dimly lit passages of the tunnel that runs along the base of the Temple Mount. Our touring Sunday concluded as Rabbi Uri Regev, head of the World Union for Progressive Judaism (WUPJ), challenged us to live up to the ideals of Congregation Or Ami’s name (“Light of My People”) by truly becoming an Or Lagoyim, a shining light of Jewish values to the world. In between, we saw, we volunteered, we remembered and we contemplated what it means to engage in Tikun Olam, fixing this messed up world of ours.

Israeli archeologists have opened a passage (Kotel Tunnel) that runs eastward from the Kotel (Western Wall) along the walls at the base of the Temple Mount. We marveled at the intricate construction: each stone was etched with a perfect rectangular frame, each level set back exactly the same few centimeters from the one below it, and each stone perfectly flush with its neighbors. We contemplated (without conclusion) how the builders could have moved and placed foundation stones the size of school buses. Then, in amazement and wonder, we walked along the same stone street that our ancestors walked along back in Herodian times. In this dimly lit and slightly claustrophobic tunnel, our Jewish souls shined as we walked through history come alive.

Next, we visited Yad LaKashish, Lifeline to the Elderly, a Jerusalem workshop that takes Jerusalem’s elderly off the park benches, teaches them a craft, provides them with meals, transportation and supplemental medical care, and then sells their beautiful crafts to raise money to support this holy enterprise. Once a one room workshop, Yad LaKashish has grown into a multi-room complex dedicated to Tikun Olam, fixing the world by rediscovering the value (both spiritual and economic) of one elderly person at a time. These crafts are beautiful! We agreed that the light of Or Ami would shine brightly by filling our soon-to-be built Gift Shop with these crafts. Before leaving, our little group spent at least $4,000 (American dollars) on gifts – exquisite tallitot, beautiful wall hangings, and intricate jewelry – that will connect our family and friends back home with these sparks of holy social justice work.

Meir Panim and Koach LaTet reminded us of the transformational power of volunteerism. These Meir Panim “Food Houses” (sounds more humane than soup kitchens) offer meals in tasteful restaurant-like settings to thousands of people around the country. Koach LaTet (literally, “the Power to Give”) is like Israel’s Salvation Army, collecting furniture and clothing, refurbishing them, and then delivering it to Israel’s needy families. We volunteered our time. Some of us cut blankets, sewing them into scarves to warm the homeless and disadvantaged as winter approached. Others engaged in manual labor, lifting and arranging boxes of donated medical supplies to be shipped to medical clinics in low income areas or schlepping old palates and crates to the garbage bin. Then we ate the same lunch at the same tables as Meir Panim’s low income guests. Apparently, the monies we would have spent on our lunchtime restaurant meal were donated to Meir Panim so we could experience another form of living. We who dine in top notch restaurants were humbled to taste the watery soup and nibble on the spicy chicken and the quartered potatoes. Still, we were uplifted to learn that all this was made possible because one man wanted to carry on the memory of his son Meir who died from an incurable disease. From the darkness that consumed his son’s life, one father illuminated the world l’taken olam b’malchut Shaddai, to fix the world [as it should appear] in the realm of the Holy One. A few of us committed ourselves to developing a monthly Or Ami Tikun Olam volunteer day at the local Valley Sova Food Pantry so we can help fix (and feed) our little corner of the world.

Israel’s Mt. Herzl memorial and military cemetery connected us with Israel’s recent past and to the heroes who gave their lives to change the world. We visited the memorial to Theodore Herzl, the father of modern Zionism, who in 1897 convened the first Zionist Congress with the purpose of recreating a homeland for the Jews. Im tirzu, ein zo aggadah, he said. If you will it, it is no dream. We placed little stones (the Jewish act that signifies visitation to a grave) at the grave of Israeli Prime Ministers Golda Meir and at the memorial to assassinated Prime Minister and peacemaker Yitzhak Rabin. We witnessed Israel’s egalitarian tradition in the military sections: the grave of military hero Yonatan Netanyahu of the 1976 Entebbe rescue sits humbly next to the graves of less famous but equally venerated Israeli fallen enlisted men and women. Reflecting on the sacrifices these men and women made reminded us that with the rebirth of the State of Israel in modern times, we have changed the world in significant ways. Jews now have a homeland, free from persecution. The world, though they do not always appreciate it, now sees a vibrant example of democracy in the Middle East and unparalleled open access to religious sites throughout holy Jerusalem.

We ended the day at Beit Shmuel/Mercaz Shimshon, home to our Reform movement’s international parent body, the World Union for Progressive Judaism. In forty short minutes at the end of an exhausting day, Rabbi Uri Regev talked about the ongoing struggle to nurture in Israel and around the world a progressive, egalitarian form of Judaism which is committed to vibrant openness and social justice values. He illuminated the challenges: Chabad’s success at raising monies to claim a monopoly on Jewish life in the former Soviet Union with their patriarchal, hierarchical orthodox Judaism, and the ongoing attempts by Israel’s orthodox religious parties to block the development of an Israeli constitution that would guarantee the rights of all Jews in Israel to a civil (or a reform Jewish) wedding or burial and the rights of all Israel’s citizens (women and Israeli minorities included) to a equality under the law. In a riff on our name Or Ami (Light of My People), he challenged us appropriately to become that light to our whole people – not just the Jews who become members of Or Ami – by engaging in the conversation about what Israel’s character should be, by planting a progressive Judaism in the former Soviet Union (home to a quickly growing Jewish population) and by deepening our involvement in Tikun Olam, Jewish social activism.

An exhausting day! Sure, we found babysitters for the kids and enjoyed a dinner out at restaurant 1868 as adults. But the call to transform the world – and the challenges that we face in doing so – enflamed our imaginations as much as the tasty Israeli cuisine filled up our bellies. May we all be up to the task… to live up to our name – to be a light unto our whole Jewish people. Laila Tov – Good Night.

Snoozing, Shopping and Schepping Nachas on Ben Yehuda Street

Following a Havdala ceremony to end Shabbat and a surprise cake and candles for this Rabbinic Birthday Boy, we shared dinner with Lucille and Ryan Goldin at the Rimon Café, just off Ben Yehuda Street (Paul Goldin stayed back to recover from a bad cold). We chose Rimon Café upon discovering that Michelle’s favorite Aroma Café had shut down years ago after a series of suicide bombings decimated the nightlife on Ben Yehuda Street during early 2000’s Second Intifada. Yet from tonight’s activities, you would never know that mindless hatred had once turned this into a dangerous place to stroll.

Ben Yehuda Street has always been Jerusalem’s equivalent of Santa Monica’s 3rd Street Promenade, a no-cars pedestrian walking mall lined with shops (tourist traps) and restaurants (mostly open air). It is a place of people watching and people meeting, where the game of Jewish geography can be played on an international scale. I bumped into a colleague from Pennsylvania and his synagogue tour group; others reconnect with old friends from NFTY programs, college, youth group and more. Inundated with tourists and Year-in-Israel college students, modern orthodox and motivated hawkers, it serves on Motzei Shabbat (Saturday night, post Shabbat) as THE center of Jerusalem’s almost non-existent nightlife. Midway down the walking mall a yeshiva band plays rock and roll. Farther down, at Kikar Tzion (Zion Square) an ever-growing group of yeshiva bochers (students in their early 20’s, boys only) dance wildly in a circle to music of their own making. Of course, smells of falafel and humus waft through the streets near a small hole-in-the-wall where more than 36 people line up for an evening meal.

Rimon Café is really two Kosher restaurants in one: on the left basari (Hebrew for meat) and on the right chalavi (Hebrew for dairy). Although we saw the Wolfson clan consuming a fleishig (Yiddish for meat) meal (they must have arrived before the crowds), we were only able to find seats in the milchig (Yiddish for dairy) section. Even under the heat lamps, we were still chilly. And exhausted. Post-ordering, four of us took naps. Michelle and I enjoyed a romantic (?) birthday snooze, dozing in our seats, while Noah and Ryan put their heads down on the table and slept full on. Grandpa Murray, Rachel and Lucille enjoyed some conversation while waiting for the food to come.

Well, the meal was a bust. My lox, cream cheese and avocado sandwich arrived cold with a rubber band toasted within, while the pizzas were bland and cooler too. Michelle’s onion soup was tasty but Daniel did not enjoy the baked parmesan cheese atop his pasta. The other boys merely nibbled on their pasta, while Rachel grazed off other people’s plates upon learning – after all of our food was sporadically delivered – that they did not have the burekas she ordered.

Funny though, lousy service aside, it was a great evening. We were mildly entertained by a loud-mouthed New Yawker at the next table whose grating voice reminded us that we were in a Jerusalem melting pot. I enjoyed “tay eem nana” whose warmth and flavor (fresh mint drowning in chamomile tea) brought back memories of many a night trying to keep warm from the Jerusalem chill. The restaurant’s manager appropriately provided a new lox sandwich and offered a complimentary dessert (I took a gift certificate to share with our tour guide instead). Jews serving Jews in a Jewish city at the end of a Jewish Holy Day. I would still come back to Rimon Café just for the experience.

Shopping.
Noah perked up at the opportunity to purchase a new shofar. A natural at sounding the shofar (he is a main blower at his Heschel West Day School in Agoura), this kid initially blanched at the thought of getting a four-foot long curly shofar until I promised that he would grow into it and that until he did, I would hold the end up until he did. We acquired two other shofarot that night: one for novice Ryan and another for trumpet-playing Andrew Gurewitz. I had to assure all the parents that shofarot of such length would easily clear customs and fit in the overhead compartment. I am sure, sort of, that I am right. Andrew and I made a deal: I would teach him the names and lengths of the sounds if he would show Noah just how to tighten his lips to alter the tone. I informed the bunch of them to be patient and practice. Although they would begin in the Shofar Blowing minor leagues (sounding at family and youth services on the High Holy Days), one day they might blow clean up as part of the ever growing group sounding Tekiah Gedolah at the Neilah closing service.

Other trip participants spent their shekels shopping as well. My family surprised me with a versatile, multi-colored Shabbat ritual box for my birthday. The Shabbat candle holders flip over to become a Havdala spice box and candle holder. The Kiddush cup and plate find use in both ceremonies. The Kelemans bought various items including a gorgeous chanukiah, even as Mishpacha Coordinator Rachel Isaacson found and fell in love with the perfect tallit for her wedding chuppah. Exhausted by 9:30 pm (touring is tiring), we dragged ourselves down the street to find a cab home. Of course, my two girls decided that since we needed two taxicabs to transport our family back to the hotel, they would hang back a bit to shop some more.

I awoke at 6 am this morning to a note assuring me that my girls returned back to the hotel around 11:30 pm. A smile spread across my face. My family spent the night out in Jerusalem. My girls undoubtedly boosted Israel’s economy spending their share of shekels in Israel’s capital. My congregants were spent from a Saturday night in the heart of Jerusalem’s secular hot spot. And I slept soundly even before they were all in bed. Much still needs to be done to bring comprehensive peace to this part of the world, but for the moment, it feels darned peaceful to me.

Shavuah Tov, may it be a good week for us all.

Shabbat in Jerusalem: Reflections of Mishpacha Coordinator Rachel Isaacson

I am thrilled and overjoyed to be back in Israel – and I am so grateful to Congregation Or Ami for welcoming me with open arms on this trip! Returning to Jerusalem, where I recently lived for my first year of graduate school at Hebrew Union College has been both wonderful and challenging: I loved seeing the city sparkle in the Friday morning sun, but I still struggle with this holy city that is run by ultra-Orthodox Jews. How do we work towards the ideal of klal Yisrael (one people of Israel) with fellow Jews who spew senseless hatred? How do we reconcile feelings of Israel as our homeland, and Israel as a place that does not always welcome our Reform Jewish values? While I look forward to trying to answer these questions (truly a lifelong journey!), I also look forward to exploring these issues outside of Jerusalem – where this type of inter-Jewish religious conflict is not part of daily life.

This morning we traveled to Mevasseret Tzion for Shabbat services. Mevasseret Tzion is the sister city to Calabasas, and the Progressive (Reform Jewish) congregation there (Kehillat Mevasseret Tzion) is the sister congregation to Or Ami. Rabbi Maya Leibovich was the first Israeli woman ordained as a rabbi in Israel. She led services with a special warmth that drew everyone together – even though some tunes and words may not have been familiar to the Or Ami congregants, everyone was able to celebrate Shabbat and feel a sense of belonging. After reading Torah, we split into small groups to talk about our impressions of Israel and hear about the Israeli Reform Movement. These conversations were incredibly important – we heard from one of the founders of Kehillat Mevasseret Tzion, who explained how difficult it was for them to obtain the space and funding for a building. Another synagogue member explained the importance of having the choice of Reform Judaism in Israel – she is frustrated with the power the Orthodox hold over Israel. These conversations brought both communities together as Or Ami members were able to start thinking about the important role of Reform Judaism in Israel, and how much of a battle the movement has just in gaining the right to exist in Israel. No doubt these discussions will continue as we meet with Uri Regev, the head of the World Union for Progressive Judaism, tomorrow evening.

Welcoming Shabbat, Finding Shalom

We greeted the Shabbat bride beautifully. In Jerusalemite tradition, we meandered through the crowded noisy alleyways of Machane Yehuda, witnessing the cacophony of Jewish communal life: sellers hawking their brightly colored fruits and varieties of nuts and spices, fish salesmen showing their still-flopping catches, bakeries offering the most delicious still-hot challot and burekas.

After changing, we gathered in a top-floor room in a nearby hotel for Kabbalat Shabbat, our Friday evening prayers. Looking through huge windows at the expanse of Jerusalem at night, we lit our last night of Chanukah candles and then Shabbat candles. With Rachel Isaacson serving as Shaliach Tzibur (literally “representative of the community,” but more colloquial the “musical prayer leader” – another of her many talents that we keep enjoying to discover), we sang songs of praise and thanksgiving.

Reflecting on the connections we made that morning with our ancestors (at the Wall, in the alleyways of the Jewish Quarter of the Old City, at Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum), we davened the Avot v’Imahot prayer, reminding the Holy One of Blessing that we are the descendants of those ancestors with which God had such close relations. Watching a youngster peacefully sleeping on the lap of one of our teens, and recognizing that all anyone really wants is to know that his/her children can sleep soundly each night like this little one, we prayed for Shalom Rav, a great peace for Jerusalem, Israel, the Middle East and the whole world. We reflected on the lessons learned from the juxtaposition of two tiulim (trips) in one day: the somberness of Yad Vashem Holocaust museum and the cacophony of the Machane Yehuda open air market. Participants offer so many meaningful drashot (interpretations) on this juxtaposition: that it teaches we moved from an attempt to destroy us to witnessing our survival. That the rich variety of Jewish life in pre-Holocaust Europe and North Africa lives on in the wide varieties of Jews shopping shoulder to shoulder. That since you cannot escape the reality that being even only ¼ Jewish would have put you in Hitler’s crematoria, you should embrace this wonderfully creative people called the Jews. That like good wines, the reason for survival must be based on an appreciation for a mixture of the rich varietals of Judaism.

[Incidentally, I found Yad Vashem overwhelming and Machane Yehuda reinvigorating. The one left a bad taste in my mouth (how could people do this to each other? Why does it continue in Darfur, through the words of Iran’s president, elsewhere in the world?). The other left my stomach aching joyously from the many tastes (including baker Marzipan’s world-famous chocolate rugulach).]

Standing in the middle of marketplace, I felt at peace; I could have stood in the middle of the crowds for hours. Celebrating Shabbat, I felt at peace; Congregation Or Ami’s light shined from one end of the world to the other that Shabbat eve. Looking down at the clock on my computer, I realize that Or Ami in Calabasas is just finishing up its services right now. Time for breakfast here… Shabbat Shalom.

Birthday Reflections: Mixed Emotions at the Kotel

6:30 am. All’s quiet on the Israeli front – or at least here in my darkened hotel room. This will be the fourth birthday I have spent in Israel. Birthdays post-High School on the Reform Leadership Machon and during the first year of Rabbinical School were part of year-long programs. A birthday present trip in 2004, shared with congregant Mark Wolfson, was purposeful (I had been away from Israel too long). This one, leading Or Ami’s first congregational trip to the Holy Land, is extra special because I get to spend it with my wife, children and dear friends from the synagogue.

Thursday’s Kotel (Western Wall) visit was familiarly distasteful and surprisingly touching.

It was touching because I placed prayers given to me by congregants including those of the Camerons, Erlangers, and Goldsobels. Our group authored our prayers at the Southern Wall excavations where moments before we walked on stones on which our Biblical ancestors tarried. In this same area, singing Shir HaMa’a lot, a Song of Ascension, we climbed steps leading to the gates (now blocked off) through which Biblical pilgrims entered to offer their thrice yearly sacrifices (on Sukkot, Passover and Shavuot). Then I placed my own which in part asked Makor HaChayim (the Source of Life) for blessings of health, safety, wisdom, tzedakah, openness and love for my family, my congregation and my world.

I felt the excitement of participating in a tradition that has captured the hearts of Jews worldwide and throughout the generations. Additionally, I stood at the Kotel with my sons and father-in-law as the boys for the first time placed meticulously written words in the cracks of the Kotel. Each searched for just the right place. Finally, I had to hold each on my shoulders so they could place it in a wider crevice 8 feet up. One son kissed the wall spontaneously, while the other donned the new tallit we bought for his upcoming Bar Mitzvah service to try it out in this holiest of places. Midor lador (from generation to generation). How moving to have three generations together in the place Jews for generations yearned to touch and pray!

Yet, the visit was familiarly distasteful because in the past I usually found myself agitated and turned off by the way this universal Jewish site has become transformed – for the worse – under the control of the ultra-orthodox. It has become, quite literally, an orthodox shul, in the most misogynist of ways. The women’s section, separated off by a mechitza (separation wall), is so small that our female participants could barely get a few moments to touch it. To be forced to experience this separate from other Or Ami participants, not to mention my wife and daughter, was distasteful and saddening. Rachel Isaacson, our Mishpacha Coordinator, along to help staff the trip, shared reflections from her experiences with Women of the Wall (a group pushing for the right of women to pray together at the Kotel with tallitot and Torah) was instrumental in helping some participants process these frustrating feelings. Additionally, the experience of ultra-orthodox Jews constantly walking up, begging for tzedakah, often specifically for yeshivot (orthodox study schools) which taught and worked against the right of Rabbis like me (reform Jewish) and Jews like me (egalitarian, religiously progressive) to pray and study the way we do, was distasteful. In the past, I visited the Kotel only because I was supposed to do so. I would choose a Southern Wall experience or visit a local synagogue of t’nuat Yahadut Mitkademet (Israeli Progressive Movement). Thank goodness that our progressive (non-fundamentalist), egalitarian (non-misogynist) religious perspective is increasingly taking root amongst the Israeli population (with PR reading “There is more than one way to be religious!).

Isn’t this the Israel I love? Rich with tradition; filled with contradictions. Love it, struggle with it, return to it again and again. Now that’s a birthday present!

Friday: A Day of Contrasts

Trip participant Bruce Sallan writes:
A day of juxtaposition. The morning at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial and museum; the afternoon at the pre-Shabbat chaos of Machane Yehuda, Jerusalem’s famous open-air market. We walked through the new Yad Vashem museum, opened approximately 18 months ago, along with swarms of others, mostly youth groups on birth-right trips. We got the feel, but only a fraction of the immense details. Exhibits of artifacts, photographs, testimonials of survivors, and numerous documentaries – far too much to absorb in our short 75-minutes there. The last room houses the names of the victims, 3 million that have been identified so far…all carefully placed in identical books along the circular shelves that surround this room. In the center of this stark room, with half the shelves filled with names, awaiting the inclusion of the other half of unidentified victims of the Holocaust, is a deep stone pit…at least 20+ feet…at the bottom of which lies a pool of water. On leaving this long, narrow, triangular edifice, you emerge to walls that literally part to give a vista view of the Jerusalem countryside. We then saw the Children’s Memorial, a stark, dark mirrored room illuminated by five candles and their incalculable reflected images. In the dark, you move along holding onto the handrail, gazing at the infinite reflected images while hearing a recitation of names of individual children, theirs ages (at death) and their place of birth. Finally, after seeing the original Yad Vashem memorial, with its Eternal Flame in the center of a dark floor with the names of the various camps, we visited the outdoor memorial to all the decimated communities ravaged by The Shoah (Holocaust). It is a maze of very tall huge stones, interspersed with the names of all communities irreparably damaged or completely destroyed. At one point, the sun peaked through the moving clouds as I gazed up at yet another list of communities on the stone walls reaching towards the sky. Quite moving. This last stop became the site of our own memorial service in honor of our visit to Yad Vashem. All we saw was beautiful, except for the content they reflected. In contrast, the Machane Yehuda, Jerusalem’s famed outdoor market, was a cacophony of shouting and pushing, shoving, almost frantic shoppers. Both our Mishpacha Coordinator Rachel and our guide, Alexandra, insisted that a particular bakery, Marzipan, had the most incredible, mouth-watering, delicious, sinfully rich chocolate rugelach. They neglected to inform us of the Herculean effort required to get to the front of the line to actually get some! We ate falafels, other pastries, shwarmas, all dripping with juices and flavors, enriched by the atmosphere of this infamous market. After a while, I had to let go of my need and desire for a more orderly, comfortable environment and just marvel at the miracle that the Holocaust begat…Israel in its wonder and extra-ordinary diversity. Its existence, its continued survival in the midst of countries dedicated to its destruction, its sheer chutzpah…not to mention its amazing chocolate rugelach!

First Night: Jet Lagged but Jewishly Energized

The mystery deepens in the middle of the night. At 3:27 pm California time, it is merely 1:27 am (in the MORNING) in Jerusalem. Sitting in the lobby, I note with exhaustion the hordes of energetic college students on the Hillel Birthright trip have taken over the hotel cafe. At first glance, aside from the Hebrew on the exit signs, the café menus and the conversations of the hotel staff, I could be sitting in the lobby of a hotel anywhere in Europe. And yet I know, we are in Jerusalem.

We are in Jerusalem. Like generations of Jews, we have ascended the heights to this spiritual center. Here we stood at Hebrew University looking out over Jerusalem. There were the walls surrounding the Old City, demarking its holiness to countless pilgrims. Somewhere in its midst sat the Kotel, the Western Wall, focal point of Jewish prayer and yearning for generations. Tomorrow we climb those walls, pray at that Kotel, and meander through the ancient streets of this ancient city. How can one put into words the excitement of seeing the holy city again? How to find language to capture the excitement of seeing the city for the first time? Rather I would show you the beautiful sunset descending over the hills as it bathed the city in a golden hue. It is just like we sing in that famous song Yerushalayim Shel Zahav, Jerusalem of Gold. I would invite you to breathe in the freshness of the air. It opens the lungs, refreshes the soul. I would ask you why you, like the others here on this hilltop, are crowded so close together. Surely we huddled together because the air was chilly. Yet as I held my own family close and surveyed the faces of other Or Ami families, I witnessed something else: the need to hold others close so as to share this moment of transformation, this song of ascension (shir ha-ma’a lot), this feeling that we are once again home. L’chaim we toasted. Yes, to the fullness of life, that brought us to this very special moment. We are in Jerusalem. We have come home!

Arrival: Spiritual Aliyah to Jerusalem

We arrived. Tired but excited. Once passing through customs, we drove the back route to Jerusalem so we could pass by Modi’in. Our first glimpse of Jewish history coming alive: in Modi’in, brave Mattathias rallied those who refused to bow down to King Antiochus’ idols and together they fought the Assyrian soldiers sent out to enforce the limitations on Torah study and worship of Adonai. We said, nes gadol haya po (a great miracle happened HERE), instead of “nes gadol haya sham (a great miracle happened THERE), because we are HERE in Israel. Then we were off to the tiyelet, the Panoramic view from Mount Scopus of Jerusalem. With one sweep of our eyes we will take in the fullness of this holy city. We read about the experiences of our ancestors – Abraham, King David, Isaiah, Theodore Herzl – as they dreamed of and made their way to Jerusalem. Then, following a blessing recited by our Mishpacha Coordinator Rachel Isaacson for our arrival in Jerusalem, we passed around cups of grape juice to make a “L’chaim – to life.” We concluded with a shehecheyanu prayer, thanking God for giving us life, for sustaining us, and for allowing us to reach this special moment of holiness. To share this moment with my wife, my children, my father-in-law, and this wonderful congregation is so magical. It truly is a spiritual aliyah, a spiritual ascension to holiness! Lit Chanukah candles, shared stories in families about what this trip means to us. My niece Yonina showed up, looking great and happy. Off to bed, late.

On El Al Flight 6: Hopes and Dreams: Wednesday Early Morning.

We are on the plane, about 45 minutes outside of Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv/Yafo. Most of us caught but a few hours of sleep: some were excited, some overtired, some couldn’t find a place to put our legs as we were sardined into tiny seats. We just began flying over the Mediterranean Sea. We will be in Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel, before we know it. In preparation for this shehecheyanu moment, I asked our Or Ami tour participants to reflect upon two questions: Why they are taking this trip to Israel and what do they hope to experience? The Goldin Family: We had heard about the trip when Or Ami was going in August 06 originally but had not planned to go. When the trip as rescheduled to December 06, it was in an instant I decided we were going as family! My husband Paul had been to Israel 34 years ago but neither myself or my son Ryan had ever been. I thought this would be an opportunity of a lifetime for us to experience Israel as not only a family but with Rabbi Paul and others from Or Ami. In 2009 when Ryan becomes a Bar Mitzvah I hope this trip and memories of Israel will have a long lasting impact that will add some meaning to why he is up on the bimah becoming a Bar Mitzvah. Toby and Burt Stonefield: Toby and I have never been to Israel although it has been a dream of ours. As a Jew, I wanted the feeling of going to the place where our forefathers lived and thrived for over 5000 years. I have always felt a need to experience it. The trip with our friends and fellow congregants gave this opportunity we had hoped for. Teen Andrew Gurewitz: I had never been to Israel before. I want to go to learn about the rich cultural history of our people. I really also wanted come to finish what I started. I wanted to become a Bar Mitzvah in Israel but that never happened because of the hostilities. Murray November: I came on this trip to revisit some of the roots and remember forefathers and to feel the inner soul of living in a Jewish Homeland. Most importantly, coming here to experience the spiritual passing on of tradition and religious life from me (the past) onto the grandchildren. It is a multigenerational experience. While growing up, I remember collecting money in the little blue tzedakah box for the Jewish National Fund and I wanted to check on how our collective investment was doing. Steve Keleman: I am traveling with my wife and our daughter and son-in-law to return to Israel. Our reasons for this trip are to get to know other Congregation Or Ami members better and to see Israel from a religious and historical perspective. We enjoyed and learned so much from our last trip nine years ago that we wanted to return for more. It is also a great time to give to Israel and show our support. Jim Mertzel: Marianne and I decided that there was no better way to experience Israel for the first time, than to share it with our daughter, Ellen, her husband Mark, and their sons Greg, Matt and Ben. The timing is appropriate as Matt and Greg will be called to the Torah as B’nai Mitzvah next month. We thought that for them to experience Israel at this time would reinforce the traditions, the language, and the beauty that our religion has meant to us. It is our hope that this experience will be one that they will remember through the years and be a great lead into the entire Bar Mitzvah experience. Noah Kipnes: I am excited about taking this trip to Israel because I have heard of Israel and all of its wonderful features. I hope to swim in the Dead Sea, pray at the Western Wall, and see all of the famous places in Israel. I look forward to seeing David ben Gurion’s grave and home. Daniel Kipnes: I am excited because I get to see the Western Wall. Israel is our homeland. This will be the furthest I will be away from home.

Greeting History and Holiness in Israel: Or Ami’s First Family Trip to the Holy Land


On Tuesday, 39 Or Ami members leave for a spiritual aliyah (aliyah or ascent, from ayin-lamed-hey meaning to rise up) to our State of Israel, Judaism’s spiritual center. Our group, ranging in age from 5 years old to 83, has grown in numbers since the original trip was postponed due to the war on Israel’s northern border in summer, 2006. Parents and children, grandparents, young couples, and less-young couples are all packing away the weekend, preparing to greet holiness and history in Israel.

Excitement was in the air as we shared a moment of blessing within the standing room only crowd of Congregation Or Ami’s Chanukah celebration this past Friday. One congregant whispered to me after the service that she was so excited for us. She felt like we were representing the whole congregation on our spiritual journey.

Turn to this blog for daily updates of Or Ami’s escapades. And make sure to share a comment or word of blessing that we can pass onto our Temple travelers. Niseeyah Tovah – a safe and wonderful journey for us all!

SRO Chanukah (Standing Room Only!)


They came from all over last night to celebrate the first night of Chanukah at Or Ami. Even staying within the room’s limits, we kept setting up chairs and more chairs, and then moved back the bimah and put the table with the candles in front of the ark, and set up more chairs, and they still kept coming. With our Jewry Duty band playing Chanukah songs throughout, we told the story, sang songs, lit candles and celebrated. Special time set aside to change a light bulb to a CFL (low energy compact flourescent lightbulb) transformed the lighting of candles into an illumination of our responsibility to take care of our world. We also collected tzedakah to purchase bags and boxes of fresh produce so to ensure that our SOVA food pantries will have fresh produce weekly to feed their 1500 guests.

I admit being a bit overwhelmed. We set up chairs for 220 before the service. A quick count put the actual numbers at closer to 285 by services end (not including those just milling around in the foyer). What is it about Chanukah that has people turning out in such numbers? I think it is something attached to a desire to celebrate the holiday in a religious/historical context, rather than merely to light and give presents. Wonder what others think…

Sowing Seeds of Anger

On Thursday, I sat in the synagogue at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion and heard a preacher captivate the entire community with a beautifully crafted, exquisitely presented sermon on anger. I sat transfixed, thinking she was talking to ME, even as (I learned later) others thought she was talking to THEM. This young darshan (Torah interpreter) Jocee Hudson, a fifth year Rabbinical student, began by saying: A few months ago, I planted seeds of anger within myself. Anger. And I am tending to these seedlings with such care and gentleness. I’m trying hard not to over-water them. I’m trying to keep them in the sunlight. I’m trying to talk to these anger-seeds, softly, to help them grow.
Teaching that the English word “anger” comes from a Norse word, “ang,” which means loss or grief and that anger, then, is the loss or grief we feel when we consider what could be, if it weren’t for injustice, Jocee urged us, quietly and passionately, to embrace anger to transform the world.

Many of us are afraid of anger, because anger in some people leads to acts of violence and destruction. But what if it led to acts of transformation, peaceful transformation, and ethical societal change? Jocee noted that being outraged means knowing what values are central to who we are—and feeling those values deep within us—feeling them in our stomachs. Being outraged means expressing anger when society crosses over that line between morality and immorality. Being a good leader means building communities in which everyone feels outrage if we step over that line.

Frankly, it is scary to speak about outrage to people who often only want us to “be nice” and who do not want to hear about critiques. Yet we teach that the job of the rabbi is

To comfort the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable.

Or as Jocee reminded us that Isaiah said (Isaiah 1:14-17): God is angry—angry at the injustice in our world. Isaiah hurls Divine words at his community; “Your new moons and fixed seasons fill Me with loathing! They have become a burden to Me, I cannot endure them. And when you lift up your hands, I will turn My eyes away from you….Cease to do evil; learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice; Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; Defend the cause of the widow.”

Just as we speak about God of a Comforter or a Healer or a Peace-maker or …, so too must we remember that in our tradition, surely God gets angry when humans fail to rise to the level of ethical behavior that we might expect. Perhaps the God of Anger does not punish in our world today, but, says Jocee, let us remember that “Anger” is the term that we, in our limited human vocabulary, can use to point toward God’s reaction to us when we allow the vulnerable to remain powerless.

Hmmm, peaceful anger or anger that leads to peaceful change. Interesting, huh?

Institute for Jewish Spirituality Transformed Me Spiritually


I just heard that the Institute for Jewish Spirituality is soon offering its fourth program for rabbis beginning July 2007. I am a graduate of the third cohort of rabbis and want to confess that this program has been the highlight of my personal and professional life in recent years.

Simply stated, attending the retreat program and participating in the interim guided chevruta text study has deepened my sense of connection with the Holy One, has integrated my “spiritual being” into my professional work, has calmed me personally and led me to become more attentive to the world around me. To say that I have had more serious encounters with the Divine in my life since entering this program is neither hyperbole nor loose “spiritual gobbly-gook.” It is my reality today.

Prior to entering this experience, I could talk intellectually about God and what God’s place should be in my life/our lives. The IJS program has provided me with both a language and an openness to be able to experience God’s Presence and to comfortably talk about it. The move from intellectual to experiential and back again was made possible by means of a program that is both experiential and, through its text study particularly, very intellectually rigorous. I now have a spiritual practice – prayer, meditation, yoga, text study, chanting, journaling, and more – that is deeply meaningful and inspirational (for me).

The Institute for Jewish Spirituality offers programs for lay people, rabbis, cantors and educators.

FYI: The IJS Rabbinic Leadership Program is a retreat-based program of study and practice for rabbis who seek to deepen their own spiritual lives and their abilities to develop as spiritual teachers and guides for others. Participants live and learn together for four five-day retreats over the course of eighteen months. Retreats combine prayer, meditation, text study, movement practice, group discussion, spiritual exercises and one-on-one guidance with faculty members. The period between retreats is an essential part of the program. Participants continue to learn and grow through a guided program of requisite weekly hevruta study, as well as optional support for meditation, movement and middot practice, and e-conversation with the other participants. For more information or an application, contact Rabbi Nancy Flam, Program Director, at nancy@ijs-online.org or 413.584.0187.