Friday, January 31, 2014

Shabbat-O-Gram for Jan. 31

I hope to see everyone here for Temple Rock on Saturday night.  It is unbelievable how hard the committee has been working to make this evening the great success it always is – a real highlight of our calendar year.  I hope to see you here!  

I also hope you noticed the email we sent out earlier today about our new young couples group.  Over a dozen very enthusiastic individuals have taken on leadership of this new venture.  They aren’t all members of TBE, but that doesn’t matter.  This group is open to everyone – including interfaith and other non traditional couples, with and without kids.  If you are looking to expand your social horizons, here’s your chance.  We find that people are so busy these days that it’s hard to break away and just be a human being for a couple of hours.  Here’s a chance to step back from the rat race and meet other crazed, incredibly busy people looking to do the same thing.  If you (or your adult kids) want to join them for their movie and bar night this Tuesday, contact Matt Miller at mattmiller585@gmail.com.   

Join us on Shabbat morning as we celebrate our TBE BCDS 8th graders as they prepare to leave for their Israel experience.  We look forward to sending off Eddie Weinstein, Matt Greenbaum, Matt Zweibel, Danny Goldblum, Hudson Price and Steven Yudell  - and also thank those of their families who will be sponsoring our lunch tomorrow.  ‘

Speaking of Israel, my son Dan is now at Hebrew U for spring semester, and he is continuing to blog about his travels at http://dhammerman.blogspot.com/.  Mara and I look forward to visiting him in March.

Speaking of my family, my dad’s music was featured in a recent radio show that highlights classic cantorial music.  If you are interested, you can find it here. Go to the program of Jan. 20, 2014 (#233), and drag the mouse along the recording bar to side 2, about 35:25 minutes in.  It’s a little complicated, but instructions are there.  The person interviewed who spoke about my father got a number of the facts wrong, but it was still very moving to me to hear from someone who knew him long before I was born (and in fact was bar mitzvah on the day my dad came to Brookline for his audition).  And then, of course, to hear  him chant reminds us that although Jewish liturgical has moved, by necessity, to a new place, there is something magical about the great hazzanut of yesteryear. (If you want to hear more, you can also hear some of my dad’s music that I’ve collected here).

Speaking of Shabbat morning, tomorrow I’ll be continuing my series of Learners’ Shabbats, where a key theme of contemporary Jewish life is wedded to both the portion of the week and a prayer from the liturgy.  Tomorrow’s theme is Love, Unity and the Tabernacle – as we’ll look at the Sh’ma and the portion of Terumah, exploring themes of Jewish unity and God’s Oneness.  One, we’ll discover, is definitely not the loneliest number.  You can get a sneak peak at the parsha packet here.  And you can also look back last week’s packet, on the topic Commandment and Choice: How should Post-Modern Jews Relate to Jewish Law? part one is here and click here for part two.


And speaking about send-offs, this evening at Kabbalat Shabbat services we’ll have a send-off of sorts for Pete Seeger, who died this week.  Among his many other his contributions, he brought Israel to the forefront of American popular imagination in a very positive ways, back in the 1950s.  His relationship with Israel later became more complicated, but through his efforts, an Israeli song actually made it up to #2 on the American charts in 1950. 

Now, for my annual Super Bowl Prediction (Using Jewish Sources):

It’s not easy for me to make my Jewish Super Bowl prediction this year, still in mourning for my New England Patriots. But since I’ve almost always been right, as a public service I must meet the challenge. 

So who will it be: Broncos or Seahawks?

Let’s start with geography. I’ve always liked Seattle, and the Native American leader Chief Seattle was known for his pearls of environmental wisdom.  But not even the lovely Cascades can beat the Rockies for sheer natural beauty.  But it’s not just about mountains.  When Gershwin wrote “the Rockies may tumble, Gibraltar may crumble, they're only made of clay; but our love is here to stay,” he was paraphrasing Isaiah 54:10: “For the mountains may depart, and the hills be removed; but My kindness shall not depart from you.”  Was God speaking to Bronco fans in that verse? 

Or how about this?  In Joshua 24, we read that Joshua was buried north of Mount Ga’ash, which was known to be a volcano.  Seattle is situated north of North America’s most famous volcano, Mount St. Helens. It so happens that Ga’ash today is known as a nude beach north of Tel Aviv.  Seattle, like Israel, has nude beaches (sorry, no hyperlink.  Just trust me, it does).  Denver doesn’t have nude beaches.  So the needle seems to be leaning Seahawks here. 

Since both teams come from states that have legalized marijuana, neither gets the edge derived from Genesis 9:3, where God says, “Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you. And as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything.” 

Coffee?  Howard Schultz, owner of Starbucks, is Jewish.  But there is no Starbucks Haggadah. That honor is reserved for Maxwell House, and there’s a Maxwell’s Coffee House in Denver.  Plus Golda Meir once lived in Denver and she was known to drink a dozen cups of coffee a day.  But she is best known for fixing a steamiong pot of tea for guestsJewish folklore favors tea.  Jewish history favors Golda.  Edge to the Broncos. 

Oh yes, and there are also more Jews in Denver than Seattle.  Another plus for the Broncs.

There is to my knowledge no “seahawk” in the bible, but hawks do appear.  In Leviticus, chapter 11, the hawk is listed among unkosher birds.  Interestingly, the hawk is listed just below the raven and indeed, the Ravens won last year’s Super Bowl.   

The Eagles also appear there, both before and after, possibly indicating that while the Eagles would GET to the big game before the Seahawks, which they did, they wouldn’t win it until later, which, if Seattle wins this week, will indeed be true.

Hawk in Hebrew is “Netz.” (I thought they played in Brooklyn!)  Commentaries about the bird focus on its blinding speed.  And if we are comparing the two quarterbacks in this game, the Seahawks hold a definitive speed edge. 

The rabbis commented on the hawk’s keen eyesight, saying in the Talmud, “It can live in Babylon and see everything that people are doing wrong in the land of Israel.”  That speaks to excellent scouting and Seattle’s superior pass defense to stop long range throws.

As for the Broncos.  Horses don’t typically do well in water - unless they are seahorses, of course.  A few weeks ago in the Torah, we chanted the triumphant Song of the Sea… triumphant for Israelites, I should clarify, but not good for horses. 

 “Ashira L’Adonai Ki Gaoh Ga’ah,” it begins, “(“I will sing to God, who has triumphed gloriously,” “Soos v’rochvo ramah va’yam” (“Horse and driver have been hurled into the Sea”).  Considering the fact that the game is taking place in the Jersey swamps, it is tempting to toss in all the cards at this point and proclaim that the Seahawks will sink Denver in a rout.  

Especially when you figure in how “Ga’ah sounds like “Ga’ash” and there are no nude beaches in Denver.

But the Broncos were incredibly impressive in their win over my Patriots (sigh) two weeks ago.  And there are some positive signs in our sources.

There is even a biblical character (Numbers 13) whose last name is “Soosi.”  The root meaning of “soos,”(horse)  incidentally, is “swift,” which pretty much describes the Broncos, both offensively and defensively.  They are built for speed.

 According to an online concordance, the word soos appears 283 times in the Bible. With the land of Israel being so mountainous, horses were not as useful as mules and oxen and therefore not as plentiful as they were in flatter places, like Egypt and Arabia.  On the plain, horses and chariots were formidable, but you can ask the Canaanite general Sisera how things went once it got hilly and wet.  Or ask Pharaoh.  And they never had to play in the swamps of New Jersey.

Bottom line – a wet, muddy field favors Seattle.  A snowy field all the more.

Typically, horses are seen as instruments of war, typically employed by the enemies of Israel See (Deut 20:1) Despite their threatening status (and how often in history have Jews been chased down by the horses of Cossacks, Roman soldiers and Crusaders), they are also admired, especially for their speed (see Isaiah 30:16).  Clearly, the biblical authors were aware of the Broncos’ lightning fast attack.  Horses are also symbols of dignity and honor (Esther 6:11).  Think of that scene in the book of Esther when Mordechai, not Haman, got to ride through town on horseback – one of those great “gotcha” moments in Jewish history.  

But a horse is also a symbol of vanity and false hopes.  Psalm 33;17 is rather indicative of the Broncos’ recent history:  “A horse is a false hope for victory; Nor does it deliver anyone by its great strength.” 

So, what will happen on Sunday?

Check Job 39:26: “Does the hawk fly by your wisdom, and stretch her wings toward the south? 

The numerical equivalent of the word “netz” (hawk) is 140.  That is equivalent to the word “koom,” “arise” (without the vowel).   Perhaps the numerical equivalence is hinting at something here. The Hawks will arise late in the game – and it might come down to whether the Seahawks are headed toward the south side of the field in the fourth quarter.

Interestingly, only a few verses earlier in Job, in verse 39:20, we read: “Have you given the horse his strength? Have you clothed his neck with fierceness?”  Could this juxtaposition of hawk and horse verses be the Bible’s way of informing us their positioning on the scoreboard, that the hawks will score 26 and the horses 20?  If you need more proof, check out verse 18: “When the time cometh, she raises her wings on high, and scorns the horse and his rider.”

And how will it end?

In Hebrew, the name of Seattle’s quarterback, Russell, is an acronym for sergeant. With military precision and a strong ground game, Wilson will lead the Seahawks down the field for a go ahead score late in the fourth quarter. 

The Hebrew word Peyton (“pie-tan”) means “poet,” or the composer of a prayer (a piyyut).  So Denver’s Manning will throw up a prayer in the game’s final seconds, a “hail Mary,” as it were.

It will fall incomplete.  Horse and driver will be hurled into the swamp.

Only one thing can save them.  The Talmud prescribes a magical amulet where suspending the tail of a fox between the eyes of a horse wards off evil. In order to win, then, Bronco coach John Fox must head to the end zone before the game and squat between the eyes of the Bronco logo.  Apparently, only the coach’s tush can save the team.

Otherwise, I’ll go with the Joban verse discrepancy and say that the final score will be 26-20, Seahawks.


…of course it must be stated that in no way do I condone gambling, and past performance should not be an indicator of future results

Friday, January 24, 2014

Shabbat-O-Gram January 24

Join us for Kabbalat Shabbat at 7:30 this evening, where Cantor Mordecai will share reflections from the recent Jewish renewal conference that he attended.  Shabbat morning we have a full array of programming for kids of all ages, with Hebrew School and Day School students invited to partake in our Israeli-themed in-house Shabbaton (complete with edible maps of Israel and human Israeli Monopoly) plus our monthly Shabbirthday. For adults, I’ll be continuing my current series of Learner’s Shabbats where we combine a prayer and the portion, exploring shared, relevant themes.  This week:  Commandment and Choice: How should Post-Modern Jews Relate to Jewish Law? Portion: Mishpatim; Prayer: Ahava Rabbah.  If you would like a sneak preview of the Parsha Packet, see part one here and click here for part two.

All of that will be followed by a delicious HOT lunch!

Great news #1:
Birthright Israel has expanded eligibility for its free 10-day trips to Israel for Jewish young adults ages 18-26. Teenagers who went on an educational trip to Israel during high school (or 8th grade) were previously not eligible for Birthright trips, but can now participate. Click here for the full article.

Great news #2:
Kosh is reincarnating, with a new name, a new menu and, God willing, new prices.  Or new kosher restaurant in town will be called “Six Thirteen” and is opening on Feb.3.  Check out their website.


Judaism’s Mulligan Month

How often have we heard that familiar refrain this past year: "My, the holidays are early." Ever since Passover snuck in like a lamb last March, the crescendo has been building. With Rosh Hashanah linked to Labor Day and Chanukah to Thanksgiving, the cry continued for months on end.  But now, it’s about to change. The month of Adar, which begins next week January, will replicate itself a month later and we’ll get back to normal.  Except then, everything will be deemed "late." 

During Jewish leap years, Adar is our Mulligan Month, an entire month that we get to do over. Yahrzeits can get confusing (ask me if you have a question), and Purim is always in Adar 2, but otherwise, we’ll have two of all things Adar.  Since Adar is our most joyous month, we get a double dose of happiness, just what the doctor ordered in the midst of a brutal winter.  Adar will be doubly good, and Purim will be late.

With our brains and bodies stuck on the monotonous, relentless tick of secular time, it's natural to wonder if the Jewish holidays ever fall on schedule. But when life sways to the rhythms of the Jewish calendar, the question never arises. For most, the idea of Jewish time has more to do with tardy board meetings than an intricate e system of ritual, emotion and instruction affixed to the cycles of nature. The hour has come for Jews to begin living on Jewish time. That venerated goal of Jewish continuity can hardly be served when our peak religious experiences are always being measured in secular seconds. Until we begin thinking of Rosh Hashanah as neither early or late, but right on target -- two months after Tisha b'Av and half a year from Passover – we're grafting Judaism artificially into a corner of our beings. For Judaism to breathe, it must be lived on its own terms, on its own schedule.

That said, so nu, why were the holidays so early this year?

Since you asked, yes, it's true, Rosh Hashanah hadn't fallen this early on the secular calendar in quite some time; 19 years to be exact. It was 1994 when it last began on Sept. 5, and here's why. The rabbis calculated the lunar month to be 29 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes and 3.33 seconds (and they were less than a half a second off).

The year consists of 12 of those months, or approximately 354 days. With the secular, solar calendar lasting 365 days, the lunar calendar falls 11 days behind the solar -- one each year. The rabbis figured that an additional month should be added seven times in each 19-year cycle in order to keep agricultural festivals in their seasons. Passover must come in the spring and Sukkot in the fall (unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere, but let's not complicate things). The sages actually were a little off in these calculations, or Passover would be celebrated in June. Fortunately, that's one of those problems we can afford to leave to subsequent generations, like the national debt and the location of Jimmy Hoffa.

The extra month is added during the winter of the third, sixth, eighth, 11th, 14th, 17th and 19th years of the cycle. Notice that leap years are usually three years apart, but occasionally two. Since we're now in the 17th year of the cycle, we've gone nine years since the last two-year interval (years 6 and 8).  That means we've had fewer leap years recently, therefore we've been losing more days to the secular calendar.  The 17th year always has the earliest Rosh Hashanah, and the ninth year (because it's preceded by the greatest frequency of leap years) the latest. Get it? Sorry you asked?

Now isn't it so much easier just to live on Jewish time rather than trying to understand it? How often do we ask ourselves about the logic of the secular calendar, which has a new year that occurs when nothing at all is changing and new days begin at an arbitrary hour when few are awake to appreciate it? Give me a calendar that asks us to turn inward just as the weather outside is nudging us precisely in that direction, one that expels us from winter's hibernation to the pulsating poetry of "Song of Songs" and the drama of national release, and one that always promises the moon's return to ripeness, no matter how dark things seem.

For inhabitants of secular time, the only dilemmas occur when July 4 doesn't create a three-day weekend or Christmas falls on a Sunday. When do they collect garbage? When can they play football? When can we shop?

Speaking of football, the only thing that compares to the rhythm of the Jewish year, with all its rituals and pageantry, is the American sports calendar.  As a young boy growing up in the Boston area, fall meant three things: playing football, stuffing those delicious marble cake slices from the synagogue Sukkah into my jacket pocket and watching someone other than the Red Sox win the World Series. Spring meant sneaking out of school to attend opening day at Fenway, usually with a matzah sandwich crumbling in my book bag.

Seasonal rituals don't normally die easily – they still have May Day parades in Moscow – because we need them as a constant by which to measure our years. We need the Seder table as a gauge of how the family has evolved, to see who is sitting where this year. Our lives spin around these sacred moments.

It's really not so difficult to convert over to Jewish time. It's not like Celsius or kilometers or changing dollars to shekels. There's a very easy way to integrate the Jewish calendar into the rhythm of your life: Go out and buy one. Or go to Hebcal.com and download it. 

When you do, something remarkable will begin to happen. Your moods will shift and undulate, responding to events that occurred centuries ago. Holidays will arrive neither early nor late, and each week will flow into Shabbat none too soon.

And what is Jewish continuity but the transmission of the cadences of Jewish life from one generation to the next? I am often asked, will the American Jewish community be around in the next century? To which I respond: Sure. The next century is only 26 years away: 5800.  And there is one other thing that is certain. As long as there are any Jews left on this planet, meetings will still begin 15 minutes late. 

Abortion, Israeli Style

You can set your watches to the fact that if it’s an election year, abortion will be in the news.  This week’s 41st anniversary of Roe v. Wade brought out the usual suspects: marchers, litigators and pontificators, and pollsters indicating that the issue remains deeply divisive.

But recent days have also brought about a major liberalizing shift in Israeli policy on abortion.  The “health basket” of medical services offered by Israel’s health services now includes free abortions for all women ages 20-33, regardless of the circumstances.  Imagine how that decision would play out over here!  But over there, where universal healthcare has long been the norm (they don’t call it Bibi-Care but maybe B-G care, since it’s been around since Ben Gurion), this is no big deal.

Until now, government-funded abortions have been reserved for women younger than 19 or older than 40, and in cases where the fetus has a severe defect, the mother’s life is endangered, or the pregnancy is a result of sexual abuse. If a woman believed the pregnancy would cause her harm, physically or emotionally, she had had to pay for the procedure herself. 

So now we are talking not only about abortion being legal, which is not new, but a broad allowance for government funded ones.  In many ways, the health services are more progressive there on abortion than on contraception (which is a problem, because abortion then becomes a form of contraception).  The process of obtaining permission to utilize government funding is somewhat problematic, as women need to appear before a three person panel.  But the panel allows the abortion in 98% of the cases.

So, you ask, how can this be happening in a country known for having a powerful ultra-Orthodox lobby that hardly can be called progressive in its views on social issues and women’s rights?  A subject that drives Americans batty barely registers on Israel’s “politics basket” of hot button issues. The prime Israel anti-abortion organization, Efrat, in fact, derives much of its funding from Christian groups in America. (You can see one fo Efrat’s billboards and hear an excellent discussion about this on “The Promised Podcast.”)
There is no local traction.  The rabbinical establishment has been strangely silent on this decision, offering lukewarm resistance at best. 

The tepid response of Ultra-Orthodox Israelis demonstrates precisely why abortion is first and foremost a church-state issue here in America, and why the erosion of Roe- v. Wade a real threat to the religious freedoms of Jews. 

In the words of  Rabbi Benny Lau, a religious Zionist activist, resisting the idea that abortion is murder, “Taking our Torah in the direction of Christian Catholic canon law is a terrible mistake."  You will not see anything equating abortion to murder on the Efrat site or anywhere in the conversation.  That’s because for Judaism, abortion isn’t murder.


Judaism does not categorically approve or disapprove of abortion. Jewish law does not consider a fetus to be a human being; thus it actually requires abortions when a pregnant woman’s life is in danger. Jewish authorities disagree on whether to extend the permissibility of abortion to situations where the pregnancy or birth is psychologically but not physically dangerous. Those who allow for abortion in such cases disagree on how far to extend this permissibility. Most of these authorities allow abortion in cases of incest or rape and cases where the fetus is affected with a terminal genetic disease such as Tay-Sachs. Other authorities extend permissibility further and may include cases where the fetus has a non-terminal genetic defect or even situations where the mere fact of pregnancy and anticipated childbirth is a threat to the mother’s mental health.


The Jewish view happens to be derived from a passage in this week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, a case study where a fight breaks out between two men and a third party, a pregnant woman, is harmed and she miscarries.  This is not considered a case of manslaughter or murder, which led the Talmudic sages to conclude that the embryo/fetus is not yet a human life.  Because of that, the life of the mother always must take precedence. 


So that’s why, abortion is much more prevalent in the Jewish State.  And why we should be wary of those groups who want to impose their definition of when life begins - on us all.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Judaism's Mulligan Month

How often have we heard that familiar refrain this past year: "My, the holidays are early." Ever since Passover snuck in like a lamb last March, the crescendo has been building. With Rosh HaShanah linked to Labor Day and Chanukah to Thanksgiving the cry continued for months on end.  But now, it’s about to change. The month of Adar, which begins on the last day of January, will replicate itself on March 1 and we’ll get back to normal. Except then, everything will be deemed "late."

During Jewish leap years, Adar is our Mulligan Month, an entire month that we get to do over. Yahrzeits can get confusing (ask me if you have a question), and Purim is always in Adar 2, but otherwise, we’ll have two of all things Adar.  Since Adar is our most joyous month, we get a double dose of happiness, just what the doctor ordered in the midst of a brutal winter.  Adar will be doubly good, and Purim will be late.

With our brains and bodies stuck on the monotonous, relentless tick of secular time, it's natural to wonder if the Jewish holidays ever fall on schedule. But when life sways to the rhythms of the Jewish calendar, the question never arises. For most, the idea of Jewish time has more to do with tardy board meetings than an intricate system of ritual, emotion and instruction affixed to the cycles of nature. The hour has come for Jews to begin living on Jewish time. That venerated goal of Jewish continuity can hardly be served when our peak religious experiences are always being measured in secular seconds. Until we begin thinking of Rosh HaShanah as neither early or late, but right on target -- two months after Tisha b'Av and half a year from Passover -- we're grafting Judaism artificially into a corner of our beings. For Judaism to breathe, it must be lived on its own terms, on its own schedule.

That said, so nu, why were the holidays so early this year?

Since you asked, yes, it's true, Rosh HaShanah hadn't fallen this early on the secular calendar in quite some time; 19 years to be exact. It was 1994 when it last began on Sept. 5, and here's why. The rabbis calculated the lunar month to be 29 days, 12 hours, 44 minutes and 3.33 seconds (and they were less than a half a second off).

The year consists of 12 of those months, or approximately 354 days. With the secular, solar calendar lasting 365 days, the lunar calendar falls 11 days behind the solar -- one each year. The rabbis figured that an additional month should be added seven times in each 19-year cycle in order to keep agricultural festivals in their seasons. Passover must come in the spring and Sukkot in the fall (unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere, but let's not complicate things). The sages actually were a little off in these calculations, or Passover would be celebrated in June. Fortunately, that's one of those problems we can afford to leave to subsequent generations, like the national debt and the location of Jimmy Hoffa.

The extra month is added during the winter of the third, sixth, eighth, 11th, 14th, 17th and 19th years of the cycle. Notice that leap years are usually three years apart, but occasionally two. Since we're now in the 17th year of the cycle, we've gone nine years since the last two-year interval (years 6 and 8). That means we've had fewer leap years recently, therefore we've been losing more days to the secular calendar. The 17th year always has the earliest Rosh HaShanah, and the ninth year (because it's preceded by the greatest frequency of leap years) the latest. Get it? Sorry you asked?

Now isn't it so much easier just to live on Jewish time rather than trying to understand it? How often do we ask ourselves about the logic of the secular calendar, which has a new year that occurs when nothing at all is changing and new days begin at an arbitrary hour when few are awake to appreciate it? Give me a calendar that asks us to turn inward just as the weather outside is nudging us precisely in that direction, one that expels us from winter's hibernation to the pulsating poetry of "Song of Songs" and the drama of national release, and one that always promises the moon's return to ripeness, no matter how dark things seem.

For inhabitants of secular time, the only dilemmas occur when July 4 doesn't create a three-day weekend or Christmas falls on a Sunday. When do they collect garbage? When can they play football? When can we shop?

Speaking of football, the only thing that compares to the rhythm of the Jewish year, with all its rituals and pageantry, is the American sports calendar. As a young boy growing up in the Boston area, fall meant three things: playing football, stuffing those delicious marble cake slices from the synagogue sukkah into my jacket pocket and watching someone other than the Red Sox win the World Series (things have changed!). Spring meant sneaking out of school to attend opening day at Fenway, usually with a matzah sandwich crumbling in my book bag.

Seasonal rituals don't normally die easily -- they still have May Day parades in Moscow -- because we need them as a constant by which to measure our years. We need the Seder table as a gauge of how the family has evolved, to see who is sitting where this year. Our lives spin around these sacred moments.


It's really not so difficult to convert over to Jewish time. It's not like Celsius or kilometers or changing dollars to shekels. There's a very easy way to integrate the Jewish calendar into the rhythm of your life: Go out and buy one. Or go to Hebcal.com and download it.

When you do, something remarkable will begin to happen. Your moods will shift and undulate, responding to events that occurred centuries ago. Holidays will arrive neither early nor late, and each week will flow into Shabbat none too soon.

And what is Jewish continuity but the transmission of the cadences of Jewish life from one generation to the next? I am often asked, will the American Jewish community be around in the next century? To which I respond: Sure. The next century is only 26 years away - 5800.  And there is one other thing that is certain. As long as there are any Jews left on this planet, meetings will still begin 15 minutes late.  

Friday, January 17, 2014

Shabbat-O-Gram January 17



Shabbat Shalom

We had an amazing Tu B’Shevat here this week, topped off by Tuesday’s showing of ”Journey of the Universe,” a film that took our breath away.  We had nearly fifty here, including several from other faith groups.  If you haven’t seen it, put it on your bucket list. It will change your life, melding the scientific and the spiritual to create what one critic called “a new mythology for our new millennium.” 

Check out the photos from this week’s Religious School Tu B’Shevat activities including a fun Seder last Sunday for the younger grades and yesterday’s “Top Chef” spectacular for the older grades.  I’ve heard it on good authority that some students with alternate activities actually are pleading with their parents to let them come to Hebrew School this year.  Check the album again later on for new photos.

I had the pleasure of teaching about Tu B’Shevat and Jewish sustainability in several locales this week, including Bi Cultural Day School, where I enjoyed an hour speaking with the 6th and 8th grades.  The kids asked great questions and demonstrated deep insight into Jewish sources and environmental sensibilities. See my handout on Tu B’Shevat and Jewish Sustainability, featuring key biblical and rabbinic passages as well as charts detailing why and how we need to get back to Carbon 350.




Dr King, Religious Integrity and Social Justice: “And None Shall Make Them Afraid”

On this MLK weekend, we recall Dr. King’s 1963 Letter from a Birmingham Jail.  In it he describes what he perceived as a lukewarm role of most religious leaders to the burgeoning civil rights movement.  Here’s what he wrote:

Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? …I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the South on tortuous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been dismissed from their churches, have lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers. But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.

These days, thankfully, more people in the Jewish community have come to understand the prophetic role of religion in fighting just causes.  For many, it is the legacy of Abraham Joshua Heschel, nearly as much as that of Martin Luther King, that inspires us. Jews were very active in the Civil Rights movement back then and continue to fight hard for equal rights now in numerous ways.  As I’ve pointed out elsewhere, one of the most telling revelations of the recent Pew report is that Jews remain as committed as ever toward fighting bigotry against all groups, not merely our own.  But we also must recall that, 150 years ago, most Jews in the South supported slavery.   Some even advocated its expansion.

We need to celebrate the courage of those who stood up for principle at times even at the risk of their careers and their lives.  People like Rabbi Ira Sanders of Little Rock, who testified before the Arkansas Senate against pending segregationist bills. Rabbi Perry Nussbaum of Jack­son, Mississippi, also courageously lent his support to the integration effort, as did Rabbis Jacob Rothschild of Atlanta, Emmet Frank of Alexandria, and Charles Mantingand of Birmingham.  These, unfortunately, were the exception to the rule.

Nussbaum at first spoke sparingly about segregation, knowing that he was at odds with most of his congregants on the subject.  But once the Freedom Riders arrived from the north in 1961, many of whom were Jewish, he could no longer stand on the sidelines. Taking a stand had severe consequences: both his synagogue and his home were bombed by the KKK.  Nussbaum initially tried to leave Jackson but in the end elected to stay.  

We all need to ask ourselves what we would have done in that situation, both as rabbis and as congregants.  I can only imagine the congregational meeting that followed the bombing in Jackson, or the famous Temple Bombing in Atlanta in 1958.  In Atlanta, fortunately, the community rallied to the congregation’s support, and the rabbi refused to be intimidated. The next week’s sermon was posted on the Temple’s front lawn early Monday.  It was entitled, "And None Shall Make Them Afraid."

In comparison to what those Jews faced, our task is much easier.  Hatred and injustice still exist, but history’s currents are flowing strongly the other way. For Jews, especially, racism should be long since over.

Still, we constantly need to be reminded to stand up for the weakest in our society, even if that stand is unpopular.   And rabbis have to lead rather than follow the rabble.  We cannot afford to stand on the sidelines.


A character in Nathan Englander’s short story “Camp Sundown” put it best, “The turning away of the head is the same as turning the knife.” 

For Jews, passivity is not an option.  

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Cockadoodle Doo-B'Shevat: A Primal Awakening - A Moral Calling



I woke up this morning to the sound of a rooster - two actually - perched atop the Beth El Mitzvah Garden. Minutes before my alarm normally awakens me to "Traffic on the Eights," this little guy gave me his "Kukuricu" on the twos.  With Tu B'Shevat a few days away, I thought of the old pioneer song, Koom Bachur Atzel - "Get up, lazy boy,  get up and go out to work; Cock-a-doodle-doo a rooster called out."


Before popping into Morning Minyan, I recorded their prayer.



For the very first prayer of the morning service mentions the rooster, praising God for granting the rooster the instinctual knowledge to distinguish day from night.  The Talmud (Brachot 60) states that when one hears the rooster crow, s/he should say "ha-notayn l'sechvi bina." In fact we're supposed to say it even if we don't hear that crow.  This is the first time I've ever walked into services and said that prayer, having just heard the rooster say it himself.

Sadly, many prayer books have removed the word "rooster" from the translation, an indication of how removed we've become from the original texture of our prayers - and from the intimate connection our pre-industrial ancestors had to the natural world around them. Tu B'shevat reminds us of the need to reverse that trend.  

So why, of all creatures, is the rooster so significant in Jewish liturgy and Hebrew folklore? The rabbis were taking their cues from Job 38:36, an amazing, vivid chapter, where God speaks to Job out of the whirlwind and asks “Who put wisdom in remote places, or who gave understanding to a rooster?”

Roosters have come to symbolize many things for different cultures, ranging from courage in Japan (also true for Jews, who link a name for rooster, gever, to gevurah, heroism) to fidelity in China, to good luck in Portugal and in France, it symbolizes, well, France.

Some Jews twirl them before Yom Kippur (though many authorities discourage this inhumane act), the roosters red color reminiscent of the red cord tied to the scape goat bearing the people’s sins.  For Marc Chagall, roosters seem to symbolize masculine fertility, the artist’s fiery spirit and the vivid memories of his shtetl upbringing in Vitebsk.  Perek Shira chapter 4, a mystical account using biblical passages to demonstrate how all of creation praises God, the rooster arouses the trees of Eden to scatter their spices and in doing so he arouses God Godself to praise Creation. Roosters and Jews share a lot, it seems, including dizzying destinies and blood-red memories of a simpler world that is no more.



What else might roosters symbolize?

Maybe this story from Nachman of Bratzlav can give us a hint:

Once upon a time there was a little boy who became convinced that he was a rooster. He removed his clothes, huddled under the table, refused to eat anything but rooster food, and communicated by clucking. His parents were beside themselves. They called doctors, teachers, friends, and family, but nobody could convince the boy to abandon his rooster-like ways. Finally, wringing their hands, they called the Rebbe. The Rebbe assessed the situation, and declared that he could cure the boy, though his method may be unorthodox. The parents quickly assented. The Rebbe proceeded to take off his clothes, huddle under the table, eat rooster food, and cluck. After some time, the Rebbe said to the boy: “I’m cold. What if we put on some human clothes?” The boy responded, “But we’re roosters!” The Rebbe replied, “We can be roosters who wear human clothes!” The boy considered this for a moment, and concluded, “Fine. That sounds reasonable.” They put on clothes. More time passed. The Rebbe said to the boy, “I don’t like this food. What if we ate some human food?” The boy responded, “But we’re roosters!” The Rebbe replied, “We can be roosters who eat human food.” The boy decided, “Fine. That is reasonable.” And so it went with the huddling under the table, and so, at last, it went with the clucking. The boy was cured. 

Much like the shofar, the rooster's crow awakens us, but unlike the shofar, the primal sound comes not from human effort, but from a more mysterious and ancient source, one that connects us deeply to nature at our most vulnerable moment, the moment of arousal from sleep. it forces us to deal with nature on its own terms, not on ours.  We can't manipulate that call.  We can't distort it.  We are too vulnerable at that moment to do anything planned or remotely conscious. We can only respond to it.  It is impossible to manipulate this call, to mold it to our ends.

Nachman's story tells us that we should respond to other human beings in the same way - on their own terms, not by imposing our standards on them, but by getting down (or up) to their level and accepting them as they are.  By connecting.  By loving unconditionally.  By trusting.  

That is why the rooster possesses a truer, deeper wisdom than we have, the wisdom not of the brain but of the heart (and indeed some translate the word "sechvi" as heart, rather than rooster).

That is also the wisdom that is embedded in Jewish prayer.  It takes a common cliche, "as different as night and day," filters it through the prism of nature and instinct, and transforms it into a moral calling.  We need to be able to distinguish between goodness and evil as instinctually as the rooster determines night from day.  The rooster knows that distinction so well that he can welcome the day well before the sun rises.  We need to have a similar radar that can enable us to respond to the call of  Psalm 34, "Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it," even before our eyes have fully opened.

Meanwhile, how many of you city slickers have ever awakened in your own beds to the sound of the rooster?  It's way cooler than "Traffic on the Eights."


Friday, January 3, 2014

Four Hundred Years a Slave (Times of Israel)


Deputy religious services minister Rabbi Eli Ben-Dahan‘s attitude regarding the superiority of Jewish souls is, unfortunately, not so rare among certain Jewish groups, in Israel and elsewhere.  But that does not make it right.
But neither is it right for the rest of us to have become so numb to this evil, far too accepting of outright racism in the name of some tribal compulsion that demands that we hush up about anything that might make us appear disloyal to any Israeli leader. 
Last week I saw the highly acclaimed film, “Twelve Years a Slave,” Solomon Northup’s searing account of his twelve years in southern chains.  In “Schindler’s List” fashion, this movie pulls no punches in showing how America’s “peculiar institution” corrupted everything in its wake.  No one was immune to this plague.  Even the victims became numb to the suffering of others while they struggled to maintain their humanity.  One leaves this film wondering aloud whether the American experiment was worth starting at all, given the compromises that had to be made regarding slavery right from the outset.  Did the ends of having a nation freed of British rule justify the means, perpetuating this abhorrence of rendering human beings subhuman?
Some movies leave you hanging.  In one excruciating scene, as the main character literally is left hanging, everyone goes about their lives as if nothing is going on, as if a man isn’t writhing in pain just in front of them (you can read it here, scrolling down to p.115).  It is as powerful an indictment of slavery as you will ever see.  And as such, it is an indictment against America itself.  Are there actually people who still wave the Confederate flag proudly?  Are there actually people who look nostalgically back to the yore of Dixie?  Was this exemplary country actually responsible for that crime against humanity? 
We need to look our failings squarely in the eye. 
Jews were slaves in Egypt, according to tradition, for four hundred years (though there is inconsistency in the Torah as to the exact duration).  That’s a lot more than twelve.  And in that time, we picked up some bad habits.  In this week’s portion, the Israelites gain their freedom at last, but not without moral dilemmas of their own – Moses and God are both implicated in some questionable acts, such as deceiving Pharaoh, the despoiling of the Egyptians and the mass carnage at the Red Sea. Four hundred years of slavery sensitized us to the plight of the other, but didn’t immunize from the toxicity of power.
And if you needed any proof, just listen to Ben-Dahan.
You can read Solomon Northup’s entire book online.  Here is a brief excerpt, which brings me to tears just to cut/paste it.  Who among us can call ourselves a civilized human being and not be overcome by shame?
Finally, he ceased whipping from mere exhaustion, and ordered Phebe to bring a bucket of salt and water. After washing her thoroughly with this, I was told to take her to her cabin. Untying the ropes, I raised her in my arms. She was unable to stand, and as her head rested on my shoulder, she repeated many times, in a faint voice scarcely perceptible, “Oh, Platt-oh, Platt!” but nothing further. Her dress was replaced, but it clung to her back, and was soon stiff with blood. We laid her on some boards in the hut, where she remained a long time, with eyes closed and groaning in agony. At night Phebe applied melted tallow to her wounds, and so far as we were able, all endeavored to assist and console her. Day after day she lay in her cabin upon her face, the sores preventing her resting in any other position.
A blessed thing it would have been for her-days and weeks and months of misery it would have saved her-had she never lifted up her head in life again. Indeed, from that time forward she was not what she had been. The burden of a deep melancholy weighed heavily on her spirits. She no longer moved with that buoyant and elastic step-there was not that mirthful sparkle in her eyes that formerly distinguished her. The bounding vigor-the sprightly, laughter-loving spirit of her youth, were gone. She fell into a mournful and desponding mood, and often times would start up in her sleep, and with raised hands, plead for mercy. She became more silent than she was, toiling all day in our midst, not uttering a word. A care-worn, pitiful expression settled on her face, and it was her humor now to weep, rather than rejoice. If ever there was a broken heart- one crushed and blighted by the rude grasp of suffering misfortune-it was Patsey’s.
She had been reared no better than her master’s beast-looked upon merely as a valuable and handsome animal-and consequently possessed but a limited amount of knowledge. And yet a faint light cast its rays over her intellect, so that it was not wholly dark. She had a dim perception of God and of eternity, and a still more dim perception of a Saviour who had died even for such as her. She entertained but confused notions of a future life-not comprehending the distinction between the corporeal and spiritual existence. Happiness, in her mind, was exemption from stripes-from labor-from the cruelty of masters and overseers. Her idea of the joy of heaven was simply rest, and is fully expressed in these of a melancholy bard:
 I ask no paradise on high, 
 With cares on earth oppressed, 
 The only heaven for which I sigh, 
 Is rest, eternal rest.
We Jews have lots to teach the world about how to live by a moral code that stresses that all humans are created in God’s image.  But before we teach the world, we need to teach ourselves.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we are here.


Read more: Four Hundred Years a Slave | Joshua Hammerman | Ops & Blogs | The Times of Israel http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/four-hundred-years-a-slave/#ixzz2pSUEQ4aK
Follow us: @timesofisrael on Twitter | timesofisrael on Facebook

Shabbat-O-Gram for January 3

Shabbat-O-Gram

A snowy good afternoon to everyone.  The skies have cleared over Stamford.  I'll be "going solo" in leading tonight's Kabbalat Shabbat at 7:30.  Given the dangerously low temperatures expected outside, we'll go at a faster pace than usual to get everyone back to their warm cocoons as soon as possible.  Join us tonight and tomorrow morning too, and on Sunday at noon to hear more about the 2014 TBE Israel Adventure!  Our group projects to be about 30 people thus far - we have room for a few more!  If you've never been to Israel - or it's been a long time, now is your chance!  At the bottom of this email, I've listed 25 reasons why every Jew should visit Israel.

Looking Back at 2013 

For those who missed it in last week's O-Gram, see my Jewish Week year-end piece "The Year Inclusiveness Prevailed."  Speaking of which....

Four Hundred Years a Slave

This was a big week on the pluralism front in Israel.  You can read about a number of significant happenings, such as how for the first time in history, the state of Israel began paying the salaries of Reform rabbis, at the Religion and State in Israel blog (one of my favorite news feeds).  You'll also read there about a member of the Knesset and deputy religious services minister, Rabbi Eli Ben-Dahan (Habayit Hayehudi), who, in an interview for Ma'ariv, explained that "a Jew always has a much higher soul than a non-Jew." 

This attitude is, unfortunately not so rare among certain Jewish groups, in Israel and elsewhere.  But that does not make it right.

I suppose we can take comfort in Ben-Dahan adding that Gay Jews have 'higher souls' than gentiles.

Rabbi Reuven Hammer writes in today's Jerusalem Post:

Imagine for a moment that the religious affairs minister in some democratic country - England or Switzerland for example - were to make a public statement that "the souls of all Christians are superior to the souls of Jews." Would Israel not make a fuss? Would not the ADL and the Weisenthal Center cry out in protest? Would not Jews in that country demand the immediate resignation of such an official? 

But we Jews have become numb to this evil, far too accepting of outright racism in the name of some tribal compulsion that demands that we hush up about anything that might make us appear disloyal to any Israeli leader. 

Last week I saw the highly acclaimed film, "Twelve Years a Slave," Solomon Northup's searing account of his twelve years in southern chains.  In "Schindler's List" fashion, this movie pulls no punches in showing how America's "peculiar institution" corrupted everything in its wake.  No one was immune to this plague.  Even the victims became numb to the suffering of others even as they struggled to maintain their humanity.  One leaves this film wondering aloud whether the American experiment was worth starting at all, given the compromises that had to be made regarding slavery right from the outset.  Did the end, having a nation freed of British rule, justify the means, perpetuating this abhorrence of rendering human beings subhuman for an additional century?

Some movies leave you hanging.  In one excruciating scene, as the main character literally is left hanging, everyone goes about their lives as if nothing as if a man isn't writhing in pain just in front of them.  It is as powerful an indictment of slavery as you will ever see.  And as such, it is an indictment against America itself.  Are there actually people who still wave the Confederate flag proudly?  Are there actually people who look nostalgically back to the yore of Dixie?  Was our country actually responsible for that crime against humanity? 

We need to look our failings squarely in the eye.  "Twelve Years" does that for America, and Ari Shavit's, superb new bestseller "My Promised Land," is doing the same for Israel (while also acknowledging the difficulty of Israel's besieged position).  I recommend that each of us read Shavit's book and watch last year's Oscar-nominated film "The Gatekeepers." In the spring, I intend to lead a discussion about Shavit's book, along with Yossi Klein Halevi's new book, "Like Dreamers."  Israel grapples with the moral dilemmas posed by occupation and the security risks of giving it up.  These are enormous issues, and we American Jews need to grapple with them too.  Occupation has been morally corrosive to Israeli society, though not nearly as destructive as slavery was here or apartheid in South Africa (I saw "Mandela" too - quite a week I had!).  But corrosive nonetheless.

Jews were slaves in Egypt, according to tradition, for 400 years.  That's a lot more than twelve.  And in that time, we picked up some bad habits.  In this week's portion, the Israelites gain their freedom at last.  But not without moral dilemmas of their own - even God is implicated in some of them, such as the despoiling of the Egyptians and the mass carnage at the Red Sea.  Tomorrow at services we'll take a look at this and see also how 400 years of slavery sensitized us to the plight of the other, but didn't immunize from the toxicity of power.

And if you needed any proof, just listen to Ben-Dahan.

Reuven Hammer continues in his column:

The pernicious doctrine that Jewish souls are higher than other souls is a perversion of these Jewish teachings and should be denounced as a dangerous heresy. It is dangerous because any such teaching of superiority of one group over another leads to actions in which humans can be treated as inferior, as less than human and eventually can be disposed of as well. We have suffered from this ourselves, and teaching it to our children will only lead to Jews treating others badly, as indeed has already happened. It may be that others who held prominent positions in our governments have held the same view as Ben-Dahan, but at least they never uttered it in public. By doing so, Ben-Dahan has rendered himself persona non-grata and should have the good grace to resign. If not, he should be told to leave. We are constantly asking others to condemn those who speak disparagingly of Jews or Judaism. We have asked more than one pope to change the liturgy so as not to show Jews in a bad light. Should not we ask the same thing of ourselves and denounce any Jewish teaching that demeans non-Jews? Israel must not be in a position in which others can point to us and say, "Look what your government is teaching about non-Jews before you complain about what others are saying about you."
  
You can read Solomon Northup's entire book, here online.
  
Here is a brief excerpt, which brings me to tears just to cut/paste it.  Who among us can call ourselves American and not be overcome by shame?

Finally, he ceased whipping from mere exhaustion, and ordered Phebe to bring a bucket of salt and water. After washing her thoroughly with this, I was told to take her to her cabin. Untying the ropes, I raised her in my arms. She was unable to stand, and as her head rested on my shoulder, she repeated many times, in a faint voice scarcely perceptible, "Oh, Platt-oh, Platt!" but nothing further. Her dress was replaced, but it clung to her back, and was soon stiff with blood. We laid her on some boards in the hut, where she remained a long time, with eyes closed and groaning in agony. At night Phebe applied melted tallow to her wounds, and so far as we were able, all endeavored to assist and console her. Day after day she lay in her cabin upon her face, the sores preventing her resting in any other position.
       
A blessed thing it would have been for her-days and weeks and months of misery it would have saved her-had she never lifted up her head in life again. Indeed, from that time forward she was not what she had been. The burden of a deep melancholy weighed heavily on her spirits. She no longer moved with that buoyant and elastic step-there was not that mirthful sparkle in her eyes that formerly distinguished her. The bounding vigor-the sprightly, laughter-loving spirit of her youth, were gone. She fell into a mournful and desponding mood, and often times would start up in her sleep, and with raised hands, plead for mercy. She became more silent than she was, toiling all day in our midst, not uttering a word. A care-worn, pitiful expression settled on her face, and it was her humor now to weep, rather than rejoice. If ever there was a broken heart- one crushed and blighted by the rude grasp of suffering misfortune-it was Patsey's.
        
She had been reared no better than her master's beast-looked upon merely as a valuable and handsome animal-and consequently possessed but a limited amount of knowledge. And yet a faint light cast its rays over her intellect, so that it was not wholly dark. She had a dim perception of God and of eternity, and a still more dim perception of a Saviour who had died even for such as her. She entertained but confused notions of a future life-not comprehending the distinction between the corporeal and spiritual existence. Happiness, in her mind, was exemption from stripes-from labor-from the cruelty of masters and overseers. Her idea of the joy of heaven was simply rest, and is fully expressed in these of a melancholy bard:

                        "I ask no paradise on high, 
                        With cares on earth oppressed, 
                        The only heaven for which I sigh, 
                        Is rest, eternal rest."

We Jews have lots to teach the world about how to live by a moral code that stresses that all humans are created in God's image.  But before we teach the world, we need to teach ourselves.  That, ladies and gentlemen, is why we are here.


Journey of the Universe

Check our upcoming bulletin and other announcements for a plethora of January events. Of special note is a showing of the film "Journey of the Universe" on Jan. 14, with guest speaker Teresa Eickel of Interreligious Eco-Justice Network.  It's one of the most inspirational spiritual films I've ever seen, and yet it hardly mentions religion at all. See more information here.  

Y.A.C at T.B.E: Jan. 10 @ 6:30 
  
A wine and cheese reception for young couples, the premier event for our new Young Adult Couples group.  If you know of a young couple in our area, (member, non member, child of a member, including interfaith couples, married, unmarried, straight, gay,) let us know so we can invite them personally.  As for age range - we'll let you determine that! Our goal is to be as inclusive as possible.

Also, we've got some great Shabbat programming coming up, including a new series of Learner's Services, where a key theme of contemporary Jewish life will be wedded to both the portion of the week and a prayer from the liturgy: Shabbat Conversations: Parsha, Prayer and Purpose.  The first one is next week.

Also next week, on Friday night, we'll continue the series "This American Jewish Life, with TBE congregants sharing perspectives on their life journeys.  We'll be hearing hear from a TBE young adult who has confronted the demons of addiction and recovery.


Here are 25 reasons culled from various sources.

1) Visiting Israel takes you higher. It heightens your senses. It heightens your awareness. It heightens your sense of self. It heightens your faith. And it heightens your sense of identification with a land, thousands of miles away, a land that is so very dear to us all. Experience Jerusalem, visit Tel Aviv, float in the Dead Sea, tour the Negev, visit Safed, the highest town in Israel, one of the four holy cities of Judaism. Drive into the Galilee hills and ascend up to the Golan.

2) Meet the Family. Israel is filled with unforgettable places, but ultimately what will make this trip so special will be the people that we'll meet - the ones in the country and the ones in the group. I can think of no group with whom I would rather share these precious days than all of you.

(3) Feeling the serenity of Shabbat in Jerusalem.

(4) The sense of community that exists everywhere, from people annoyingly telling you not to cross the street on the red light (would they bother to do that here?), to the calls you get after every terror attack - to inform you, to console you, to include you.

(5) To show unity and support.

(6) Because it's our home.

(8) To get back to our "roots," smell the air and feel the dirt of our ancestors. You can feel the history come up through the soles of your feet.

(9) When I walk anywhere in the country, I always feel that I'm "home." When I've traveled anywhere else in the world, and even where I live, I'm still part of a minority. In Israel, I'm part of something much more - I belong to a vibrant, dynamic, friendly society that has made its own modern history of success.

(10) Seeing the accomplishments of the Israelis . The desert has become alive with bustling cities, and a thriving economy. Visiting Israel now becomes an important statement of support for Israel, and a denial of the philosophy that "fear" will make the Israelis leave.

(11) Everything is better in Israel. Personal relationships are very real and very caring, the air smells better, the food tastes better, the sky is clearer, the birds are happier.

(12) The shwarma at Maoz on King George Street, the shwarma at Masov Burger near the central bus station, to talk to the people who make shwarma, and to see the lambs that become shwarma.

(13) The feeling I experience at the Western Wall. All of life's idiosyncrasies become smaller when you are engulfed by what's most important and special.

(14) Eating falafel and hummus in Machaneh Yehudah on Friday.

(15) Because you haven't been there yet!

(16) To raise the spirits of the Israeli people.

(17) The Bible just comes alive.

(18) To see that Jewish people come in all colors, shapes and sizes and can hold all kinds of jobs......from doctors and lawyers, to police and street cleaners.

(19) To feel connected in the present to past and future at the same time.

(20) The scenery is unparalleled when standing at the Dead Sea (lowest point on earth) and then directly above it at the top of Masada. The unplanned tears that come down your face as you experience the pain of what was lost, but yet the hope of what will come promised through the prophets long ago. It is so awesome beyond words, that when you depart, you cannot say goodbye, only that you will be back. There is an unseen force that draws you in and assures you that you will be back again, it's where you belong, it's home.

(21) The incredible sense of unity. Being in Israel makes you feel connected to everything and every person on earth.

(22) To see true permanence. As Mark Twain said, "All things are mortal but the Jew." In Israel, you can see buildings that were around thousands of years ago, and what could easily be around thousands of years from now. In America, nothing goes back more than a few hundred years (except for a few Native American sites), but those don't compare to places that are all over Israel.

(23) Miracles occur daily.

(24) Two words: Kosher McDonalds

(25) Because WE'RE GOING! Our group is growing and waiting for YOU!  CLICK HERE for the full itinerary for next summer's TBE Israel Adventure.