We always value the repetition and review that is endemic to Jewish learning. We repeat cycles in our annual reading of Torah portions, celebrations of Jewish holidays, revisit learned material and consider ongoing review or “chazarah” as part and parcel of learning Gemara. So, this year as we celebrated Pesah, we all read the book of Shir HaShirim, the text of the greatest love poem and story of all time – that between the people of Israel and G-d, according to Rashi and classical commentators; and between a man and his beloved wife/woman according to the words of the text as read by so many. Others have suggested a variety of additional possible readings. My contention is that this is a great love story between A and B and that it is not critically important which identity we give to these two lovers. Isn’t that the sign of great poetry and literature – its potential for universal appeal and application?!
So, I was teaching the text of Shir HaShirim to a wonderful group of eleventh grade students as I have often done as part of my teaching and learning life. This year was different though. This particular group of students really grabbed on to this writing and its multitude of meanings and possibilities. As a result, my experience in this wonderful Community of Teachers and Learners (always my goal and how I see my mission as a Jewish educator – to see all of us as both teachers and learners in a community I facilitate!) was even more thoughtful and intense than in the past. We really grappled with the text in a meaningful and soulful manner. (Thank you to this wonderful group of intelligent young people!).
So, as a result of my experience as a learner with this group, I considered the love story and what is really going on. To be sure there are many issues that bother and concern commentators in terms of the language, ambiguity of voice, mixed pronouns and so much else. But this year, I had a wholly (and holy, you might say) different insight and experience. What if Shir HaShirim reflects an intentional use of mixed metaphors, ambiguous references, changed pronouns, etc. to show how in a great love relationship the point is that two realities blur into one, in a symbiotic and wonderful way so that the dividing lines between the reality of each party are blurred and in so being such, joined together. Imagine two people who love each other immensely chasing/running to meet and then their silhouette appears as if it is one entity. Where does the one begin and the other end? This is the love we strive for…. With our life partners, our soul mates (called ahavat nafshi in the text); between parents and children and in other nuclear family relations on a different level; between best friends who truly understand each other and so on. To be clear, I am speaking here of relational intimacy, not sexual or physical, necessarily.
So what does it mean to blur the lines of our separate beings for the sake of our relationships with those we truly love? Isn’t this the point of the “chase” to love and be loved; and my contention is that it is precisely this chase that is found in the words of this beautiful text. To be sure, this is hard for many people to do. Clearly, we are taught the importance of being defensive and assertive about our clear identity and to not “lose ourselves.” I don’t think that this is what is at stake. I think that if we love so much, that we are willing to let go of our expectations for the other – the one we love so dearly – to enter our reality, and instead are willing to become part of theirs, what different and richer perspectives we may have. Prepare to be amazed as well as humbled!
So to move away from the text for a moment (but clearly my intention is to return), my personal life this year has been deeply colored by my father’s ongoing health concerns. As part of a variety of physical and other manifestations, he has some dementia at this point. It is more present some days than others, due to the various complications involved with managing his complex health care needs. A few weeks ago, my husband, one of our daughters and I went to be with him and my mother in the hospital. We try to be with them as often as possible, considering the distance between where we live outside of Philadelphia and their residence in Baltimore. We entered the hospital room and it was clear that this was going to be a day of confusion on the part of my dad. At other times when I would see this, I was so overwhelmed by what was going on, I would have to leave the room and cry it out before returning. This particular day, however, this was not the case. I felt strong and ready to be there with him!
My dad was somewhat agitated and I asked him what was wrong. He replied (from his lying position in his hospital bed) that he was making omelets and that the egg shells were on his hands and he could not get rid of them. I asked him if he wanted some help. He replied that he did so I placed my hands in a cup under his and “pulled the egg shells off his hands.” We did this several times, I helped him get the bowl to stir the eggs, get the onion skins off of his hands after he “finished cutting the onions” and otherwise assisted him with this vivid culinary scene in his mind, participating in his reality and stepping out of mine. My daughter, husband and mother looked on with varying degrees of puzzlement and understanding. My dad was happy and whole for a piece of time.
Back for a moment to my eleventh grade learning group and the text we were learning.
In Shir HaShirim, chapter 7, verse 1, we read:
שׁ֤וּבִי שׁ֨וּבִי֙ הַשּׁ֣וּלַמִּ֔ית שׁ֥וּבִי שׁ֖וּבִי וְנֶחֱזֶה־בָּ֑ךְ
Return, Return, (to) the state of being complete;
Return, return, lets us gaze at you
In this part of the great love story and the chase in trying to come together, the notion is that by returning to each other and embracing each one’s reality as one and the same, there is a completeness that can only be the product of a love and a loving relationship. I felt that completeness with my father. I remember vividly as a child when my dad, with great aplomb would prepare elaborate omelets. In his mind at this moment in the hospital room, that is where he was, nurturing and loving his family. And I, his daughter, for a few minutes, was right there with him.
Return, return to the state of being complete! I now have a completely new understanding of that verse and what it teaches about love …. True love between the A and B of your choice! For me, it helped me love my dad.
Please include Kalman HaLevi Ben Rachel in your prayers. Todah Rabbah!
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
My Ongoing Confusion About Sefirah
I grew up as an observant pre-1975 Conservative Jew for whom Halacha was clearly the authority. As part of that upbringing I was acutely aware of the lack of music and celebrations between the Hagim of Pesah and Shavuot, those days known as the Counting of the Omer, or Sefirat HaOmer. This was not merely a function of my mother’s Orthodox background and the fact that she was the Morah D’atra of the home, but also the fact of the matter was that this was universally observed in our congregational community’s world.
Now, after living squarely in the center of the Orthodox community for my entire adult life, Sefirah has become quite the curious time for me. Some people only observe the restrictions with which I was brought up from after Rosh Hodesh Iyyar, others stop the restrictions at Lag B’Omer, and still others count a certain number of days. These Sephardim to this, those Ashkenazim do that. I even remember one wedding years ago on Yom HaShoah, clearly not observed at all by the Orthodox community in which the wedding was held. All I know is that I have gone to festive parties, weddings and other celebrations during a period of time that was basically quiet and void of these things when I grew up…. So, it is clearly understood that I am confused.
It is a confusion that I can, and obviously do, live with. That is not the problem. It is the lesson of this confusion that I find so curious. We actually know that if a family in our Orthodox community has a simcha and their celebration occurs on a day which is during the period of restrictive behaviors that we observe as the standard that I have known my whole life, we are able to join with them – that is to yield to their minhag, their custom, while temporarily suspending ours in order to join in the simcha, an important mitzvah in its own right. What a wonderful way to build community and to show that in the end we are all connected to each other enough that we can put aside such personally held observances, and even stringencies, dare I say.
My question is why we can not apply this to other areas of our life. We, who are so lenient on this point, which was admittedly difficult and uncomfortable for me (and I think still is to some degree), will not budge one bit on other matters, which are probably analogous, or even less profound. For example, there are specific matters of personal stringencies of Kashrut that, while important to the individual, need not be fodder for embarrassment of others in the community. The extension of what is mukseh (not to be touched for purposes of improper use) on Shabbat is one of my personal favorites. Years ago, my children and their friends were playing nicely when a neighbor really overreacted to their personal understanding of whether or not it was proper for ME to allow MY children to play with Connectix (which are yielding only temporary connections between pieces, and therefore, in our understanding do not quality as mukseh – truly a whole other discussion), but trust me, not anywhere near the cause for the reaction and concern it caused.
We are a community and I continue to believe that G-d is much more lenient on what we forego as individuals to make that community than are many members of the community. Ironically, it is these very members of the community who often have their semachot during the time that was “black out time for celebratory events” in my younger years. No problem – I am glad to celebrate with them. I just wish others would agree that it is more important to live as a whole and caring community than to not be willing to yield when G-d is!
Now, after living squarely in the center of the Orthodox community for my entire adult life, Sefirah has become quite the curious time for me. Some people only observe the restrictions with which I was brought up from after Rosh Hodesh Iyyar, others stop the restrictions at Lag B’Omer, and still others count a certain number of days. These Sephardim to this, those Ashkenazim do that. I even remember one wedding years ago on Yom HaShoah, clearly not observed at all by the Orthodox community in which the wedding was held. All I know is that I have gone to festive parties, weddings and other celebrations during a period of time that was basically quiet and void of these things when I grew up…. So, it is clearly understood that I am confused.
It is a confusion that I can, and obviously do, live with. That is not the problem. It is the lesson of this confusion that I find so curious. We actually know that if a family in our Orthodox community has a simcha and their celebration occurs on a day which is during the period of restrictive behaviors that we observe as the standard that I have known my whole life, we are able to join with them – that is to yield to their minhag, their custom, while temporarily suspending ours in order to join in the simcha, an important mitzvah in its own right. What a wonderful way to build community and to show that in the end we are all connected to each other enough that we can put aside such personally held observances, and even stringencies, dare I say.
My question is why we can not apply this to other areas of our life. We, who are so lenient on this point, which was admittedly difficult and uncomfortable for me (and I think still is to some degree), will not budge one bit on other matters, which are probably analogous, or even less profound. For example, there are specific matters of personal stringencies of Kashrut that, while important to the individual, need not be fodder for embarrassment of others in the community. The extension of what is mukseh (not to be touched for purposes of improper use) on Shabbat is one of my personal favorites. Years ago, my children and their friends were playing nicely when a neighbor really overreacted to their personal understanding of whether or not it was proper for ME to allow MY children to play with Connectix (which are yielding only temporary connections between pieces, and therefore, in our understanding do not quality as mukseh – truly a whole other discussion), but trust me, not anywhere near the cause for the reaction and concern it caused.
We are a community and I continue to believe that G-d is much more lenient on what we forego as individuals to make that community than are many members of the community. Ironically, it is these very members of the community who often have their semachot during the time that was “black out time for celebratory events” in my younger years. No problem – I am glad to celebrate with them. I just wish others would agree that it is more important to live as a whole and caring community than to not be willing to yield when G-d is!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Back to the Gemara and Lessons about why and how we learn Torah
Back to the Gemara and Lessons about why and how we learn Torah
In my ongoing Gemara learning with my son, Brian, we are approaching the end of 8a of Berachot. This week we learned the following text:
And Rabbi Chiya bar Ami said in the name of Ulla, Greater is he who derives benefit from his own labor and efforts (while showing awe for G-d) than the one who shows awe for G-d (and does not labor on his own but depends on others for sustenance). (translated from the text on Berachot 8a)
At this point, as often happens in the Gemara, Rabbi Chiya quotes texts from Tanach to amplify the point just presented. The two texts that are quoted both come to us from Tehilim, the Book of Psalms:
About the one who has great awe for G-d and does not depend on his own labor for sustenance, we read in Tehilim 112.1 that
א הַֽלְלוּיָ֨הּ ׀ אַשְׁרֵי־אִ֭ישׁ יָרֵ֣א אֶת־יְהֹוָ֑ה בְּ֝מִצְוֹתָ֗יו חָ֘פֵ֥ץ מְאֹֽד:
Happy is the person who has awe for G-d and wants greatly (to do) G-d’s commandments.
About the one who derives benefit from his own labor and efforts while showing awe for G-d (this is understood as always being part of the equation in such texts and omission is not due to lack of presence, but the fact that this awe is a given), we read in Tehilim 128.2 that
ב יְגִ֣יעַ כַּ֭פֶּיךָ כִּ֣י תֹאכֵ֑ל אַ֝שְׁרֶ֗יךָ וְט֣וֹב לָֽךְ:
You shall eat from (enjoy) the efforts (fruits) of your hands (labor); you will be happy and it will go well for you.
The text of the Gemara now shows that Rabbi Chiya points to the fact that in both cases people are happy (note the root for happiness: aleph – shin – reish), but only when one works and then depends upon and derives what he needs from this labor, do we add the blessing that “it will go well for you.” The notion is presented that the happiness will come in this world, in Olam HaZeh, while the “good” that will be his reward comes in Olam HaBa. This second blessing does not appear for the one who only depends on G-d, but does not provide for his family and himself.
Clearly this runs counter to the well known joke of an intended son-in-law who comes to his future father-in-law before the wedding. He has already indicated that his plans are to learn full time in Kollel and he does not intend to work at a profession. The father-in-law-to-be is appropriately concerned and asks him, “So, how will you pay for your home?” The young man quickly replies to this, “G-d will provide.” The father-in-law then continues to ask, “What about the food that you need to eat?” Once again, the young scholar answers, “G-d will provide.” “How will you educate your children?” persists the father-in-law with his line of questioning. Again, the same response, “G-d will provide.” This goes on for some time with the father-in-law questioning and the intended son-in-law continuing to pronounce his simple response. After the conversation the father-in-law-to-be goes to see his wife. “So, how did the conversation go,” she asks. “Great,” replies her husband, “The young man thinks I am G-d.”
This is not an empty joke based upon a theoretical situation but reflects the truth for many families in many of our communities. I distinctly remember years ago when I heard a D’var Torah by one of the Rabbaim in our community who insisted that we are responsible for the education of every child and once we finish paying for our own children, those who are paying ARE OBLIGATED to pay for the other children in the community whose families cannot (will not?! because of their choices) do so. I was extremely offended by the implications that we all understood. Namely, for those who study full time, I and the other professionals are supposed to join that father-in-law and provide. What does doing so deny my children for whom I take COMPLETE FINANCIAL responsibility and work hard to make sure that they have what they need? More importantly, what would doing so TEACH my children about not relying on their own skills and capacity to support and take care of themselves?
Now, true many will charge that the teaching cited above is Aggadic material (the stories we tell) and therefore is not weighted as much as Halachic (legal) material. In this framework, this story has little if any standing to support my case for not buying the “support our Kollel families” mentality. However, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches us that the stories we tell as part of our Jewish foundational texts are not only as important as the laws we teach but more so in that they give us a sense of the application of the laws by real people in real times. In other words, for Sacks, these stories are not devoid of Halacha but rather the activation of their practice and applications in our lives.
One does not have to go far to understand this. Remember that the Tanaim and Amoraim had professions in addition to their reputation as learners of text. They were water carriers, hewers of wood, teachers, doctors, and contributed to society as well as supported themselves and their families by a variety of means. Why is this NOT the example followed in too many (though clearly not all!) corridors of Jewish learning communities today?
Now, we return to our text at hand from Berachot 8a. The message is clear. We are to study Torah, have awe of G-d, AND understand that the best way to actualize and put these things and teachings into practice is precisely by being involved in a worldly occupation. Shimeon Bar Yochai learned this lesson when he emerged from the cave in which he was for so long and misunderstood what he saw when he observed people preparing for Shabbat by dealing with their crops and produce. As a result of not understanding that this is the way of the world and actualizing Torah in the world – namely to be involved in the world in practical ways – he was sent by G-d back into his cave. Perhaps this is the problem – too many in our communities have willfully created their own caves and refuse to be part of worldly pursuits.
It is at this point that the text of Berachot 8a comes to teach us that we have to take responsibility for ourselves. We have to provide for our families and the wellbeing of those for whom we are responsible as well as learn and show that we have awe of G-d. In fact, by taking responsibilities we ARE SHOWING our awe for G-d by taking care of ourselves and others created by G-d to whom we are directly accountable.
In my ongoing Gemara learning with my son, Brian, we are approaching the end of 8a of Berachot. This week we learned the following text:
And Rabbi Chiya bar Ami said in the name of Ulla, Greater is he who derives benefit from his own labor and efforts (while showing awe for G-d) than the one who shows awe for G-d (and does not labor on his own but depends on others for sustenance). (translated from the text on Berachot 8a)
At this point, as often happens in the Gemara, Rabbi Chiya quotes texts from Tanach to amplify the point just presented. The two texts that are quoted both come to us from Tehilim, the Book of Psalms:
About the one who has great awe for G-d and does not depend on his own labor for sustenance, we read in Tehilim 112.1 that
א הַֽלְלוּיָ֨הּ ׀ אַשְׁרֵי־אִ֭ישׁ יָרֵ֣א אֶת־יְהֹוָ֑ה בְּ֝מִצְוֹתָ֗יו חָ֘פֵ֥ץ מְאֹֽד:
Happy is the person who has awe for G-d and wants greatly (to do) G-d’s commandments.
About the one who derives benefit from his own labor and efforts while showing awe for G-d (this is understood as always being part of the equation in such texts and omission is not due to lack of presence, but the fact that this awe is a given), we read in Tehilim 128.2 that
ב יְגִ֣יעַ כַּ֭פֶּיךָ כִּ֣י תֹאכֵ֑ל אַ֝שְׁרֶ֗יךָ וְט֣וֹב לָֽךְ:
You shall eat from (enjoy) the efforts (fruits) of your hands (labor); you will be happy and it will go well for you.
The text of the Gemara now shows that Rabbi Chiya points to the fact that in both cases people are happy (note the root for happiness: aleph – shin – reish), but only when one works and then depends upon and derives what he needs from this labor, do we add the blessing that “it will go well for you.” The notion is presented that the happiness will come in this world, in Olam HaZeh, while the “good” that will be his reward comes in Olam HaBa. This second blessing does not appear for the one who only depends on G-d, but does not provide for his family and himself.
Clearly this runs counter to the well known joke of an intended son-in-law who comes to his future father-in-law before the wedding. He has already indicated that his plans are to learn full time in Kollel and he does not intend to work at a profession. The father-in-law-to-be is appropriately concerned and asks him, “So, how will you pay for your home?” The young man quickly replies to this, “G-d will provide.” The father-in-law then continues to ask, “What about the food that you need to eat?” Once again, the young scholar answers, “G-d will provide.” “How will you educate your children?” persists the father-in-law with his line of questioning. Again, the same response, “G-d will provide.” This goes on for some time with the father-in-law questioning and the intended son-in-law continuing to pronounce his simple response. After the conversation the father-in-law-to-be goes to see his wife. “So, how did the conversation go,” she asks. “Great,” replies her husband, “The young man thinks I am G-d.”
This is not an empty joke based upon a theoretical situation but reflects the truth for many families in many of our communities. I distinctly remember years ago when I heard a D’var Torah by one of the Rabbaim in our community who insisted that we are responsible for the education of every child and once we finish paying for our own children, those who are paying ARE OBLIGATED to pay for the other children in the community whose families cannot (will not?! because of their choices) do so. I was extremely offended by the implications that we all understood. Namely, for those who study full time, I and the other professionals are supposed to join that father-in-law and provide. What does doing so deny my children for whom I take COMPLETE FINANCIAL responsibility and work hard to make sure that they have what they need? More importantly, what would doing so TEACH my children about not relying on their own skills and capacity to support and take care of themselves?
Now, true many will charge that the teaching cited above is Aggadic material (the stories we tell) and therefore is not weighted as much as Halachic (legal) material. In this framework, this story has little if any standing to support my case for not buying the “support our Kollel families” mentality. However, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches us that the stories we tell as part of our Jewish foundational texts are not only as important as the laws we teach but more so in that they give us a sense of the application of the laws by real people in real times. In other words, for Sacks, these stories are not devoid of Halacha but rather the activation of their practice and applications in our lives.
One does not have to go far to understand this. Remember that the Tanaim and Amoraim had professions in addition to their reputation as learners of text. They were water carriers, hewers of wood, teachers, doctors, and contributed to society as well as supported themselves and their families by a variety of means. Why is this NOT the example followed in too many (though clearly not all!) corridors of Jewish learning communities today?
Now, we return to our text at hand from Berachot 8a. The message is clear. We are to study Torah, have awe of G-d, AND understand that the best way to actualize and put these things and teachings into practice is precisely by being involved in a worldly occupation. Shimeon Bar Yochai learned this lesson when he emerged from the cave in which he was for so long and misunderstood what he saw when he observed people preparing for Shabbat by dealing with their crops and produce. As a result of not understanding that this is the way of the world and actualizing Torah in the world – namely to be involved in the world in practical ways – he was sent by G-d back into his cave. Perhaps this is the problem – too many in our communities have willfully created their own caves and refuse to be part of worldly pursuits.
It is at this point that the text of Berachot 8a comes to teach us that we have to take responsibility for ourselves. We have to provide for our families and the wellbeing of those for whom we are responsible as well as learn and show that we have awe of G-d. In fact, by taking responsibilities we ARE SHOWING our awe for G-d by taking care of ourselves and others created by G-d to whom we are directly accountable.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Revisiting the Story of Nadav and Avihu
This past week, we read the Parsha of Shmini in the book of VaYikra. In it occurs the most disturbing and perplexing situation involving Nadav and Avihu, the sons of Aaron who offer something strange to G-d and are then consumed. As the text reports:
א וַיִּקְח֣וּ בְנֵֽי־אַֽ֠הֲרֹ֠ן נָדָ֨ב וַֽאֲבִיה֜וּא אִ֣ישׁ מַחְתָּת֗וֹ וַיִּתְּנ֤וּ בָהֵן֙ אֵ֔שׁ וַיָּשִׂ֥ימוּ עָלֶ֖יהָ קְטֹ֑רֶת וַיַּקְרִ֜יבוּ לִפְנֵ֤י יְהוָֹה֙ אֵ֣שׁ זָרָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֧ר לֹ֦א צִוָּ֖ה אֹתָֽם: ב וַתֵּ֥צֵא אֵ֛שׁ מִלִּפְנֵ֥י יְהוָֹ֖ה וַתֹּ֣אכַל אוֹתָ֑ם וַיָּמֻ֖תוּ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהוָֹֽה: ג וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֜ה אֶֽל־אַֽהֲרֹ֗ן הוּא֩ אֲשֶׁר־דִּבֶּ֨ר יְהוָֹ֤ה ׀ לֵאמֹר֙ בִּקְרֹבַ֣י אֶקָּדֵ֔שׁ וְעַל־פְּנֵ֥י כָל־הָעָ֖ם אֶכָּבֵ֑ד וַיִּדֹּ֖ם אַֽהֲרֹֽן:
Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu each took their fire pans, put fire in them, and placed incense on it; and they brought these before G-d, with a strange fire which G-d did not command them to bring. Fire came forth from G-d and consumed them and they died before G-d. Moshe said to Aaron, “This is what G-d meant when G-d said, “Through those near to me I show myself holy, and before all of the people I will have glory.” Aaron was silent.
So many of the classical commentators talk about the sin or the misdeed of Nadav and Avihu and indicate that this fire from G-d is punishment for bringing something as an offering to G-d that was not commanded. What is most curious is that this story occurs after we have read for many chapters about exactly how and what we were to offer to G-d on a variety of different occasions and for different reasons. Further, after this brief but critical departure, we will go back to laws of purity, discipline and boundaries, namely those involved with the practices of Kashrut, structuring the eating patterns for the entire nation. Rashi and Ramban both explain that this offering of a strange fire was the cause for the death of Nadav and Avihu and to be sure, this is the conventional reading of the text.
In learning this recently with my son and daughter, we discussed an alternative possibility. Nadav and Avihu were leaders in their own right, good people to be sure by any measurement. Clearly, the commentators are deeply troubled by what is seen here as a misguided action for which they (as well as Aaron, their mourning father) are punished in the most extreme way, through death by fire as a response to the fire they offered.
What was their motivation? Why would these two good people commit such a heinous deed? Or, perhaps, something else entirely is going on here. What if this offering was as a result of their zealous desire to please G-d? What if in their excitement and passion, they “made up” this offering in a moment of inspiration and desire not unlike those felt by brilliant poets and songwriters, dramatists, artists, and others whose moments of intense insight result in strokes of genius, figuratively and literally? If this was what happened, now how do we read this event and extrapolate important and meaningful lessons from it?
On one hand, I made the point during our study that this one text would serve as a clear directive against creative prayer. Yet, while many members of our community may love this idea before we run too fast with it, remember that so much of our structured and disciplined Tefillah scripts were in fact the result of such inspiration and genius. So, that does not seem to completely work as a reading to me.
Maybe, just maybe, there is another message here. A message of boundaries and discipline and remembering that too much of anything is not always the way to go. We observe that Judaism continually teaches us the value of moderation and boundaries. We pray but are also to study. We study and we are also to work in a livelihood. We work to support our families, and we are also supposed to contribute to the larger community. We spend time improving and refining ourselves and we are also to concern ourselves with the well being of others and be an active participant in the larger community. We are truly the ultimate multi-taskers, we Jews are!
To multi-task, one cannot become too wrapped up in any one aspect of one’s life. That is why we do not have Jewish monks, nuns or ascetics of any type. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches, we value the sage more than the saint; that is to say, we are to improve ourselves while we refine society and as part of that effort, as opposed to living in isolation and “far away from that maddening crowd.” Perhaps this is the lesson of Nadav and Avihu. Offering sacrifices to G-d was not simply and singularly about the single minded devotion to G-d, but rather involved following all instructions, observing the limits and boundaries that each person in the community had to respect, and acknowledging that ultimately we serve G-d by the totality of all of our various actions and involvements, not by a single stroke or inspiration of genius.
I love the lesson of solar eclipses; it is a spiritual lesson that is very relevant here. We are not to look at the naked sun because we will become “blinded by the light,” as the song goes. This can happen with any single-minded effort in our lives if we are not careful. The very thing that draws us to it, be it the light of the sun, the love of our soul mate, the passion we have for an activity, or our desire to be one with G-d and G-d’s desires for us, can ultimately destroy us if we approach this object of our affections with disregard for boundaries and the discipline that will protect us throughout our strivings.
I think that Nadav and Avihu can come to teach us this lesson as well. Strange fires are those that can come from within us if we do not observe the protective covering that discipline, rules and boundaries provide us just as dark glasses and protective coverings will prevent blindness when the sun, which we may crave, is so exposed. Perhaps the lesson is that we have to temper our excitement and our passion, no matter how noble the motivation may be. Otherwise, we too may be consumed by the light that is way too bright, as were Nadav and Avihu.
א וַיִּקְח֣וּ בְנֵֽי־אַֽ֠הֲרֹ֠ן נָדָ֨ב וַֽאֲבִיה֜וּא אִ֣ישׁ מַחְתָּת֗וֹ וַיִּתְּנ֤וּ בָהֵן֙ אֵ֔שׁ וַיָּשִׂ֥ימוּ עָלֶ֖יהָ קְטֹ֑רֶת וַיַּקְרִ֜יבוּ לִפְנֵ֤י יְהוָֹה֙ אֵ֣שׁ זָרָ֔ה אֲשֶׁ֧ר לֹ֦א צִוָּ֖ה אֹתָֽם: ב וַתֵּ֥צֵא אֵ֛שׁ מִלִּפְנֵ֥י יְהוָֹ֖ה וַתֹּ֣אכַל אוֹתָ֑ם וַיָּמֻ֖תוּ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהוָֹֽה: ג וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֜ה אֶֽל־אַֽהֲרֹ֗ן הוּא֩ אֲשֶׁר־דִּבֶּ֨ר יְהוָֹ֤ה ׀ לֵאמֹר֙ בִּקְרֹבַ֣י אֶקָּדֵ֔שׁ וְעַל־פְּנֵ֥י כָל־הָעָ֖ם אֶכָּבֵ֑ד וַיִּדֹּ֖ם אַֽהֲרֹֽן:
Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu each took their fire pans, put fire in them, and placed incense on it; and they brought these before G-d, with a strange fire which G-d did not command them to bring. Fire came forth from G-d and consumed them and they died before G-d. Moshe said to Aaron, “This is what G-d meant when G-d said, “Through those near to me I show myself holy, and before all of the people I will have glory.” Aaron was silent.
So many of the classical commentators talk about the sin or the misdeed of Nadav and Avihu and indicate that this fire from G-d is punishment for bringing something as an offering to G-d that was not commanded. What is most curious is that this story occurs after we have read for many chapters about exactly how and what we were to offer to G-d on a variety of different occasions and for different reasons. Further, after this brief but critical departure, we will go back to laws of purity, discipline and boundaries, namely those involved with the practices of Kashrut, structuring the eating patterns for the entire nation. Rashi and Ramban both explain that this offering of a strange fire was the cause for the death of Nadav and Avihu and to be sure, this is the conventional reading of the text.
In learning this recently with my son and daughter, we discussed an alternative possibility. Nadav and Avihu were leaders in their own right, good people to be sure by any measurement. Clearly, the commentators are deeply troubled by what is seen here as a misguided action for which they (as well as Aaron, their mourning father) are punished in the most extreme way, through death by fire as a response to the fire they offered.
What was their motivation? Why would these two good people commit such a heinous deed? Or, perhaps, something else entirely is going on here. What if this offering was as a result of their zealous desire to please G-d? What if in their excitement and passion, they “made up” this offering in a moment of inspiration and desire not unlike those felt by brilliant poets and songwriters, dramatists, artists, and others whose moments of intense insight result in strokes of genius, figuratively and literally? If this was what happened, now how do we read this event and extrapolate important and meaningful lessons from it?
On one hand, I made the point during our study that this one text would serve as a clear directive against creative prayer. Yet, while many members of our community may love this idea before we run too fast with it, remember that so much of our structured and disciplined Tefillah scripts were in fact the result of such inspiration and genius. So, that does not seem to completely work as a reading to me.
Maybe, just maybe, there is another message here. A message of boundaries and discipline and remembering that too much of anything is not always the way to go. We observe that Judaism continually teaches us the value of moderation and boundaries. We pray but are also to study. We study and we are also to work in a livelihood. We work to support our families, and we are also supposed to contribute to the larger community. We spend time improving and refining ourselves and we are also to concern ourselves with the well being of others and be an active participant in the larger community. We are truly the ultimate multi-taskers, we Jews are!
To multi-task, one cannot become too wrapped up in any one aspect of one’s life. That is why we do not have Jewish monks, nuns or ascetics of any type. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks teaches, we value the sage more than the saint; that is to say, we are to improve ourselves while we refine society and as part of that effort, as opposed to living in isolation and “far away from that maddening crowd.” Perhaps this is the lesson of Nadav and Avihu. Offering sacrifices to G-d was not simply and singularly about the single minded devotion to G-d, but rather involved following all instructions, observing the limits and boundaries that each person in the community had to respect, and acknowledging that ultimately we serve G-d by the totality of all of our various actions and involvements, not by a single stroke or inspiration of genius.
I love the lesson of solar eclipses; it is a spiritual lesson that is very relevant here. We are not to look at the naked sun because we will become “blinded by the light,” as the song goes. This can happen with any single-minded effort in our lives if we are not careful. The very thing that draws us to it, be it the light of the sun, the love of our soul mate, the passion we have for an activity, or our desire to be one with G-d and G-d’s desires for us, can ultimately destroy us if we approach this object of our affections with disregard for boundaries and the discipline that will protect us throughout our strivings.
I think that Nadav and Avihu can come to teach us this lesson as well. Strange fires are those that can come from within us if we do not observe the protective covering that discipline, rules and boundaries provide us just as dark glasses and protective coverings will prevent blindness when the sun, which we may crave, is so exposed. Perhaps the lesson is that we have to temper our excitement and our passion, no matter how noble the motivation may be. Otherwise, we too may be consumed by the light that is way too bright, as were Nadav and Avihu.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Okay, so I have been thinking about this Jewish Education problem and...
Okay, so I have been thinking about this Jewish Education problem and …
I learned a very long time ago that to state a problem is not enough. One must think about and propose some ideas to fix what is wrong so that we can move on. Therefore, I must provide at least some initial thinking regarding the issues I discussed in my last blog entry, though clearly I could write tomes on this topic. Now, before I begin, remember my philosophy that we will never fix in five minutes... or five days … or five months what took decades to evolve, or devolve, as the case may be. That being said, we all know that the only constant in our lives is change. Our communities change, our priorities change, the very context of our teaching changes, and so forth…. And of course, we change.
So, our educational institutions must change as well, and herein lies part of the problem. Years ago I was consulting with a large congregational school and had helped them reconceptualize and ultimately rewrite their curriculum and trained their teachers to incorporate the new strategies and pedagogic style into their teaching. At one of the last meetings when everyone was so pleased with the work we had collectively done, one of the congregational leaders stood up and said, “I don’t understand why we had to go through this process. This was done forty years ago or so and we had a perfectly good course of studies from then.” Needless to say, there was a collective audible gasp in the room for all of the obvious reasons.
Thus, here we sit, understanding and accepting that we will never come up with the PERFECT and TIMELESS solution and magic formula for Jewish education or any program in which past, present and future conflate in different and variant ways in different places and spaces. Rather, we should strive for the contextually appropriate model and insure that it works within our present reality. That being said, I will revisit a few of the problems indicated in my previous writing and suggest approaches that we may want to and more importantly, need to consider.
1. Dreaming and visioning of educational planning and goals were the stuff of which Jewish Education in the Eighties and into the Nineties prided itself. Today, often people feel that we have ceased dreaming and visioning to the degree we should. Concerns about testing results, covering required material (which grows exponentially as time passes), what is fiscally responsible and making sure that we “hold onto our customers,” as one colleague put it (?!), overrun our initial understanding of our roles as educators. THIS ROLE NEEDS TO BE RECLAIMED. When I work with communities as a consultant, educator or educational leader, I always focus on my role as facilitator and gatherer. What do I mean by that? As we work together, there are three general outcomes – building a sense of community ownership of the program and school on which we are working; the work product, be it a curriculum, actual school entity, new mission statement and goal structure, or whatever; and the acquisition of the tools necessary to go through and replicate the process we have just engaged in as the community continues to change and grow. As I often explain, I have parented four children. Our youngest is a fourteen year old young man who is growing by the week. We are buying new wardrobes monthly, not because the clothes from before are now bad or he, G-d forbid, is bad; but rather these good clothes and this great child just do not fit together any more. So, we use our well honed skills of shopping to rectify the situation. This is actually analogous in many ways to how we need to look at “the what and the how” of our educational system, consistently holding ourselves accountable to the foundational elements while stretching, putting in new parts and the like as needed.
2. In hiring Heads of School, many communities have not distinguished whether
they are looking for a COO/CEO or an Educational Director. This often leads to confusion in terms of the expectations of the person being entrusted with the running of the school on the part of all involved. It is a reality that we are not in the same fiscal situation we were in twenty or thirty years ago. Our demands for our institutions are greater and the available dollars are harder to find (though I would contend that more are out there than we think and that how they are used is sometimes problematic). Nonetheless, to sacrifice the quality of the product so that we are fiscally responsible is actually being institutionally, communally, and yes, fiscally irresponsible. I am amazed at how communities tout their brand new beautiful facilities and state of the art technology and then don’t have enough money to pay faculty, make individual classes larger and larger, and the like which is counterintuitive to how we must regard the education of our children, with so many different needs and learning differences. It appears that the problem is further exacerbated by the many advertisements for Heads of School that begin with fiscal skills as the first skill set. THIS PROBLEM MUST BE ADDRESSED as wonderful educators are sitting and languishing while, frankly, the wrong people are too often in these top positions, earning much higher salaries than these institutions can afford, adding yet another obstacle to putting dollars where they are most needed. Communities MUST distinguish their legitimate needs for HEAD ADMINISTRATORS from their increasingly profound need for VISIONARY EDUCATORS. As communities that used to work together to insure that both types of support were provided are now torn and make forced choices, the educators are the ones that are relegated to being expendable. WE DEPARATELY NEED VISIONARY EDUCATORS AS HEADS OF OUR INSTITUTIONS AND THESE SPECIAL PEOPLE NEED to be able to work on educational viability and growth.
3. To whom and what are we comparing our Jewish day schools? Who is our
target population? To be sure, there is a long and changing history of Jewish
Day School options and programs in our lives. As a child, I remember when you
either went to an Orthodox single sexed program or public school supplemented by a religious education within the movement in which you were raised, including those of us who were Orthodox. Now, we boast our many day schools and affiliations. I noted in my consulting in the eighties and nineties that every small Jewish community had a day school. Recently so many of these schools and others have closed their doors. To be sure, demographics have played havoc with our Jewish communities. However, when I hear many community members and even community leadership, up to and including area Federations, speak of their Jewish day schools as analogous to fancy private schools, I am profoundly confused. This was NOT the choice my family was making when we worked hard to provide the resources for our first three children to attend Jewish Day School. At this point, this is among the many reasons our fourth child is NOT in Jewish Day School and instead attends our wonderful public school district and is home schooled in Jewish Studies. Further, looking at the widely differentiated scale of what day school tuition is in various communities indicates that this equation of affordability of Jewish Day School education for those who are not looking for FANCY PRIVATE SCHOOLING is even more of a profound problem in some of our Jewish areas in this country. If Jewish Day Schools were to provide a substantial and meaningful dual curriculum and infuse students with the notion of living in an American Jewish laboratory, how much of our board meetings and decision making time is allocated to these issues – these goals, this vision?
There is so much more to discuss, but this is enough to begin with for now. How sad it is to watch the demise of so much that has been built, hoped for and created through the years. I do sincerely hope that the future will greet us with brighter days and possibilities.
I learned a very long time ago that to state a problem is not enough. One must think about and propose some ideas to fix what is wrong so that we can move on. Therefore, I must provide at least some initial thinking regarding the issues I discussed in my last blog entry, though clearly I could write tomes on this topic. Now, before I begin, remember my philosophy that we will never fix in five minutes... or five days … or five months what took decades to evolve, or devolve, as the case may be. That being said, we all know that the only constant in our lives is change. Our communities change, our priorities change, the very context of our teaching changes, and so forth…. And of course, we change.
So, our educational institutions must change as well, and herein lies part of the problem. Years ago I was consulting with a large congregational school and had helped them reconceptualize and ultimately rewrite their curriculum and trained their teachers to incorporate the new strategies and pedagogic style into their teaching. At one of the last meetings when everyone was so pleased with the work we had collectively done, one of the congregational leaders stood up and said, “I don’t understand why we had to go through this process. This was done forty years ago or so and we had a perfectly good course of studies from then.” Needless to say, there was a collective audible gasp in the room for all of the obvious reasons.
Thus, here we sit, understanding and accepting that we will never come up with the PERFECT and TIMELESS solution and magic formula for Jewish education or any program in which past, present and future conflate in different and variant ways in different places and spaces. Rather, we should strive for the contextually appropriate model and insure that it works within our present reality. That being said, I will revisit a few of the problems indicated in my previous writing and suggest approaches that we may want to and more importantly, need to consider.
1. Dreaming and visioning of educational planning and goals were the stuff of which Jewish Education in the Eighties and into the Nineties prided itself. Today, often people feel that we have ceased dreaming and visioning to the degree we should. Concerns about testing results, covering required material (which grows exponentially as time passes), what is fiscally responsible and making sure that we “hold onto our customers,” as one colleague put it (?!), overrun our initial understanding of our roles as educators. THIS ROLE NEEDS TO BE RECLAIMED. When I work with communities as a consultant, educator or educational leader, I always focus on my role as facilitator and gatherer. What do I mean by that? As we work together, there are three general outcomes – building a sense of community ownership of the program and school on which we are working; the work product, be it a curriculum, actual school entity, new mission statement and goal structure, or whatever; and the acquisition of the tools necessary to go through and replicate the process we have just engaged in as the community continues to change and grow. As I often explain, I have parented four children. Our youngest is a fourteen year old young man who is growing by the week. We are buying new wardrobes monthly, not because the clothes from before are now bad or he, G-d forbid, is bad; but rather these good clothes and this great child just do not fit together any more. So, we use our well honed skills of shopping to rectify the situation. This is actually analogous in many ways to how we need to look at “the what and the how” of our educational system, consistently holding ourselves accountable to the foundational elements while stretching, putting in new parts and the like as needed.
2. In hiring Heads of School, many communities have not distinguished whether
they are looking for a COO/CEO or an Educational Director. This often leads to confusion in terms of the expectations of the person being entrusted with the running of the school on the part of all involved. It is a reality that we are not in the same fiscal situation we were in twenty or thirty years ago. Our demands for our institutions are greater and the available dollars are harder to find (though I would contend that more are out there than we think and that how they are used is sometimes problematic). Nonetheless, to sacrifice the quality of the product so that we are fiscally responsible is actually being institutionally, communally, and yes, fiscally irresponsible. I am amazed at how communities tout their brand new beautiful facilities and state of the art technology and then don’t have enough money to pay faculty, make individual classes larger and larger, and the like which is counterintuitive to how we must regard the education of our children, with so many different needs and learning differences. It appears that the problem is further exacerbated by the many advertisements for Heads of School that begin with fiscal skills as the first skill set. THIS PROBLEM MUST BE ADDRESSED as wonderful educators are sitting and languishing while, frankly, the wrong people are too often in these top positions, earning much higher salaries than these institutions can afford, adding yet another obstacle to putting dollars where they are most needed. Communities MUST distinguish their legitimate needs for HEAD ADMINISTRATORS from their increasingly profound need for VISIONARY EDUCATORS. As communities that used to work together to insure that both types of support were provided are now torn and make forced choices, the educators are the ones that are relegated to being expendable. WE DEPARATELY NEED VISIONARY EDUCATORS AS HEADS OF OUR INSTITUTIONS AND THESE SPECIAL PEOPLE NEED to be able to work on educational viability and growth.
3. To whom and what are we comparing our Jewish day schools? Who is our
target population? To be sure, there is a long and changing history of Jewish
Day School options and programs in our lives. As a child, I remember when you
either went to an Orthodox single sexed program or public school supplemented by a religious education within the movement in which you were raised, including those of us who were Orthodox. Now, we boast our many day schools and affiliations. I noted in my consulting in the eighties and nineties that every small Jewish community had a day school. Recently so many of these schools and others have closed their doors. To be sure, demographics have played havoc with our Jewish communities. However, when I hear many community members and even community leadership, up to and including area Federations, speak of their Jewish day schools as analogous to fancy private schools, I am profoundly confused. This was NOT the choice my family was making when we worked hard to provide the resources for our first three children to attend Jewish Day School. At this point, this is among the many reasons our fourth child is NOT in Jewish Day School and instead attends our wonderful public school district and is home schooled in Jewish Studies. Further, looking at the widely differentiated scale of what day school tuition is in various communities indicates that this equation of affordability of Jewish Day School education for those who are not looking for FANCY PRIVATE SCHOOLING is even more of a profound problem in some of our Jewish areas in this country. If Jewish Day Schools were to provide a substantial and meaningful dual curriculum and infuse students with the notion of living in an American Jewish laboratory, how much of our board meetings and decision making time is allocated to these issues – these goals, this vision?
There is so much more to discuss, but this is enough to begin with for now. How sad it is to watch the demise of so much that has been built, hoped for and created through the years. I do sincerely hope that the future will greet us with brighter days and possibilities.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Oh dear, what is happening to our Jewish Educational Institutions?
Oh dear, what is happening to our Jewish Educational Institutions?
I have worked in the field of Jewish Education for thirty five years. I have seen so many developments during that time; for a long time, many of these changes were positive and exciting. When I began my position as Educational/Youth Director for a large synagogue early in my career thirty years ago, I promised myself that I would create a meaningful viable Jewish community and the experiences that the students, teachers, family and all vested members would have within that community that I would work hard to facilitate would be different … different from the staid, programmed experience I had experienced in my younger years – you know the days when you walked in the house with the SAME book that your mother used in Hebrew school and this was a GOOD thing! I do feel that I was successful and still run into people from that chapter of my life, including the friendships I have maintained since then, and we speak with love and fond memories of that time. I was feeling good as I moved from that experience on to others and really was heartened by the fact that I am my colleagues were making profound differences in the field of Jewish education – in Central Agencies, afternoon school systems, day schools, formal and informal settings, and so forth.
Those were also the years of a wonderful organization called the Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education (CAJE), which became, among other things, the annual watering hole for creative Jewish educators, those who were challenging boundaries and barriers in everything from how one teaches and transmits information to the very definitions of what it means to be Jewish, observant and so many other things. Together, we shared our dreams and hopes for our communities in our fishbowl on random university campuses in this country as well as Israel and during the year, we tried to actualize some of those dreams and hopes – in our various settings in all our denominational groupings. These were indeed heady and exciting times for a Jewish educator that wanted to make a profound difference in the larger world of Jewish education, and then….
Here I sit, in 2010, disillusioned and extremely disappointed. Several of my wonderful colleagues – some of the most creative, committed Jews and passionate people I have ever met – are no longer in the ranks of Jewish education. Others languish in institutions that no longer dream and move towards a vision – not the way we used to. Too often, this profession and the communities that support it have eaten up their best and thrown them to the curb. How sad and depressing. CAJE ran its course for many reasons though there are a few hearty souls trying to restart it. I do have some intermittent contact with wonderful colleagues from different settings in which we meet – often in Israel or as parents of children that are friends of my children and choose and go to the same University communities where committed Jewish kids feel comfortable and validated. But we all share a feeling of the passing of an era. Yes, to be sure, there are wonderful schools out there, fabulous communities to be found, and people who are still excited about what they are doing…. But, the reality is that many of the communities in which I have worked as a consultant through the years have lost their own dreams and sense of future vision. I definitely see and feel this where I live.
In my own larger Jewish community in which three of our four children went through the day schools that we have and graduated, our fourth child, a wonderful, insightful, Jewishly committed 14 year old that exudes a sense of integrity and respect, attends public school due to the fact that he needs to be in an institution in which people treat each other with respect and the vision is shared, and he and those with whom he learns as well as those that teach and lead them have a sense in which direction they are moving. Sadly, we had to pull him out of day schools for reasons of compromised personal safety, not even considering what were increasing profound academic concerns.
I note that Financial Managers, COO’s and CEO’s are now more important in our educational institutions than seasoned, capable and experienced Jewish educators in too many cases. I have often heard statements to the effect that “I do not understand. This school used to have a vision and a soul. Now it is a business, one that is supposed to make money.” A business that is supposed to make money?! What happened to the days when our schools and educational institutions were known to be our loss leaders in the supermarket of Jewish agencies and institutions? This was our investment in our future – created an educated, excited, able Jewish population and they WILL be our wonderful leaders of tomorrow. The buildings may not have been the best and various aspects of the institution not state-of-the-art, but the places in which such learning occurred were often happy, soulful and nurturing venues. In the past year and a half, so many day schools have closed, programs that were dedicated to the professional enrichment of seasoned educators terminated, tuitions for day school education are now being compared to “other private schools in the area” and many families are forced out of this option, afternoon programs are more watered down than ever, there are less vehicles for shared visioning, and there are lots of granted dollars being spent on….., well, state-of-the-art technology and beautiful buildings and I am not sure what, too often. What has happened?
In our Orthodox community as is the case elsewhere, we have many more public school families than one might expect. Families acknowledge having to compromise on many things they believe (not to mention choking their family budget considerably) and “close their eyes” so that they can send their children to day school, and in these schools there are behaviors and occurrences that would NEVER be acceptable on any level in my son’s public school (back to that matter of personal safety).
What is wrong with this picture? Someone might say it is a personal reaction (even ranting) BUT I am most certainly not the only one with this story. None of my children will even consider going into Jewish education as a profession – the work which I felt so passionately about for so long. Years ago, I was so in love with my work, I desperately wanted at least one of them to continue and move into this path. Now, in 2010, I no longer feel this way. Some time ago, an older and beloved colleague once said to me, “I do not envy you, Sunnie. This was a great profession for me; so much is changing I am not sure what it will be for you.” For many years I disagreed respectfully with her as I was so excited and invigorated by my work. Now, I think she was prophetic. How sad!
I have worked in the field of Jewish Education for thirty five years. I have seen so many developments during that time; for a long time, many of these changes were positive and exciting. When I began my position as Educational/Youth Director for a large synagogue early in my career thirty years ago, I promised myself that I would create a meaningful viable Jewish community and the experiences that the students, teachers, family and all vested members would have within that community that I would work hard to facilitate would be different … different from the staid, programmed experience I had experienced in my younger years – you know the days when you walked in the house with the SAME book that your mother used in Hebrew school and this was a GOOD thing! I do feel that I was successful and still run into people from that chapter of my life, including the friendships I have maintained since then, and we speak with love and fond memories of that time. I was feeling good as I moved from that experience on to others and really was heartened by the fact that I am my colleagues were making profound differences in the field of Jewish education – in Central Agencies, afternoon school systems, day schools, formal and informal settings, and so forth.
Those were also the years of a wonderful organization called the Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education (CAJE), which became, among other things, the annual watering hole for creative Jewish educators, those who were challenging boundaries and barriers in everything from how one teaches and transmits information to the very definitions of what it means to be Jewish, observant and so many other things. Together, we shared our dreams and hopes for our communities in our fishbowl on random university campuses in this country as well as Israel and during the year, we tried to actualize some of those dreams and hopes – in our various settings in all our denominational groupings. These were indeed heady and exciting times for a Jewish educator that wanted to make a profound difference in the larger world of Jewish education, and then….
Here I sit, in 2010, disillusioned and extremely disappointed. Several of my wonderful colleagues – some of the most creative, committed Jews and passionate people I have ever met – are no longer in the ranks of Jewish education. Others languish in institutions that no longer dream and move towards a vision – not the way we used to. Too often, this profession and the communities that support it have eaten up their best and thrown them to the curb. How sad and depressing. CAJE ran its course for many reasons though there are a few hearty souls trying to restart it. I do have some intermittent contact with wonderful colleagues from different settings in which we meet – often in Israel or as parents of children that are friends of my children and choose and go to the same University communities where committed Jewish kids feel comfortable and validated. But we all share a feeling of the passing of an era. Yes, to be sure, there are wonderful schools out there, fabulous communities to be found, and people who are still excited about what they are doing…. But, the reality is that many of the communities in which I have worked as a consultant through the years have lost their own dreams and sense of future vision. I definitely see and feel this where I live.
In my own larger Jewish community in which three of our four children went through the day schools that we have and graduated, our fourth child, a wonderful, insightful, Jewishly committed 14 year old that exudes a sense of integrity and respect, attends public school due to the fact that he needs to be in an institution in which people treat each other with respect and the vision is shared, and he and those with whom he learns as well as those that teach and lead them have a sense in which direction they are moving. Sadly, we had to pull him out of day schools for reasons of compromised personal safety, not even considering what were increasing profound academic concerns.
I note that Financial Managers, COO’s and CEO’s are now more important in our educational institutions than seasoned, capable and experienced Jewish educators in too many cases. I have often heard statements to the effect that “I do not understand. This school used to have a vision and a soul. Now it is a business, one that is supposed to make money.” A business that is supposed to make money?! What happened to the days when our schools and educational institutions were known to be our loss leaders in the supermarket of Jewish agencies and institutions? This was our investment in our future – created an educated, excited, able Jewish population and they WILL be our wonderful leaders of tomorrow. The buildings may not have been the best and various aspects of the institution not state-of-the-art, but the places in which such learning occurred were often happy, soulful and nurturing venues. In the past year and a half, so many day schools have closed, programs that were dedicated to the professional enrichment of seasoned educators terminated, tuitions for day school education are now being compared to “other private schools in the area” and many families are forced out of this option, afternoon programs are more watered down than ever, there are less vehicles for shared visioning, and there are lots of granted dollars being spent on….., well, state-of-the-art technology and beautiful buildings and I am not sure what, too often. What has happened?
In our Orthodox community as is the case elsewhere, we have many more public school families than one might expect. Families acknowledge having to compromise on many things they believe (not to mention choking their family budget considerably) and “close their eyes” so that they can send their children to day school, and in these schools there are behaviors and occurrences that would NEVER be acceptable on any level in my son’s public school (back to that matter of personal safety).
What is wrong with this picture? Someone might say it is a personal reaction (even ranting) BUT I am most certainly not the only one with this story. None of my children will even consider going into Jewish education as a profession – the work which I felt so passionately about for so long. Years ago, I was so in love with my work, I desperately wanted at least one of them to continue and move into this path. Now, in 2010, I no longer feel this way. Some time ago, an older and beloved colleague once said to me, “I do not envy you, Sunnie. This was a great profession for me; so much is changing I am not sure what it will be for you.” For many years I disagreed respectfully with her as I was so excited and invigorated by my work. Now, I think she was prophetic. How sad!
Friday, March 5, 2010
The Power and Challenge of Community and the Spirit that Guides It
The Power and Challenge of Community and the Spirit that Guides It
We in our worldwide Jewish community just celebrated Purim, for which the story is told in the last chronological chapter of the Tanach. We always note, as we read the Megilah, that G-d’s name seems to be eerily absent in this story. We all know of the accounts of how scrolls of Megilat Esther were used to wrap other scrolls and texts of Torah when they had to be saved in times of terror, such as the Holocaust precisely because of the absence of the name of G-d in its words and verses. Ironically, while this particular narrative of Jewish existence and survival was used as packing material, the fact is that G-d was truly protecting all of the texts that were being shielded in this special covering; just as G-d is always there for us, whether perceived directly or not. This was as it should be, and as it was in the story of Esther itself in which there are many screens through which the power of G-d comes through and gives fortitude to the community G-d was guiding. Whether found in the very name of Esther, in the many times the word Melech is used, the notion that the saving power for the Jews will come from another place – mimakom acher – or even in special encoded pesukim, we generally agree that G-d was clearly present throughout the saga that we just read this past week.
While one has to look for and acknowledge that G-d is found in the personae, actions and events of this chapter of Jewish history at some point in the fourth century b.c.e.; on the other end of the spectrum, G-d’s name appears constantly in the beginning of Bereshit. One cannot miss G-d’s direct and obvious presence in the formative stages of our existence as a universe and a human community. G-d has to act directly upon every aspect of Creation as G-d is alone and without partner. In fact, many take the entirety of the Biblical narrative as the story of how G-d comes to partner with the human being individually and ultimately with the human community that the individuals build collectively with G-d guiding them.
In this week’s Parsha, Ki Tisa, appearing towards the end of Sefer Shemot, we read about a census that is taken as all members of the community prepare to act and function as a complete unit, with a Mishkan, leadership of its Kohanim, laws in place and so much else that has been accomplished in their arduous and adventurous journey on the way to becoming the Jewish people. As we consider this narrative which is set during the years between the leaving of Egypt and taking on the responsibility of forging a group identity in preparation for living in their own promised land of Eretz Yisrael, we note the need for the B’nai Yisrael to become a functioning community, with a sense of independence and confidence. Yet, we also see in this Parsha that this is not to be – not at this point anyway.
In one of the saddest tales to date in our Torah readings, we read the narrative of the Egel HaZahav, which represents a test taken and failed, and the resulting loss of community strength and its need for rebuilding. As we read about the perceived absence of G-d by people, we must sadly admit that they are not yet ready for the independence that they would need to take as they moved into their destined future.
As we read this difficult text about the power and the potential of the group, we are also confronted with the problematic nature of group mentality. In the beginning of Chapter 32 of Shemot, we are told
א וַיַּ֣רְא הָעָ֔ם כִּֽי־בֹשֵׁ֥שׁ מֹשֶׁ֖ה לָרֶ֣דֶת מִן־הָהָ֑ר וַיִּקָּהֵ֨ל הָעָ֜ם עַֽל־אַֽהֲרֹ֗ן וַיֹּֽאמְר֤וּ אֵלָיו֙ ק֣וּם ׀ עֲשֵׂה־לָ֣נוּ אֱלֹהִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֤ר יֵֽלְכוּ֙ לְפָנֵ֔ינוּ כִּי־זֶ֣ה ׀ מֹשֶׁ֣ה הָאִ֗ישׁ אֲשֶׁ֤ר הֶֽעֱלָ֨נוּ֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם לֹ֥א יָדַ֖עְנוּ מֶה־הָ֥יָה לֽוֹ: ב וַיֹּ֤אמֶר אֲלֵהֶם֙ אַֽהֲרֹ֔ן פָּֽרְקוּ֙ נִזְמֵ֣י הַזָּהָ֔ב אֲשֶׁר֙ בְּאָזְנֵ֣י נְשֵׁיכֶ֔ם בְּנֵיכֶ֖ם וּבְנֹֽתֵיכֶ֑ם וְהָבִ֖יאוּ אֵלָֽי: ג וַיִּֽתְפָּֽרְקוּ֙ כָּל־הָעָ֔ם אֶת־נִזְמֵ֥י הַזָּהָ֖ב אֲשֶׁ֣ר בְּאָזְנֵיהֶ֑ם וַיָּבִ֖יאוּ אֶֽל־אַֽהֲרֹֽן: ד וַיִּקַּ֣ח מִיָּדָ֗ם וַיָּ֤צַר אֹתוֹ֙ בַּחֶ֔רֶט וַֽיַּֽעֲשֵׂ֖הוּ עֵ֣גֶל מַסֵּכָ֑ה וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ אֵ֤לֶּה אֱלֹהֶ֨יךָ֙ יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר הֶֽעֱל֖וּךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם:
Roughly translated, we read as follows:
And the nation saw that Moshe delayed coming down from the mountain and they gathered and pounced on Aaron. They said to him, “Get up and make for us a god that will go before us, because this man, Moshe, that brought us up from the land of Egypt left and we have no idea where he is. We need direction! So, Aaron said to them, “Take the rings of gold that are in the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters and bring them to me. The people removed these rings of gold that were in their ears and they brought them to Aaron. Aaron took them from their hands and put them together and created for them a golden calf (egel masecha). They said, “This is your G-d Israel that has brought you up from the land of Egypt.”
The B’nai Yisrael feel that they have been abandoned. Where is G-d? Where is Moshe? Who will lead them in the perceived absence of their leaders? Who will teach and guide them through the coming challenges they will no doubt face? They are afraid and in that fear, the very sense of balance and understanding of who they are as a group is also absent.
What is the purpose of group? It is meant to strengthen and validate who we are. Its raison d’etre is to provide a forum for a collective of people with shared values and beliefs to move forward. Here the group fails, the community falters. Aaron knows this and obviously while many commentators try to figure out why exactly he plays along with this sham, perhaps he hopes to show the B’nai Yisrael how immature they really are, needing a physical, albeit false, representation of the power that guides them.
Note that while G-d is always here, covering and protecting the group with G-d’s protective nature, direct leadership is invested in others – in Aaron, and in Moshe. The B’nai Yisrael have matured and are continuing to do so, even through these obvious setbacks. They were supposed to take responsibility and do their part as well as acknowledge that G-d’s presence may be more nuanced but there at all times, nonetheless.
Here is where they failed. G-d is, until today, seen in the actions and motivations of human beings according to many theologians and Jewish thinkers across the spectrum of belief. We question and we wrestle with G-d individually and as a community, but we try to remember that as in Megilat Esther, G-d is always there, to be perceived through the many screens in our lives. Hopefully, we have progressed significantly since the generation of the Egel HaZahav and do not need to revert to a shallow and false physical presence to indicate this, no matter what challenges we face as individuals or as a group.
We in our worldwide Jewish community just celebrated Purim, for which the story is told in the last chronological chapter of the Tanach. We always note, as we read the Megilah, that G-d’s name seems to be eerily absent in this story. We all know of the accounts of how scrolls of Megilat Esther were used to wrap other scrolls and texts of Torah when they had to be saved in times of terror, such as the Holocaust precisely because of the absence of the name of G-d in its words and verses. Ironically, while this particular narrative of Jewish existence and survival was used as packing material, the fact is that G-d was truly protecting all of the texts that were being shielded in this special covering; just as G-d is always there for us, whether perceived directly or not. This was as it should be, and as it was in the story of Esther itself in which there are many screens through which the power of G-d comes through and gives fortitude to the community G-d was guiding. Whether found in the very name of Esther, in the many times the word Melech is used, the notion that the saving power for the Jews will come from another place – mimakom acher – or even in special encoded pesukim, we generally agree that G-d was clearly present throughout the saga that we just read this past week.
While one has to look for and acknowledge that G-d is found in the personae, actions and events of this chapter of Jewish history at some point in the fourth century b.c.e.; on the other end of the spectrum, G-d’s name appears constantly in the beginning of Bereshit. One cannot miss G-d’s direct and obvious presence in the formative stages of our existence as a universe and a human community. G-d has to act directly upon every aspect of Creation as G-d is alone and without partner. In fact, many take the entirety of the Biblical narrative as the story of how G-d comes to partner with the human being individually and ultimately with the human community that the individuals build collectively with G-d guiding them.
In this week’s Parsha, Ki Tisa, appearing towards the end of Sefer Shemot, we read about a census that is taken as all members of the community prepare to act and function as a complete unit, with a Mishkan, leadership of its Kohanim, laws in place and so much else that has been accomplished in their arduous and adventurous journey on the way to becoming the Jewish people. As we consider this narrative which is set during the years between the leaving of Egypt and taking on the responsibility of forging a group identity in preparation for living in their own promised land of Eretz Yisrael, we note the need for the B’nai Yisrael to become a functioning community, with a sense of independence and confidence. Yet, we also see in this Parsha that this is not to be – not at this point anyway.
In one of the saddest tales to date in our Torah readings, we read the narrative of the Egel HaZahav, which represents a test taken and failed, and the resulting loss of community strength and its need for rebuilding. As we read about the perceived absence of G-d by people, we must sadly admit that they are not yet ready for the independence that they would need to take as they moved into their destined future.
As we read this difficult text about the power and the potential of the group, we are also confronted with the problematic nature of group mentality. In the beginning of Chapter 32 of Shemot, we are told
א וַיַּ֣רְא הָעָ֔ם כִּֽי־בֹשֵׁ֥שׁ מֹשֶׁ֖ה לָרֶ֣דֶת מִן־הָהָ֑ר וַיִּקָּהֵ֨ל הָעָ֜ם עַֽל־אַֽהֲרֹ֗ן וַיֹּֽאמְר֤וּ אֵלָיו֙ ק֣וּם ׀ עֲשֵׂה־לָ֣נוּ אֱלֹהִ֗ים אֲשֶׁ֤ר יֵֽלְכוּ֙ לְפָנֵ֔ינוּ כִּי־זֶ֣ה ׀ מֹשֶׁ֣ה הָאִ֗ישׁ אֲשֶׁ֤ר הֶֽעֱלָ֨נוּ֙ מֵאֶ֣רֶץ מִצְרַ֔יִם לֹ֥א יָדַ֖עְנוּ מֶה־הָ֥יָה לֽוֹ: ב וַיֹּ֤אמֶר אֲלֵהֶם֙ אַֽהֲרֹ֔ן פָּֽרְקוּ֙ נִזְמֵ֣י הַזָּהָ֔ב אֲשֶׁר֙ בְּאָזְנֵ֣י נְשֵׁיכֶ֔ם בְּנֵיכֶ֖ם וּבְנֹֽתֵיכֶ֑ם וְהָבִ֖יאוּ אֵלָֽי: ג וַיִּֽתְפָּֽרְקוּ֙ כָּל־הָעָ֔ם אֶת־נִזְמֵ֥י הַזָּהָ֖ב אֲשֶׁ֣ר בְּאָזְנֵיהֶ֑ם וַיָּבִ֖יאוּ אֶֽל־אַֽהֲרֹֽן: ד וַיִּקַּ֣ח מִיָּדָ֗ם וַיָּ֤צַר אֹתוֹ֙ בַּחֶ֔רֶט וַֽיַּֽעֲשֵׂ֖הוּ עֵ֣גֶל מַסֵּכָ֑ה וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ אֵ֤לֶּה אֱלֹהֶ֨יךָ֙ יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל אֲשֶׁ֥ר הֶֽעֱל֖וּךָ מֵאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם:
Roughly translated, we read as follows:
And the nation saw that Moshe delayed coming down from the mountain and they gathered and pounced on Aaron. They said to him, “Get up and make for us a god that will go before us, because this man, Moshe, that brought us up from the land of Egypt left and we have no idea where he is. We need direction! So, Aaron said to them, “Take the rings of gold that are in the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters and bring them to me. The people removed these rings of gold that were in their ears and they brought them to Aaron. Aaron took them from their hands and put them together and created for them a golden calf (egel masecha). They said, “This is your G-d Israel that has brought you up from the land of Egypt.”
The B’nai Yisrael feel that they have been abandoned. Where is G-d? Where is Moshe? Who will lead them in the perceived absence of their leaders? Who will teach and guide them through the coming challenges they will no doubt face? They are afraid and in that fear, the very sense of balance and understanding of who they are as a group is also absent.
What is the purpose of group? It is meant to strengthen and validate who we are. Its raison d’etre is to provide a forum for a collective of people with shared values and beliefs to move forward. Here the group fails, the community falters. Aaron knows this and obviously while many commentators try to figure out why exactly he plays along with this sham, perhaps he hopes to show the B’nai Yisrael how immature they really are, needing a physical, albeit false, representation of the power that guides them.
Note that while G-d is always here, covering and protecting the group with G-d’s protective nature, direct leadership is invested in others – in Aaron, and in Moshe. The B’nai Yisrael have matured and are continuing to do so, even through these obvious setbacks. They were supposed to take responsibility and do their part as well as acknowledge that G-d’s presence may be more nuanced but there at all times, nonetheless.
Here is where they failed. G-d is, until today, seen in the actions and motivations of human beings according to many theologians and Jewish thinkers across the spectrum of belief. We question and we wrestle with G-d individually and as a community, but we try to remember that as in Megilat Esther, G-d is always there, to be perceived through the many screens in our lives. Hopefully, we have progressed significantly since the generation of the Egel HaZahav and do not need to revert to a shallow and false physical presence to indicate this, no matter what challenges we face as individuals or as a group.
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