FROM JERUSALEM TO RAMALLAH (AND BACK)
September 29, 2011
Rosh Hashanah Morning 5772
The nationalistic fervor which swept across Europe through the middle and late 19th Century found its Jewish expression in the Zionist movement, and the dream of a modern Jewish State in our ancestral homeland of Israel. As Jewish pride and hope blossomed, Jewish soccer clubs sprouted throughout metropolitan Europe – in Budapest, Berlin, Prague, Innsbruck and others cities throughout the 1920’s.
So it happened that only two decades before Adolf Eichmann forced Jews across Europe to sew a yellow star on their clothing as a symbol of degradation, many of these sports clubs played with a six-pointed Star of David prominently stitched on their jerseys and shorts. They enthusiastically draped themselves in blue-and-white uniforms, like the colors of the flag of Israel. And their proudly Hebrew names, “Hagibor” (“The Hero”), “Bar Kochba” (after the leader of a second-century revolt against the Romans), and “Hakoach” (“The Powerful”), clearly expressed both their historical roots, as well as their Zionist allegiance. And did you know that in 1925, the Jewish soccer club, Hakoach of Vienna was the surprise champion of the Austrian league. They went on to tour the world, playing exhibitions against teams across Europe, the United States, and even in the Far East. The story of Hakoach of Vienna is one example of how, in the words of author, Franklin Foer, “How Soccer Explains the World”.[i]
Perhaps another example of soccer explaining the world came in a story I read just last month in Sports Illustrated magazine.[ii] The article was titled, “Welcome to the World,” and it described the entry of a team from the nation of Palestine into a qualifying match in the World Cup of soccer. They were playing against a team from Thailand for the rights to make the World Cup finals in Brazil three years from now. And the article described some of the unique challenges of playing for the Palestinian team, a team composed of West Bank Palestinians, Israeli Arabs, and even residents of Gaza Strip, who play their home games at the three-year-old Faisal Al-Husseini Stadium just outside of Ramallah.
As I read the Sports Illustrated story, I remember thinking to myself: How can there be a national team for which there is no nation? As of yet, there is no internationally recognized, sovereign nation called “Palestine”! So if soccer explains anything about the world, what’s going on when a Palestinian national team is invited to participate in the World Cup matches before such an independent state has even come into existence? As far as the world is concerned, including FIFA, the governing body of international “football”, is Palestinian statehood already a done deal?
That question really bothered me. But as coincidence would have it, if there is really such a thing as “coincidence”, the very day after reading the Sports Illustrated story, I received a call from a colleague in Southern California, inviting me to travel to Jerusalem and the West Bank as part of a small contingent of rabbis, to meet with Israeli and Palestinian leadership, and to experience the unfolding realities on both sides of the “Separation Seam.” And so, only three weeks ago, I was sitting around a small table in the Knesset offices of the Israeli Foreign Minister with six other rabbis, and when we each explained to our host why we had agreed to take part in that Rabbinic Leadership Mission, I explained to him, as best I could, “Well, there was this article in Sports Illustrated…”
Of course, that was just a very small part of my motivation for agreeing to take part in the Mission. As I wrote you upon my return, the Mission consisted of two, very intensive days. We spent the first day in Jerusalem, with high-level Israeli political, military, and business leadership. On day two, we travelled to Ramallah and the West Bank to meet with their Palestinian counter-parts. I realized immediately upon receiving the invitation that this was a rare and historic opportunity to see, hear, witness and evaluate for myself – without the filters of anyone else’s opinion or agenda — the situation as it is currently unfolding, especially in the days leading up to the Palestinians’ coming to New York and the United Nations in their bid for Statehood.
I know that we all can read countless news stories, editorials, opinion pieces and blog sites that address the current and unfolding situation. But I went on the Mission to see and learn and decide for myself; and so this morning, I want to share with you my own, very personal take on the current situation and conflict.
First, to paraphrase a fairly well-known idiom, before I begin to speak, there’s something I want to say: I want to publicly thank my congregation and our leadership for the tremendous support you’ve offered both leading up to and following my mission to Israel and the Palestinian entity. I knew upon agreeing to the Mission, that my meeting with Palestinian leadership would evoke some degree of controversy, even criticism, from those whose opinions I respect, but who would question the integrity of my willingness to meet with the adversaries, yes, even the enemies of the Jewish State. Today, I want to assert, and I believe this from the very depths of my soul, that when you make the decision to meet and listen openly, honestly, objectively and compassionately to another, whose viewpoint, agenda and experience is so very different than one’s own, that decision is NOT an sign of weakness, of gullibility, of passivity or even fear. It’s actually an expression of strength, maybe even, of bravery. And no battle has ever been won without some significant acts of bravery!
Now I believe that there should be very little doubt in this community on where I stand as a staunch supporter and lover of the Jewish State. After twenty years of teaching, preaching, leading trips and writing opinions, I think most of you could probably place me rather accurately towards the right side on the spectrum between left-wing and right-wing supporters of Israel. But I was determined to come to this opportunity open to hearing what each of the leaders and representatives had to say, and I want to describe for you a moment, an image, that stayed with me as something of a metaphor for my journey.
Having taken six trips to Israel over the past four years, I have watched the building, the growth, and the impact of that so-called “Separation Seam”. I have seen pretty much the entire length of its fences and walls, and even hiked along parts of it. And I can tell you that no one likes that barrier – neither Israel who must maintain it, nor the Palestinians who must negotiate its path and its check-points. But there is no questioning that it has been extremely successful in its goal of preventing terrorist incursions and other acts of violence against innocent, Israeli citizens.
Still, up until three weeks ago, I had only seen one side of the barrier, and then, always seeing it as something meant to “keep them out.” Suddenly, when I crossed through the checkpoint on my way towards Ramallah, I realized I was seeing the very same barrier, only this time, I was seeing it from the perspective of those for whom it was meant for keeping them “in.”! I realized that in order to get the most from my unique opportunity, I would need to hold onto both perspectives, both ways of viewing that barrier and the various barriers to security and peace.
The topics we explored with Israeli political, business, and military leaders covered a variety of concerns, including the recent social demonstrations in Israel, the deteriorating situation in Egypt, the spread of the Arab Spring uprisings, and economic opportunities and obstacles. But the most pressing question of those days was why the Palestinian Authority has chosen to abandon negotiations with Israel, and go directly to the United Nations in seeking their goals and dreams of statehood.
It is important to remember that the end result of establishing a secure and sovereign, Palestinian State alongside the borders of Israel is not only the official policy of the Netanyahu administration; it has also been the official policy of the past several Israeli governments. The two-state solution has, been accepted as the most desired result and conclusion to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. And over the past two years, in the West Bank, though not in Gaza, under the bureaucratic leadership of Palestinian Prime Minister, Salam Fayyad, the infrastructure has been laid for the time when that State will come into existence. And without question, at some point, that is going to happen.
The roads linking West Bank towns are quite good, built, by the way, mainly by Israel in order to help the day to day travel needs of the Palestinians, although we never read or hear about that kind of cooperation in the media. In fact, collaborative efforts between Israel and Palestinian Authority Security Forces are working rather well. In 2008, there were a total of 42 checkpoints along the length of the Separation Seam. As of last year, that number was down to 17.
Ramallah is poised to take on the role of economic capital of the Palestinian entity. In the downtown areas, there are new stone and glass government offices. Throughout the city, amidst the hodge-podge of older houses, apartments and businesses, large and beautiful homes are being built, many with beautiful views out across the hills and valleys. There is a stock exchange, a growing banking industry, a strong and successful police and security apparatus, and entertainment options such as coffee shops and theaters are springing up. There is even a home field for the soccer team just outside of Ramallah!
So what then are the barriers to peace? If so much is already in place, what needs to be decided? For the most part the issues remaining to be agreed upon are: Borders, Refugees, Security, and Water. One might think that, since both sides want the same end result – that being both Jewish and Palestinian sovereignty, those hurdles would be quite possible to overcome. So why have the Palestinians abandoned all negotiations with Israel, and instead, taken their cause to the UN?
It is important to note that not all of their leadership was in agreement regarding the wisdom of their unilateral declaration, including Prime Minister Fayyad, who was publicly opposed. Meanwhile, President Abbas and his spokesmen described their decision to move forward at the UN as a step towards resuming the stalled peace process. They say that the United States has lost credibility as an objective, mediator in the discussions, and so they are turning to the International Community, of which Israel is a part, to allow greater input in solving some of the intractable issues. The move is part, they say, of a wide-scale program of non-violent resistance to the Israeli occupation, which they know in the court of world opinion, will meet with great approval.
The Israeli leadership sees the Palestinians’ new strategy as a tactic intend to avoid negotiations entirely. In negotiations, there must be concessions on both sides. But the deck is so stacked against Israel at the UN that whatever the Palestinians present to the General Assembly is guaranteed to be passed. By avoiding direct negotiations with Israel to solve the outstanding issues, they won’t have to make concessions; they won’t have to give up anything.
I think we also have to view events within the context of the so-called Arab Spring, the shocking uprisings which spread so quickly in places like Egypt and Libya, and which toppled long-standing and seeming secure, autocratic leaders. Palestinian Authority President Abbas realizes that his credibility and power were on the steep decline among the Palestinian populace. A significant political victory on the International stage would go a long way to securing his position of leadership, and the hero’s reception he received this week upon returning to Ramallah certainly validated that gamble.
In short, the Israelis are looking to negotiate towards the existence of a Palestinian State as a way of ending the conflict. The Palestinians, on the other hand, are hoping to use UN recognition, as a platform for pressing on with their claims against the Jewish State.
Of course, there have been no substantial negotiations for nearly two years now. What are the issues that stand in the way? What do the two sides claim as the primary obstacles to negotiations and peace?
To the Palestinians, and they are of one mind and voice here, that the primary obstacle to negotiations and to peace is, in their words, “the continued illegal construction of Jewish settlements on Palestinian land.” The Israelis respond with the fact that there have been no new settlements built during the past ten years, and when illegal settlers set one up, they are immediately and forcibly evicted by the Israeli army. And although there does continue to be some construction in the communities already established, last year, the Netanyahu government imposed a complete, ten-month long freeze on all building projects in those communities, and never during those months, would the Palestinians agree to return to the talks. Frankly, we never heard a satisfying answer from the Palestinian leadership as to why they didn’t come back to the table,
The Israeli government insists that settlements are not really at issue, and they use the Gaza Strip as proof of that contention. Since the Israelis left Gaza back in the so-called “hitnaktut” of 2005, there are no settlements, no Israelis or Jews at all in Gaza. But that still hasn’t stopped the militant forces of Hamas from launching an unending barrage of rockets from Gaza into towns inside of Israel proper. If settlements are the problem, Israeli leaders ask, then why is the territory where there are no settlements now controlled by a terrorist organization seeking to murder innocent civilians?
The Palestinian response to that question was interesting, and frankly, I believe is not without some merit. When then Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon, decided to evacuate the Israelis from Gaza he preceded quickly, unilaterally, and without including any Palestinian Authority input in the plan. “Had Sharon included us in the process,” the PA spokesman insisted, “we then could have gone to the people in Gaza and said, ‘Look at what negotiations have produced! Let’s continue to negotiate.’ Instead, Sharon’s actions allowed the radical element to say to the populace, ‘Look at what terror has accomplished! Let’s continue our strategy of terror!’”
I should mention that the situation in Gaza, and its control by Hamas, is in many ways as difficult a situation for the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank as it is for the Israeli government. I am confident in telling you that there will never be a real coming together of Hamas and the PA — which of course, begs the question: If we want to define the nation of Palestine, who are we talking about, and what are her borders?
I want to tell you the question I asked Ghassan Khatib, the Director of the Government Media Center of the Palestinian Authority. Essentially, he IS the international “face” of the PA. And I don’t mind admitting that I was very nervous sitting beside him, and asking this question. After all, I had been in Ramallah for less than a half-hour, and to paraphrase the prophet, Amos: I am neither a diplomat, nor the son of a diplomat! But I had come to the Mission for a reason, and I needed to ask the most essential questions. And so I tried to phrase my question in a manner that was both respectful of my host, but in a way that also might get an honest reply. So I said:
“Mr. Khatib: You and your government are clear and unified in your opinion that the primary obstacle to peace is the construction in settlement communities in the West Bank.” “Yes,” he answered, with a bit of a stare. Our eyes locked as I continued my question: “If I were to ask the members of my community, they would tell me that the primary obstacle to peace is the refusal of the Palestinians to recognize the State of Israel as the rightful, ancestral homeland of the Jewish people. Mr. Khatib, what would you have me say to my community?”
His answer was direct, but not satisfying whatsoever. Essentially, he insisted that the language of mutual recognition had already been agreed upon in the Oslo Accords, and that such a demand was only being made by the Israeli Prime Minister in order to placate his right-wing coalition partners. Israel made peace with Egypt without such language, Khatib insisted, and so did the Kingdom of Jordan. It is a new condition, he claimed, that has only served to delay the process of negotiation.
But the matter of the Jewishness of Israel IS important, in fact, I think it’s critical. Because when the problem of the Palestinian refugees is addressed, how can there be a Palestinian and a Jewish State, if the descendents of the Palestinian refugees have a right to live in the Jewish, rather than the Palestinian nation?
In fact, the essential Jewishness of Israel continues to be avoided, seemingly at all costs, by the Palestinian leadership. Last week at the United Nations, Mr. Abbas spoke of the Holy Land as the place of the ascension of the Prophet Muhammad, and the birthplace of Jesus Christ. But he failed to mention the fact that the Jewish nation had been settled there for more than two thousand years before either Jesus or Muhammad, and that Jerusalem was the capital of Israel under King David, King Solomon, and a succession of Jewish monarchs for many hundreds of years. In fact, there continues to be a complete denial by the Palestinians of any Jewish claim to our homeland. Frankly, I do not believe that there is anyone in the PA leadership who has either the political strength or the political will to recognize our authentic, historical claim to the land of Israel.
Finally, what about concessions? Even there, it’s hard to find a point of optimism. When the Israelis say that they are ready and willing to relinquish 98.5% of the West Bank to a future Palestinian State, a tremendous and risky concession of Israeli land, the Palestinians respond by saying that it is no concession at all, because the only starting point for negotiations is the pre-1967 borders. And were the Palestinians to renounce any claim for the right of refugee descendants to return to Israeli cities such as Haifa, Beersheva, or Tiberias, the Israelis would hardly consider that to be a concession, because the so-called “Palestinian right of return” is an historically false claim, and a condition that is not even on the table.
So where is there to go? To what possibility is there to turn? Perhaps you might understand why it was, that as I listened carefully and closely to each side’s arguments and positions, it became harder to find a direction that might offer hope, or even a place where the “dueling narratives” between two peoples might begin to find resolution! It seemed like the words of the Israelite people from the darkest days of the Prophet, Ezekiel, would be the most fitting conclusion to our Mission: “Avdah tikvatenu”– Our hope is lost.”[iii] Upon what grounds might we begin to place our hopes for a better tomorrow, for a time of reconciliation and peace?
I wonder if it is just another coincidence that soon after my return from the Middle East, scientists in Israel announced that they had made a remarkable discovery. They had found evidence of life in the Dead Sea.[iv] Until now, it has always been assumed, because of the saltiness of the water, that it is impossible for life there to either emerge or survive. Of course, it’s way too early go to fishing in the Dead Sea, but we now know that under the right conditions, life can develop even there, even in the sea that has always been taken for dead.
I met with Avi Nudelman, CEO of the Israel-Palestinian Chamber of Commerce and Industry, who is working together with Mohammad Abu Ein, Chairman of the Palestinian Import/Export Association. They are creating partnerships and business connections between Israeli and Palestinian markets. And they are beginning to mark their successes, as contributing to the nearly $4 billion dollars in trade annually between the two sides. Both men emphasized that Israelis and Palestinians are natural partners, not only because of their proximity, but because they are both Western in their cultural orientation, because both value higher education and innovation, and both sides want the same basic things in life for themselves and their families.
We were invited into the offices of the Jerusalem Venture Partners, where start-up companies, incubator projects, and even artistic enterprises are provided seed capital for developing, financing, and marketing their ideas. Because of Israeli successes in so many areas of innovation, opportunities for investing in Israeli businesses are highly sought after. Since its beginnings in 1993, the Venture Partners has provided seeding for some seventy companies, with a total value of $900 million. They are now working to develop a High Tech Park in the city of Bethlehem, and are looking to partner with Palestinian incubator projects throughout the West Bank.
I had coffee I downtown Ramallah with a woman named Huda El Jak, the owner of a new chain of coffee shops. She is an entrepreneur and Venture Capitalist, and is modeling her business after similar, successful chains in Israel.
I visited with Sameh Masri, the General Manager of United Motor Trade Company — the largest importer of luxury automobiles in the West Bank. I saw his showroom, his spare parts warehouse, and his most important resource – the workers and mechanics he continued to employ – even during the stalled economic times of the 2nd Intifida.
I sat in the sparkling offices of the Director General of Quds Bank, one of the largest banking houses in the Palestinian lands. The former Minister of Energy for the PA, he now runs a consulting firm in Gaza. He spoke first hand of the strong link between a healthy economy and the reduction in violence, as well as the investment coming from Israeli investors through partnership with Palestinian businesses.
And I travelled to the planned city of Rawabi, an $825 million dollar development that is the largest project ever undertaken in the Palestinian areas. Among the funding sources are not only Arab sources, such as the nation of Qatar, but also Jewish and Israeli investors, including, I learned, Michael Steinhardt – one of the founders of Birthright Israel. Upon completion, Rawabi will house some 40,000 young, middle-income Palestinians, with state-of-the-art technological, environmental, and social infrastructure.
Our group was taken to the highest point of the planned city of Rawabi, and from those heights where picnic tables, volleyball courts, and a reception hall already stand, you can actually make out the buildings of Tel Aviv and the Mediterranean Sea far in the distance. One member of our group made the comment of how easy it might be to fire a rocket from that spot directly into Tel Aviv. But of course, that’s the last thing the people, the investors, and the builders of Rawabi would want: there is too much at stake, and of course, there is a lot of money to be made.
What seemed consistent among all of these business leaders and entrepreneurs, particularly among the Palestinians, was how they refused to get stuck in the narratives of victimization. They understand the challenges they face, but are creatively looking for solutions. They are eager, and yes, energized looking to the possibilities of the future.
As I made my way back through the Kalandia check-point into Jerusalem, it struck me that on both sides of the Separation Barrier: the hundreds of thousands of protesters who filled the streets and parks in Israel this summer, and the owners, workers, and investors in the Palestinian businesses and communities are all looking and hoping for the same thing – the chance make a better life for themselves and their children. That is why it was there, at the moment of crossing through the Barrier, I discovered that seed of hope.
We need to realize that the Palestinian conflict is certainly not the only problem facing Israel. It is not even the biggest threat to the region in this time of Iran’s nuclear development, growing anarchy in many Arab societies, and a shifting of power throughout the entire region. But finding a solution to the conflict, which would assure the mutual security for Israel and a Palestinian State would be a monumental and vital step.
Yes, there were times in my visit where I felt, like the words of Ezekiel “Avdah tikvatenu — Our hope is lost.” But the author of the Israeli national anthem, Naftali Imber, added two words to that phrase – “OD LO — NOT YET!” “Od lo avdah tikvatenu – Our hope is not yet lost”, sings the anthem! Perhaps the realization of that hope will be that one day, in a stadium in Tel Aviv, or on the pitch in Ramallah, two national teams will square off against one another, with the final score of a soccer match the only battle left to be fought.
[i] Franklin Foer, How Soccer Explains The World. An {unlikely} Theory of Globilization, HarperCollins, New York, 2004.
[ii] “Welcome to the World”, Sports Illustrated, August 8, 2011.
[iii] Ezekiel 37:11.
[iv] http://media.themedialine.org/media/110921_danny_Ionescu.mp3.
A NEW MACHZOR – CHANGES AND CHALLENGES
September 28, 2011
Erev Rosh Hashanah 5772
In his recent book, The Beginning of Infinity, physicist and cosmologist, David Deutsch, makes the following, rather fascinating insight. He writes: “Progress that is both rapid enough to be noticed and stable enough to continue over many generations has been achieved only once in the history of our species. It began at approximately the time of the scientific revolution, and is still under way. It has included improvements not only in scientific understanding, but also in technology, political institutions, moral values, art, and every aspect of human welfare.”[i]
Deutsch’s argument is that prior to the scientific revolution that ushered humanity into the modern era, people lived under the generally correct assumption that life, culture, knowledge, and technology would simply remain constant. The future could be expected, for the most part, to be very much like the present, even as the present was by and large no different from the past. We, however, live in a time when change is really all that is constant. We expect things to change, and try to anticipate where changes in technology, attitudes, aesthetics, and knowledge might lead.
This was the central reality which informed and forged the Reform Judaism of my grandparents and great-grandparents. Reform Judaism of the late 19th and 20th Centuries recognized the enormous shifts brought about by modern, scientific inquiry, Rather than reject new ideas, understandings, and realities, the Reformers both embraced and then embodied the ideal of change in religious practices as a healthy response to the evolution of society in general. Today, nearly two centuries since the earliest expressions of Reform Jewish thought, nearly all of the Jewish world accepts the truths that were at the core of our forbearers’ vision; “…that our tradition should interact with modern culture; that its forms ought to reflect a contemporary esthetic; that its scholarship needs to be conducted by modern, critical methods; and that change has been and must continue to be a fundamental reality in Jewish life.”[ii] We continue to see, throughout the country and even in our own community, congregations which declare adherence to more traditional forms, now adopting our own long-standing practices of including musical instruments, paying attention to the use of English, as well as Hebrew prayers, utilizing contemporary poetry, meditations and reflections, and giving a high priority to maintaining a fresh, creative spirit in our worship.
Of course, from its earliest days, Judaism has never been lacking the creative impulse, expressed throughout the centuries through the means of philosophy, poetry, folklore, and the development of Halacha, Jewish law and practice. But Reform Judaism of the past century and a half has focused on the evolution and development of our prayerbooks as a primary focus of our own, creative energy to an extent well beyond what had previously been seen in Jewish history.
Tonight, we have a unique opportunity as a congregation to be part of that dynamic process of creative, prayerbook evolution, as we are worshipping from the first, pilot edition of our newest, High Holyday Machzor. For those of us who have been worshipping in Reform synagogues throughout our lives, this will be the third, or perhaps even the fourth prayerbook we will come to know, and each one has been a reflection and a response to its own generational realities.
The first widely- accepted and utilized prayerbook in our Movement was the Union Prayerbook, which first came out in 1893. The book was extremely popular in the United States, with some 300 synagogues adopting its use, with over 100,000 copies printed and distributed. It underwent a significant revision right after World War I, and then a newly-revised edition was published soon after World War II. Our current machzor, Gates of Repentance, made its appearance back in 1978. So if we look across the time-line of the past century and a quarter, we can see that indeed, once in a generation, changes in practice, aesthetics, political realities and patterns of language have led to the creation and adoption of a new prayerbook , approximately every thirty five years or so.
I remember quite well when our Movement made the switch from the Newly Revised Union Prayerbook to The Gates of Repentance. And I can tell you that it was not an easy transition for congregational members who had long been accustomed to the English translations of the Union Prayer Book, with its “Thee’s” and “Thou’s” – long archaic forms of English speech utilized to add a formal air and tone of ancient solemnity, but replaced in the newer liturgy with more common, colloquial styles of English translation. Of course, the newer prayerbook also introduced certain content to the services which had long been absent or discarded in many Reform congregations, including the words to the Kol Nidre Chant, a complete service for the sounding of the Shofar, and the medieval hymn, “Unetaneh Tokef”, with its haunting intonations, “Who shall live and who shall die?… Who by fire and who by water?”
Yes, I remember well those first few years when our current machzor was being introduced in our North American Reform congregations, because those years corresponded to my first years in Rabbinical school, and as a rabbinic intern and then, as a student Rabbi. I can tell you that for a movement rooted in the desirability and inevitability of change, change — particularly in the realm of prayer and religious observance, never comes easily!
For the past several years, here at Temple Emanu-El, we have been engaged in the ongoing process of evaluating and evolving our own, unique patterns of worship, bringing a great deal of innovation to our Sabbath, festival and High Holyday services, which have resulted in changes in our prayerbooks, our music, our worship schedules, and even the architecture of this Sanctuary. And that is why last spring, I met with some of my rabbinical colleagues who are taking active, leadership roles in the creation of this new machzor, and requested that our congregation be one of the pilot-sites for worshipping with and experiencing the preliminary version of the prayerbook-in-process. It is my intention, at the conclusion of the Holyday season, to solicit Temple members for some of your own input regarding the content and format of this draft machzor, so that I might share some of our experiences here with our national leadership.
In some ways, let me admit up-front, I’m stacking the deck just a bit, because like our Sabbath prayerbook, Mishkan Tefilah, you can see that this pilot version is set up in order to enable a very dynamic approach to the liturgy itself. Because each prayer appears on both the right and left-side pages, the worship leader may choose to include either the traditional, Hebrew formulation, or a faithful English translation, or, using the left-side leaf, a poetic, medieval, or contemporary reflection on the theme of each prayer. And I say that the deck is stacked because having prepared the service, I already made some of my own decisions regarding which options we would utilize tonight. So there are some passages you might have really liked that I chose not to include tonight, and some that spoke to me and my heart, which we have included, that may have left you unaffected or uninspired.
One of the most interesting aspects of preparing tonight’s service, and anticipating the chance to pilot this new machzor was choosing which rendition of Avinu Malkenu to include. Of the entire liturgy unique to Rosh Hashanah, no prayer is better known, loved, and anticipated than Avinu Malkenu – Our Father, our King. For many years, at this Evening Service, we have not only prayed this text in both Hebrew and English, but we have also sung it twice; first, using the beloved, Cantorial rendition of Max Janowsky, and then as a unison, congregational chanting of the familiar, folk-like melody. I hope that you noticed as we prayed Avinu Malkenu this evening that our pilot machzor offered three very different and distinct expressions of the Avinu Malkenu. I think it’s fair to suggest that the very feel of, and response to tonight’s service might well hinge upon which version we shared together, more so than any other prayer or melody of the service.
Regardless of the phrases of supplication that are included, just in the words “Avinu Malkenu”, we express essential aspects of our relationship with God. Our experience of intimacy with the Divine, God’s being close to us, near, and imminent is that aspect we call “Avinu”, our Father. God’s majesty, transcendence, and awesome power we express when calling God “Malkenu, Our King.” Love of God, and fear of God. Intimacy with God and remoteness from God; God’s compassion and God’s Justice — all these are set into balance as we pray, Avinu Malkenu. Theologically, it is very powerful and very much in keeping with Jewish beliefs throughout the centuries.
The Avinu Malkenu certainly presents some challenges for Jews today – problems of language, of translation, and also of belief. No one here tonight has ever lived as subject to a king who wields limitless power and authority. So can the metaphor of God as such a monarch feel truly meaningful to contemporary Jewish men and women? And even the embedded metaphors of masculinity, our Father, our King, can be distracting to some, even though we realize that God cannot be conceived according to the limited specifics of human, gender identity. Did you notice how the translators of this draft version have chosen “Almighty and Merciful”, instead of “Our Father, Our King,” in order to avoid their perceived dilemma of gender specific translation?
To me, dancing around the metaphors of gender weaken, rather than intensify the power of this mantra-like recitation. But what was most strikingly difficult and jarring in our Avinu Malkenu tonight, — and I’ll share this with you even as I have already expressed my concern to those of my colleagues most closely involved in the Machzor project – is the English translation as rendered in the first full line of the prayer: Avinu Malkenu, chatanu l’fanecha. The customary translation of the phrase is, Avinu Malkenu, we have sinned before you,”, or alternately, “… we have sinned against You.” But here, we are given the expression, “Avinu Malkenu, we come before you in our brokenness.”
“Brokenness” is a bit of a stretch as a translation for Chet, or sin. I understand what the translators here are trying to accomplish. They responded to my uneasiness with the wording by suggesting that the translation should be considered “faithful to the original, even if not directly literal.” Their desire is to avoid using the word “sin” and all that it reflects, and to reframe our standing before God as persons lacking in wholeness, rather than deserving of punishment.
Ok, I agree that we hope for God’s love and compassion as we admit to our feelings of “brokenness”, and there can be so much in life that can break us spiritually, physically, and emotionally. And yes, much of what makes us feel broken comes upon us for reasons far beyond our own control.
But “Sin” is also real. Often, it is our own, misguided behavior that in the end turns against us, and leads then to our sense of being shattered, damaged, defeated or crushed. But that does not absolve us of the responsibility for owning up to our decisions, our behaviors, our shortcomings. Brokenness is a passive condition. Sinfulness means taking responsibility. And if these Holy Days are to be a time of heshbon ha-nefesh, of sincere and fearless soul-searching, we sell the process short by simply pleading “brokenness.” No! In the words of the liturgy, We have sinned. We have transgressed. We have gone astray from our highest ideals. I believe that if we are afraid of admitting honestly to the very idea of sin, then we actually diminish the odds that we will, in the year ahead, be strong enough to overcome those very thoughts and behaviors that lead to the brokenness we declare.
Avinu Malkenu is a perfect example of how difficult it is, and why it takes a tremendous amount of thought and deliberation when we consider, as Reform Jews, how best to express in our worship the ideas and beliefs of our faith.
I have to say that there is a great deal that I like about this new machzor — its layout, its content, and even much of its language. I love the explanatory notes at the bottom of the pages that allow for study and contemplation even during the course of the worship service. I appreciate the blending of modern, medieval, Biblical and rabbinical resources on the left-hand pages that help to amplify the messages of the traditional liturgy of the service. And I really have enjoyed the chance to vary the content of the service, and can see the opportunity this new machzor will offer for us to change things up, just a bit, year by year. So I’m looking forward to continuing to discuss our experience together with this new liturgy, and help our Movement evolve into the next generation of High Holyday worship.
A story is told of a student who had come to study with the renowned 19th-Century Rabbi Mordecai of Nadvorna. Right before Rosh Hashanah, the disciple came to his teacher hoping for permission to be dismissed early from his class. The rabbi asked him, “Why are you in such a hurry today?” He answered, “I have been given the honor of leading portions of the Rosh Hashanah service, so I have to look carefully into the machzor to put my prayers in order.” The rabbi replied, “That’s fine, but your time would be better spent for you to look carefully into yourself, and put yourself in order!”
So it is for us, we who live in a time when change is not only possible, but to be expected. Advances in technology, communications, culture and knowledge are what we have come to expect. But changes in ourselves, our ways of thinking and our patterns of behaving, those changes don’t come so easily. And if our prayers tonight, tomorrow, and during this Holyday season help us in the process of changing ourselves for the better, then we and our world will perhaps be healed of our brokenness, and discover the wholeness and the hope that have always been the promise of this sacred season.
[i] David Deutsch, The Beginning of Infinity. Explanations That Transform the World, Penguin, 2011.
[ii] “Reform Judaism, A Centenary Perspective”. Adopted by the Central Conference of American Rabbis in San Francisco, 1976.
Music at Temple Emanu-El Today
September 16, 2011
Music is such a vital element of worship. That’s why the Temple leadership, including Rabbi Meyer and the volunteer board, has put so much emphasis on developing an excellent music program. If you haven’t come to services since last year’s High Holydays, you may have missed what we’ve done.
Our musical evolution has been consistent with that of other Reform synagogues. Recall that Ashkenazi Judaism comes out of the eastern European tradition where music during worship existed only as chanting (Nusach) to carry forward the obligation of prayer. Musical instruments were forbidden, as they still are in many Conservative and most Orthodox shuls.
Today, the importance of music as part of the service can hardly be overstated. It serves both as aesthetic enhancement and for the purpose of spiritual inspiration. In Reform Judaism in general and here at Temple Emanu-El, music uplifts us and encourages us to participate. It enhances our feeling of holiness. Singing together engenders a stronger sense of community.
The music in this year’s High Holyday services will blend two styles that have woven together in recent years. We are pleased to welcome back Lynn Torgove, who has now completed her cantorial studies, as soloist. Morton Hyams, on the keyboard and directing the professional choir, will continue to enrich our worship. Our Music Specialist, Jon Nelson, will bring his unique talents to High Holyday worship as well. And of course, Rabbi Meyer coordinates along with Lynn, Morton and Jon just how our music weaves the content and feeling of the services together.
When I first became involved with Temple Emanu-El as a volunteer, enhancing the music program was my highest priority. We have made great strides. As you join with your fellow congregants in High Holyday worship, please join in with the music. Let it engage and inspire you too.
L’shanah tovah to all.
p.s. One of the most beautiful services of the year and my personal favorite is the Yom Kippur afternoon service that starts at 12:30pm. It lasts only an hour and tends to be much less crowded than the earlier service. We read the Book of Jonah, the Holiness Code (Lev. 19), and share unique grandeur of the Great Aleinu. Please consider joining me for this lovely element of holyday worship.
