Working in the Jewish world sometimes feels like riding a roller coaster- prospects, results and experiences hit highs and lows and everything in between. One gloomy minute you sense Judaism's impending demise and another you revel in the little things which give us hope.
These last two weekends, as my social life falls to non-existent status, I took a bumpy and jarring, but ultimately telling ride in the figurative amusement park of Jewish youth work. Here's how...
Part II
(Part I is posted below and gives this whole thing context)
There is another way....
After a horrifying BBYO weekend (see Part I), I welcomed an invitation I would otherwise dread to songlead at a 22 person youth group retreat with Temple Sharey-Tefilo, S. Orange, New Jersey.
It's not like I don't know what to expect. I've staffed so many of the things over the last 18 or so months, that I'm no longer shocked by Jewish teens not knowing the difference between an alef and a beis. I assume the vast majority of "Reform" teens don't know how to or want to pray. I'm aware that many see programming, especially Jewish programming as a nuisance- Enough said! Reform youth programs typically don't leave me satisfied or feeling confident in the future....
And then there are those times which remind me of my past, only a few short years ago, when I couldn't get enough Judaism, immersing myself in the movement's many avenues for youth development. These are the times that remind me why I spend the hours and weekends, on trains and in buses for the sake of a Reform-Progressive future.
At a middle of no-where camp in Pennsylvania, 22 teens came together for a weekend of singing, praying, learning and growing. The youth director mentioned that outside of youth group, most of the kids rarely, if ever socialize with eachother- but youth group remains a place for everyone. She explained that the juniors and seniors missed a major football/dance event at school and came to the STISY retreat instead. Over the course of the weekend, the Judaism-crazy Kutz alum helped to run the services. The Tiffany's wearing senior demanded Dan Nichols music and then danced along to Btzelem Elohim. The "gangsta", sports jersey, Giants hat wearing sophomore played soldier in a program about Tzahal. The trumpet blowing, tennis playing, goofy junior guy wrote a three paragraph long letter to an ailing Israeli soldier. The Freshmen girls spent 45 minutes crafting just the right prayer to be placed in the Kotel. A couple cool, cute, popular junior girls spent Shabbat afternoon learning Lo Yisa Goi on the guitar and played along during Havdalah. The openly gay, semi-flamboyant senior discussed wanting a Jewish community at college next year. The nerdy, smarty-pants freshman boy spoke eloquently on Israel's right to exist during a debate program. The entire group sang through each service, chanted through each birkat and grappled through each program from beginning to end.
The youth groupers were all a little different. They had their own opinions, interests and quirks and came together to make "them"- to bond and to form a community. This is what "we're about" one of them told me.
Each one made some part of the weekend happen. And they all, for at least this one weekend, placed their Judaism, their Jewish commitment, above everything else in their lives. They made me wish I could be one of them again. They reminded me why I do what I do.
True. It's not quite as good as it sounds. They didn't really know much. They turned to me with the most basic questions about Jewish history and the conflict in Israel. Since their Bnai Mitzvot, their prayers had gotten a little rusty. Yes, I wish someone would have nurtured their appreciation for Judaism, taught them more earlier and provided a stronger foundation. But I admired whoever it was; maybe their parents, the Rabbi, or the youth director, who taught them to care.
True. Their caring makes them unfortunately unique. Too few Jewish teens are willing to contemplate their Jewish identity, asking questions and seeking out the knowledge to form answers. And even those who do think rarely know what questions to ask or from whom to get the answers, guidance and inspiration they crave.
That's where we come in.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Highs and Lows #1: Pretty Damn Low
Working in the Jewish world sometimes feels like riding a roller coaster- prospects, results and experiences hit highs and lows and everything in between. One gloomy minute you sense Judaism's impending demise and another you revel in the little things which give us hope.
These last two weekends, as my social life falls to non-existent status, I took a bumpy and jarring, but ultimately telling ride in the figurative amusement park of Jewish youth work. Here's how...
Part I
Asked how I felt after "songleading" a BBYO event last weekend, I replied, "alarmed", and proceeded to explain that BBYO showcases, as if proudly, all the ways in which the dominant secular culture of our time has doomed the Jewish people.
Every Jewish moment of the BBYO Long Island Winter Convention was a struggle, particularly services. The teen leadership stood before their peers, over 300 Long Islanders, pleading with them to stop talking, disrespecting and ignoring the services before them. Regressing to "apology" tactics, the leaders soon insisted that if the group could just remain quiet for even a few minutes, the Birkat Hamazon, the services, the Havdalah, the "Jewish" programs would soon end, allowing all to return to their flirting, gossiping world of mindless, non-contemplative ignorance.
A "Changing the World" program involved making paper chains to demonstrate how each of our actions effects countless others. In the "Ms. Nassau-Suffolk Region" competition, the girls dressed the boys in tight, revealing clothing and the boys "performed" provacative dances and "booty shakes" on stage to be crowned winner. At the dance, the teens proved they had memorized the newest pop hit by rapping along to "Fifty Cents" even though they could not, would not chant along to the Vahavta only hours earlier. And except when paraded onto the "stage" to lead these pathetic, after-thought services before this careless, "too cool for anything meaningful" congregations, this songleader sat in the back, trying to soak it all in, assessing the desolation and contemplating a seemingly dreary future.....
there must be another way.... (see Part II above)
These last two weekends, as my social life falls to non-existent status, I took a bumpy and jarring, but ultimately telling ride in the figurative amusement park of Jewish youth work. Here's how...
Part I
Asked how I felt after "songleading" a BBYO event last weekend, I replied, "alarmed", and proceeded to explain that BBYO showcases, as if proudly, all the ways in which the dominant secular culture of our time has doomed the Jewish people.
Every Jewish moment of the BBYO Long Island Winter Convention was a struggle, particularly services. The teen leadership stood before their peers, over 300 Long Islanders, pleading with them to stop talking, disrespecting and ignoring the services before them. Regressing to "apology" tactics, the leaders soon insisted that if the group could just remain quiet for even a few minutes, the Birkat Hamazon, the services, the Havdalah, the "Jewish" programs would soon end, allowing all to return to their flirting, gossiping world of mindless, non-contemplative ignorance.
A "Changing the World" program involved making paper chains to demonstrate how each of our actions effects countless others. In the "Ms. Nassau-Suffolk Region" competition, the girls dressed the boys in tight, revealing clothing and the boys "performed" provacative dances and "booty shakes" on stage to be crowned winner. At the dance, the teens proved they had memorized the newest pop hit by rapping along to "Fifty Cents" even though they could not, would not chant along to the Vahavta only hours earlier. And except when paraded onto the "stage" to lead these pathetic, after-thought services before this careless, "too cool for anything meaningful" congregations, this songleader sat in the back, trying to soak it all in, assessing the desolation and contemplating a seemingly dreary future.....
there must be another way.... (see Part II above)
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
From Stuttgart 1
"With the passing of time the knowledge of God has become confused. The more subtle our wisdom, the more multifaceted has our stupidity become. Had God's grace not endured eternally, what would have become of us? Men have once again reached the point where they are lost without a compass in a sea of errors, finding themsleves in the middle of a Noahite deluge of ideas. Where is the ark, where is deliverance? In a time in which humility is paraded for show, because at heart it nourishes pride, it would sound ridiculous if somebody came forth and announced: here is the ark, here is the deliverance! And yet all those who have become conscious of our calling have said exactly that..."
You might assume that the above lamentations belong to a contemporary thinker. Instead, they are lifted from the anonymous 1837 publication, "The Holy History of Mankind," released in Stuttgart, Germany. Only years later was it revealed that revolutionary Jewish socialist thinker Moses Hess, a forerunner of the European Zionist movement, wrote "The Holy History" at age 25.
How much more true are his words today?
From where and whom will the voices of deliverance finally come?
And how can they get people to listen?
You might assume that the above lamentations belong to a contemporary thinker. Instead, they are lifted from the anonymous 1837 publication, "The Holy History of Mankind," released in Stuttgart, Germany. Only years later was it revealed that revolutionary Jewish socialist thinker Moses Hess, a forerunner of the European Zionist movement, wrote "The Holy History" at age 25.
How much more true are his words today?
From where and whom will the voices of deliverance finally come?
And how can they get people to listen?
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Where We Come From
In procrastinating and perusing the internet this evening, I came across a short lesson in Jewish history, one which hit particularly close to home- literally. Abba Hillel Silver, a Lithuanian immigrant to America, was ordained at the Hebrew Union College in Cincinatti, apparently without having even earned a bachelor's degree first at the ripe age of 22. Known for his oratorical skills and as a prolific writer, Silver championed American Zionism which, for his time went against the grain of the Reform movement especially, and against the American Jewish community at large.
He held high positions in a young zionist youth movement in New York and later, as a professional in the American Zionist Movement and the Zionist Organization of America. However, although his achievements impressed me enough to begin reading a book of his orations called, "Vision and Victory: A Collection of Addresses by Dr. Abba Hillel Silver 1942-1948", instead of writing my worthless comp paper on the flaws of homeopathic medicine, I was most struck by his life as a teen in New York and its relevance to the current condition of American Jewish life.
After moving first to the Lower East Side, the Silver family (Abba's dad was an ordained orthodox Rabbi) moved north, to new developments in Harlem for the cheapest rent in Manhattan. In 1900 already, 150 synagogues were operational in Northern Manhattan and the Silvers were no doubt regulars at one of them. (Today, the only Harlem synagogue I know of is the shul at 126 st. and Old Broadway which struggles, even with the addition of a gospel-singing black convert, to make minyan). Abba Hillel's childhood days in old New York were the days when Jews were blue-collar working people- not rich enough to afford the rents of the fashionable upper west side and struggling to get by.
I learned from a website on Abba Hillel's life (www.clevelandjewishhistory.net/silver/endnotes.html#harlem) that in his late teen years Abba Hillel lived at 232 W. 120th St. Struck by this, I strolled down the block tonight, over to the building to check it out. The building at 232, although its face is decorated elaborately, is definately modest. It may look like, or even be the same building that stood a century ago. It's a walk up and two pillars hold up the awning over a small stoop. I could picture Abba Hillel standing on the stoop arguing over a page of text and over Zionism, still such a new phenomenon in his years, with peers and friends. I could picture his family of seven living modestly and practicing their Judaism with intent to preserve their identity- although his father was Orthodox, and Abba was at this time already interested in the Reformers. What a dynamic! I thought how lifestyle and lack of privilege must have effected his Jewish identity and his developing Zionist identity. If most Jewish teens today had to persevere like Silver did, like the American Jews of some generations past, what would Jewish identity look like today- would we still enjoy a somewhat crass, comfortable, seldom challenged, upper class way of life? Would it be so easy to forget who we are?
Obviously, I'm not saying that Jews by-and-large should throw off their suits and ties and return to the factories and the textile industry. Thank God, Jews have achieved enormous success in America. But maybe it's important that we understand where we come from- that Jews didn't always live in mansions in the suburbs or brownstones along West End Ave. Maybe we could use a taste of the sweat and toil of Silver's generation. At least, their labor, which paved the way for us, deserves greater recognition. Perhaps even more so, we could benifit from the deeply ingrained Jewish identity which the American Jews of old just couldn't break, no matter how desperately some wanted to and tried. With kippa or without, being Jewish for Abba Hillel Silver was a fact of life- everyday. It should be a fact of more of our lives too.
And, NEWSFLASH: There are still Jews in Harlem!
He held high positions in a young zionist youth movement in New York and later, as a professional in the American Zionist Movement and the Zionist Organization of America. However, although his achievements impressed me enough to begin reading a book of his orations called, "Vision and Victory: A Collection of Addresses by Dr. Abba Hillel Silver 1942-1948", instead of writing my worthless comp paper on the flaws of homeopathic medicine, I was most struck by his life as a teen in New York and its relevance to the current condition of American Jewish life.
After moving first to the Lower East Side, the Silver family (Abba's dad was an ordained orthodox Rabbi) moved north, to new developments in Harlem for the cheapest rent in Manhattan. In 1900 already, 150 synagogues were operational in Northern Manhattan and the Silvers were no doubt regulars at one of them. (Today, the only Harlem synagogue I know of is the shul at 126 st. and Old Broadway which struggles, even with the addition of a gospel-singing black convert, to make minyan). Abba Hillel's childhood days in old New York were the days when Jews were blue-collar working people- not rich enough to afford the rents of the fashionable upper west side and struggling to get by.
I learned from a website on Abba Hillel's life (www.clevelandjewishhistory.net
Obviously, I'm not saying that Jews by-and-large should throw off their suits and ties and return to the factories and the textile industry. Thank God, Jews have achieved enormous success in America. But maybe it's important that we understand where we come from- that Jews didn't always live in mansions in the suburbs or brownstones along West End Ave. Maybe we could use a taste of the sweat and toil of Silver's generation. At least, their labor, which paved the way for us, deserves greater recognition. Perhaps even more so, we could benifit from the deeply ingrained Jewish identity which the American Jews of old just couldn't break, no matter how desperately some wanted to and tried. With kippa or without, being Jewish for Abba Hillel Silver was a fact of life- everyday. It should be a fact of more of our lives too.
And, NEWSFLASH: There are still Jews in Harlem!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Weekend
I'm completely amazed by how the world has shrunk and yet remains so vast. It's totally overwhelming.
Last Wednesday afternoon I took two trains and traveled for about one hour to get from my apartment in Harlem to the airport in Newark, NJ. The airport security line took almost an hour to pass and strethed a couple hundred feet through the terminal. Everyone was talking on the phone. These little gadgets, sometimes simplified even further by a small earpiece connected people across miles, oceans and seas. Few thought twice about the dozens of languages and nationalities represented in this mass of humanity all rushing to catch a flight.
When walking through an international destiations terminal like at Newark, JFK or Chicago O'hare, have you ever looked at the line of people boarding the flight to Shanghai or Stockholm or Buenos Aires or anywhere and considered how remarkably different their surroundings will become in only a matter of hours? In Newark its particularly interesting because in the same terminal there are those passengers leaving for another continent and those leaving for only another northeast state. I've always wondered about the people going to the most obscure places, something like Mongolia.
On Wednesday I was one of those travelling on Continental to another continent, leaving for Israel. I boarded the plane, got situated, messed around with the entertainment consol and eventually fell asleep. Some hours later I awoke to a breakfast omelet and passed the time by making conversation with my travel neighbor- a somewhat likeminded Israel traveler. Yael Ridberg, the Rabbi at the Reconstructionist Upper West Side Synagogue in Manhattan, and I discussed Israeli politics, compared and contrasted Jewish movements and then played a fruitful round of Jewish geography- finding many common aquaintances and friends. Finally, just a short time later, we landed. I wished the Rabbi well, deplaned, changed currency, and stepped outside to signs in new characters, and policemen wielding uzis. Some things felt so similar to the industrial wasteland from which I departed and so many things so different. And some of these differences, totally intangible. For five days I travelled around Israel- from the airport to Beer Sheva in the south, to an army base close by, back to Beer Sheva with a bunch of soldiers, then on a bus to Jerusalem, on another bus to the Hebrew University, then sleep. Two days, including Shabbat in Jerusalem. A few hours strolling in an old city hundreds of years old, a few minutes with my hands pressed against a 2000 year old wall, a few more minutes trying to connect with the holiness it's assigned. Later, more walking here and there in Jerusalem, then sleep. The next morning, a bus to the city center, lunch, another bus to the bus station, another bus to Haifa, another bus to a friend's apartment in Haifa, a taxi to a bar at the beach, a few drinks, a taxi back, then sleep. A bus back to Jerusalem in the morning, a bus from the bus station to Hebrew Union College, a walk to collect my things and a stop to check my email and quickly record some scattered thoughts. In just a few minutes, I'll get up, take another bus to the bus station, followed by a bus to Tel Aviv, I'll eat dinner with a friend then take one more bus the aiport, go through security along with dozens of others leaving for dozens of destinations across the globe, board the plane, get situated, play with the entertainment consol, sleep, eat an omelet, most likely make conversation with the person next to me, land, take two trains to get back to my apartment, undress and shower, walk to the subway at 125 st, Harlem, ride a train to 184 st, walk to class and sit down to learn. oy.
Even half a century ago, such commotion wasn't really possible. We take it for granted.
My ability to go to Israel and back a in so little time, covering so much space in terms of mileage, language, culture and reality leaves me not knowing where to begin processing or when I'll have a moment to do so. Hopefully, I'll gain some insight and a grip on things after not too long.... one thing is certain- Israel is as lovely as ever.
I'm off to Tel Aviv.
Last Wednesday afternoon I took two trains and traveled for about one hour to get from my apartment in Harlem to the airport in Newark, NJ. The airport security line took almost an hour to pass and strethed a couple hundred feet through the terminal. Everyone was talking on the phone. These little gadgets, sometimes simplified even further by a small earpiece connected people across miles, oceans and seas. Few thought twice about the dozens of languages and nationalities represented in this mass of humanity all rushing to catch a flight.
When walking through an international destiations terminal like at Newark, JFK or Chicago O'hare, have you ever looked at the line of people boarding the flight to Shanghai or Stockholm or Buenos Aires or anywhere and considered how remarkably different their surroundings will become in only a matter of hours? In Newark its particularly interesting because in the same terminal there are those passengers leaving for another continent and those leaving for only another northeast state. I've always wondered about the people going to the most obscure places, something like Mongolia.
On Wednesday I was one of those travelling on Continental to another continent, leaving for Israel. I boarded the plane, got situated, messed around with the entertainment consol and eventually fell asleep. Some hours later I awoke to a breakfast omelet and passed the time by making conversation with my travel neighbor- a somewhat likeminded Israel traveler. Yael Ridberg, the Rabbi at the Reconstructionist Upper West Side Synagogue in Manhattan, and I discussed Israeli politics, compared and contrasted Jewish movements and then played a fruitful round of Jewish geography- finding many common aquaintances and friends. Finally, just a short time later, we landed. I wished the Rabbi well, deplaned, changed currency, and stepped outside to signs in new characters, and policemen wielding uzis. Some things felt so similar to the industrial wasteland from which I departed and so many things so different. And some of these differences, totally intangible. For five days I travelled around Israel- from the airport to Beer Sheva in the south, to an army base close by, back to Beer Sheva with a bunch of soldiers, then on a bus to Jerusalem, on another bus to the Hebrew University, then sleep. Two days, including Shabbat in Jerusalem. A few hours strolling in an old city hundreds of years old, a few minutes with my hands pressed against a 2000 year old wall, a few more minutes trying to connect with the holiness it's assigned. Later, more walking here and there in Jerusalem, then sleep. The next morning, a bus to the city center, lunch, another bus to the bus station, another bus to Haifa, another bus to a friend's apartment in Haifa, a taxi to a bar at the beach, a few drinks, a taxi back, then sleep. A bus back to Jerusalem in the morning, a bus from the bus station to Hebrew Union College, a walk to collect my things and a stop to check my email and quickly record some scattered thoughts. In just a few minutes, I'll get up, take another bus to the bus station, followed by a bus to Tel Aviv, I'll eat dinner with a friend then take one more bus the aiport, go through security along with dozens of others leaving for dozens of destinations across the globe, board the plane, get situated, play with the entertainment consol, sleep, eat an omelet, most likely make conversation with the person next to me, land, take two trains to get back to my apartment, undress and shower, walk to the subway at 125 st, Harlem, ride a train to 184 st, walk to class and sit down to learn. oy.
Even half a century ago, such commotion wasn't really possible. We take it for granted.
My ability to go to Israel and back a in so little time, covering so much space in terms of mileage, language, culture and reality leaves me not knowing where to begin processing or when I'll have a moment to do so. Hopefully, I'll gain some insight and a grip on things after not too long.... one thing is certain- Israel is as lovely as ever.
I'm off to Tel Aviv.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
New Yorkers Love Thy Neighbor #2 (Literally this time)
So I live on 119st between Frederick Douglass Ave and St. Nicholas Ave. If you couldn't make it out by the street names or numbers, that is- Central Harlem, USA. It's an interesting neighborhood and despite being harassed periodically for the white color of my skin with comments like, "Damn crackers comin' up in here," and having a soda can thrown at me once, I can't really complain much. One problem that was nagging me however, and it had nothing to do with the neighborhood, was the close proximity of my building to the other one immediately out my living room window. As in, from my living room window I can see directly into someone's bedroom about 40-ish feet away and from the window above our kitchen sink I can jump onto the neighbor's balcony. This layout became increasingly interesting only recently.
You see, my "work area" (as if I do much of my schoolwork) is positioned with my computer at a table looking straight out and therefore straight into my neighbor's bedroom. I had never seen anyone in there before until about two weeks ago when a nice looking young woman probably in her early-mid twenties came strolling in there, as if straight out of the shower almost totally indisposed. I am not a freak and am disinterested in voyeurism, so I glanced away (really, I did). In the few seconds with my eyes adrift she must have walked over, still unclothed to her shades to pull them down because when I looked up again, there she was! We made eye contact. It was extremely awkward. A few days later I caught her in a towel and then for days after that in varying degrees of exposure. Finally yesterday I made eye contact again with the woman, wearing clothes this time, and we both glanced away immediately. She bolted from the room and returned with another woman pointing at my window. I hid under the table trying to peer out at the situation unfolding and decided that this nameless, awkward exchange needed to stop. So I tore apart a box, popped open a marker and posted a sign on my window reading, "Hi, my name is Aaron. I apologize that our buildings are awkwardly close." This evening, I saw no movement in the room and figured that she either hadn't seen my gesture or had seen it and thought, "This Aaron guy is a creep." Alas, I went out for a few minutes to pick up clothes at the laundromat and returned to a response. "Hi, I'm Linnea." More, there was a huge colored-in smiley face on the post.
I'm intrigued. I thought things like this only happen in annoying romantic comedies starring Meg Ryan, but perhaps I was mistaken. I know, I know, "Linnea" sounds a little to goyishe for me... but honestly, I'm not looking for romance from the girl next door. I only find it fascinating that we, I or she, might invest in a short-lived, short-spoken (or written) conversation across such a seemingly small space.
Everyone loves or hates New York because there is so much happening and so many people. I love/hate New York because while people cram into small spaces, push, bump and accidentally spy on eachother, they sometimes only "connect" by way of unlikelihoods like my Sharpie's print on the side of a cardboard box.
Where will my conversation with my new friend, Linnea lead? Will we ever meet? She lives right around the block! We've probably crossed paths already and not even known it.
You see, my "work area" (as if I do much of my schoolwork) is positioned with my computer at a table looking straight out and therefore straight into my neighbor's bedroom. I had never seen anyone in there before until about two weeks ago when a nice looking young woman probably in her early-mid twenties came strolling in there, as if straight out of the shower almost totally indisposed. I am not a freak and am disinterested in voyeurism, so I glanced away (really, I did). In the few seconds with my eyes adrift she must have walked over, still unclothed to her shades to pull them down because when I looked up again, there she was! We made eye contact. It was extremely awkward. A few days later I caught her in a towel and then for days after that in varying degrees of exposure. Finally yesterday I made eye contact again with the woman, wearing clothes this time, and we both glanced away immediately. She bolted from the room and returned with another woman pointing at my window. I hid under the table trying to peer out at the situation unfolding and decided that this nameless, awkward exchange needed to stop. So I tore apart a box, popped open a marker and posted a sign on my window reading, "Hi, my name is Aaron. I apologize that our buildings are awkwardly close." This evening, I saw no movement in the room and figured that she either hadn't seen my gesture or had seen it and thought, "This Aaron guy is a creep." Alas, I went out for a few minutes to pick up clothes at the laundromat and returned to a response. "Hi, I'm Linnea." More, there was a huge colored-in smiley face on the post.
I'm intrigued. I thought things like this only happen in annoying romantic comedies starring Meg Ryan, but perhaps I was mistaken. I know, I know, "Linnea" sounds a little to goyishe for me... but honestly, I'm not looking for romance from the girl next door. I only find it fascinating that we, I or she, might invest in a short-lived, short-spoken (or written) conversation across such a seemingly small space.
Everyone loves or hates New York because there is so much happening and so many people. I love/hate New York because while people cram into small spaces, push, bump and accidentally spy on eachother, they sometimes only "connect" by way of unlikelihoods like my Sharpie's print on the side of a cardboard box.
Where will my conversation with my new friend, Linnea lead? Will we ever meet? She lives right around the block! We've probably crossed paths already and not even known it.
Monday, November 06, 2006
You Have to Watch This
You must watch this. For roughly 2 minutes 46 seconds I was happy to be a YU student. This is worth the watch... Yeah, I see these guys around campus.
http://campusj.com/2006/10/12/so-yeshiva-u-guys-think-they-can-dance/
http://campusj.com/2006/10/12/so-yeshiva-u-guys-think-they-can-dance/
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Sanz Klausenburg Rebbe Throwing Apples
Two different religions called "Judaism"- Hareidi-Hasidism and everybody else.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3327888442057520412&q=apples+sanz
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3327888442057520412&q=apples+sanz
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
Reflections on Israel at KESHER Convention
To be honest, I was slightly nervous about Kesher Convention (this past weekend at U of Florida, Gainesville). With only about 40 participants, far fewer than last years 100+ at the Biennial, I was concerned that the conference might lack energy. Back in New York, I am confident that my concern was mostly unwarranted. Actually, the smaller community allowed more one-on-one interaction and discussion and the somewhat absurd faculty to participant ratio of like 1:2 allowed us to get to know our guests better than usual. This was especially significant because a high proportion of these guests were at Convention representing Israel. Israel had a major place at Convention. In addition to the 40 students, 3 shlichim came from Zionist Culture Connection, Liran the ARZA Aliyah Shlicha was there, Alex represented Kibbutz Lotan in the Arava, Maoz Haviv represented Netzer Olami as their director and of course Dotan the KESHER shaliach staffed the event. This means Israelis were basically everywhere and a few American guests also came representing other Zionist causes. Still, Israel's presence was not emphasized by presentations, speakers or workshops but rather in the extra-programatic dialogue shared by our Israeli guests and many of the participants. This is the best kind of Israel exposure. Here's an example that I found to be particularly remarkable.
Adi Blachinsky, a Shlicha from some organization that sends shlichim places (It doesn't really matter because there are a million of them) is your average secular Israeli. In just a couple of weeks she will be returning to Israel and frantically searching for an apartment in Tel Aviv before beginning business classes. This is a scenario not so unlike one we all might face. Her bio and life standing does not seem so impressive. But she is.
Over the BBQ dinner on Sat night, Adi and I spoke for well over an hour about many things. Two stood out. While travelling around Mexico, Central and South America, Adi randomly ran into two German grandaugters of a Nazi soldier. For some weeks, she joined them backpacking here and there and told me of her deep and intimate conversations with them about Israel and her family, how she noticed one of the girls wearing a ring with the SS symbol as if it were trendy and about how they bonded and became friends when other circumstances might find them as foes. Adi remains in touch with her German friends and insists that had the Germans not met her, they would have remained largely ignorant of Israelis and Jews despite their lineage. But this was not all that impressed me about her.
She told me how much she loved her army service. Adi was in an education unit and taught classes on topics ranging from Israeli identity to ethics. She told me of one of her soldier/students whose name I didn't catch so we'll call him Chaim. Adi recalled the day when Chaim ran up to her and embraced her and whispered in her ear, "todah rabah, adi". But why?
Soldiers patrolling in a hostile area which is observing a curfew are taught to fire at anyone out past the curfew who appears to be threatening or holding a weapon. On one patrol, Chaim and his tankmates spotted a man carrying something suspect and moving discreetly through the streets. He was coming closer to the soldier's position. Nervous, Chaim's partners were ready to shoot the imposter but Chaim insisted they wait till he got closer. He came closer and again they were ready to shoot but Chaim wanted to wait just a few seconds longer. The man got close enough and as the soldiers aimed, they saw the man was not carrying a gun or bomb, but instead cradling a baby... for this Chaim credited Adi.
Adi is just 24. Chaim not older than 22. And although Adi told the story in such a matter-of-fact manner as Israelis do, for me it had tremendous power.
I don't think most of us love Israel because some diplomat comes to our campus to speak about the repercussions of the war with Lebanon, I think we love Israel because of Israelis like Adi and stories like the one I documented above.
The presence of so many Israelis at Kesher Convention is tremendous. This is one example of a growing trend towards a more emphatic Israel presence throughout our movement and at its functions. As we continue to raise awareness of and passion for Israel, we better serve Israel by presenting her not as an objective entity of war and peace but rather as Adi's home, moved by Adi's stories and many others like them.
Adi Blachinsky, a Shlicha from some organization that sends shlichim places (It doesn't really matter because there are a million of them) is your average secular Israeli. In just a couple of weeks she will be returning to Israel and frantically searching for an apartment in Tel Aviv before beginning business classes. This is a scenario not so unlike one we all might face. Her bio and life standing does not seem so impressive. But she is.
Over the BBQ dinner on Sat night, Adi and I spoke for well over an hour about many things. Two stood out. While travelling around Mexico, Central and South America, Adi randomly ran into two German grandaugters of a Nazi soldier. For some weeks, she joined them backpacking here and there and told me of her deep and intimate conversations with them about Israel and her family, how she noticed one of the girls wearing a ring with the SS symbol as if it were trendy and about how they bonded and became friends when other circumstances might find them as foes. Adi remains in touch with her German friends and insists that had the Germans not met her, they would have remained largely ignorant of Israelis and Jews despite their lineage. But this was not all that impressed me about her.
She told me how much she loved her army service. Adi was in an education unit and taught classes on topics ranging from Israeli identity to ethics. She told me of one of her soldier/students whose name I didn't catch so we'll call him Chaim. Adi recalled the day when Chaim ran up to her and embraced her and whispered in her ear, "todah rabah, adi". But why?
Soldiers patrolling in a hostile area which is observing a curfew are taught to fire at anyone out past the curfew who appears to be threatening or holding a weapon. On one patrol, Chaim and his tankmates spotted a man carrying something suspect and moving discreetly through the streets. He was coming closer to the soldier's position. Nervous, Chaim's partners were ready to shoot the imposter but Chaim insisted they wait till he got closer. He came closer and again they were ready to shoot but Chaim wanted to wait just a few seconds longer. The man got close enough and as the soldiers aimed, they saw the man was not carrying a gun or bomb, but instead cradling a baby... for this Chaim credited Adi.
Adi is just 24. Chaim not older than 22. And although Adi told the story in such a matter-of-fact manner as Israelis do, for me it had tremendous power.
I don't think most of us love Israel because some diplomat comes to our campus to speak about the repercussions of the war with Lebanon, I think we love Israel because of Israelis like Adi and stories like the one I documented above.
The presence of so many Israelis at Kesher Convention is tremendous. This is one example of a growing trend towards a more emphatic Israel presence throughout our movement and at its functions. As we continue to raise awareness of and passion for Israel, we better serve Israel by presenting her not as an objective entity of war and peace but rather as Adi's home, moved by Adi's stories and many others like them.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Israel Talk Re: Einat Wilf (author)
Einat Wilf is a writer and a member of Kol Dor, a worldwide network of young jews dedicated to the rethinking of the Jewish world from a global perspective. Sounds like an interesting organization. She writes extensively in various publications and another article she authored titled, "Mitzvot of Peoplehood", took a rather revolutionary approach to basically redefining what it means to be a Jew. It's worth a read http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3041999,00.html .
I'm not sure that I really like the way she writes, but she does write with a spirit which juxtaposes the other Wilf I'm familiar with, the name of my campus at Yeshiva University. The Wilf Campus of YU is virtually dead, while Einat Wilf's ideas and writings are very much alive. This said, I 'm not sure her head is screwed on quite straight. Like anyone with revolutionary ideas, she finds her self stuck between optimism and pessimism and asks questions much more quickly and effectively than she can answer them.
Another article she wrote delved deep in to the issues and questions which arose post the summer conflict between Israel and Lebanon. Like Wilf, our focus with Israel and Israel's focus ought to remain like it was before being distracted by the summer's violent affairs- focused on Israel's social and economic development. Israel needs to re-access its character and this is precisely what Einat and many others like her are trying to do.
In the most recently aforementioned article, Wilf's discussion of Israel's dissallusionment with her leadership was especially striking to me. If Israelis do not have faith in the ability of their government to lead, it will become increasingly difficult for Jews throughout the world to stand with Israel wherever she may stand. Perhaps what Israel lacks is a leader of the David Ben-Gurion or Aaron David Gordon caliber. Where might a leader like this come from? Can Israeli society see another leader like this ascend to a position of leadership? Recently a former Kesher/ARZA fellow who recently made aliyah, Zack Katowitz, posted an interesting piece as a facebook note (yes, the facebook note is a strange phenomenon-Zack didn't write this but found it). I think what follows is something to consider.... it's a little long but worth the read....
"It seems the only thing people concerned with Israeli politics can talk about these days is the fact that there is absolutely no inpsiring leadership anywhere on the horizon. Everyone recognizes that this is bad news for the Jewish State, but it also bodes ill for North American Jewry, particularly the younger generation.
Israeli leaders have always been a counterpoint to the typical American Jewish leader. While the stereotypical Israeli leader is a general, a kibbutz founder, a thinker-pioneers, or some other version of an action hero, the image of an American Jewish leader is a successful whitecollar warrior. Indeed, in the States, where there are no Jewish community elections, a big bank account is one of the keys to gaining sway over the institutions that manage Jewish communal affairs.
The presence of these Israeli leaders meant that young American Jewish kids who were interested in community leaderrship were exposed not only to the "make alot of money and be a philanthropist/board member/strategic planning committee director for Super Sunday" model of Jewish leadership, but also to the Israeli "after me damn it to all hell" style of leadership. And, since the American Jewish leadership, and by extension American Jewish parents, respected Israelis heroes such as Ben Gurion, Begin, Dayan, Meir, Alon, their kids were able to consider following in these Israelis more drastic footsteps (even in the face of their parents' on the face of it disapproval) and not focus their lives on the traditional path to success, as reperesented by their parents and local leadership. Indeed, the model of these Israeli leaders probably inluenced many young American Jews to be more daring even in their traditional occupations in the States.
But now, since Sharon's exit, Israeli leadership comes across as less heroic than a federation board, and about as interesting. Sometimes the leaders of Israel even feel more like subsidiaries of American Jewry rather than partners. One thing is for sure: these leaders do not tug at the heartstrings of the youth anymore by inspiring them about Zionism and the life of the sovereign Jew.
This dearth of leadership could mean the death of the Israeli hero leader stereotype, leaving American youth without a critical revolutionary model that can inspire them in a different way than the typical example from the American context. We need Israeli leaders not only for the sake of Israel, but for the sake of the whole Jewish People."
What has created this "dearth of leadership" and can the force be countered?
I'm not sure that I really like the way she writes, but she does write with a spirit which juxtaposes the other Wilf I'm familiar with, the name of my campus at Yeshiva University. The Wilf Campus of YU is virtually dead, while Einat Wilf's ideas and writings are very much alive. This said, I 'm not sure her head is screwed on quite straight. Like anyone with revolutionary ideas, she finds her self stuck between optimism and pessimism and asks questions much more quickly and effectively than she can answer them.
Another article she wrote delved deep in to the issues and questions which arose post the summer conflict between Israel and Lebanon. Like Wilf, our focus with Israel and Israel's focus ought to remain like it was before being distracted by the summer's violent affairs- focused on Israel's social and economic development. Israel needs to re-access its character and this is precisely what Einat and many others like her are trying to do.
In the most recently aforementioned article, Wilf's discussion of Israel's dissallusionment with her leadership was especially striking to me. If Israelis do not have faith in the ability of their government to lead, it will become increasingly difficult for Jews throughout the world to stand with Israel wherever she may stand. Perhaps what Israel lacks is a leader of the David Ben-Gurion or Aaron David Gordon caliber. Where might a leader like this come from? Can Israeli society see another leader like this ascend to a position of leadership? Recently a former Kesher/ARZA fellow who recently made aliyah, Zack Katowitz, posted an interesting piece as a facebook note (yes, the facebook note is a strange phenomenon-Zack didn't write this but found it). I think what follows is something to consider.... it's a little long but worth the read....
"It seems the only thing people concerned with Israeli politics can talk about these days is the fact that there is absolutely no inpsiring leadership anywhere on the horizon. Everyone recognizes that this is bad news for the Jewish State, but it also bodes ill for North American Jewry, particularly the younger generation.
Israeli leaders have always been a counterpoint to the typical American Jewish leader. While the stereotypical Israeli leader is a general, a kibbutz founder, a thinker-pioneers, or some other version of an action hero, the image of an American Jewish leader is a successful whitecollar warrior. Indeed, in the States, where there are no Jewish community elections, a big bank account is one of the keys to gaining sway over the institutions that manage Jewish communal affairs.
The presence of these Israeli leaders meant that young American Jewish kids who were interested in community leaderrship were exposed not only to the "make alot of money and be a philanthropist/board member/strategic planning committee director for Super Sunday" model of Jewish leadership, but also to the Israeli "after me damn it to all hell" style of leadership. And, since the American Jewish leadership, and by extension American Jewish parents, respected Israelis heroes such as Ben Gurion, Begin, Dayan, Meir, Alon, their kids were able to consider following in these Israelis more drastic footsteps (even in the face of their parents' on the face of it disapproval) and not focus their lives on the traditional path to success, as reperesented by their parents and local leadership. Indeed, the model of these Israeli leaders probably inluenced many young American Jews to be more daring even in their traditional occupations in the States.
But now, since Sharon's exit, Israeli leadership comes across as less heroic than a federation board, and about as interesting. Sometimes the leaders of Israel even feel more like subsidiaries of American Jewry rather than partners. One thing is for sure: these leaders do not tug at the heartstrings of the youth anymore by inspiring them about Zionism and the life of the sovereign Jew.
This dearth of leadership could mean the death of the Israeli hero leader stereotype, leaving American youth without a critical revolutionary model that can inspire them in a different way than the typical example from the American context. We need Israeli leaders not only for the sake of Israel, but for the sake of the whole Jewish People."
What has created this "dearth of leadership" and can the force be countered?
Youth Group Woes
I was beginning to think that the entire effort was a bit hopeless. Starting a youth group in Long Island, Oceanside, NY might be impossible. The kids I hoped would join Temple Avodah Temple Youth (TATY) were not endowed by their parents with any kind of Jewish identity and the difficulty of conveying the importance or value of anything Jewish to the parents exceeded the difficulty of reaching their kids. The year began- a start-up group, a work in trial and error process, facing major challenges.
The first event was a battle between the leaders- me and three others- and the fifth and sixth graders. They were chaotic and out of control and we were at a loss for how to hold things down. The idea was for an introductory/identity
program- a meet and greet type of thing for the first day.
Part I- we were to introduce ourselves suggesting something unique about us. That already was difficult as people refused to remain quiet to hear everyone else. By the end, the kids didn't even want to introduce themselves because of all the disruption. I'm desperate: #1.
Part II- Break up into two groups and pass out jolly ranchers- each flavor corresponded to a different story or fun fact you had to share. Result: total failure, the kids won't even break into groups, maybe that's too much to ask of 11 year olds. I'm desperate #2
Part III- Take a small piece of paper and write on it: one thing that you like to do outside of school and two things that are important to you. Then put the piece of paper in a balloon and blow up the balloon. Pop the balloons and pick up a piece of paper from a random balloon, sharing it with the rest of the group.
Result 1: Almost Ok- they did what was asked but then started bursting the balloons immediately although we had said to wait.
Result 2: The papers in the ballons read: "Things that are important to me: shopping, video games, sports jerseys, etc"
hmmm... an interesting diagnostic, I see there is work to
be done and I'm still a bit desperate.
Part IV- a bunch of running around without order and eating pizza; much of which ended up on the floor.
Conclusion: The battle was a defeat, or a stalemate at best. For some reason a few of the disruptive kids seemed to have had a "good" time but still... I had accomplished little in terms of youth group building. leaving, I asked for a little help: "There must be some model, idea, program, something that'll work- I need to figure it out! Please, idea, do me a favor, 'Come out, come out, wherever you are!'"
There was about three weeks between events. I was a little dejected after having failed, by my standards, and was literally terrified of returning to that wrecked temple. However, I have a job, it pays well, obviously I'm not quitting.
I thought and thought about what I could do the second time to accomplish a few things:
1. better control the group
2. start to build the group and have the kids take some ownership of their group
3. have more kids, the good ones leave feeling like they'd had a good time.
I came to event number 2 on Oct. 17 still pleading with some solution to reveal itself although I brought some haphazard gameplan.
My idea made enough sense- split the kids into groups based on interest and have them create a collective portrait of themselves on a posterboard- making a whole poster and determining a symbol which they would contribute to an entire youth group poster to be hanged in the temple. I thought it would allow the kids to be with their friends and make a couple new ones and maybe give them more incentive to express themselves productively.
I got there. The kids came. They were loud. They were out of control and not listening and I'm off to a horrid start, desperate and scrambling to recover.
I give them pizza to temper the storm.
During the pizza eating one of the kids, David, asks demandingly- "Can we play hide and go seek in the entire Temple?" hmm......
If you've taken an Introduction to Judaism class or are familiar with the fledgling movement for Reform Jewish day schools, you've heard about Pardes- Peshat, Remes, Drash, Sod. In short, it represents a method of study moving from the most simple, literal interpretation of textual verses to deeper and more developed study, uncovering hidden meanings and the essence of the words on the page.
After a long pause with this kid pulling at my arm, I respond, "Sure, let's see who else will play." Just about every kid wanted to play and so risking more chaos and disaster, we went for it... the kids followed the rules, played and played multiple rounds and as some parents started to stream in, they saw evidence of their kids having fun (a key to success). At the end, I yelled, "Come out come out wherever you are," through the Temple lobby. As we collected the kids their faces beamed with excitement. Gathering back in our youth lounge, I suggested that before wrapping up, a few kids should volunteer to make a poster for TATY, our youth group. Several jumped at the opportunity and produced a color-blended, scribbled and hideous, but nonetheless for me, triumphant testament to the fact that our youth group had launched. It hangs like a
plaque in the religious school wing, not so high as to suggest it's the defining product of a year's work but as a symbol of our potential and the excitment of our future. All the kids left this event thrilled and they'll come back.
Waiting for a train back to Penn Station I reflected on the wisdom of my Gemera teacher and the wisdom of David, the fidgety sixth grader demanding a silly kids game. There must be some kind of Pardes in this uphill struggle we call Reform youth work. If you attempt the deep stuff too fast, you're falling flat on your face. I had.
Instead, stick to the basics- even a simple impromptu game of hide and seek. To my delight, the kids responded to my "Come out, come out" call twice without even knowing it. First, they simply listened and emerged from their hiding places in the foyer (Baruch HaShem). And in doing so they afforded me some insight into how they could be reached. The easy stuff, Pashat first.
Its possible that event #3 will bomb like #1. But at least I have an idea for the future. Hide and seek again. This time we're not searching for David, Alex, and Ryan. I'm sending them through the temple halls after mezuzot, tallitot and chumashim to learn about Jewish ritual items- I just hope this place has those in stock.
The first event was a battle between the leaders- me and three others- and the fifth and sixth graders. They were chaotic and out of control and we were at a loss for how to hold things down. The idea was for an introductory/identity
program- a meet and greet type of thing for the first day.
Part I- we were to introduce ourselves suggesting something unique about us. That already was difficult as people refused to remain quiet to hear everyone else. By the end, the kids didn't even want to introduce themselves because of all the disruption. I'm desperate: #1.
Part II- Break up into two groups and pass out jolly ranchers- each flavor corresponded to a different story or fun fact you had to share. Result: total failure, the kids won't even break into groups, maybe that's too much to ask of 11 year olds. I'm desperate #2
Part III- Take a small piece of paper and write on it: one thing that you like to do outside of school and two things that are important to you. Then put the piece of paper in a balloon and blow up the balloon. Pop the balloons and pick up a piece of paper from a random balloon, sharing it with the rest of the group.
Result 1: Almost Ok- they did what was asked but then started bursting the balloons immediately although we had said to wait.
Result 2: The papers in the ballons read: "Things that are important to me: shopping, video games, sports jerseys, etc"
hmmm... an interesting diagnostic, I see there is work to
be done and I'm still a bit desperate.
Part IV- a bunch of running around without order and eating pizza; much of which ended up on the floor.
Conclusion: The battle was a defeat, or a stalemate at best. For some reason a few of the disruptive kids seemed to have had a "good" time but still... I had accomplished little in terms of youth group building. leaving, I asked for a little help: "There must be some model, idea, program, something that'll work- I need to figure it out! Please, idea, do me a favor, 'Come out, come out, wherever you are!'"
There was about three weeks between events. I was a little dejected after having failed, by my standards, and was literally terrified of returning to that wrecked temple. However, I have a job, it pays well, obviously I'm not quitting.
I thought and thought about what I could do the second time to accomplish a few things:
1. better control the group
2. start to build the group and have the kids take some ownership of their group
3. have more kids, the good ones leave feeling like they'd had a good time.
I came to event number 2 on Oct. 17 still pleading with some solution to reveal itself although I brought some haphazard gameplan.
My idea made enough sense- split the kids into groups based on interest and have them create a collective portrait of themselves on a posterboard- making a whole poster and determining a symbol which they would contribute to an entire youth group poster to be hanged in the temple. I thought it would allow the kids to be with their friends and make a couple new ones and maybe give them more incentive to express themselves productively.
I got there. The kids came. They were loud. They were out of control and not listening and I'm off to a horrid start, desperate and scrambling to recover.
I give them pizza to temper the storm.
During the pizza eating one of the kids, David, asks demandingly- "Can we play hide and go seek in the entire Temple?" hmm......
If you've taken an Introduction to Judaism class or are familiar with the fledgling movement for Reform Jewish day schools, you've heard about Pardes- Peshat, Remes, Drash, Sod. In short, it represents a method of study moving from the most simple, literal interpretation of textual verses to deeper and more developed study, uncovering hidden meanings and the essence of the words on the page.
After a long pause with this kid pulling at my arm, I respond, "Sure, let's see who else will play." Just about every kid wanted to play and so risking more chaos and disaster, we went for it... the kids followed the rules, played and played multiple rounds and as some parents started to stream in, they saw evidence of their kids having fun (a key to success). At the end, I yelled, "Come out come out wherever you are," through the Temple lobby. As we collected the kids their faces beamed with excitement. Gathering back in our youth lounge, I suggested that before wrapping up, a few kids should volunteer to make a poster for TATY, our youth group. Several jumped at the opportunity and produced a color-blended, scribbled and hideous, but nonetheless for me, triumphant testament to the fact that our youth group had launched. It hangs like a
plaque in the religious school wing, not so high as to suggest it's the defining product of a year's work but as a symbol of our potential and the excitment of our future. All the kids left this event thrilled and they'll come back.
Waiting for a train back to Penn Station I reflected on the wisdom of my Gemera teacher and the wisdom of David, the fidgety sixth grader demanding a silly kids game. There must be some kind of Pardes in this uphill struggle we call Reform youth work. If you attempt the deep stuff too fast, you're falling flat on your face. I had.
Instead, stick to the basics- even a simple impromptu game of hide and seek. To my delight, the kids responded to my "Come out, come out" call twice without even knowing it. First, they simply listened and emerged from their hiding places in the foyer (Baruch HaShem). And in doing so they afforded me some insight into how they could be reached. The easy stuff, Pashat first.
Its possible that event #3 will bomb like #1. But at least I have an idea for the future. Hide and seek again. This time we're not searching for David, Alex, and Ryan. I'm sending them through the temple halls after mezuzot, tallitot and chumashim to learn about Jewish ritual items- I just hope this place has those in stock.
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