Shana Tova!

Happy New Year from Jerusalem!

(Photo -- Moishe blowing a little Shofar in Jerusalem, or, as we say where I come from, Sho-far, Sho-good. I am sorry. I apologize. Really.)


I am shocked that this time is nearly over. Only two weeks before I am back in Seattle, hardly more than one of my winter business trips where I get stuck in Chicago after O'Hare closes down. Beginning my preparations to leave is certainly bittersweet. On one side, I miss Sandra desperately and will call it a beautiful day when I am back with her. On the other side, however, there is not a whole lot to compare to living in Jerusalem. I feel that I have become a part of this place, and without a doubt this city is deep inside of me. As fast as this time has passed, I have lived a lifetime of experience, met a score of people that I love as brothers and sisters, and have discovered a deepening in my own Judaism -- not through some call to frommigkeit, but rather through connecting to the land that is its foundation and connecting to perspectives of Judaism that can only be experienced here. I never exactly buried my hands in the earth when the plane landed -- this is a little difficult at Ben Gurion Airport, but I feel as though the land has dug its hands into me. Life has somehow simultaneously become more joyful and more serious, and I am just grateful grateful grateful that I did not hesitate to come here.

Quick hits from around Jerusalem before the holiday:

I am spending the weekend with a host-family from HUC -- professor or student I will find out later today. I have already spent some quality time getting to know my future colleagues as Rabbis as well as some of the professors and leadership at HUC, where I will be studying in 2009 (2009??? Oi Vey!) I have met a multitude of high quality human beings and sincere future leaders of our communities. What a privilege! The only thing I cannot figure -- Tashlikh is apparently being celebrated in the Old City. Where is there open water in the Old City??? Or Jerusalem, for that matter? Stay tuned for this breaking story . . .

Almost at the end of the Ulpan, I now can see and feel just how far I/we have come. With 200 hours of instruction, we have solidly covered a full year of college Hebrew, and it shows. I wrote my first full length essay last night as part of a final project, and as I proofread the paper I was shocked at how far we had come. I have no illusions that I have suddenly turned into a fluent speaker or writer, but the foundation given through this Ulpan is tremendous. I'll be able to work on my own over the next year to solidify what I have learned and move forward with new studies. As I continue studying, in addition to Ulpan, Torah, Talmud, and more and more prayers in the Siddur, I realize as well the other benefits of this time -- what once took longer than I care to mention is now much more fluid -- yet even more important, the depth of understanding of the meaning of the words adds so much to the experience of, for example, chanting from Torah. As a little side note, the change in class has also been beneficial-- my retention and comprehension have doubled, my grades have solidified and my stress level is DOWN!

One of the highlights among highlights of my time here has been the weekly study with the Chassidic rabbi. We have spent 5 weeks now on two chapters of the Tania, and every time we conclude a session (and, ehem, finish one or more L'chaims) I can hardly sleep with all the inspiration coursing through me. This week we spent the time (in between L'chaim's) appropriately talking about how in Judaism, rather than discounting the flesh, there is a recognition of the holiness of the flesh. Although there is a book to be written on this subject, I think what this boils down to is that in a purely spiritual existence there can be no free will, as that spiritual existence is closer to the non-differentiated existence of HaShem. The fact that all the Mitzvot are a matter of choice to be performed in the flesh, make the flesh holy in a different way then a spiritual existence, as the mitzvot cannot be performed as spirit, but only as flesh. For you logical positivists that just yawned and are getting ready to move on, let me put it this way-- a dead or net-yet-born person (obviously) cannot perform any action of Tikkun Olam -- they cannot heal the world. Only in a human body -- only as an existing creature that can distinguish the ethical from the non-ethical -- can we choose to be ethical. This choice, and the ability to make this choice, is a rational definition of holy.

And while I am covering Jewish issues, let me add that one of the biggest challenges for me here has been to reconcile my emotions and opinions regarding the various Haredi communities that I have seen, met, and interacted with (at least to some extent.) My thoughts and emotions here are strong enough that I will probably dedicate a full post to working out my thoughts, but let me at least say this: I have heard the term "Ultra-Orthodox" used to describe the Haredi communities, and I now reject this term. I reject it not because it is a somewhat offensive term to these communities, although it is, but because I think it unconsciously affects (in a negative way) the way we perceive ourselves. By saying "Ultra-Orthodox" we solidify in our minds an imaginary line -- a continuum with Ultra-Orthodox on one side and Reform on the other. The result of this imagined line is a totally false final picture that Haredi Jews follow the Mitzvot and Reform do not. And worse, and don't tell me, my Reform friends, that you have not done this-- somewhere, deep down in the parts of your soul that you seldom admit are there, you say to yourself, "They are authentic Jews," which brings up the even worse corollary, "and I am not." So let me humbly offer an alternative visualization when we think of the of various communities of Jews around the world. Instead of a line, I want you to think of a starburst. At the point in the center is HaBrit, the literal/metaphorical/allagorical/mystical convenant made between Jews and the Universe as HaShem. Emanating out from the center, yet all equidistant, are all of our sincere attempts to struggle with the hereditary and spiritual reality of that covenant. Yes, most people in my Shul do not lay tefillin every day, but I'll see your tefillin and raise you an active Social Action community -- one that humbly and often times very quietly makes a tremendous difference to both Jews and Non-Jews in the Seattle area. Which is the "greater" Mitzvah? Do we even want to argue this? All of our communities offer various ways to challenge ourselves to relate to universal and infinite reality in ways both tangible and purely spiritual, and all are valid, supportable, powerful, and may one day even be recognized as such. As long as we as Jews are struggling with HaShem, we are by the definition of "Israel" children of Israel-- Jews. The day we stop struggling in any way, be it through study of the law, deep observance, social action, pastoral care, being a member of a burial society, etc, etc, etc is the day we need to question our own authenticity -- not because we choose to or choose not to wear a black hat.

Shana Tova to you all,

Moishe.