Israel Archives - Rabbi Sharon Sobel

Beyond the Covered Bridge: Finding Sinai in a Fractured World

In a fractured world marked by hatred and division, Shavuot calls us to moral courage, human dignity, and the sacred work of repair.

This morning, I decided to take a detour from my usual walking route and explore an unfamiliar path. My mind felt heavy from the weight of the world this past week, and I longed for the quiet serenity of nature.

Hesitantly, I walked beneath a covered bridge, unsure of what waited on the other side. What I discovered was breathtaking: a winding trail lined with lush green forest, birdsong echoing through the trees, sunlight filtering through the canopy above. For four miles, the beauty and stillness became an antidote for my weary soul.

This has been a difficult week.

Just a few days ago, two teenage gunmen attacked the Islamic Center of San Diego, the largest mosque in San Diego County, killing three people before dying by apparent suicide. No house of worship should ever become a place of terror. Every human being deserves the right to gather in prayer, safety, and peace. As Jews, we know the pain of seeing sacred spaces violated by hatred and violence. We stand in solidarity with the Muslim community and with all communities targeted because of who they are and how they pray.

Threats to sacred dignity, however, do not only come from those who are outside of our communities. Sometimes they emerge from within, through exclusion, intolerance, and the denial of belonging. Even among our own people, we continue to witness painful struggles over who belongs, whose voice matters, and who has the right to claim Torah as their own.

As Orly Erez-Likhovski, Executive Director of the Israel Religious Action Center of the Israel Reform Movement, recently wrote:

“The fact that the only public place in the Western world where women are forbidden from reading Torah is at the Kotel [the Western Wall}, in the capital of the Jewish state [Jerusalem, Israel], is simply outrageous. Once again, Women of the Wall succeeded in smuggling in a Torah scroll and reading from it in the women’s section, since they are not allowed to read from the 100 Torah scrolls reserved for use in the men’s section for any group of men to use, or to bring in an outside Torah scroll. As I write these words, I still cannot believe that this is what is required to exercise freedom of religion at the Kotel — to smuggle in what belongs to us by right, given to us at Sinai as our sacred inheritance.”

She continues:

“And as if the harassment of all who do not conform to the Rabbinate’s dictates were not enough, this week the Knesset’s Constitution, Law and Justice Committee will discuss a bill imposing up to seven years in prison for egalitarian prayer at the Kotel. That’s right. This extremist government is not content merely to normalize violence against women reading Torah or liberal Jews in egalitarian prayer; it now seeks to criminalize our worship itself.”

She reminds us of the words written twenty-three years ago by the Israeli Supreme Court in the Women of the Wall case:

“The Kotel was given to the entire Jewish people, not merely to one part of the people. And the entire Jewish people — not merely one part — acquired rights in the Kotel.”

Sinai, the mountain on which we received the Torah, belongs to all of us. The moment revelation becomes the possession of only a select few, we betray the very covenant we celebrate on Shavuot, which begins this evening.

Perhaps this is why Shavuot feels especially urgent this year.

The festival of Shavuot is our time to celebrate the receiving of Torah at Mount Sinai. One of the holiday’s names is Z’man Matan Torateinu, the Festival of the Giving of Our Torah. On Shavuot, we metaphorically stand once again at the foot of Sinai, ready to receive Torah anew. We imagine ourselves alongside our ancestors, newly freed from the trauma of slavery, trembling with awe and anticipation as they gathered at the mountain.

In that sacred moment, they received not merely a set of laws, but a spiritual blueprint for living: the Aseret HaDibrot, the Ten Commandments.

These teachings are more than directives about what to do or avoid. They are acts of redemption. They affirm human dignity and divine justice, calling us to create a society rooted in responsibility, compassion, and holiness. For the newly formed Israelite people, this was revolutionary. In Egypt, justice depended on the whims of Pharaoh. Joseph prospered under one ruler, while generations later a new Pharaoh arose who governed through fear and cruelty. Revelation at Sinai offered an entirely different vision: a covenant grounded not in power, fear, or domination, but in sacred accountability.

How do we hold both Sinai and angst in our hearts at once?

Shavuot reminds us that even in moments of grief, anxiety, and uncertainty, we are not powerless. Torah calls us to act: to pursue justice, to amplify voices too often ignored, and to pray not only with our lips, but with our hands, hearts, and feet. The Ten Commandments are not relics of an ancient past. They are an enduring call to continue the work of liberation for all who remain bound by physical, emotional, or spiritual oppression.

Even amid the brokenness of our world, Shavuot remains a festival of joy and hope. Traditionally, we decorate our sanctuaries with flowers and greenery, symbols of life and renewal. While we may not physically decorate our sanctuary, we need only step outside to witness creation in full bloom: roses, hydrangeas, trees swaying in the late spring breeze, and gardens bursting with color and life, like I witness on my morning walks. Renewal surrounds us. Shavuot also invites us to partake in sweet dairy foods, symbols of Torah’s sweetness and nourishment for the soul.

The holiday traditionally includes an all-night study session called Tikkun Leil Shavuot, a night devoted to learning, reflection, and spiritual renewal. There are opportunities for learners of every age and stage to engage with Torah through hands-on experiences, multi-generational learning, in-person gatherings, and online offerings. Truly, there is something for everyone.

Let us bring our whole selves to Sinai this year: our questions, our fears, our hopes, and our longings. Let us recommit ourselves to Torah as a living guide that challenges us to repair our world with courage and compassion.

Perhaps I am idealistic, but I still believe in the possibility of redemption. Shavuot reminds us that even when the world feels fractured and uncertain, we are still capable of choosing another path: one rooted in justice, compassion, and peace.

May this Shavuot renew our spirits, strengthen our resolve, and help us find the courage to walk forward, even when the path ahead feels uncertain. May every sacred space remain a sanctuary, every person be treated with dignity, and every soul find its way to Sinai embraced in peace.

Chag Shavuot Sameach and Shabbat Shalom.

In the Wilderness Between Two Jerusalems

As we begin the Book of Numbers, (“in the wilderness”) and mark Yom Yerushalayim, two disturbing reports force us to confront the painful distance between truth, moral clarity, and the world we inhabit today.

This week we begin reading the fourth book of the Torah, B’midbar, the Book of Numbers. Its Hebrew name, B’midbar, means “in the wilderness.”

The wilderness in Torah is never simply a geographic place. It is a spiritual landscape. A place of uncertainty and vulnerability. A place where identity is forged and tested. In the wilderness, the Israelites begin the long transformation from a ragtag group of liberated slaves into Am Yisrael, the People of Israel, a covenantal people bound not only to God and to one another, and also to moral responsibility.

This week, as we begin B’midbar, we also mark Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day), commemorating the reunification of Jerusalem after the Six Day War in 1967. Jerusalem has always represented more than land or sovereignty in Jewish consciousness. Jerusalem symbolizes homecoming, memory, longing, and the fragile hope that human beings can build a society rooted in justice and holiness.

Jewish tradition speaks of two Jerusalems: Yerushalayim shel la’matah, the earthly Jerusalem shaped by politics, power, conflict, and human imperfection; and Yerushalayim shel la’malah, the heavenly Jerusalem, the vision of what we might yet become when we live according to our highest moral and spiritual aspirations.

That hope feels extremely fragile right now. We are living through a moment in which truth itself often feels contested, fractured, and weaponized. A moment in which the distance between the Jerusalem below and the Jerusalem above can feel painfully wide.

This week, two deeply disturbing reports were published one day apart.

Their juxtaposition laid bare the painful distance between Yerushalayim shel la’malah, the Jerusalem of justice, truth, and human dignity to which we aspire, and Yerushalayim shel la’matah, the fractured world of politics, trauma, outrage, and moral confusion in which we actually live.

First came Nicholas Kristof’s New York Times opinion piece highlighting allegations of sexual abuse against Palestinian prisoners by Israelis. Allegations of abuse anywhere must always be taken seriously. Jewish tradition is unequivocal about the dignity of every human being, created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. No society, including Israel, is beyond moral scrutiny or accountability.

At the same time, many Jews experienced the article as deeply troubling in both timing and framing. Some of the claims presented were extraordinarily sensational and appeared without the kind of corroboration, evidentiary transparency, and methodological rigor that accusations of this magnitude demand. Kristof’s piece relied heavily upon reporting from the Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor, an organization whose work on Israel has itself been the subject of significant criticism and dispute.

One day later, the Civil Commission on October 7 Crimes by Hamas Against Women and Children released its 300-page report, Silenced No More – Sexual Terror Unveiled: The Untold Atrocities of October 7 and Against Hostages in Captivity. (Warning: This report contains graphic and deeply painful descriptions). The contrast in methodology and documentation could not have been more striking.

The Commission’s investigation was conducted over two years and drew upon what it describes as a “uniquely constructed and independently secured war crimes archive.” The report documents more than 10,000 photographs and video segments, over 1,800 hours of visual evidence, and more than 430 testimonies and interviews with survivors, witnesses, released hostages, experts, and family members. Materials were systematically logged, cross-referenced, geolocated, and reviewed using internationally recognized trauma-informed investigative standards.

What emerges from the report is not a collection of isolated allegations, but a documented pattern of systematic sexual violence perpetrated during the October 7 attacks and throughout captivity afterward. Its contents are extraordinarily painful to read. They are also essential to confront and bear witness to.

For many Jews, the juxtaposition of these two publications felt disorienting. Not because Jews oppose accountability or fear scrutiny, but because moral seriousness requires distinctions. Journalism, human rights reporting, and public moral discourse all depend upon careful evidence, intellectual honesty, and methodological integrity. When those distinctions collapse, the wilderness deepens.

This leaves many Jews inhabiting a painful wilderness.

How do we hold onto moral seriousness while living in a world saturated with outrage, accusation, distortion, and trauma? How do we remain capable of self-reflection without accepting narratives that erase context, flatten complexity, or portray Israel as uniquely monstrous? How do we defend our people without allowing defensiveness to harden into indifference toward the suffering of others?

The wilderness blurs boundaries. Fear hardens us. Pain narrows our capacity to discern clearly. Torah’s great challenge is not simply how to survive the wilderness, but how to remain human within it.

Holding these tensions simultaneously is spiritually exhausting. It is also part of the moral calling of Jewish life.

B’midbar reminds us that the wilderness is not the end of the story. The wilderness is the place where a people learns who it wishes to become.

Perhaps that is the enduring challenge of Jerusalem itself. To live in the uneasy space between Yerushalayim shel la’matah and Yerushalayim shel la’malah. Between the earthly Jerusalem shaped by politics, fear, grief, power, and human frailty, and the heavenly Jerusalem that calls us toward truth, justice, compassion, and holiness.

One Jerusalem reflects the world as it is. The other insists the we still have the ability to create the world as it ought to be.

Jewish history has always unfolded in the tension between those two Jerusalems. So too does Jewish moral life.

May we never lose the courage to confront painful truths honestly. May we never allow outrage or despair to strip us of our humanity. And may we continue striving, even in the wilderness, to narrow the distance between the Jerusalem below and the Jerusalem above.

May this Shabbat bring wisdom, renewal, courage, and peace.

Shabbat Shalom!

Stones With a Human Heart

Even in times of uncertainty, the human heart can remain open to hope and the promise of a better tomorrow.

This past week, the lyrics of the classic Israeli song “HaKotel” (“The Western Wall,” written by Yossi Gamzu and Dubi Zeltzer and made popular by singer Ofra Haza) have echoed in my mind: “Yesh anashim im lev shel even, yesh avanim im lev adam, There are people with hearts of stone, and there are stones with a human heart.”

These words have lingered with me as we move through days that feel both fragile and profound. The ceasefires between Israel and Iran, and between Israel and Hezbollah in Lebanon, remain deeply fragile. Each report of a rocket or missile reminds us how quickly calm can give way to escalation, how urgently peace must be protected and sustained.

The reverberations are not distant. They reach us here in North America, shaping how we gather, how we pray, how we care for one another. Just days ago, Reform Congregation Beth Israel in Houston, Texas, and its school community faced threats that forced early closure. Fear entered a sacred space, a place meant for learning, for prayer, for belonging. Yet what followed was not silence or withdrawal. It was community. It was vigilance joined with resilience. It was a reminder that even when confronted with acts that attempt to harden hearts, we are called to respond differently. We are called to be among those who refuse hearts of stone, choosing instead to live with hearts open to life, connection, and responsibility for one another.

And this week as well, we marked Yom HaZikaron, Israel Memorial Day, for fallen soldiers and victims of terror in Israel and Yom Ha’atzma’ut, Israel Independence Day. These sacred days ask something powerful of us. We move from remembrance to celebration, from grief to gratitude, from honoring loss to affirming life. The transition is not simple. It is not meant to be. It reflects the fullness of our story as a people.

“Am Yisrael Chai – The Jewish People Lives!” is not only a declaration of survival. It is a commitment to purpose. It reminds us that even in moments of tension or uncertainty, our task is to hold fast to what binds us together: memory, responsibility, and hope.

In these days, I return to a moment of learning that has stayed with me. Years ago, I stood on Mount Herzl, Israel’s national cemetery, a place that carries the weight and the wonder of the Jewish story. Guided by Professor David Mendelsson, we were invited to see the site not only as a place of burial, but as a living testament to the values of a people still becoming.

We stood at the resting places of Theodor Herzl, Yitzhak Rabin, Shimon Peres, and Hannah Senesh, alongside countless young soldiers whose lives were cut short in defense of the State of Israel. Each name, each stone, tells a story of courage, sacrifice, and enduring vision.

As we walked, we saw how the diversity of the Jewish people is etched into that sacred ground. Communities from Morocco, the former Soviet Union, Ethiopia, and beyond have all shaped the unfolding narrative of Israel. Their voices, traditions, and dreams are woven into the fabric of the nation.

While we stood there, the rain began to fall. It came softly at first, then steadily, until we were soaked through. It felt as though the heavens themselves were joining in remembrance. We paused together and recited memorial prayers and Kaddish:

“Remember the fallen of the State of Israel, our brothers and sisters, the victims of terror. May the darkness of their loss not obscure the light of peace. …Yitbarach v’yistabach v’yitpa’er…”

In that moment, physical discomfort faded into the background. What remained was clarity. Memory is not passive. “Never again” is not only a statement of the past; it is a call that shapes how we live now.

To pray for peace is to commit ourselves to its possibility. To speak of hope is to act in ways that make hope real. To honor those who have fallen is to build a future worthy of their sacrifice.

The stones of Mount Herzl speak. They speak of lives lived with purpose. They speak of a people bound together not only by history, but by shared responsibility. They remind us that even in times of uncertainty, the human heart can remain open, resilient, and directed toward goodness.

The vision of Israel, and of Jerusalem as its spiritual heart, was expressed long ago in the words of the Psalmist:

“Pray for the well-being of Jerusalem;
May those who love you be at peace.
May there be well-being within your walls,
Peace within your citadels.
For the sake of my kin and friends, I pray for your well-being;
For the sake of the house of Adonai our God, I seek your good.”
(Psalm 122:6–9)

Jerusalem is more than a place. It is a vision of wholeness, a call to pursue peace with courage and with faith.

May we have the strength to listen to the stones. May we allow their stories to guide us toward compassion, toward unity, toward a future shaped by dignity and hope. May our hearts remain open as we continue the sacred work of building a world worthy of those we remember and those who will come after us.

Shabbat Shalom!

Barriers, Borders, Boundaries, and Walls

Israel reflections, continued.

Israel is a Democratic Jewish state. It is a geographically tiny place, situated in an “undesirable” neighborhood, surrounded by those who wish to see her eradicated.

Israel has embraced within its borders, opened its arms and heart to so many who have had no other place to turn, refugees of all types: the earliest settlers from the late 1800’s, the second wave of settlers from WWII, Yemenite Jews, Moroccan Jews, Russian Jews, Ethiopian Jews, Cambodian “boat people,” Vietnamese refugees, those from Darfur and the southern Sudan who fled from violent African regimes..and so many others. Borders and boundaries often meant nothing.

And now, Israel is once again trying to figure out how to offer safety and security to 60,000 Syrian refugees who are the victim of the civil war in Syria – a place that is now being referred to as “the country that used to be Syria.” Syria, a country that has no relations with Israel. And Israel is trying to find a way to be able to offer safe haven and refuge, despite borders and boundaries. They will do so in a way that addresses all security issues and in a way that addresses the humanitarian issues at stake.

To be a Jew is to recognize that we are all created “B’tzelem Elohim – in the image of God” and thus, the Democratic Jewish state often goes out of its way to treat others, no matter their nationality, background or religion with a sense of that humanity, justice, and fairness.

We saw this same attitude at our visit to Hadassah hospital Ein Kerem. Hadassah treats all patients equally, and often treats patients from countries who do not have diplomatic relationships with Israel. But they find a way to come to Hadassah because Hadassah is known for its exemplary medical care, its cutting-edge and innovative technology and the fact that it’s medical team see no boundaries vis-a-vis race, ethnicity, citizenship or religion. Everyone is treated as if they are created b’tzelem Elohim – in the image of God.

And yet, despite this, people are people. And as the old joke goes, if two Jews were stranded on a desert Island, they would build three synagogues: one for each of them, and one that neither would attend. Israel is no different.

Everywhere we went, we were witness to emotional, physical and other types of barriers, boundaries, borders and walls that cause tension and stress among different groups of Jews, that exacerbate relationships between Jewish Israelis and Arab Israelis, and that fans the flame of anger that prevent dialogue toward peace between Israel and the Palestinians.

It is in these areas that we see the concept of “b’tzelem Elohim – in the image of God” falling to the wayside. Here, we witness the concept of fundamentalism: the notion of “only my way is correct, and your way is wrong, and therefore, you are evil.” No matter if the issue involves Jew vs Jew, or Jew vs Arab, when we treat someone like they are “other,” we forget that they too, are human.

In Israel, there is no such thing as religious pluralism. The Orthodox control all matters of personal status (marriage, divorce, conversion, burial). Orthodox synagogues are built by the government and Orthodox rabbis’ salaries are paid for by the government. Not so for any other Jewish denomination. Reform, Conservative and Reconstructionist Jews need to fight for their land, fight to have their rabbis’ rights recognized, fight for everything they receive.

We spent time with three different Reform congregations (Congregation Yozma in Modi’in, Yedid Nefesh Congregation in Carmiel and Kol Haneshama Congregation in Jerusalem) praying together, eating together, studying together. We prayed at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion in Jerusalem and studied with Rabbi Michael Marmur, the Provost of HUC, and we spent time at the Supreme Court in Jerusalem, learning about the Israel Reform Movement’s Israel Religious Action Center and some of the causes they address. We heard about the boundaries, borders and walls that the Reform Movement in Israel has to face daily.

Yet, they are constantly making progress and gaining strides. The Reform Movement has ordained over 100+ Israeli-born rabbis in its Israel rabbinical program. They celebrate the B’nai Mitzvah of over 800 students every year and hundreds of weddings. 1000’s of people attend Reform congregations for study and prayer during holiday times. The Legal Aid Center for New Immigrants has assisted hundreds of new immigrants gratis with legal aid. And Anat Hoffman, the director of the Israel Religious Action Center, is the leading voice of “Women of the Wall” pressing for egalitarian participation for all at one of Jerusalem’s holiest spots. Yes – there is more than one way to be “religious” – and the Israeli Reform Movement is living proof that liberal Judaism is a viable option.

While some of our group went to Masada and the Dead Sea, some of us visited Hebron, in the West Bank with the NGO “Breaking the Silence.”

Breaking the Silence was founded in 2004 by a group of former ID veterans, many of them coming from religious backgrounds. They felt that the Torah and Jewish values were diametrically opposed to what was taking place in Hebron. They felt the lack of people being treated “b’tzelem Elohim” called for action.

Hebron is the only Palestinian city in the West Bank with a Jewish settlement in its center. And this settlement happens to be comprised of ideological settlers who believe that all of the West Bank should be “Arab-free.” These settlers will forcibly remove Arabs from their places of business and homes and take illegal possession of them. They defy the laws of the army and the police. They all carry weapons.

For years, the army has implemented a policy of separation and discrimination between the Israeli settlers and the Palestinian majority. The army is charged with protecting the settlers (and at times, the Palestinians who are often attacked by the settlers). The army severely restricts the movement of tens of thousands of Palestinian residents, which has led to the destruction of the main commerce area and to the mass abandonment of the area by the residents who could afford to flee. Hundreds of shops have closed, thousands of people have been left without a livelihood and many people have been forced to leave their homes. The city center has become a ghost town, where only Jews are allowed to move about freely (Palestinians are not allowed to drive on the streets, or be on the streets at certain times). Hunger and poverty are rampant. The UN is providing children with soup and buckets for soup at lunch-time, often the only meal that is available that day.

The fanatic Baruch Goldstein, who massacred Muslims during Ramadan many years ago while they were praying in the mosque at the Cave of Machpelah, was part of this group of settlers.

They promote an ideology of hatred based on a fundamental belief that walls, barriers and boundaries that push out and separate will be beneficial to them. They teach that the “other” is not human and is not worthy of being treated as such.

At the same time, there exist many good Israelis who are trying to teach about what is happening in Hebron and change the conversation. The goal is to change the policies of what happens in Hebron, and hopefully one day to end the occupation. People cannot live autonomously if they are living under occupation.

We also spent one afternoon just north of the West Bank, in Israel, with Sikkuy: For Civic Equality for Arab Israelis. Sikkuy has two main goals: The first goal is how to close the economic gaps that exist in the Arab Israeli neighborhoods. The Arab Israeli neighborhoods receive much less government support than the Jewish Israeli neighborhoods. This affects the public education system, water access, garbage pickup, electricity and all public works, roadways, public transportation, etc. The second goal is how to build a shared society. Arab Israelis and Jewish Israelis have very little contact with each other, very little opportunity for dialogue and discussion.

There are 1.4 million Arab citizens in Israel (approximately 17% of Israeli citizens are Arab; less than 200,00 are Christians).

Due to the large economic gaps in the system, the Arab Israeli population is extremely disadvantaged. The only engine of growth over the next 20 years for the economy is the integration of the Arab Israeli citizens and the Haredim into society. The Haredim are ambivalent. The Arabs do want to participate but there are barriers.

Often, the Arabs are seen as a security threat, they often have a difficult time finding jobs – even with advanced university degrees.

We spent time with Asala Mahajna and her father, Kasam, originally from the largest Israeli Arab town of Um El Fahm. We heard and witnessed how the town’s growth was impeded by some of the economic issues. We heard about Asala’s hopes and dreams and concerns for the future.

We learned how Sikkuy, with it’s Jewish Israeli and Arab Israeli co-directors work together with other organizations to break down barriers, tear down walls and build bridges that will lead to new avenues of openness and better living. Perhaps, one of the most exciting ventures we learned about was a set of seven schools called: “Hand in Hand.” Founded by Shuli Dichter (former Director of Sikkuy). Shuli is breaking down barriers and walls with these schools that provide education for both Arab Israeli and Jewish Israeli school children. They bring together the parents for discussion and dialogue. “The old shall dream dreams, but the youth shall have visions.”

We spent time up on the Golan Heights at the Syrian border, getting a security briefing on what was happening with the “country formerly known as Syria” from (Retired) Col. Kobi Marom.

And we had a fascinating tour and lecture of the security wall around the West Bank with Prof. Paul Liptz.

We walked around the walls of the Old City, the walls that separated the Old City from the New, the walls that separated the Jewish Quarter from the Christian Quarter, from the Armenian Quarter from the Muslim Quarter.

We even saw a sign on a wall that said: “Americans go home. You’re not welcome here.”

Yes, Israel is a complex place.

We pray that one day, there will be no need for the walls, the barriers will come down and all people will remember to treat each other “b’tzelem Elohim” – in the Image of God.

Becoming a Family of Travelers – Guest post by Carole-Ann Gordon

Our trip began with expectations of sharing our lives as a community as we tour Israel for 10 days together.

After traveling from JFK to Tel Aviv in two groups, we joyfully met up at Abdu Hadayag (a fish restaurant in Old Yoffo) for a delicious dinner that became a ‘family reunion.’ Over a multi-course feast, we each regaled the others with our flight adventures.

Being all together for the first time generated the warmth of a traveling family, not a tour group.

Sharon greeted us with joy and arranged a perfect get-together: we ate, laughed, met Ofer (our tour guide) and enjoyed ourselves.
We ended our first outing with sighs of contentment, joy and excitement for the days to follow.
First grounding feeling about being a Jew in Israel: a sweet breath of wholeness upon seeing a mezuzah on the doorpost of each hotel room.
Sharon’s comment: Bruchim Ha’ba’im! Welcome home!

Our Bags Are Packed – Our Chanukah Journey to Israel Begins! (Follow our Journey…)

It began more than a year ago. Congregants inquired “are we going to have a synagogue trip to Israel?”

We met and discussed, planned and studied, tried to determine the best program to meet the needs for those who wished to travel to our Jewish homeland.

It all comes together tonight as we leave to visit Israel for Chanukah. We are an intergenerational group of 27 participants, ranging in age from 13 to over 80. Some have never travelled to Israel, some have been many times.

We’ll celebrate two B’nai Mitzvah while we’re there: our 13-year will chant Torah at the egalitarian southern side of the Western Wall. This beautiful young man is sharing his Israel Bar Mitzvah experience with one of our 30-year olds: she, too, will celebrate becoming Bat Mitzvah at this time, as she never experienced Bat Mitzvah when she was growing up.

We’ll hike, explore, eat, laugh, bond as a group, learn, eat, listen, learn, explore more, taste chocolate and wine, spend time with the Israeli Reform Movement and eat some more. We’ll marvel at the wonder of modern Israel and all that has been accomplished in such a short time. We’ll learn about the struggles and challenges that exist in the Middle East. We’ll keep open minds and open hearts.

This is not merely a “trip,” or a “vacation,” it is a journey. We are going to connect spiritually, emotionally and physically with the land of our ancestors. We will reflect on our own Jewish identities and what our connection to Israel means to each of us.

And we’ll share our reflections and photos each day – in this space – with you.

I will be turning over my blog to a different person each day to share something from the previous day (a group “journal” of sorts).

So join us on our journey, travel with us as you follow us on this space (beginning around December 22nd).

A Traveler’s Prayer for Our Special Journey*

Let us remember that we travel not for the sake of travel alone, but to have our perspectives on the world transformed.

Let us take responsibility for our actions and words as we observe, learn, listen, struggle, grow and reflect,

Let us arrive safely at our destination – knowing that this is no ordinary trip, but a journey of the heart, mind, soul and spirit. A unique journey to “Eretz Yisrael, The Land of Israel.”

Let us feel the deep and abiding connection with our Jewish roots, that will inspire us to develop a long and lasting bond with the land and people of Israel.

May the sparks of the Chanukah candles ignite a spark of passion within us, which we will bring back home to share with others, so they too, may be strengthened by our learning and understanding.

May we be blessed in our going and blessed in our returning -in safety, peace and wholeness.

*(Prayer based on a similar prayer from AJWS)

Shimon Peres – Pursuer of Peace

We think about Shimon Peres as he recovers from his stroke. He is a model of being true to one’s convictions: “In spite of our differences, we can build peace, not just negotiate peace.”

Jewish tradition is full of contradictions.

On the one hand, we are instructed to “be like the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace.” (Pirke Avot – Ethics of the Fathers – 1:12).

Yet, at the same time, we see in this week’s Torah portion, Ki Teitzei (literally, “When you go out”) a call to violence and war. “When you go out against your enemies, and the Eternal your God delivers them into your power and you take some of them captive.” (Deuteronomy 21:10).

How can we, as a people, be both “seekers of peace” and called to “violence and war” simultaneously?

Our Jewish tradition understands that one must always strive for peace, one must always actively pursue peace, but at the same time, unfortunately, bloodshed and war are a human condition which must be mitigated against. Evil must be eradicated, and at times, war cannot be avoided.

In recent Jewish and Israeli history, one person who seems to understand this dichotomy best is Shimon Peres, life-long Israeli statesman and “pursuer of peace.” I think of Shimon Peres now, not just because of the message of this weeks Torah portion, but because our thoughts are with him and his family after he suffered from a major stroke a few days ago.

He was born in Belarus in 1923 and immigrated to Israel at the age of 11. Peres was raised within the Labor-Zionist youth movement, embodying the deep belief that a Jewish State was key for the existence of the Jewish people.

And so, following Israel’s Independence in 1948, Peres was willing to fight for its very existence. First he became head of the Israeli Naval services and when he was 29 years old, he became the Director General of the Ministry of Defense. For Peres, war was a necessary evil. All of his family members who remained in Europe perished in the Holocaust.

Peres was so committed to the State of Israel that his entire professional life was one of service: he was first elected to the Knesset, the Israeli parliament in 1959 and served continuously until 2007 (except for a very short break at one point). He served as Prime Minister of Israel twice, Interim Prime Minister and was elected as President of Israel in 2007, eventually retiring in 2014 – at the age of 91.

While Peres was willing to fight for Israel’s safety, security and right to exist, he also felt the moral imperative to actively pursue peace to the fullest extent possible.

He taught us by his word and deeds what it means to reach out to one’s enemies and make them your friends: he initiated dialogue and contact with Jordan’s King Hussein long before Israel and Jordan ever had diplomatic relations; he knew that it was crucial to work towards a peaceful relationship with the Palestinians – even when times seemed difficult.

Thus, he was the recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1994 with Yitzchak Rabin and Yasser Arafat for the work they did together, even though tensions still exist. His work for peace earned him many international awards and prizes.

I met President Peres a few times, during times of quiet and calm in Israel, during the days of strife and terror attacks. What impressed me most, was that this former military hero, never gave up hope that peace was possible. That two people’s living on one land in harmony could be a reality.

To that end, in 1996, he created the Peres Center of Peace. It is one of Israel’s leading organizations to promote peace building between Israel and its neighbors as well as between Jewish and Arab citizens of Israel. The Peres Center of Peace focuses on three core areas:

Medicine and Healthcare
Peace Education (through sports, the arts and technology)
Business and the Environment.

Peres said: “In spite of our differences, we can build peace, not just negotiate peace. We can create the proper environment , and not just become victims of the existing environment.”

You can read more about the good and important work they do here: The Peres Center for Peace.

Shimon Peres is a man who lived his life true to his convictions: willing to fight and engage in warfare when absolutely necessary, and even more willing to engage in the difficult pursuit of making peace, because this is more important than anything else.

We keep him and his family in our thoughts as he continues on his journey for healing and wholeness. His courage, conviction, strength and fortitude are models for us all.

Israel Day Parade (June 2016)

Every year, Jews of all denominations and political backgrounds gather together to express our support for Israel by marching in NYC at our Israel Day Parade. We stand stronger together!

Temple Isaiah joined with hundreds of other congregations and Jewish organizations to express our support for the State of Israel in New York City with the Israel Day Parade on June 5, 2016. Even though the weather was wet and rainy, it didn’t dampen our spirits or pride!

Words Matter. Actions Matter. Speak Out Against BDS.

BDS has become a ruse for anti-Semitism in disguise. It has been used to vilify Jews, delegitimize the State of Israel and as an attempt to undermine all efforts for peace between the Israelis and Palestinians.

I was living in Toronto when the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions Movement (BDS) slowly began to percolate on university campuses around the globe. The Canadian Jewish community quickly coalesced to formulate a response to address this issue. Never the less, the BDS Movement continued to grow.

Briefly, the BDS campaign was organized in July of 2005 by a group of over 150+ Palestinian NGO’s in support of the Palestinian cause for boycott, divestment and international sanctions against Israel.

In short time, it has become a ruse for anti-Semitism in disguise. It has been used to vilify Jews, delegitimize the State of Israel and as an attempt to undermine all efforts for peace between the Israelis and Palestinians.

Many of those who support BDS, including thousands of university students, lack an understanding of what “BDS” really stands for. They also lack an understanding of the myriad of complex issues which make up the “wild Middle East” – in which the Israelis and Palestinians are embroiled, but are not the sole players.

And now, it appears that the voices of BDS are becoming even louder. The rhetoric, vitriol, propaganda and lies these voices spew are cause for great concern. They threaten the emotional and physical well-being of our young people on campus. They threaten our emotional and physical well-being, and that of the entire Jewish people. They threaten the emotional and physical well-being of our beloved State of Israel.

Just this past week, the students at McGill University in Montreal, Quebec, voted to support the BDS Movement on Campus. McGill has an overwhelming large number of Jewish students enrolled – so this was an astonishing turn of events. It was seen as an act of betrayal, an act of anti-Semitism, an act of anti-Zionism.

This is just one example of what is happening in so many places all over the world. We need to speak up. We need to educate others about the issues. It doesn’t matter if one is politically conservative or liberal, there is no place for BDS in our world view.

If Israel is at risk, it affects all of the world: Israel protects that region of the world from nuclear disaster, Israel is a key provider of hi-tech and medical innovations, Israel provides expertise in the areas of agricultural and environmental development and so much more.

What You Can Do:

Write to your Senators and Representatives and urge them to speak out against the BDS Movement. (The Canadian Government just issued a strong statement against BDS this past week. The city of Paris did as well. The US government should do the same. Click here to find your Senators and Representatives).
Educate yourself about the issues. Read widely. I highly recommend Ari Shavit’s book “My Promised Land”, and Yossi Klein Halevi’s book “Like Dreamers.” They both also write and blog frequently in the media, so you can follow them online. There are many other great resources: Times of Israel, Ha’aretz, Jerusalem Report. Listen to a plurality of voices. The Reform Rabbis are currently having their annual conference in Israel. They’re meeting with the government, religious leaders and many other people of influence. You can follow them online by searching for “CCAR Convention 2016 in Israel.” Please read their recent statement against BDS by the Central Conference of American Rabbis which they just issued earlier this week.
If you have children on Campus, encourage them to connect with other Jews on campus via Hillel, or Jews for Judaism. Jews for Judaism is an organization that is non-denominational and has as its mission “to strengthen and preserve the Jewish identity through education and counseling” of Jewish young people. Originally, Jews for Judaism was meant to help give young people the tools and education to counteract cults and missionaries. However, these same tools can be extremely helpful in counteracting those in the BDS Movement as well.
Support Israel! Buy Israeli products: drink Israeli wine on Shabbat, look for Israeli food in the kosher aisle in the grocery store, shop online specifically for products made and manufactured in Israel.
Visit Israel. Nothing says “we love Israel – ahavat Zion” – more than going to visit. Developing a personal relationship with the land and people of Israel is much deeper than tzedakah. We are offering the gifts of our hearts, minds and souls.

I will be leading a trip to Israel with my Congregation, Temple Isaiah, this coming December 2016. You can find the information about the trip by clicking on the Facebook link of the blog and scrolling down. (Or you can send me a private message to inquire about more information by inputting your info at the end of this blog). Our itinerary is meant to appeal to both those who have never been to Israel before AND to those who have been many times. We’ll be meeting with key leaders and teachers who will help us to understand the complexities of life in Israel and learn about the nuances of the situation.

It is not enough to shake our heads, wring our hands and say, “this BDS Movement is terrible.” We can take action. We can do something. Please join me!

May the Force Be With You: A Jewish View

This is a very special Shabbat – ‘Shabbat Star Wars.’ I’m sure that everyone is aware that the new Star Wars movie opened last night. So I thought that this evening would be a good time to spend a few moments sharing some thoughts on the many things the movies can teach us and the themes they share with our ancient Jewish texts.

This sermon — which takes place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away — can be found here. (And you can find all my sermons by clicking “On the Bima” in the menu.)