From Rabbi Art

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Rabbi Art: Judaism and Science

Judaism and Science: A Modern Faith Partners not Rivals Rosh Hashanah 5769 Rabbi Art Donsky

On November 1, 1755, it was All Saints’ Day in Lisbon, Portugal – then one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.  That day, as the churches were packed with devout worshipers at mass, a devastating earthquake struck the city. A modern writer describes it like this: “Just before ten in the morning, the city was hit by a sudden sideways lurch now estimated in magnitude 9.0 and shaken furiously for seven full minutes.
Bill Bryson, author of , “A Short History of Nearly Everything,” presents a primary source, “The convulsive force was so great that the water rushed out of the city’s harbor and returned in a wave fifty feet high, adding to the destruction. When at last the motion ceased, survivors waited just three minutes of calm before a second shock came, only slightly less severe than the first. A third and final shock followed two hours later. At the end of it all, sixty thousand people were dead, and virtually every building for miles reduced to rubble”. 
The Lisbon earthquake, followed by five days of horrific fires, was the most catastrophic natural disaster of the 18th century – it has been called the first disaster of the modern age. Scenes of mass carnage set off seismic shifts in the mind and heart, as well. Ideals were shattered along with the great cathedrals. When churches collapse and bury thousands of pious people at prayer, it is hard to cling to the notion of a beneficent God who governs the universe with justice.
But the day after the earthquake some priests had already mounted their pulpits to explain that the disaster was God’s dire punishment of the people of Portugal for their many sins, including their love for music, dancing, theater and bull fights.
Human beings, then as now, are compelled to make sense of the universe. We look for patterns, we search for meaning, and we dread the very idea of randomness. A God who created the universe with a grand design, a Supreme Being who cares about each one of us, a Being who rewards and punishes us in accordance with our deeds – such a God makes the world intelligible.
The Lisbon earthquake, with all its horrors, was a turning point for the philosophers of the Enlightenment. It made them ask deep questions about the idea of religious faith.
Science and reason have made war on religion since the time of Copernicus, gathering force in every generation, slashing away at the foundations of faith and undermining its claims on the human mind. Recently, a spate of books has appeared with the view that science’s victory over religion as cause for celebration.
Many of today’s attacks on religious faith are waged with a sense of malicious contempt. Read Christopher Hitchens’ “God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything”—or Richard Dawkins’ “The God Delusion.” argue, with varying degrees of eloquence, that religion, all religion, preaches lies and stupidities and stands in the way of human progress; that those who practice religion are at best fools and at worst dangerous fanatics who threaten the survival of the human race. Dawkins, an important evolutionary biologist, has curiously suggested that we refer to atheists as “brights,” which leaves believers, I guess, as “dulls”.
Can religion and science coexist today in the mind of a modern Jew? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself intensely for a long time. I am fascinated by science; I have built my life on Judaism and the Jewish People; I have profound respect for the intellect; I do not want to be a fool or a dull. I want to know what I can honestly believe. This is an ultimate issue for me – I know that it is for you, as well.
Our questions matter especially tonight, as we enter these holy days: this intense season of prayer and repentance before the One whom we Jews call the Judge of all the earth. What, exactly, are we doing here? Why are we doing it? Is this coming together in prayer no more than an antiquated ritual, a primitive act of groveling to an imaginary king in the sky? Is it, as Freud might argue, a collective exercise in fantasy, an expression of our longing for a perfect father?
Do we mean the words we read aloud from the prayer book? Can we believe, really believe, in the religious value of what we are doing here tonight? Or should we chalk it up to a purely humanistic experience: a chance to sit quietly and think about whatever we like, a chance to get together with friends and enjoy beautiful music and a sense of community?
I want to say that I can endorse some of what Christopher Hitchens and Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins have to say. Some religious teachings are foolish or destructive, or both. Some religious people, threatened by the teachings of science, close their eyes to facts and try to impose their ideologies on others by force. Some religious practitioners commit atrocious acts; some are inspired to do so by their religion. Religious wars have killed millions and they continue to ravage our world.
Does religion, then, do more evil than good?  I see no evidence whatever that religion creates the human propensity for aggression or evil, though certainly, religion is used by unscrupulous leaders to incite bigotry and hate. So also are all human institutions – governments, medicine, science, the education system, the legal system – subject to manipulation in destructive ways. All are created and administered by people, and people are flawed. Religion claims, in fact, that it is because people are fallible and flawed that we need the discipline of faith and tradition in the first place.
If there were no religions around, I have no doubt that people would come up with other ways to hurt and oppress one another. That’s certainly been the case in countries where religion has been rigidly suppressed. Communist China and Stalinist Russia were not known for benevolent treatment of their citizens. The worst genocides of the 20th century took place under secular, atheist regimes.
It’s true that religious people cooperated with such genocides. Devout Christians served in the Gestapo and supported Fascism; religious leaders helped carry out the slaughter of Tutsis in Rwanda.
But secular men and women of science also put their gifts at the service of genocide. Supremely well-educated academics lined up enthusiastically in support of heinous ideologies. They demonstrated with all the tools of their craft that some racial groups were subhuman that mentally-challenged people were “useless eaters,” that enemies of the state did not deserve to live. They designed gas chambers and carried out medical experiments in concentration camps; they persecuted political prisoners in psychiatric hospitals in the Soviet Union.
Does religious faith make people better? Some believers heroically defied the Nazis, fought in other eras for the abolition of slavery and apartheid, work hard throughout the world to alleviate poverty and hunger. Secular atheist heroes have also done all of these things. What are we to make of this? Religion can inspire noble and courageous acts, but there is no hard evidence that religion leads inevitably to improvements in human behavior. It is so called religious people, after all, who blow up abortion clinics, carry out suicide bombings, and terror attacks.
It is also clear, unfortunately, that reason and science alone do not lead us to the good. The most powerful microscope or telescope can’t provide evidence that mentally or physically challenged people should not be gassed. Logic alone will not make you a moral person. It offers no transcendent values and ethics.
It was for this reason, perhaps, that Albert Einstein uttered his famous words: “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.” The words suggest that the two can and should co-exist in the mind of a modern Jew, or any person who desires the best for humankind.
Francis Collins, the distinguished scientist who heads up the Human Genome Project. In his book called “The Language of God,” Collins says that unlocking the genetic structure of life and contemplating the process of evolution only enhanced his religious consciousness.
For Einstein and Collins, the advancement of the scientific frontier does not erode belief; rather, the more we learn about the universe, the more amazing and awesome it becomes.
Religion focuses on meaning and value – questions about how we should live and the purpose of our existence. In a famous phrase, scientist, Stephen J. Gould described religion and science as “non-overlapping magisteria”; they are, he said, two separate domains of intellectual authority and neither should interfere with the other.
This is an attractive idea to those of us who want to live in both worlds, to embrace the findings of science while anchoring ourselves in the world of faith and tradition. But we should realize that a religion that wants to co-exist harmoniously with science can not be a simpleminded faith.
First, no religion that reads the Bible literally is compatible with reason and science. No religion that sees in the Bible factual statements about the birth of the cosmos and the origin of life is compatible with science.
Fortunately, that’s not a problem for Judaism. Liberal Jews have never seen the Bible as the literal word of God.  Even traditional Judaism has never favored a narrow, simple, fundamentalist reading of the text.  Our earliest commentaries favor multiple interpretations, allegory, symbolism and metaphor.
In the 12th century, before the advent of telescopes, microscopes and the scientific method, the physician Maimonides wrote that the search for truth draws us closer to God. Exploring the laws of nature, he taught, increases our reverence and awe; so the religious person need not fear the gift of intellect. Maimonides added that if the verifiable discoveries of science are ever shown to contradict the Torah, then the Torah must be re-interpreted and understood differently.
No religion that claims that God protects good people from harm, and punishes evil through the mechanism of earthquakes, fires, floods or disease is compatible with the findings of science. Fortunately, I, as a committed Jew, am not required to believe any such thing. Already in the Talmud we find a statement that the world operates according to the regular laws of nature, without regard to our good or evil acts [Avodah Zarah 54b].
What, then, am I asked to believe, as a committed and faithful modern Jew? Do any of these beliefs contradict the findings of science or reason? And can I, with sincerity and integrity, say the prayers given to us to read on these High Holy Days?
Remember, first, that we shouldn’t read prayers for information about the world around us the way we’d pick up a textbook or the New York Times. We read prayers as we read literature or poetry, attentive to sound and rhythm and powerful symbols. No Jew, no matter how pious or observant, claims that God composed our prayers. They are profoundly human words, a record of Jewish hopes, dreams and fears—crystallized in heartfelt words.
Some prayers go back 2000 years to the time of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem. Some were composed by the sages of Talmudic times. Some come from the medieval period of Crusaders, Inquisition and martyrdom. Some were composed in our own time. Many passages in the prayer book are not prayers in the literal sense at all. They are passages from the Bible and other study texts, intended to teach Jewish values, addressed not to God but to us.
Prayers speak in the idiom and metaphors of their own time. So some address God as mighty king or shepherd or judge of all the earth. Maimonides and others teach us never to take these metaphors literally or to mistake them for factual statements about God. They are human attempts to comprehend the nature of being and our place in the world.
Here’s what I think the poets who composed our Jewish prayers were really saying:
They said that they experienced life as a whole, with all its struggles and joys and incomprehensible pain, as a precious gift and a blessing. For reasons we don’t comprehend we are called into being, given consciousness and breath. They were not blasé about the incredible fact that we are here at all. They affirmed the sanctity of life, teaching that preserving and protecting life is our sacred obligation.
They found the universe amazing, wondrous, stunning and elegant in its order. Entranced by the natural rhythms of times and seasons, the passage of the heavenly bodies in their orbits, they sought to create the same beautiful, stable, comforting rhythms in their own lives through customs and ceremonies to mark the passages of life.
They saw themselves as part of a distinct people, called to particular tasks and responsibilities in the world; a people with a unique purpose and destiny. They responded to that call with gratitude – an emotion all the more poignant because they were fully aware of the price they paid every day for continuing to be Jews. They regarded with love their Torah, their teaching, grateful for its guidance and wisdom, inspired by its continual challenge to be more and better and higher than they were.
They felt at this autumn season an especially keen sense of the fragility of life, how quickly it passes, how suddenly it leaves us. They believed that we should use our fleeting time to do more than satisfy our own appetites. They taught that we are summoned to lift up our lives to a great purpose, to work to repair what is broken and wounded, to live with righteousness and holiness.
They believed that in the end, goodness would prevail. They believed, like the Reverend Martin Luther King, that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Even in the darkest times, they defiantly declared their commitment to hope.
Can you affirm these things? Can you say these prayers? Can you sing them in the ancient language of our people, feeling in the joining of our voices, a sense that we are part of something greater than ourselves? That, after all, is the central purpose of our Judaism, isn’t it: to expand our awareness and lift us out of the closed circle of self-concern.
My modern Judaism does not give me absolute certainty, and it does not always give me peace. It gives me, more than anything else, a sense of challenge and hope in what people can do, guided and instructed by the highest truths we know by God
My Judaism says that in a world where the very earthquakes under our feet and solid structures fall into the sea, we can be steadfast and constant in our care for one another. It says that the whole world is a narrow bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Rabbi Art: Moses’ Valedictory Song

Haazinu, Deuteronomy 32:1–52 The Last Lecture: Moses’s Valedictory Song, by Sue Levi Elwell

What would you say to the people you care about if you knew you were about to die? How would you choose and position your words to reflect your deepest commitments? How would you capture and then keep the attention of your listeners and, without self-pity, give them the tools to carry on after you are gone? Every year, when we Jews are focused on questions of life and death during the High Holy Day season, we read Moses’s last lecture, Moses’s final song. Few of us have the opportunity—and the skill—to articulate a valedictory speech, a legacy of direction to those we love. Moses’s words as presented in Parashat Haazinu and preserved for so many centuries pose more questions than answers. These words serve to provoke more than to calm, to challenge rather than to comfort. Moses’s words are in the form of a poem, Shirat Haazinu, also called the Song of Moses. In the Torah scroll, and in some printed versions, these forty-three verses are written in two columns, the only poem that appears in this format in the Torah. Each set of two lines is composed with related meaning and called"bicola." This ancient form was chosen by the editors of the Torah to underscore the importance of Moses’s last words, even as the poem tells of a"relationship gone awry” (Andrea L. Weiss, in The Torah: A Women’s Commentary, ed. Tamara Cohn Eskenazi and Andrea L. Weiss [New York: URJ Press, 2008], p. 1,251). The poem begins with great strength as Moses addresses not only the people, but also the heavens and the earth:"Give ear, O heavens, let me speak; / Let the earth hear the words I utter!” (Deuteronomy 32:1). He continues by invoking the natural water sources above and below and comparing his words to their power:"May my discourse come down as the rain, / My speech distill as the dew, / Like showers on young growth, / Like droplets on the grass” (Deuteronomy 32:2). As Moses stands at the edge of the land he will not enter, he pours out his heart to his people. The words that tumble from his mouth are full of love, but as so often happens when we desperately hope that our listeners will take our words to heart, Moses turns to rebuke, warning, and threat. While God is"upright," the Israelites are"Unworthy children— / That crooked, perverse generation” (Deuteronomy 32:4–5). Employing a rich range of metaphors, Moses speaks of God as father, as companion, as eagle, as nursing mother. In spite of this nurturing, the Israelites"grew fat and gross and coarse— / They forsook the God who made them / And spurned the Rock of their support” (Deuteronomy 32:15). Only when God realizes the potential drawbacks of destroying the people does God decide to preserve them—and honor the covenant. Moses recalls God’s words:"I might have reduced them to naught, / Made their memory cease among humankind, / But for fear of the taunts of the foe, / Their enemies who might misjudge / And say, ‘Our own hand has prevailed’” (Deuteronomy 32:26–27). Instead of offering us a nechemta, a message of comfort and healing, the final images of the poem are of an angry, vengeful God:"O nations, acclaim God’s people! / For He’ll avenge the blood of His servants / Wreak vengeance on His foes, / And cleanse His people’s land” (Deuteronomy 32:43). Who is Moses as he delivers these words? Does Moses feel caught between his loves: his love of God and his love for the Jewish people, described here as hopelessly entangled in conflict? Is the weather-beaten, still powerful patriarch expressing his own pain and terror as he reflects on this strained relationship, a relationship that represents his lifework, his raison d’etre? As Moses concludes, his tone markedly changes:"He said to them [all Israel]: Take to heart all the words with which I have warned you this day. Enjoin them upon your children, that they may observe faithfully all the terms of this Teaching. For this is not a trifling thing for you: it is your very life; through it you shall long endure on the land that you are to possess upon crossing the Jordan” (Deuteronomy 32:46–47). Moses has been speaking to the Israelites for over forty years as God’s mouthpiece, attempting to serve both his God and his people. Here, at the last moment, he wants desperately to give direction and guidance to the people he is about to leave. With words of love that reflect his life’s passion, he reminds them that true service to the Holy One demands all our energy—indeed, our entire beings. He points the people to read these words as one part of a much larger corpus:"take to heart all the words,” those spoken today and those spoken on our long journey from slavery to freedom, on the shared and arduous trek toward the land of promise. These teachings are"your very life.” The parashah concludes with one of the most poignant exchanges in the Torah. God tells Moses,"Ascend these heights . . . to Mount Nebo . . . and view the land of Canaan, which I am giving the Israelites as their holding. You shall die on the mountain that you are about to ascend, and shall be gathered to your kin. . . . You may view the land from a distance, but you shall not enter it—the land that I am giving to the Israelite people” (Deuteronomy 32:49–52). Perhaps this excerpt from the poem “I Wasn’t One of the Six Million: And What Is My Life Span? Open Closed Open,” by the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, best describes our patriarch at this moment: . . .

I still have the fire and the smoke
within me, pillars of fire and pillars of smoke that guide me
by night and by day. I still have inside me the mad search
for emergency exits, for soft places, for the nakedness
of the land, for the escape into weakness and hope,
I still have within me the lust to search for living water
with quiet talk to the rock or with frenzied blows.
Afterwards, silence: no questions, no answers.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Rabbi Art: Moving Beyond Race

Moving Beyond Race: Say No to bigotry!
Rosh Hashanah 5769
Rabbi Art Donsky

This morning and tomorrow morning we encounter two very striking
and powerful stories in the Torah, from Sefer Bereshit, Genesis, chapters 21
and 22.  These stories examine the intensity of family relationships, among
Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Hagar and Ishmael, our blended first family.  Yet,
these stories I believe also speak to us about the complexities and pain, the
disappointments and prejudices experienced by the larger human family,
then in antiquity, and sadly still, today.  How honestly we are willing
explore these core narratives of our people and humanity in general, I
believe, can be critical for us as Jews and as Americans in the coming years. 
Let’s look at the text:

And Sarah saw the son whom Hagar, the Egyptian had borne to
Abraham playing.  She said to Abraham, “Cast out that slave-woman and
her son, for the son of that slave shall not share in the inheritance with my
son Isaac.

What strong and awe-filled words from the ancient matriarch Sarah!
Distress is written all over Abraham’s face.  He had a close relationship with
Hagar and his son, her son, Ishmael. God reassures Abraham that Ishmael,
this son with Hagar will become a “nation, blessed and numerous, too, for he
is your seed.”

We have to ask what’s going on?  What precipitated this situation? 
What is the Torah and our ancestors, who, at first, orally communicated
these stories and then hundreds of years later, penned them onto parchment,
what are we being taught? 

First, just why did Sarah dislike Hagar so much and treat her so
harshly and want her “cast out”?  Remember Hagar had already run away
once because of being mistreated by Sarah and was told to return and to
submit what the Torah calls, “intolerable treatment.”

Many reasons have been offered by our tradition. Sarah, in her own
words, tells Abraham that she felt “lowered in her esteem” before the
handmaid who gave birth to her husband’s son when, she Sarah, couldn’t
give Abraham an heir. Sarah’s “self-esteem” was lowered? 

Curiously, the famed commentator, Rashi, and early rabbis in the
midrash offer the suggestion that Sarah caught Ishmael “taunting” her little
son, Isaac. They give no offer motives.

So what can we make of it all?  Let’s examine the Torah text closely. 
Who was Hagar?  She was an Egyptian slave girl given to Abraham to birth
a child, a male heir, when Sarah wasn’t able to do so. In that world not being
able to bring forth a male heir was devastating; grounds for divorce. I can
imagine there was much jealousy and envy on Sarah’s part?  Hagar was not
a Hebrew slave, rather an Egyptian slave, along with Canaanites, the lowest
of the lows in the eyes of the Hebrews and later Israelites. 

And let’s consider what Hagar’s name meant: stranger! She was the
ultimate Stranger from a different cultural, a different language, a different
skin-color – Egyptians were of African ancestry back then, not Arab
ancestry like today. 

All the Torah’s laws about not mistreating the stranger come much later, and
perhaps for good reason especially if we view several other examples in the
Genesis and Numbers.

Consider the tale of Noah and his sons.  His youngest, Ham, is cursed by his
father. Ham, whose name means, Dark-skinned, is the direct ancestor of
Canaan, the parent of the Canaanites, who along with Egyptians are
considered the lowest of the lows of human beings.

Skip ahead to Sefer Bemidbar, the Book of Numbers, Miriam speaks out to
Aaron against Moses. Why? Because we are told Moses takes a Cushite
woman, an Ethiopian woman as a wife. What happens? You may remember,
Miriam is punished by having her skin turn white and flaky and is put
outside the camp.  And Moses must beg God to heal her.

Finally, the prophets of ancient Israel, Amos and Malachi, for example,
remind the people that God teaches, “To Me, O Israelites, you are like the
Ethiopians,” and “Have we not one Father? Did not God create us? Why do
we break faith with one another?”

I am not suggesting that our ancestors of Biblical times were raging racists
of the worst kind, ready to wear KKK garb. Not at all, instead what I am
suggesting is that the very human writers of Torah and the Bible understood
that their societies had very real ingrained prejudices against strangers that
existed and that they had a duty to struggle against such bigotry.  Expose the
problem, in this case hatred and prejudice, don’t sweep them under the
proverbial rug, that’s how the Bible deal with difficult concerns.

Within the same scroll of the Torah that refuses to hide from us, the tragic
and painful episodes of Sarah and Hagar, Noah and Ham, Miriam, Aaron
and Moses, the same Torah gives us the Holiness Code of Sefer Vayikra, the
Book of Leviticus, chapter 19 and elsewhere, 36 times, in fact, the demand
not to do anything to hurt, harm, or mistreat the stranger!  These teachings of
Leviticus didn’t cover over, white-wash or ignore the societies prejudices.
Our ancestors confront this baseless prejudice and hatred head on, over and
over. The stranger, the widow, the poor, and the orphan all need protection.

The rabbis of the Mishneh and Talmud, over 1500 years ago amplify the
sacred obligations offered in Leviticus not to mistreat or hurt stranger.  “we
learn that all people are descendants from a single person so that no person
can say, “my ancestor is greater than yours.” God created humanity “from
the four corners of the earth - yellow clay, and white sand, black loam and
red soil. Therefore, the earth can declare to no part of humanity that it does
not belong here, that this soil is not their rightful home.”

And the rabbis add, ““Just a single person was created, for the sake of peace
– so that no one could say to another, “My parent was greater than yours.”
Moreover, only a single person was created, in order to emphasize the
greatness of God. For whenever a mortal stamps many coins using one die,
all the coins are alike; but when God stamps all human beings with the die of
the first person created, each one of them is, nevertheless, unique.”

Okay, if prejudice and mistrust were the norm in biblical and rabbinic times,
what about today?  How do we treat “the stranger”? Do we heed the mitzvot
of the Torah? Do we love the stranger? Do we protect the stranger? 

We know that America does not have the best record with regard to
strangers. In fact, throughout this country’s history the record is awful, we
must be honest, especially at this season of the year. 

Slavery.  Internment camps during wartime. Closing of our borders to those
fleeing persecution. Mistreat of immigrants. 

Sadly, Biblical times have very little on us.  And its not any better if you
look around the world.  But what about us, those of us sitting here today, we
must ask.

Consider the following situations:

You are walking one night in the city and you turn a corner and in front you,
you see six large black men walking toward you; what is going through your
mind?  What are you feeling? 

Or:

You are waiting to board an overseas flight, and boarding has been delayed
and then you see a Muslim couple wearing traditional garb called out by
name to come up to the check-in counter; what is your reaction?  What are
you feeling?

Or:

You are trying out a new Chinese restaurant, you seat yourself, waiting for
someone to bring you a menu and some bring you tea and those crunchy,
fried noodles.  You notice that all the employees are speaking loudly and in
animated fashion, and staring directly at you; you wonder what you have
done?

Or:

Your landscaping company has hired some new employees they are all
Mexicans, and they a boombox with them playing music loudly. In the past
you always would go out to speak landscape workers and bring them
something to drink and eat, sometimes you let them into your house to use
the phone and bathroom; what are you going to do now?  What are thinking
and feeling?

Now let’s reconsider these four scenarios with some additional
information:

In the first instance as the large men get closer and closer to you and
your pulse is racing, you notice that they are carrying Bibles with big crosses
on the cover coming from a church Bible study– now how do you feel?  Or
what if as they get closer you recognize them as some of your favorite
players on the Pittsburgh Steelers?

Now to the second scenario:  because you are nervous about seeing a
Muslim couple in traditional clothing getting on your flight, in the first
place, you decide to approach the check-in counter too, with the pretense of
checking your seat location, while really hoping to hear what’s going.  You
discover they are being told that there isn’t a Hallel meal and would they be
okay eating a kosher meal?  What’s going through your mind now?

Scenario number three:  You’re an African-American man sitting in a
Chinese restaurant and it’s not the first time you’ve encounter this problem. 
Again, you approach manager to ask for service and you wonder will this
prejudice ever end!


Finally, you look out your kitchen window into the garden, it’s a very
hot day, you are trying to decide what to do. You are going to fill up some
glasses of water, when the phone rings; it’s a neighbor complaining about
the kind of music blasting. Do you listen to her complaint and whatever else
she might offer the immigrant laborers in your garden? Or do you hang up
and fill up the glasses!

So where do we stand, each one us?  How we would deal with these
situations?  How do we wrestle with our own demons or our own
prejudices?  What is in our hearts and minds when we encounter the
“stranger in our midst?” We, the historic suffering stranger, we the ultimate
outsider, we, the people to whom the Torah commands, “don’t mistreat the
stranger because you know the heart of the stranger,” how do we measure
up? 

Living in North Carolina in the early 1980’s I can remember the day
that Suzanne and I were driving along a two-lane rode and saw a fire blazing
into the sky. At first we slowed to see if someone needed help, then
suddenly we saw before us a horrifying site, it was a giant cross aflame, a
cross-burning with people dressed in white robes and hoods.  Both of us
were speechless (I know that’s hard to believe) I never pressed the gas
peddle so fast and so hard. For me witnessing such an event only confirmed
the values instilled by my family and my Judaism that prejudice and bigotry
have no place in the human heart.


Let me say, that some of us here and throughout America are not
doing too well. Our years of internalized, perhaps now unconscious
prejudice seems to be surfacing as we approach November 4th, the day when
Americans will go to the polls to choose between Senator John McCain and
Senator Barack Obama. 

Post-Gazette columnist, Tony Norman, writing in a recent column on
racism, tells us, “according to an AP/Yahoo News poll, a third of white
Democrats (not to speak of white Republicans) admit that the color of the
presidential candidate will determine who gets their vote on November 4th.”
1/3!  Other surveys uncover similar results.

Norman goes on to say that “this is better news than its looks initially.
We had to wait 100 years after the Civil War ended for Congress and a
Democratic president to agree on landmark voting rights legislation that
upheld the sanctity of the 14th Amendment by enshrining every citizen’s
right to vote.” He goes on to suggest with a tone of surprise that so soon
after Jim Crow that the percentage isn’t higher!  Norman also reminds us
that Republicans share this phenomenon as well.  He concludes his
challenging commentary as follows: “don’t think of the biracial candidate as
a black man; think instead of him as three-fifths a white guy. That will get
you through Election Day with a clear-conscience.”

I am not suggesting that if Obama loses the election to McCain that it
will be only because of racism, not at all.  What I am suggesting is that we
are obligated by our tradition to remove from our hearts and minds any
vestiges of prejudice and bigotry and if this means being on constant guard
against it such feelings and thoughts, then that is our sacred obligation.


This election or any other election should not be about race.  (Or for
that matter ethnicity!  Substitute Arab American for African American? )

No, this election should not be about race, rather is must be about who
will lead us at this difficult time, home and aboard. 


Friends, we in the Jewish community should especially be colorblind
when we enter the voting booth, as we should be in our homes. 

Our biblical ancestors did not live in a colorblind world. They lived in
a tribal society, close-knit, exclusive of outsiders and wary, distrustful, even
hateful of strangers.  I believe that the Torah’s brutal honesty in the
narratives about Sarah and Hagar, Noah and Ham, Miriam, Aaron and
Moses and the prophets thunderous condemnation of the peoples behavior
toward the Other has been passed down so that we can do better, much
better. 

As the preacher proclaimed 45 years:

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ‘tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.

When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!

This is now the season for our community to free the heart, to cleanse it, so
that we may stand before God on Yom Kippur, ready for a new year filled
with joy, with health, with life and with a commitment to a better world,
closer to the ideals of our tradition. 

Rabbi Art: Judaism and Science

Judaism and Science: A Modern Faith Partners not Rivals
Rosh Hashanah 5769
Rabbi Art Donsky's Rosh Hashanah sermon

On November 1, 1755, it was All Saints’ Day in Lisbon, Portugal –
then one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.  That day, as the churches
were packed with devout worshipers at mass, a devastating earthquake
struck the city. A modern writer describes it like this: “Just before ten in the
morning, the city was hit by a sudden sideways lurch now estimated in
magnitude 9.0 and shaken furiously for seven full minutes.
Bill Bryson, author of , “A Short History of Nearly Everything,”
presents a primary source, “The convulsive force was so great that the water
rushed out of the city’s harbor and returned in a wave fifty feet high, adding
to the destruction. When at last the motion ceased, survivors waited just
three minutes of calm before a second shock came, only slightly less severe
than the first. A third and final shock followed two hours later. At the end of
it all, sixty thousand people were dead, and virtually every building for miles
reduced to rubble”. 
The Lisbon earthquake, followed by five days of horrific fires, was the
most catastrophic natural disaster of the 18th century – it has been called the
first disaster of the modern age. Scenes of mass carnage set off seismic shifts
in the mind and heart, as well. Ideals were shattered along with the great
cathedrals. When churches collapse and bury thousands of pious people at
prayer, it is hard to cling to the notion of a beneficient God who governs the
universe with justice.
But the day after the earthquake some priests had already mounted
their pulpits to explain that the disaster was God’s dire punishment of the
people of Portugal for their many sins, including their love for music,
dancing, theater and bull fights. 
Human beings, then as now, are compelled to make sense of the
universe. We look for patterns, we search for meaning, we dread the very
idea of randomness. A God who created the universe with a grand design, a
Supreme Being who cares about each one of us, a Being who rewards and
punishes us in accordance with our deeds – such a God makes the world
intelligible.
The Lisbon earthquake, with all its horrors, was a turning point for the
philosophers of the Enlightenment. It made them ask deep questions about
the idea of religious faith.
Science and reason have made war on religion since the time of
Copernicus, gathering force in every generation, slashing away at the
foundations of faith and undermining its claims on the human mind.
Recently, a spate of books have appeared with the view that science’s
victory over religion as cause for celebration.
Many of today’s attacks on religious faith are waged with a sense of
malicious contempt. Read Christopher Hitchens’ “God is Not Great: How
Religion Poisons Everything”—or Richard Dawkins’ “The God Delusion.”
argue, with varying degrees of eloquence, that religion, all religion,
preaches lies and stupidities and stands in the way of human progress; that
those who practice religion are at best fools and at worst dangerous fanatics
who threaten the survival of the human race. Dawkins, an important
evolutionary biologist, has curiously suggested that we refer to atheists as
“brights,” which leaves believers, I guess, as “dulls”.
Can religion and science coexist today in the mind of a modern Jew?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself intensely for a long time. I am
fascinated by science; I have built my life on Judaism and the Jewish People;
I have profound respect for the intellect; I do not want to be a fool or a dull. I
want to know what I can honestly believe. This is an ultimate issue for me –
I know that it is for you, as well.
Our questions matter especially tonight, as we enter these holy days:
this intense season of prayer and repentance before the One whom we Jews
call the Judge of all the earth. What, exactly, are we doing here? Why are we
doing it? Is this coming together in prayer no more than an antiquated ritual,
a primitive act of groveling to an imaginary king in the sky? Is it, as Freud
might argue, a collective exercise in fantasy, an expression of our longing
for a perfect father?
Do we mean the words we read aloud from the prayer book? Can we
believe, really believe, in the religious value of what we are doing here
tonight? Or should we chalk it up to a purely humanistic experience: a
chance to sit quietly and think about whatever we like, a chance to get
together with friends and enjoy beautiful music and a sense of community?
I want to say that I can endorse some of what Christopher Hitchens
and Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins have to say. Some religious teachings
are foolish or destructive, or both. Some religious people, threatened by the
teachings of science, close their eyes to facts and try to impose their
ideologies on others by force. Some religious practitioners commit atrocious
acts; some are inspired to do so by their religion. Religious wars have killed
millions and they continue to ravage our world.
Does religion, then, do more evil than good?  I see no evidence
whatever that religion creates the human propensity for aggression or evil,
though certainly, religion is used by unscrupulous leaders to incite bigotry
and hate. So also are all human institutions – governments, medicine,
science, the education system, the legal system – subject to manipulation in
destructive ways. All are created and administered by people, and people are
flawed. Religion claims, in fact, that it is because people are fallible and
flawed that we need the discipline of faith and tradition in the first place.
If there were no religions around, I have no doubt that people would
come up with other ways to hurt and oppress one another. That’s certainly
been the case in countries where religion has been rigidly suppressed.
Communist China and Stalinist Russia were not known for benevolent
treatment of their citizens. The worst genocides of the 20th century took
place under secular, atheist regimes.
It’s true that religious people cooperated with such genocides.
Devout Christians served in the Gestapo and supported Fascism; religious
leaders helped carry out the slaughter of Tutsis in Rwanda .
But secular men and women of science also put their gifts at the
service of genocide. Supremely well-educated academics lined up
enthusiastically in support of heinous ideologies. They demonstrated with all
the tools of their craft that some racial groups were subhuman that mentally-
challenged people were “useless eaters,” that enemies of the state did not
deserve to live. They designed gas chambers and carried out medical
experiments in concentration camps; they persecuted political prisoners in
psychiatric hospitals in the Soviet Union.
Does religious faith make people better? Some believers heroically
defied the Nazis, fought in other eras for the abolition of slavery and
apartheid, work hard throughout the world to alleviate poverty and hunger.
Secular atheist heroes have also done all of these things. What are we to
make of this? Religion can inspire noble and courageous acts, but there is no
hard evidence that religion leads inevitably to improvements in human
behavior. It is so called religious people, after all, who blow up abortion
clinics, carry out suicide bombings, and terror attacks.
It is also clear, unfortunately, that reason and science alone do not
lead us to the good. The most powerful microscope or telescope can’t
provide evidence that mentally or physically challenged people should not
be gassed. Logic alone will not make you a moral person. It offers no
transcendent values and ethics.
It was for this reason, perhaps, that Albert Einstein uttered his
famous words: “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is
blind.” The words suggest that the two can and should co-exist in the mind
of a modern Jew, or any person who desires the best for humankind.
Francis Collins, the distinguished scientist who heads up the Human
Genome Project. In his book called “The Language of God,” Collins says
that unlocking the genetic structure of life and contemplating the process of
evolution only enhanced his religious consciousness. 
For Einstein and Collins, the advancement of the scientific frontier
does not erode belief; rather, the more we learn about the universe, the more
amazing and awesome it becomes.
Religion focuses on meaning and value – questions about how we
should live and the purpose of our existence. In a famous phrase, scientist,
Stephen J. Gould described religion and science as “non-overlapping
magisteria”; they are, he said, two separate domains of intellectual authority
and neither should interfere with the other.
This is an attractive idea to those of us who want to live in both
worlds, to embrace the findings of science while anchoring ourselves in the
world of faith and tradition. But we should realize that a religion that wants
to co-exist harmoniously with science cannot be a simpleminded faith.
First, no religion that reads the Bible literally is compatible with
reason and science. No religion that sees in the Bible factual statements
about the birth of the cosmos and the origin of life is compatible with
science.
Fortunately, that’s not a problem for Judaism. Liberal Jews have
never seen the Bible as the literal word of God.  Even traditional Judaism
has never favored a narrow, simple, fundamentalist reading of the text.  Our
earliest commentaries favor multiple interpretations, allegory, symbolism
and metaphor.
In the 12th century, before the advent of telescopes, microscopes and
the scientific method, the physician Maimonides wrote that the search for
truth draws us closer to God. Exploring the laws of nature, he taught,
increases our reverence and awe; so the religious person need not fear the
gift of intellect. Maimonides added that if the verifiable discoveries of
science are ever shown to contradict the Torah, then the Torah must be re-
interpreted and understood differently.
No religion that claims that God protects good people from harm,
and punishes evil through the mechanism of earthquakes, fires, floods or
disease is compatible with the findings of science. Fortunately, I, as a
committed Jew, am not required to believe any such thing. Already in the
Talmud we find a statement that the world operates according to the regular
laws of nature, without regard to our good or evil acts [Avodah Zarah 54b].
What, then, am I asked to believe, as a committed and faithful
modern Jew? Do any of these beliefs contradict the findings of science or
reason? And can I, with sincerity and integrity, say the prayers given to us to
read on these High Holy Days?
Remember, first, that we shouldn’t read prayers for information
about the world around us the way we’d pick up a textbook or the New York
Times. We read prayers as we read literature or poetry, attentive to sound
and rhythm and powerful symbols. No Jew, no matter how pious or
observant, claims that God composed our prayers. They are profoundly
human words, a record of of Jewish hopes, dreams and fears—crystallized
in heartfelt words.
Some prayers go back 2000 years to the time of the ancient Temple
in Jerusalem. Some were composed by the sages of Talmudic times. Some
come from the medieval period of Crusaders, Inquisition and martyrdom.
Some were composed in our own time. Many passages in the prayer book
are not prayers in the literal sense at all. They are passages from the Bible
and other study texts, intended to teach Jewish values, addressed not to God
but to us. 
Prayers speak in the idiom and metaphors of their own time. So some
address God as mighty king or shepherd or judge of all the earth.
Maimonides and others teach us never to take these metaphors literally or to
mistake them for factual statements about God. They are human attempts to
comprehend the nature of being and our place in the world. 
Here’s what I think the poets who composed our Jewish prayers were
really saying:
They said that they experienced life as a whole, with all its struggles
and joys and incomprehensible pain, as a precious gift and a blessing. For
reasons we don’t comprehend we are called into being, given consciousness
and breath. They were not blasé about the incredible fact that we are here at
all. They affirmed the sanctity of life, teaching that preserving and protecting
life is our sacred obligation.
They found the universe amazing, wondrous, stunning and elegant in
its order. Entranced by the natural rhythms of times and seasons, the passage
of the heavenly bodies in their orbits, they sought to create the same
beautiful, stable, comforting rhythms in their own lives through customs and
ceremonies to mark the passages of life.
They saw themselves as part of a distinct people, called to particular
tasks and responsibilities in the world; a people with a unique purpose and
destiny. They responded to that call with gratitude – an emotion all the more
poignant because they were fully aware of the price they paid every day for
continuing to be Jews. They regarded with love their Torah, their teaching,
grateful for its guidance and wisdom, inspired by its continual challenge to
be more and better and higher than they were.
They felt at this autumn season an especially keen sense of the
fragility of life, how quickly it passes, how suddenly it leaves us. They
believed that we should use our fleeting time to do more than satisfy our
own appetites. They taught that we are summoned to lift up our lives to a
great purpose, to work to repair what is broken and wounded, to live with
righteousness and holiness.
They believed that in the end, goodness would prevail. They believed,
like the Reverend Martin Luther King, that “The arc of the moral universe is
long, but it bends toward justice.” Even in the darkest times, they defiantly
declared their commitment to hope. 
Can you affirm these things? Can you say these prayers? Can you
sing them in the ancient language of our people, feeling in the joining of our
voices, a sense that we are part of something greater than ourselves? That,
after all, is the central purpose of our Judaism, isn’t it: to expand our
awareness and lift us out of the closed circle of self-concern.
My modern Judaism does not give me absolute certainty, and it does
not always give me peace. It gives me, more than anything else, a sense of
challenge and hope in what people can do, guided and instructed by the
highest truths we know by God
My Judaism says that in a world where the very earthquakes under
our feet and solid structures fall into the sea, we can be steadfast and
constant in our care for one another. It says that the whole world is a narrow
bridge, and the most important thing is not to be afraid. 

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Rabbi Art: Debates, Steelers, and Services

Dear Friends,

This Friday evening at 9:00 PM the first of the Presidential Debates between Senator McCain and Senator Obama will take place. I, like many of you, want to view this and the other debates live. With the election so close many Americans will use the information provided by the debates to guide their choice of President. Of course, we can record them, but honestly, we want to be with family and friends, analyzing and critiquing the candidates as the event is happening. 

Therefore, rest assured our Kabbalat Shabbat service that begins at 7:30 PM will allow you plenty of time to make it home for the debate in its entirety.  So please join us for this evening Shabbat service so close to the New Year and put yourself in the proper mood for the Days of Awe.

Also, as requested, below is my D’var Torah, from last Friday evening sharing my thoughts entitled, “God, Torah and Israel versus the Steeler Nation!” Just in case anyone needs a pep-talk why they should be in synagogue with our temple family next Monday evening and not at the Steeler’s game or watching it at home please take a look (Tivo and DVRs were made for recording sporting events so you skip over the commercials!)

God, Torah, Israel vs. Steelers’ Nation
On Monday evening September 29 an interesting collision between sports and religion will again occur.  Maybe not with potential nuclear capability of the particle reactor in Europe that was recently tested, however, the vibrations will be felt throughout our fair city and elsewhere, I’m sure.

Our beloved Steelers are playing a Monday night game at Heinz field against the Baltimore Ravens and game time and Erev Rosh Hashanah will collide.  You may remember this happened a few years ago on Kol Nidre.  I guess this is a price you pay for having a very successful franchise that draws well throughout the country; you are always a candidate for Monday Night, or Sunday Night or Thursday Night football.

So what do you do?  Choose God, Torah and the Jewish People? Or, do you choose the Steeler Nation?

For many of us this is not a choice; being Jewish comes first and we are right where we are suppose to be (and yes our Tivos or DVR can do the work for us, but the issue is bigger than this). Of course, the decision might be a little harder if you have season tickets.  Right, there are only so many home games. 

Now, let me ask you.  Would this have been a question for anyone in the Jewish community 25 years ago?  50 years ago? 100 years ago?  Not at all! So what has happened that makes this even a “choice” for some?

More importantly, do those who choose to attend the game instead of attending Rosh HaShanah really understand the consequences of their actions?  I’m not talking hell, fire and brimstone.  I leave that kind of talk to others!

One thing that has changed is that most Jews outside the orthodox world are primarily secular in their outlook, decision-making, and synagogue attendance.  We get our opinions about important matters from the Wall Street Journal or the New York Times, or on-line versions of the same.  And we don’t fear that the hand of God will strike us down if we don’t attend Shabbat services or any other synagogue event with any regularity. I am not advocating such a Judaism based on such fear.  However, we live in a community where God has been dethroned, if you will, by any number of modern day idols, American or not.  Here in the North Hills and Western PA, in general, Friday night high school football is God!  And many of our families bow down to that God, as do most of their neighbors.  Hard to beat the peer pressure! Gee, when the Israelites worshipped the Golden Calf, wasn’t it Aaron who led the way!!! (Just a thought about the clergy who offer prayers before the games so that God will be on their side so they will be guaranteed to beat the other team!)

And when it comes to making serious choices, non-orthodox Jews look elsewhere as I mentioned before.  Our reform movement advocates “educated, informed choice,” and what does this mean? Seriously, how many look to Jewish tradition to inform such a decision about missing Rosh Hashanah services? This year, two of our school districts play each other in football nearly at the same time that Yom Kippur Neilah services conclude.  We generally don’t look for answers in places or traditions where we know the answer isn’t the one we want to hear!  Some would say, “oh, you know the expression: it’s hard to be a Jew!” That’s a cop-out if we are honest.  Really, it’s about setting priorities and looking at the long-term consequences of our actions, something all of us don’t always enjoy viewing.

A reform Jewish position would be as follows, and there really isn’t any difference on this issue between the different movements:  Rosh HaShanah is understood as both the Day of Judgement and the Day of the World’s Birthing, one needs to be in synagogue with one’s family and one’s community. This is a mitzvah – not a good deed, rather a commandment, a sacred obligation. Judaism is not a tradition, a faith, a people in which we celebrate alone, by ourselves, in a cave, on a mountain-top: As it has been said, “life is with people.” If everyone made Shabbos for himself/herself, if everyone set up their own Rosh Hashanah what kind of Judaism would we have?  Perhaps, most compelling, I hope, is the negative message it sends to children, grandchildren, friends and relatives when a member of the household will get up from dinner on Monday the 29th, kiss everyone, maybe even say a “gut yontif”, a “shanah tovah,” and go off to Heinz Field in time for kickoff. 

Of course, there is the biggest issue lurking behind the scenes – who are we as Jews!!! As one Jewish pride book published a few years ago put, “Are we Jews for something or nothing?”

Being Jewish is more about doing Jewish than anything else.  We are what we do Jewishly.  Going to a football game or any other sporting or cultural event on the Days of Awe and let me add, Shabbat, which is holier than any other day on the calendar, is not doing Jewish.  It is affirming that being Jewish is just like being like everyone else, when in fact, since the days of Abraham and Sarah, we have been “Ivrim” “Hebrews” boundary crossers. We have been a people unwilling to jump on every trend for the sake of popularity; as one of my colleagues likes to offer, we are “counter-cultural.” This is in many ways the same battle the Hasmoneans fought in Modiin over 2,000 years ago when given the choice to fully adopt Greek culture and leave Jewish life behind, to bow to statues of Zeus, Nike, Adidas and the rest.  And it is a struggle we will always have to endure.  Adults and teens alike that have visited Israel during the past several summers have shared just how wonderful it was to be in a Jewish state where, when Shabbat arrives, the chaos of the secular, ordinary comes to an end, and something so very beautiful arrives.  While there is nothing like Shabbat or any other festival or holy day in Israel, we can have a taste of this beauty and wonder, with our observance and celebration here.

I know that I’ll be here on Erev Rosh Hashanah and the rest of the Days of Awe, beginning tomorrow night with Selikhot and our Leadership Installation, and if my words sounded too preachy, judgmental, or strident this evening, so be it. Occasionally one has to say, “Yesh Gevul,” there is a line; don’t go any further. 

Shabbat Shalom.

Shabbat Shalom and Shanah Tovah,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Ask The Rabbi: Erev Rosh Hashannah?

Editor’s Note: Questions should be submitted to . All writers will be unnamed in the column.

Dear Rabbi Art,

Wondering What To Do

Dear WWTD,

Thank you for your question. Traditionally, many conservative synagogues, following the orthodox model, offered early evening Rosh HaShanah services that were brief (45 minutes) and then the men would go home for a festive dinner with family and friends.  In the reform movement, however, late night evening Rosh Hashanah services mimicked the late night Friday evening services that were a major innovation at the time.  Also, the later service time followed the evening service for Yom Kippur that we now call, Kol Nidre.  With the creation of this later evening, after-dinner Rosh HaShanah service the reform movement offered a convenient time for adults to attend services.

Over time this evening service had taken on an important role in the reform movement.  Not only did it allow people to see and greet each other a long summer break, but since it was primarily a service attended by adults it allowed rabbis to offer longer and more serious topical sermons about the critical issues of the day that were not necessarily based upon the Torah readings of the morning services.

I would encourage you to attend our later evening Rosh Hashanah service (which starts at 7:30 PM) and have a more leisurely dinner on the second night of Rosh Hashanah since we do not hold second evening services only second day morning services.  Our Erev Rosh HaShanah service is usually quite festive, filled with our favorite High Holy Day prayers and both beautiful ancient and modern melodies. Of course, I usually do speak a little longer on Erev Rosh Hashanah and Kol Nidre than at a weekly Shabbat service, but I try to follow the advice of one of my seminary professors who taught us, “If you don’t strike oil after eighteen minutes, stop boring!”

A sweet and joyous New Year,

Rabbi Donsky

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Rabbi Art: This week from the Rabbi

Dear Friends,

It was so wonderful to see so many of you this past Shabbat at our annual Shabbat in the Park!  It was our largest gathering in several years with lots of new faces and many, many familiar ones.  We had the opportunity to welcome back our Student Cantor, Tifani Katof and introduce our new Director of Lifelong Learning, Marci Barnes.  Many thanks to our Spiritual Enrichment Committee for all their work; helping make our celebration a success.

Our preschool, under the superb guidance of Liz Sender, is getting ready for another great year.  I can’t wait to hear the cheerful sounds of our preschoolers as they go excitedly throughout the building beginning next week!  If you know anyone with preschool age children looking for a wonderful program with a very dedicated staff please give Liz a call at the temple.

Our First Friday Shabbat Celebration starts up again this coming Friday at 7 PM (dinners will begin next month).  These First Fridays are perfect for the whole family regardless of age.  Of course, our Tot Shabbat, usually the third Friday of the month fits our youngest members the best. Still, our First Fridays are opening and welcoming to all since it is filled with great music thanks to our Student Cantor, Tifani Katof, who will be with us again this Friday. Also, we will celebrate September birthdays (and any summer birthdays we missed).

Save this date! Please plan to join us for a special Havdalah, Selihot and new Temple Leadership Installation program set for Saturday evening, September 20th at 7:00 PM, so that we may prepare for the New Year 5769 with the highest ideals of our faith and community.

And in the spirit of community, under the leadership of our new Vice-President for Membership, Laura Flieder, we will be offering free classes called, “TOS 101”.  “Temple Ohav Shalom 101” will explore and explain how and why we do what we do here!  Put on a Kippah or not? Why do some people wear a Tallit and others not? Who can have an aliyah to the Torah? How do our services work? When and why do we stand at certain prayers?  And much, much more, so please bring your questions to the classes on Wednesdays, October 15, 22 and 29 at 10:00 AM and again at 7:00 PM. 

Finally, it seems that hurricane season is upon us again. Even though Gustave did not do as much damage as Katrina did three years ago, there are still many, many people in need. Of course, there are a variety of groups, the Red Cross, the United Jewish Federation of Pittsburgh, and our own Union for Reform Judaism that are collecting donations for those in need. However, let me urge you to consider giving to the Jewish Fund for Justice and checking out their unique approach to helping individuals and communities.  Take a look at this link on their website: http://jewishjustice.org/hurricane_fund.php

B’shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Rabbi Art: A new season is upon us!

Dear Friends,

Some of our young people have returned to their college campuses and some have returned to their elementary, middle and high schools, and some will get one more weekend before the academic year begins. Yes, some of us are still holding out for one last ray of summer sunshine.  And, others of us have thrown in the towel and are getting back into the swing of things.  Regardless of which group you belong, this coming Friday night is our community’s annual “Shabbat in the Park” starting at 6 PM (with Kabbalat Shabbat services at 6:45 PM.)

As I begin my twelfth year serving this wonderful congregation, one of my favorite yearly events continues to be our Shabbat gathering in North Park. Like many of you I have enjoyed watching our temple family grow and thrive and Shabbat in the Park has been a joyous, relaxing way of seeing old friends after a summer’s absence and meeting new ones who have just joined the congregation.

This year, our Student Cantor, Tifani Katof, will join us for Shabbat in the Park as she begins her second year serving our community.  So please come out to welcome her back with us.

Let me invite you to put two special dates on your September calendar. The first is Saturday evening, the 20th at 7:00 PM.  As part of our pre-High Holy Day once-a-year service of Selikhot (Spiritual Preparation) and Havdallah, we will hold our first installation of our temple leadership from our Board, our Men’s Club, our Women of Ohav and our Ohav Youth!  We hope that this program will bring all of us together in preparation for a new year.

On Sunday, September 21st, at 11:00 AM (school will finish early) we will hold a special dedication ceremony for the recently finished wing of our temple building and our new Noah’s Garden in memory of Noah Mass, may his memory always be for blessing.

I look forward to seeing and greeting all of you this coming Shabbat as well as on these two important September dates.

B’shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Rabbi Art: Summer Travels

(This week we welcome Rabbi Donsky back from serving on the faculty of the URJ Goldman Union Camp Institute, attending several conferences and some needed vacation; just in time as the temple professional staff begins preparing for the start of another year)

Dear Friends,

I now truly understand what my parents used to say, that as you get a bit older the summer seems to disappear right before your eyes.  While I can offer a detailed list all the programs and activities I enjoyed this summer, it seems that these past weeks have just flown by in a blink of an eye.  It’s just amazing!

I paid some attention to the ongoing Presidential Election campaign as I traveled this summer. However, it wasn’t until the recent mega-event at Pastor Rick Warren’s Saddleback (Mega) Church in Orange County, California that featured Senators McCain and Obama sitting with Pastor Rick (the very successful author of “The Purpose Driven Church”) answering questions one-on-one that I realized that the election is in full swing.  Watching this telecast I struck me that the evangelical movement represented by Pastor Warren and his many colleagues and their millions of members exist in a very, very different world than I, and I suspect, many of you do. 

Imagine, for a moment, if Rabbi Eric Yoffe, the president of our Union for Reform Judaism, and Rabbi David Saperstein, Executive Director of our Religious Action Center in Washington, D.C. (who, by the way, has been invited to offer the invocation at Democratic Convention next week) were able to convene such an encounter with the two presidential candidates.  And instead of a mega-church filled with evangelicals, the rabbis and senators would meet at a synagogue with lots Jews in the pews!

How different an event this would be?  What would be the most important questions?  Would our questions be so religiously parochial focusing upon such key presidential questions as when “life” begins, same-gender civil or religious marriages and the like (yes, Pastor Warren is concerned about poverty and hunger around the world this is where he differs from the likes of Pat Robertson) ?  Of course, we would have our own parochial questions about support for Israel, a two-state solution for Israel and Palestine, separation between church and state, but I would think that many more global issues would be put before the two candidates from our reform leaders.

In the months ahead I am sure that we will hear much more from and about the candidates seeking the White House at this critical time in world history.  Our democracy is a strong one that has allowed our people to thrive and flourish in America like no other country in which we have lived.  The “Jewish” vote has become even more important in key background states (think “butterfly ballots in Florida”).  Our Religious Action Center – http://www.rac.org - is creating an election guide examining the candidates’ positions on important issues and matching their positions side by side with Jewish teachings.  As a people with a long history and an important written tradition let us take the time in the coming months to examine Jewish positions as we decide how we might cast our ballots in November.  Those of us with children at home can teach them an important lesson that Jewish tradition has something important and meaningful to say about just everything under the sun! (Still trying to hold onto the summer).

Let me take a moment to welcome all of our new families who have joined during the summer, I look forward to meeting you and welcoming you into the temple family. 

B’hatz’la’kha (much good wishes and luck) to all of young people going off to college for their freshman year; learn and enjoy and please let us have your email and snail mail addresses so that we may keep in touch with you.

Finally, let me welcome Marci Barnes, our new educator who holds the title of Director of Lifelong Learning.  Marci comes to us with many years of experience as a Jewish educator. Please take a moment to welcome her and if you see a little three year-old red-head running around our Preschool, it’s probably her son, Henry (Welcome also to Marci’s husband, Frank)!  And many thanks to Lisa Wiedman, who chaired the Search Committee and to her committee members who volunteered many hours at an especially busy time of the year to find us Marci!

Shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Rabbi Art Weekly Column

Parashat Beha'ahlotekha

We read in the beginning of this week’s sedra, that the tribe of Levi was not represented by a prince and gave no special gifts at the dedication of the Tabernacle. Aaron, the High Priest, was told that he and his descendants were to light the Menorah in the Sanctuary every evening, and that this was a special gift they could make, even more important than all the other gifts the princes had given.

This past Shabbat and Shavuot (last Sunday evening) we experienced from very special gifts from our congregation. Our student Cantor, Tifani Katof, along with several of our teens led a fabulous evening Rock Shabbat filled with incredible spirit and uplifting music. In the morning, Helen Krause and Sandy Berkowitz, beautifully led our Shabbat service sharing their personal journeys, inspiring all of us as they were called to the Torah each celebrating their respective Bat Mitzvah.

And on Sunday, Rachel Dougherty, Jason Kikel, and Jake Klingensmith celebrated Kabbalat Torah during our Erev Shavuot service. (Eliana Rabinowitz celebrated her Kabbalat Torah the week before).

All of these were indeed, special gifts that enriched our community; we are especially grateful to these gift givers.  Now as we settle into our summer mode at the temple each of us can be gift givers in two important ways:  1) consider what special talents, interests, volunteer offerings you may prepare to offer for the coming year in September; 2) join us for one or two Friday evening or Saturday morning Shabbat services to help insure a minyan while giving yourself the unique gift of Shabbat itself!

B’shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Rabbi Art: This week in the Torah 5/14

Parashat Behar – Leviticus 25:1 – 26:2

We learn in this week’s sedra that according to the Torah, God told the Jewish people that planting and harvesting crops were to be done for six years, but every seventh year the land must rest. The seventh year, called the Sh’mittah, or Sabbatical year, is to be observed by not doing any farming.

This law is only used in the land of Israel. During the seventh year the land may not be farmed, but everyone must share whatever it produces naturally. The landowners and farmers must let poor people share whatever the land gives during the seventh year.

Other laws found in Parashat Behar include not allowing interest to be charged on a loan for poor people. A person forced to sell himself or herself as a servant because they are poor, may not be treated unkindly. Such a person has to be freed after six years of service. The person must be freed in the Yovel, or Jubilee Year, even if they have not served the full six years, still they must be let go free.

As usual there is much wisdom to be gleaned from the Torah’s approach to its agricultural roots.  Just as the Torah emphasizes over and over the need for a weekly Shabbat, the rules of the Sh’mittah informed its approach to the agricultural use of the land.

In Israel today, there is growing interest in environmental concerns as many rivers have been polluted and both the Kinneret (Galilee) and Yam HaMelakh (Dead Sea) have seen dramatic loss of water.  It goes without saying just how important water is to Israel and its neighbors. For more information about Israel’s environmental organizations check out the following website:  http://www.heschel.org.il (named for the late Rabbi Abraham J. Heschel, who, besides being a prolific author and professor at the Jewish Theological Seminary, was an advocate of social and political justice in the United States in the 1960’s).

B’shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Rabbi Art: Save Jun 8 for Shavuot!

Save the date for Shavuot!

“In every generation, each one of us is obligated to experience, on a personal level, the Exodus from Egypt.” This key verse from the Haggadah reminds us each year why we celebrate Pesakh. We were there!  We were slaves in Egypt!  We were witness to the redemption at the shores of the Sea of Reeds!  And we desire to pass on to the next generation our great story of Slavery and Liberation. 

However, according to our tradition, we didn’t stop at the shores of the Red Sea, we continued on to Sinai to receive the Torah.  And so, whether you observe Pesakh for 7 or 8 days we don’t stop there, we continue counting (the Omer) until we reach Shavuot, the fiftieth day after Pesakh. The Festival of Shavuot (this year it begins on Sunday evening, June 8th) traditionally celebrates agricultural spring harvest as well as the Giving of Torah, Matan Torah.  We, like Reform congregations throughout North America, also observe this day as the time for our 10th graders to celebrate the ceremony of Kabbalat Torah (Receiving the Torah).

Please add this very special date to your calendar. In fact, print this flyer out and stick it to the fridge. Now that we have celebrated our personal liberation from Egypt amidst the Jewish community, we can participate in receiving the Torah, “re-enacting the Sinai moment,” on Shavuot.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Monday, April 07, 2008

Rabbi Art: This week in the Torah 4/2

Weekly Torah Sedra – Tazria – Leviticus 12:1 – 13:59 “He shall be unclean as long as the disease is found within him, he shall be unclean.” - LEVITICUS 13:46

This week’s parashah, Tazria, focuses upon ritual/spiritual uncleanness connected to the physical ailment that may have been Leprosy. (There is much scholarly debate about whether it was really Leprosy.)

From a traditional, close reading of the Torah text, there seems to be a superfluous phrase here. Why is it necessary to repeat the phrase “he is unclean”? Of course, as long as one has a disease, that person is considered unclean, and must be isolated in order not to spread the disease.

Each year as we come this part of the Book of Leviticus we may struggle with finding something relevant for our modern sensibilities. One commentator 19th century rabbi may help us in our struggle. The NETZIV (Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin), Rosh Yeshiva of the famous Yeshiva of Volozhin in White Russia, 1817-1893. points out that one might assume that after the ceremony of ritual purification, one might be able to be considered pure, even though the disease is still present. No, he replies, of course not. As long as the disease is present, no ritual purification can help. It is primarily the disease that must be cured.

The NETZIV then applies this same principle to moral failures. Apologizing, repenting, and going through all the moral purification necessary is not enough, he argues, unless and until the failures are removed, and made up. Unless a person changes one’s character, and discontinues the mistake, it is useless to try to purify oneself through regret.  This interpretation may not be the p’shat, plain meaning of the text, however, it does allow us a chance to find meaning in an otherwise ancient and arcane ritual. As our sages taught, “turn it [Torah] over and over, for everything is it.”

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Rabbi Art: This week in the Torah 3/19

Leviticus 6:1 - 8:36 --- Parashat Tzav

God told Moses to command Aaron and his sons to take the ashes away from the altar where sacrifices were made for God every day. The ashes were to be put beside the altar. When the ash pile got too large, it should be taken to a ritually clean area outside the camp. “The priests were to make sure the fire on the altar never went out.” (Lev. 6:2)

The Torah tells us more about the sacrifices. The MINCHA, made of flour and spices, the HATAT, a sin offering, was sacrificed in the courtyard of the Sanctuary. The ASHAM, a guilt offering for accidents, was also sacrificed in the courtyard. The SHELAMIM, a peace or thanksgiving offering, could be eaten anywhere.

A wonderful and beautiful ceremony was held in the courtyard of the Sanctuary. Moses installed Aaron and his sons as priests, in front of all the people.

“The priests were to make sure the fire on the altar never went out.” Today, we the Jewish people are all “cohanim/priests” and so it is up to us to keep the fire of Judaism burning bright upon the altar. The ancient priests kept the fire aglow by removing the old ashes, we, in the Reform movement have done so and continue to do so by keeping our Judaism relevant and modern. 

Recently, our movement published a new siddur/prayerbook, “Mishkan T’fillah,” (Sanctuary of Prayer). Our Spiritual Enrichment Committee, under the direction of Vice President, Marcie Gerson, is awaiting copies for our congregation to evaluate.  Once these Siddurim arrive we will begin a very deliberate process of evaluation; experimenting with the new prayerbook on Shabbat mornings from time to time. If you are interesting in participating in this process please let Marcie or me know!

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Art Donsky

Monday, February 25, 2008

Rabbi Art: This week in the Torah 3/1/08

Weekly Parashah – Exodus Vayakhel 35:1 – 38:20
“Moses then assembled the whole Israelite community and said to them: These are the things which God has commanded you to do: On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a Sabbath of complete rest, holy to God; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death." Exodus 35:1-2

In this week’s sedra the Torah repeats God’s command forbidding work on the Sabbath (also, Exodus 31:12-14) just as the people were about to start constructing the Mishkan, the wilderness Tabernacle.  Why does the Torah spell out the punishment for violating this command with the death penalty?  How could the Torah compare “violating” Shabbat with “violating” the command “not to murder?” Is Shabbat that important in Jewish life?  Is it a matter of “life and death?”

In ancient Israelite society holiness in time was paramount; God “created” in time! Alongside the holiness of human life the sanctity of Shabbat, holiness in time, was supreme. Here is what Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, of blessed memory, taught,

“Our whole technical way of life and civilization is bent on conquering space and increasing the number of things we control. To enhance our power in the world of space is our main objective. Yet, to have more does not mean to be more. We must not forget that it is not a thing that lends significance to a moment. It is the moment that lends significance to things.
The most distinguished word in the Bible is kadosh, “holy,” a word which is more representative than any other of the mystery and majesty of the Divine. What was the first holy object in the history of the world? Was it a mountain? Was it an altar? No. The first holy thing in the world was a day, the seventh day. Holiness in time, the Sabbath, came first.
When history began, there was only one holiness in the world, holiness in time. When the people stood at Mount Sinai, God told them to be holy. The people couldn’t hold onto that idea for very long. They made a Golden Calf, an idol, and called that holy. They worshipped it. God had to then say to them, “Make Me a Sanctuary, make Me a place in space which is holy. You can worship Me from there. But, holiness in time, the Sabbath, comes first!”

Does holiness in time, Shabbat, come first for you, for your family?  Is Shabbat on your weekly radar?  Would you like to make Shabbat more important in your life? 

Join us this Friday, February 29 at 7:30 PM, when as part of our Kabbalat Shabbat service, I will share an outline of our Reform movement’s approach to “holiness in time.”

Hope to see you then,

Rabbi Art Donsky

PS A Final Jeopardy question:  When will Shabbat next coincide with Friday, February 29th – in what year?