Social Justice class heads South

Last semester, Meesh Hammer-Kossoy’s Social Justice class made a visit to Lakiya, a recognized Bedouin village, and Sderot, a city well known for its 12-year history as a target for projectile strikes from Gaza.

In Lakiya, we visited Sidreh-Lakiya Negev Weaving, a nonprofit that advocates for Bedouin women and their families by providing economic development and educational opportunities. A young Bedouin woman spoke to us about Bedouin life. I was impressed by her determination, intelligence and attachment to the land where she lives. I also heard her anger about policies of Israel towards Bedouins and Palestinians. We also had an opportunity to view and buy woven crafts from the weaving shop.

At the main police station in Sderot, we viewed a sobering collection of missiles that have fallen on the city. A representative of the Sderot Media Center arranged several encounters with local residents that gave us a sense of the psychological toll of living with daily danger. Last, we visited a small urban kibbutz and heard from a member who expressed discomfort with oppositional framing of the conflict between Israel and its Palestinian residents and neighbors, despite his family’s close calls with missiles. In Sderot, as in Lakiya, we heard the residents’ deep attachment to the ground on which they live.

Our class visits to Lakiya and Sderot help me understand the complexities of contemporary Israeli life. When I return to Montana, I can express a Zionism that is nuanced by an appreciation of many voices in Israeli society, a view informed by hearing personal accounts from many perspectives.

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Sderot, USA

On the Sunday of Chanukah, I went with the Social Justice class to Sderot. You really can’t appreciate what it’s like there until you experience it for yourself. For those who have only heard of Gaza, Sderot is a small working-class city in southern Israel in view of Gaza made up of mostly immigrants. For the past 12 years, it has been the recipient of literally 1,000′s of qassam rockets from Gaza. These incessant attacks were the primary motivating factors behind Operations Cast Lead and Pillar of Defense, which had just ended when we were there, meaning all was quiet for the time being (though according to the Sderot Media Center, Israel has received 19 rockets since the ceasefire was signed). Some of these rockets are kept on display outside the Sderot police station, so we were able to see some of them with our own eyes. Huge rusty bullets made of pipes and nails and power lines and other infrastructure for life Israel has invested in Gaza over the years so that Hamas can spit it back in its face as a tool of death.

Rockets that have fallen on Sderot

Fun Fact: Hamas‘ headquarters is in a bunker under an Israeli-built hospital.

When the siren goes off, Sderot residents have 15 seconds to seek shelter (by contrast, when the sirens went off in Jerusalem during Operation Pillar of Defense, we had a luxurious minute-and-a-half). Thankfully, shelter is not hard to come by in Sderot, since everything there, from bus stations to outdoor staircases, to strip malls, has a roof of reinforced concrete, and even those few areas that don’t have a roof of some sort have one at most a 50-yard-dash away. We saw a playground featuring a giant caterpillar play area that doubles as a bomb shelter.

When you hear about Sderot, it’s mostly as a talking-point, like then-Senator Obama’s statement during a visit there on the campaign trail in 2008 that, “Israelis must not suffer a threat to their lives, to their schools. If missiles were falling where my two daughters sleep, I would do everything in order to stop that.” But until you actually go there, it’s hard to remember that non-hypothetical, real-life daughters and sons really live there, people just like everyone else: The kind couple that run the Moroccan restaurant we ate at. The family that doesn’t use the top floor of their home since from there it takes too long to run to the shelter. All the stories of parents who have to decide which child they will grab and take to the bomb shelter in the 15 seconds they have and which they will leave behind. The mother keeping an eye on her children playing in the bomb shelter caterpillar while speaking with another mother doing the same, as we walked between them taking pictures, slack-jawed at their courage for not only living, but reproducing here, as though they had any other choice. This trip taught me that Sderot has cats in its dumpsters and Shufersals in its shopping centers just like every other city in Israel, and when the city’s denizens aren’t running for their lives, they too wince at the former on their way to the latter. It never ceases to amaze me what can become the status quo.

Less than a week later, the tragedy at Newtown happened and I learned that safety is all relative. Continue reading

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Catching Up

From my blog:

rjIt’s been a long, dry spell in this blog, its onset corresponding somewhat ironically with the start of Jerusalem’s rainy season. The rainy season began with a clap of thunder and a few minutes of soft rain. I heard the thunder and didn’t quite believe it. Ran out to the merpeset (balcony) and felt the rain on my face! Everywhere around me, on other balconies, at open windows, and in the street, people stopped, marveled, and smiled! Here’s the rain, a necessary arrival after Israel’s dry, hot summer.

The new rain closely followed the start of the fall semester at Pardes Institute, where I am studying. Since then, Continue reading

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Finland Song

From issues like homelessness to workers’ rights, social justice has been an interest of mine for several years. A few years ago, I wrote a song which addresses related issues as well as the idea that one country could be a place where “social justice for all” was a reality. Currently I study in the “Jewish Social Justice” track at Pardes.

Click here to listen

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My Dvar Torah from the Shabbaton

Jerusalem

“Atem Nitzavim Hayom Kulchem.” You stand this day, all of you. All of us are standing together today in Jerusalem. From small towns, larger cities, from North America and from Europe. Having grown up in different Jewish denominations, or unaffiliated, whether Ashkenazic or Sephardic, Reform or Orthodox,We have come here together, to this unique country and city, to learn more deeply our Jewish stories, laws, and traditions. Just like the Jewish people in Parashat Nitzavim, who Moshe speaks to before they cross into the land of Israel. We are here, together.

This is no small feat. Think back to the year before you arrived in Israel. You may have visited before, but probably not more than a few weeks. What makes this year different? Grocery shopping, paying bills, and basically dealing with day-to-day tasks that distinguishes being a visitor from living in a place. It is my personal belief that home is where the laundry is. And so welcome to your first major adjustment: learning to hang laundry on a line to dry instead of using a dryer. Welcome to South Jerusalem: more cats than you can count, and certainly more English than you expected.

Perhaps also, more learning than you expected and in different ways than you were prepared for. Learning sometimes for 12 or more hours in the classrooms and the Beit Midrash. It might be difficult to carve out a good time to actually do those day to day tasks that mean you live here. Who knew there was so much to learn? “The more I learn, the less I know,” a wise person once said. So please, learn. But don’t forget where you are. You can learn from books anywhere in the world. But you are learning in Israel. I may not be officially in an “experiential education” program, but I am an advocate of learning from experience.

In our Social Justice class, we went on a tiyul to the shuk where we were encouraged to talk to shopkeepers and hear their personal stories.  Despite language difficulties, many were open to sharing with us. This experience is an example of bringing life into our learning- face to face conversation and interaction- something that can’t truly be done from afar, not even by Skype (though it can help).

We are primarily living in a garden called Pardes. As someone who has chosen to stay in the garden for an entire year, I can attest to the value of the garden. But I also had nearly 3 months of non-Pardesian time in Jerusalem this summer. It was a little scary at first! Gradually I met people- both native and non-native Israelis- who became my friends. By starting my own tutoring business, I met a cross-section of Israeli society, By going to different social events, I stepped outside my comfort zone and grew so much. It feels good to return to this Garden, all the more so now.

Parashat Nitzavim contains a well known quote: “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life!”  You have all chosen to experience life in Israel for the year (or maybe a couple years or more). So I give you my blessing to get out there and experience it! And then, to talk about it, write about it; share your stories, whether on the blog or elsewhere.

M. Oliver

Since I am known as the Poet Poet-In-Residence (see my other blog posts), I would like to paraphrase a poem by Mary Oliver. In her poem “The Summer Day” she asks, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life?”

So I ask you on the eve-before-the-eve of Rosh HaShana: Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious year?

Shana Tovah LeKulam!

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[Alumni Post] Just Send Me Back To Pardes

by Andrew Lustig, Year Program 5772

Just send me back to Pardes. Please, please, please. I promise I’ll learn at Night Sedar every week. And I won’t take a lot of bathroom breaks. And I wont distract my friends. And I wont use conversations with Robby and Donna and Joanne as clever ways to get out the Beit Midrash. And I promise I’ll put a Shekel in the jar every time I get a cup of tea. And I wont keep tallies of how much I owe in my head. And I’ll wash my cup. And I won’t keep the water running because God knows Israel needs its water. I promise I promise. I promise I’ll davin Mincha every afternoon. Even on community lunch days when I’d rather be staking out a good seat… or a good block of seats. And even if I do cordon off an entire table for my friends I promise I won’t move all the hummus and all the pita there. And even if I do I promise I’ll wait until Egal is done before I eat. And while I wait, I promise I wont loudly blame Egal for taking to long. And even if I do I promise that when they do finish I won’t loudly yell “Oh, Egal’s done. Now we can eat!” I promise I will show up on time every day. And by on time I don’t mean on time for class. I mean on time for Shachrit. And I when I am late I wont pretend it was because I had to make a minyon at the imaginary synagogue on my block. And when I am late I won’t take any cereal. Not even a little bit. And I won’t even do that thing where I ask someone who’s done eating to take more so that I can eat from their bowl. I promise. I promise. Please just let me come back to Pardes. If you do I promise to RSVP for things. And on time too. And not just for the free pizza. But I also promise that if you have more pizza ill RSVP for more things. Ugh. If I could just come back to Pardes…
I’d buy a box of Bourekas every morning and immediately put them on the Hefkr table. I’d bring my own mug and just leave it there. And never claim it as mine. So that every day someone who didn’t have time to get coffee could have a nice big mug and they’d get their Shekel worth. If I could just come back to Pardes I would let all the first years know exactly how to finagle Arnona and exactly how to get a visa and exactly how to find an apartment so that Donna and Joanne didn’t have to. And I would give money to Robby every day. Literally piles and piles of money. I’d just hand him stacks every time I saw him. Like seriously. I’d buy a funnel and just rain Shekles on him. Until he was buried in Shekles. Like I’d just wind up and whip handfuls of 10NIS pieces at his door every time I passed. And every now and again I’d attach a note to one of the bills that said, “Please, please, please let me come back to Pardes. Where everybody gives so, so much. And where I’ve been treated so, so kindly and fairly. Please, please, please let me come back to the place where Judaism came alive to me. Where I figured out that being Jewish and being progressive aren’t mutually exclusive. Where I realized that I don’t have to choose between the spiritual practice that I so strongly desire and the tradition that I feel so comfortable with. That I don’t have to go to India to be mindful. Or San Francisco to do social justice work. That I can take ownership over Judaism. And even though I’m still not exactly sure what Pardes is an acronym for I am sure that it’s a really smart concept that made sense to me when someone explained it to me and that it’s the name of one of the levels of the parking garage at Ben Gurion airport and that when I got off the plane at Ben Gurion for the first time and saw the word Pardes in my face I knew that I was in the right place… so please, please, please… let me come back. To Pardes
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Lost in the Rhythm

 
I came to Israel – to the Pardes Institute for Jewish Studies – 10 months ago, so that I could study and become familiar with Jewish text. I wanted very much to live a ‘Jewish life.’ I just didn’t know what that entailed or meant.
 
Judaism, for me, has been like a dance. It wasn’t so much fun when I didn’t know the steps. There was very little spiritual fulfillment. It was frustrating and confusing.
 
But as I started to learn the steps I started to lose myself in the rhythm. The movements took on meaning. And that has led to very special experiences and insights. 
 
Part of this learning process is and has been happening through Torah study, in many of its very different permutations, at Pardes.  
 
Chumash class, of course. Talmud, of course. But there’s also Self, Soul, and Text. And Modern Jewish Thought. And Jewish Meditation. And the Social Justice track. The Peace and Conflict class. 
 
The other part of this discovery is happening through thinking hard and honestly about Continue reading
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Photos from Shilo Trip

Last semester, I visited Shilo with the Pardes Social Justice Track. It was so cool! Its funny but we just don’t think of that as being the first holy site, or at least I don’t. The mishkan was there nearly 400 years! Click on the photos to enlarge them:

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Week 18: True Piety

After getting over Hevron, the subject on everyone’s minds and lips all last week was the craziness in Beit Shemesh. I was going to write this blog post with a lot of complaints about how more people aren’t speaking out against this behavior, but since I could have attended the protest and did not, perhaps I don’t have the right to get on others for not speaking out, maybe I’m just as bad. There are few things worse than being a hypocrite, after all.

But it turned out to be a blessing in disguise that I didn’t go, since I now realize I had it all wrong before. My epiphany came Sunday morning when I stood at Pardes and read about the protests the night before in the holy Jerusalem neighborhood of Mea Shearim where the residents dressed themselves and their children up as Holocaust victims to draw attention to and take a bold stand against the increasing senseless animosity displayed against them, their holy brothers in Beit Shemesh, and their Authentically Torah-True® way of life by the hands the evil Zionist majority of Israel Eretz Yisroel. One quote in particular, by American yeshiva student Salomon Hoberman, hit me like a lightening bolt through the brain, changing my life forever: ‘“It’s like how it started with the Nazis – very slowly,” [he said] defending the use of the yellow stars. “They’re separating us from the Jewish people because we’re following the way of the Torah. They hate us because we’re going the Jewish way.

And there’s only one Jewish way.”’

Reading this line as I did while standing in the halls of Pardes, made its truth, its emes, even more obvious. I realized right then and there that the only reason I—with my Western miseducation and the false anti-Torah values it emphasizes—used to think that tact, respect, and decency were part of Judaism is because what I was learning was not Judaism, but something else. In that moment it further became clear how I was wasting my time at the Pardes Institute of Jewish Shondes learning different opinions and calling all of them Judaism even when they so obviously contradict each other when I could instead just cut through all the touchy-feely nonsense and study Authentic Torah at a real yeshiva from real Jews like the type Reb Hoberman learns from and get the correct Torah-True® answer on every issue every time. I’m ashamed of myself now for having spent so much time practicing and learning a false religion, but what else besides touchy-feely nonsense should I have expected from a yeshiva that allows and even (G-d have mercy on us) hires w—-n (you know what I mean. As a “healthy” man like the one in the video linked to above, I don’t even want to write that word! An arrow in your eye, Satan!) No wonder the real Jews make sure they are kept far out of sight—by force if necessary—while studying holy true words of Torah, which of course we, as the last remaining guardians of the true Torah, do all day every day. Thinking Torah has anything to do with personality and feelings, G-d forgive me, what was I thinking?!

I’m embarrassed to report, however, that I didn’t at that moment pack all my bags and run from a place of idolatry to a place of Torah as the Sages command to us do. No, in my weakness, I stayed the rest of the week, but, as Jews say, gam zu l’tova, though something seems “bad” on the outside, this too, is ultimately for the good, since it made me see just how heretical and how anti-Torah Pardes really is. Take the so-called siyum I attended in the “Social Justice” class Tuesday afternoon. It was an outrage! Even worse than their false assumption that Torah and social justice even have anything to do with each other, was their chutzpadik assumption that social justice gives you license to hate the Torah—they went around and spoke about how they think they know better than the Torah and the Sages when it comes to such issues as minority rights, workers’ rights, w—-n’s roles in Judaism, Jewish obligations to the poor, homosexuals the toeva community, and environmental issues. They did this by reviewing texts showing the multiplicity of views in the Jewish Tradition about these issues and spoke of the importance of maintaining an honest dialogue with all the texts, those you are proud of and those you are not, to carry the Jewish tradition of wrestling with these issues into the future. They then blessed each other that they may continue to be Jewishly empowered to treat all people as being made in the Divine Image to continue to live as agents of G-dly change in the world.

I know, I wanted to barf (on them) too. I don’t mean to say there aren’t any pressing social issues facing the Yidden, of course there are lots of them—the un-male gender getting too much education, the un-male gender dressing immodestly, public busses not being gender-segregated, and anti-Semitic persecution by the Zionist regime, and of course these fakers utterly ignored them to waste their time instead on gays and goys! I wanted to scream “Judaism isn’t complicated, stop wasting your time on sinners and gentiles and just do things the one correct Authentic Torah-True® way! If a text seems to contradict that, it’s obviously just because you don’t understand the Tradition properly and you need to find a rebbe who will be willing to reeducate you.” I pity them.

But wait, it gets worse. Wednesday night, Dr. James Kugel came to Pardes to give the first of four lectures in a series called “Has Modern Biblical Scholarship Killed the Bible?” The answer is that maybe for him it has, since as far as I could tell, killing Judaism was his main goal. May your ears be spared the blasphemous lies he spun for the feeble-faithed wannabe Jews about supposed “Biblical authors” that aren’t God, and how, he claims, Jewish texts has always been shaped by the time, place and popular beliefs of the people who created him. Worse, he said it all while wearing a black kippa, apparently in an attempt to make the audience think he was an Authentically Torah-True® Jew like us and so represented real Judaism. The audience must have bought into it—after all, how can you judge someone if not by their appearance?— since while he was spewing his Torah-hating nonsense, they all just sat there and listened, then, afterwards, they respectfully asked questions. No one spat on him, beat him up, burned his house down, or took some other bold action for the sake of our holy Torah like a real G-d fearing Yid would have done. But I comfort myself with the knowledge that they are not real Jews and none of them will have any share in the World to Come. Yes, Rabbi Tarfon says in the Torah, “I doubt if there is anyone in this generation who is fit to rebuke others,” but he couldn’t have imagined Jews so holy as Reb Hoberman and his rebbes.

The whole thing just makes me sick. Thank God, I finally merited to go to the holy neighborhood of Mea Shearim for the first time Thursday.

***

I probably made history Thursday as the first person ever to wear a Point Park University hoodie in Mea Shearim. I went to volunteer with Ezrat Avot, a wonderful Israeli meals-on-wheels organization located in the neighborhood after my usual volunteer project was canceled and none of the normal volunteers were able to make it. My first image of the neighborhood was of a group of Chasidic men walking through Kikar Shabbat where the Holocaust protest was five days earlier wearing brown burlap sacks over their kaputas for reasons I hope I never find out. Once we got to Ezrat Avot, my fellow pinch-volunteer and I were greeted by an extremely nice and cheerful woman and a small group of friendly American yeshiva students who were just finishing making a sugar-free carrot kugel. After the yeshiva boys left, the woman and another man helped us and another volunteer fill around 60 bags of food for Israel’s elderly. It was a great experience and I would go back in a heartbeat. While I don’t know about the man, neither the yeshiva students nor the woman actually lived in Mea Shearim.

Quote of the Week: “If we walk out on [Judaism] now, it means those values win.” – Mira

Hebrew Word of the Week: אפיקורוס (“apikorus”) – Heretic (lit. a Hebraization of “Epicurius,” or one who sees the world only on the external level.)

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Social Justice – Universalism and Humanism

Here is a dvar tzedek I wrote and gave to my Social Justice class today on our last day of class:

 

Shalom classmates. I am here before you today to share with you my views on humanism and universalism, two topics which have been prominent in my way of thinking for many years, at least since I began really thinking for myself in college. I feel a bit like I imagine Levi Lauer did when he spoke to us not too long ago, because this is a topic that is near and dear to my heart and I acknowledge that I will be held accountable for everything I say here today. With that said, I will move on.

What does it mean to love another human being? What does it mean to love yourself? And most of all, what does it mean when Rabbi Akiva says it is a major principle of the Torah that “you shall love your neighbor as yourself”? To answer these questions, let’s first look at what humanism and universalism is.

Dictionary.com defines humanism as any system or mode of thought or action in which human interests, values and dignity predominate. It defines universalism as the doctrine that emphasizes the universal fatherhood of G-d and the final salvation of all souls. It is also important to note that in philosophy, humanism is an ethical theory that often rejects the importance of a belief in G-d and puts the emphasis on human fulfillment in the natural world through scientific inquiry and reason.

So now that we know what they mean, we are left to ask ourselves: How do these two concepts fit into loving one another as we do ourselves? The answer to this question can be found in the book Pahad Yitzhak, written by Rav Yitzhak Hutner. In his section on the festival of Shavuot he writes that “the basic fact upon which everything is established is that ‘the person was created as an individual’.” He goes on to write that “from this foundational fact emerges two alternative voices,” the first of which declares that “all of us are the children of a single father, [and] our family tree can be traced to a single human being.”

What Hutner means by way of this first voice is that “each of us are nothing more than pieces of a single wholeness… [which] is a faithful source of the unity of humankind.” By his very own words, humanity is unified by way of a single Father, who in my estimation has imbued characteristics upon us that we all share. This is universalism at its core.

Hutner then goes on to describe the second voice that emerges from this foundational fact of who we are, which declares: “The nature of the father is in the child.” He further explains that “since the head of our family tree is a single human being, as a matter of course each one of us is imprinted with an aspect of the uniqueness of our origin.” What I take this to mean is that our humanity is emphasized through the very natural fact that we come from a specific someone who imbues us with their own attributes, in addition to our ancestral Father. This emphasizes our individuality because each of us have our own parents who we originate from, gain our values from, and even pick up characteristics, qualities and ethics from. This in a nutshell is the essence of humanism.

So now our question is: How do we reconcile and combine these two seemingly disparate worldviews, and again, where does loving one another as we do ourselves come into play? Well, I would argue that we love one another dafka (precisely) for and because of our differences. It is our differences that make us the unique individuals that we are, so in acceptance of this fact what’s not to love? We are all unique, that is G-d’s blessing to us! I firmly believe it is our imperative to celebrate these differences and, by way of visual metaphor, see them all as freckles on the face of G-d. Because that’s what they are! Not only do they indicate our individuality, but they express our common humanity as one People with a single Father.

This is what Rabbi Akiva means when he says you shall love your neighbor as yourself. You’re all unique, but that’s great! That’s exactly why you can love your neighbor as yourself! This brings me to one last point, which I believe is the most important point of all and one that I constantly reflect on. Loving your neighbor as yourself implies that you love yourself first, and sometimes this can be the hardest task to accomplish. It requires seeing yourself not only as a unique individual with your own history, traits and flaws… but also as a child of G-d, of a single Father. He loves you no matter how many times you screw up, all he is waiting for is your teshuva. This fact is what gives me hope. Hope for myself, and hope for humanity. May we all have the strength to return to our Father in love, and by way of this return love others as well. Thank you.

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