2nd annual Jerusalem Symposium in memory of Avi Schaefer – “The Z-Word: Re-Imagining Zionism – Is Zionism Relevant in our Times? Why be a Zionist Today?”

Last Sunday I went to a remarkable conference on Zionism.   We were still taking the required week of post-India malaria pills, but  this conference reminded me that I was back in the Jewish State.  And it was an inspiring, up-lifting way to re-enter.

Because I have taken a class this year at the Conservative Yeshiva, I was invited to attend this conference on Re-imagining Zionism.  Though I don’t usually attend Israel events that look like they may be political – they have become too painful for me on many levels – something about this called out to me.  I heard from a friend who was also attending and we walked together in the dumping rain to Hadassah College on Nevi’im Street, which is about a 15 minute walk from my house.  By the time we arrived, we were soaked to the bone.  The rain was so unrelenting that we wondered if anybody else would show up.

The auditorium was packed with young, post-college North American young people who were in Israel on various programs and who would be returning to their homes at the end of the year.  Turns out that Avi Schaefer was the son of people I went to the Library Minyan with back in my Los Angeles days, Rabbi Arthur and Laurie Gross-Schaefer. 

Avi Gross-Schaefer z"l

Avi and his twin brother Yoav moved to Israel at age 18 and served together in the Israeli army.  Avi was accepted into a Special Forces combat unit, and later served as a counter-terrorism instructor for Israel’s most elite units.  He was accepted to Brown University and in the summer of 2009 he went to Brown to get a degree in International Relations and Middle East Studies. 

In his bio it states that “Avi was committed to the pursuit of peace in the Middle East and actively sought to change the atmosphere towards the Israeli-Palestinian conflict on campus.”  He became a leader “in advocating for Israel, while simultaneously reaching out a hand for peace and reconciliation.  He saw no contradiction in fighting for Israel’s security and building peace…Avi engaged in dialogue and understanding between Israelis and Palestinians.”  Based on what I heard about Avi, I imagine that he created tables where people could safely sit together to talk and to listen.  This type of true dialogue is very unusual on campuses these days.  I’m sorry to say that, in my experience, it is unusual in the adult Jewish community as well.

Tragically, he was killed by a drunk driver in February of his freshman year. I was very moved when I read about the fund created in his honor:  “The Avi Schaefer fund is dedicated to changing the climate of Israeli-Palestinian discussion on North American college campuses.  The ASF believes there is no contradiction between supporting Israel and the pursuit of honest conversation and peace.  The ASF will develop venues in which students with divergent views can respectfully engage and listen to each other’s narratives, fostering the understanding of each other’s humanity.”

What did this look like at the seminar?  I will tell you that it looked very different from most “Pro-Israel” events that I have attended over the years.  I know I’m treading into emotional and potentially dangerous waters when I write about this.  Those of you who know me know that I tend to keep a very low profile when it comes to Israel and politics.  I have no problem teaching a love of Israel and I am proud of the fact that my students love Israel and know that I love Israel.  I also am proud of the fact that they leave my classroom and understand that Israel is a complicated place with complicated problems.  I do not engage in “hasbarah” (explaining Israel’s “side”) but rather in understanding that Israel faces many challenges that have no easy answers.

Conversation with Yossi Klein Halevi, Dr. Tal Becker and Dr. MK Einat Wilf, moderated by Michael Dickson

The speakers at this conference helped me find language for much of what I have been thinking about regarding Israel over the past few years, and especially over the last few months.  Let me share some of the comments.

Nadav Tamir returned to Israel last summer after serving 4 years as the Consul General of Israel to New England in Boston.  He spoke of working with Avi on the Brown campus.  Brown is a difficult campus because, as on many campuses, there is a strong anti-Israel presence.  Nadav spoke of Avi’s ability to deal with this issue in productive ways.  “It took me an entire career to understand what Avi understood intuitively,” he told us.  “Avi understood that the old paradigm of hasbara (explaining “Israel’s side”) no longer works.  Talking points and answers don’t get us anywhere.  It is not about winning the debate,” he told the group.  “It is about winning hearts and minds.   And you don’t win hearts and minds by explaining.  You win hearts and minds by being in dialogue.”  Israel advocacy is not a “zero-sum” endeavor, he explained.

Dr. Tal Becker is a fellow at the Hartman Institute and from 2006-2009 a senior policy advisor to Israel’s Minister of Foreign Affairs.  He was a lead negotiator in Israeli-Palestinian negotiations during the Annapolis peace process.  We have a state, he said, but it seems as if “we’ve defined Israel as a place where we could concentrate Jewish anxiety in one place…People say we earned the right to be normal, but that is not enough.”  He quoted Anatoly Sharansky:  You can’t take the chosen people, put them in the Promised Land and then ask them to be normal!

“A country is as great as its next aspiration.  We need to articulate our next aspiration, not just look backwards…We have a state, and now we need to focus on the content of that state.  We have sovereign state, but not a sovereign state of mind.” 

He said that when he goes to American Jewish gatherings on Israel he feels like he is going to a restaurant that provides a menu of the greatest existential threats to Israel.  Take your pick:  Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, de-legitimization, etc.  He said he would add one more item to the list of greatest existential threats to Israel:  The excessive worry about existential threats.  It isn’t that there aren’t existential threats.  It is the fact that this is all we can talk about that is the problem.

Dr. Einat Wilf is a member of Israel’s Knesset and Chair of the “Independence” faction.  She explained that Judaism as a system of morality was limited in scope without sovereignty.  Now, with sovereignty, there are, by definition, bigger moral dilemmas and this should create a revolution in Jewish life.  The brilliance of Jewish moral thinking is that it has always engaged in life through rules (halachah) and not disengaged from life, as many other systems.  (Asceticism is not a Jewish response to problems.)  We are obligated to face the real, messy dilemmas of sovereignty in meaningful ways as political decisions are made.  Decisions aren’t just political decisions.  They are also moral decisions. 

Regarding the obsession with existential threats to Israel, she agreed with the other speakers that, of course there are existential threats and that they need to be addressed, but she agreed that it should not be at the expense of asking other questions.  

She referred to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs to explain:  Food is a basic need and to survive one must start with acquiring food.  Once you have food, you don’t stop eating.  But, hopefully, at some point, you can do more than eat.  Eating isn’t all that you do in a meaningful life.  Israel conversations should be about more than eating, i.e. existential physical threats. 

Yossi Klein Halevi is a fellow at the Hartman Institute and a contributing editor to the New Republic.  He told us that when he meets with right-wing pro-Israel groups in America it feels like they don’t know that the first intifada happened, and when he meets with left-wing pro-Israel groups in America it feels like they don’t know that the second intifada happened.  Both “sides” ignore important aspects of Israel’s current reality.

There was much more, of course and I didn’t agree with everything that was said.  And that is just fine.  I don’t have to agree.  We won’t all agree. 

But can we stop accusing each other of not loving Israel if we think differently?  

And are there times and places where we, as a community, can move beyond “talking points?”  Can we expand the acceptable list of conversation topics?

For example, can we talk about the question of expanding the settlements without immediately being stopped with, “but that isn’t what is preventing peace.  What prevents peace is that the Arabs don’t want us to exist.”  Fine.  But the question of the settlements is still a legitimate question to discuss because we care about the character of the Jewish state that we are building.  Not because of the Arabs.  Because we care about our own moral character. 

I believe that the moral character of the state is itself an existential question.  It should be added to the list of existential threats. 

I want to acknowledge that different Jews will have different opinions on this topic, all coming to the question from a “what is Zionism today” perspective.  And people on both the left and the right need to acknowledge that the other side has people with values and morals who are doing what they believe is best for the country.  But we never get to that conversation, in large part (though not only) because in the “official” public Jewish community my experience is that these questions are halted with “that isn’t what is preventing peace.” 

If we could honestly and openly engage in these conversations we would see that there is a significant philosophical difference between those who want to expand settlements for messianic/religious reasons and those who want to expand them for security reasons.  And we would probably also find a difference between those who want to stop and even dismantle the settlements for religious/moral reasons and those who think that it is the key to a peace agreement. And we would also find that not everybody agrees on what the term “settlement” includes.  There are many nuances to this conversation.

It isn’t “us” versus “them.”  Each “side” has many components.  What would happen if we actually discussed those components?  Might we be able to sort out some common ground?  Might we, at a minimum, be able to stop speaking so dismissively and derisively about those with whom we disagree?  Might we actually learn something? 

We also need to discuss honestly the issues around the status of minority citizens and the status of women and what role religion should play in this country.  These are also topics that are much more nuanced than the sound-bites would indicate.  Those conversations need to happen because we care about Israel. Because how those questions are answered does impact the quality of the existence of the state, which, over time also impacts the very existence of the State.   

We can disagree on the answers, but also maybe we can learn to respect each other.  The lack of true respect is, in my opinion, a serious existential threat to Israel and, I would add, to the entire Jewish people.

From the safety of 10,000 miles away, I admit that I don’t feel safe entering Israel conversations in Jewish public settings in America because we so easily dismiss and sometimes even demonize each other.  And if I don’t feel safe, you can only imagine how a large number of our young people who are only tangentially tied to the Jewish community or to Israel are feeling.

Young people doing amazing work in Israel talk about how they implement their Zionist dreams by working to improve Israeli society

I want to state clearly that the physical existential threats to Israel are real.  I know and acknowledge that.  But I believe that there is more to Israel than the physical existential threats.  If we want our young people and even the non-Jewish public to understand and appreciate and care about Israel, those other issues need to be addressed honestly and respectfully.

I come back to Nadiv Tamir’s words and the model of Avi Schaefer’s life:  Israel advocacy is not a “zero-sum” endeavor.  It is, rather, about winning hearts and minds.  And that doesn’t happen by “explaining.”  It can only happen through true dialogue.  And dialogue means both talking and real listening.

Avi Gross-Schaefer z"l

I didn’t meet Avi Schaefer, z”l.  But he brought people together in his lifetime and now, in his memory, these meetings continue and are growing.  It was inspiring to be in a packed room of 300-400 young people, all committed to Israel, and all willing to sit and listen and learn from each other.  To talk about more than who is right and who is wrong.  To move beyond who is “in” and who is “out” of the “pro-Israel” community.  There is a lot to learn from this approach. Zichorno Livracha.  Avi’s memory is most certainly a blessing.

Return from India

We recently returned from 3 weeks in India where the daily papers didn’t mention Israel even once.  Most people we met knew almost nothing about Jews or about Israel.  Approximately 1.2 billion people live in India.  There are about 13 million Jews in the entire world.  We Jews tend to think the world revolves around us, but the truth is that just about everybody thinks the world revolves around them.  Not surprisingly, the Indian newspapers focused on issues that impact people in India, issues that are completely foreign to us.  It was, on a certain level, liberating to be in a culture that wasn’t interested in the issues that keep me awake at night.

Eating “veg food” with fingers off of a banana leaf in Kanyakumari

There is a lot more to say about India, but, for now, I want to turn to our re-entry to Israel.  We returned on a Thursday.  Naomi and a friend were in Jerusalem so we made dinner for them Thursday night.  Our friend, Mitch, from Seattle, was visiting his son, Elie.  They came for dinner Friday night.  We joke that we have more Seattle folks at our table here in Jerusalem than we do when we’re in Seattle!  It was great to see them.  Shabbat lunch was with old college friends who have been in Jerusalem for years. 

Then, on Sunday, I attended a remarkable seminar on re-imagining Zionism.  I will write more about that in my next post.  It is my intent to return to the topic of India at a later time.  There is so much to say and I haven’t sorted it out yet. 

I can tell you that Jerusalem seems clean, orderly and quiet after India.  And the drivers here are so polite!  Stay tuned for more on India at a later time.

There are many ways to worship – part 2

Today we were in another temple.  This time our guide was a religious (duh) Hindu woman.  Mrs. M. is a part-time teacher and part-time tour guide.  She has two children.  Her son is 20 and her daughter is a bit younger.  She was full of enthusiasm, spunk and stories.  I bet her students don’t mess with her. 

We entered the temple and, like yesterday, it was full of people.  It was a temple of Shiva.  The second largest temple in India.  (Yesterday was the largest.) People on pilgrimage were everywhere, as were local people.  The joy was in the air once again.  Hindu temples are joyous places.  Music, chanting, smells, colors, ringing bells, and a sense of deep excitement filled every corner of the building. 

How awesome is this place, I thought once again.  But this was only the beginning.

We then stood next to a wall that was covered with writing.  It was one of the epic Hindu stories.  Mrs. M. offered to sing part of it for us.  And before we could respond she closed her eyes and began to chant.  Her already beautiful face softened even more.  Of course, she knows this epic by heart.   And the chanting music that goes with it.  She sang for a few minutes. 

David’s mouth dropped open.  The lump of emotion in my throat filled my heart with wonder and my eyes with tears.  With chaos all around us she sang.  Beautifully.  There was only calm and peace in our small spot in this immense noisy temple.

David and I looked at each other.  Were we back in Whitwell, Tennessee?  Not exactly the beginning of the book of Numbers, but the same magic none-the-less. (See my earlier entry on Rosh Hashanah in Whitwell.)

She concluded her song and looked at us for a reaction.  What could we say? 
“Why do you sing instead of just read it?” David asked, with a knowing look at me.

“The music helps tell the story,” was her reply as she pointed to her heart, indicating that it also helps explain the emotions in the story and in her heart as she prays.  And, of course,  it helps with memory.  She then sang part of an epic story of a different god to show that the music changes to reflect the different qualities of the gods.

I told her that we Jews chant our holy book as well.  And that our music also helps tell the story. We agreed that the music changes everything.  That our hearts are more full when we chant than when we simply read.  We didn’t use the word “spiritual.”  But it was implied.

Later I told her that people say that Indian people are happy people, even when times are difficult.  I asked her if she thought this was true.

“Yes,” she replied.  “Even if things are difficult, Indian people never forget to smile.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because they understand that hard times are part of life.  That’s just how life is. Life is like the playground.  You fall down.  You get up.  That’s life.”  She stated this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

No matter how hard life is, never forget to smile.  There is something profound to be learned from that seemingly simple but deeply spiritual habit.

And much also to be learned from the chanting of epic Hindu stories.

And from the joy that one feels upon entering a Hindu temple. 

And from the by now obvious fact that there is more than one way to worship.

God Was In This Place

Two Jewish tourists and a Muslim tour guide walk barefoot into the largest Vishnu Hindu temple in India.

This isn’t a joke.  Quite the opposite.

More details: They are in Trichy, Tamil Nadu in Southern India.  It is pilgrimage month for the Hindus, so the temple is packed with people coming to pray and to celebrate.  There is an internal peace that permeates the air, along with the smells of incense and special food that has been prepared by the priests for the festival.  Not to mention smells of the picnic meals brought by the pilgrims.  And of burning candles.

Is this really happening?  Are David and I the Jewish tourists with our Muslim guide?  To what heavenly world have I been transported?

I imagine that the festive, joyous atmosphere we experienced tonight was not much different than what was experienced at our ancient Temple during the three pilgrimage festivals.  Tonight we witnessed offerings and prayer with great devotion that were followed by meals and visiting and communal activities.  The streets outside the Hindu temple were full of people walking and purchasing items needed inside as well as basic necessities.  Was the joyous spiritual and communal experience of visiting our Temple in Jerusalem that much different?

I must admit that it feels trite to say that this entire trip has been overwhelming, and I wish I was a better writer so that I could fully describe even just this day.  But the experience of being in the Sri Ranganathaswany Temple this evening with thousands of Hindu pilgrims all dressed in bright colors as they were praying, eating, visiting, relaxing, and enjoying the lovely evening, all the while listening to our Muslim guide speak with great respect and knowledge about what was happening around us, was an experience that left me unable to speak because of the great emotion that it evoked.

Mr. Munshi was our first Muslim guide.  Until now we’ve had only Hindu guides.  He started our time together by telling us that he is a Muslim. He explained that he believes that all religions teach basically the same thing.  That the problems between people of different religions are caused by politicians who exploit differences for their own political gains. And by people who misuse their religions for political purposes. That the key to every religion is to be a good, kind person.  Hard to argue with that.  Isn’t that exactly what our Hindu guides have been saying?  And what I try to teach every day in my own classroom?

The temple visit came at the end of a remarkable day.  I’ll save the details for another time.  But I tell this one story because this one brief experience captures so much.

We have visited many temples here.  As someone interested in religion, I have been in many remarkable and diverse places of worship.  And though this particular temple is physically magnificent, that is not what I will remember about this evening.

I will remember the people praying with great sincerity.  I will remember the families sitting together on the grounds of the temple eating and laughing and enjoying the evening.  I will remember our kind Muslim guide, Mr. Munshi.  I will remember that it is possible for the divine presence to be among us when we realize how much we all share rather than the details that so easily separate us.

This is a complicated country.  People have killed each other here over religion and culture just like everyplace else in the world.  There are big problems here that can’t be covered up by starry-eyed Western naiveté.

But today I felt hope.  I felt tonight that God was in this place.  And, unlike our ancestor Jacob, I knew it without the experience of a dream to reveal it to me.  But I am thankful to Jacob.  He provided much-needed language for this moment of Divine Presence.  How awesome is this place, I thought while in that temple.  It is none other than the gate to Heaven itself.

Small World

We haven’t heard any Hebrew in India.  We have seen almost no American tourists. In Southern India we’ve seen none. Most tourists are other Indians. There are some Europeans.  It isn’t unusual for us to be the only white people and for sure the only Americans when visiting tourist attractions or walking the streets.

Yesterday we heard an American accent as a woman came near us to take a picture. Our guide heard her and asked her where she was from.

Her: United States

Me: We’re also from the US. Where are you from in the US?

Her: (with a smile, figuring we’d be from far from her home) Washington (I now expect her to say DC and she says) State

Me: (with disbelief) We’re also from Washington State.

Her: (with equal disbelief) Where in Washington State?

Me: Seattle

Her: (with a smile showing that she expected that answer) Well, I’m from the east side of the state.

Me: I grew up in Spokane.

Her: I live in Spokane!

Me: Do you know Huppin’s store downtown on Main?

Her: Of course.

Me: I’m a Huppin.

GET OUT OF HERE!! We’re both getting kind of excited. Neither of us come to Pondicherry India expecting to run into someone from Spokane. of all places. Heck, we don’t go anywhere in the world or even in the States and expect to find someone from Spokane.  We’re happy if people have even heard of it.

Her: What high school did you go to?

Me: Ferris

Her: (with disbelief now beyond words) We live a few blocks from there.

Me: I grew up on 46th and Madelia.

Her: We live on 41st and Hatch.

Are you kidding me? Am I in Pondicherry India talking Spokane street names? Anyway, this story just proves that Spokane is, indeed, the center of the (known) universe. In case you ever doubted that obvious fact. We took pictures of us together so we could have proof this had happened, marveled at how small the world is and went on our ways. And these are the only American tourists we’ve seen down here.

Just another day with Dave and Beth.

India

We left for India on January 1 and will be here until the 19th.  Lots of table stories here, for sure.  But we only have one computer with us and we aren’t interested in spending our time here on the computer anyway, so this will be a brief up-date. 

FYI, David is up-dating his blog more often than me.  Check it out at www.roadeducation.wordpress.com

What I will say in this brief entry is that India is as people told me it would be.  Beyond words.  Overwhelming.  Remarkable.  This place is complicated and I won’t even pretend that I understand it.  I am here humbly, just trying to observe and learn.  And there is much to learn.

Religion is very important here and we are having wonderful conversations with people about religion.  Everyone with whom we have spoken agrees that ultimately we are all on a path to the same spiritual place.  We each have different paths.  Problems occur when we think that we know the only true path.  So true.  For David, as a geography/world cultures teacher, and for me, as a teacher of Judaism, this place provides opportunities for rich conversation and much to think about. 

There are so many stories here.  I’ll never even begin to know even a small fraction of them.  Each face has a story.  Each person here has much to teach me.  I am grateful for this opportunity.  And, I must admit, it is important to be in a place where almost nobody cares or even knows about the issues in Israel or even in the States.  We tend to think the world revolves around us, but, in fact, the world is immense and our self-absorption is evident when traveling here.

I’m not sure if I’ll write more while I’m here.  David probably will.  I’ll write when we get back to Jerusalem.  We are having a wonderful time and I look forward to being in touch with more details upon our return.