Rabbi's Blog - November 2010

The End of the Limmud Controversy?
26/11/2010

Everyone seems to know about the Limmud Crisis though few know when or how it began. It was some fifteen years ago when I was invited to attend and deliver a lecture. Alert to the potential controversy - sharing an event with clergy the non-orthodox is always a hot potato in the UK - I consulted the one man who always offers me sound advice, my dear father. While in North America the concern would be a non-starter, on this side of the pond the dynamic is distinctly different, mainly because the Orthodox movements make up the overwhelming majority. It was for this reason that my father suggested I consult with the London Beth Din. It was only a brief phone chat but I was told a categorical no. When word got out, the story made headlines in the Jewish press. there it spilled over into pulpit rifts, with the then Stanmore Rabbi, Jeffrey Cohen attacking me one weekend and myself responding the following weekend. Both of us were summoned by the Chief Rabbi and told to tone it down. A consultative session was called the Chief Rabbi explained that platform sharing with non-orthodox was forbidden but Limmud was a grey area, and as such was left up to “individual conscience.” So began the longest running, though equally dignified disputes among the United Synagogue ecclesiastical authorities. The Chief Rabbi always remained consistent in his position each time the question arose, which was often, and the Beth Din, Dayan Ehrentrau in particular, always vociferously, though respectfully begged to differ.

For one reason or another I was always in the Beth Din camp. Mostly because Limmud was being directed by either staunch members of the reform movement who had their own agenda or even US members who were more pro-pluralism than anything else. Limmud, to my mind anyway, had been hijacked to serve ulterior motives.

Much of that has changed in recent years. With the Chief Rabbi’s son-in-law previously at the helm and the Limmud Conference now being run by the ever dynamic and capable Danielle Nagler, these are people committed solely to the ideal of education, as Limmud was always intended to be. In addition, over the years I’ve heard about increasing numbers of my own membership attending, something I can assume is being mirrored across the community. Indeed it is an undisputed fact that of the more than two thousand who now attend each year, more than eighty percent is made up of the United Synagogue membership. That they are only going to be lectured to by a scant number of orthodox rabbis and mostly non-orthodox clergy is unconscionable.

I’ve received an invitation to attend again this year. Sensible as it may be to slip in and out quietly and just do my thing, it’ll be near impossible to go unnoticed. I’ve already been contacted by the Jewish Chronicle trying to confirm rumours and what with the aforementioned history I know some headline is unavoidable. Even as the Beth Din might employ tactics of trying to marginalise me, whether as having gone soft or labelling me a left-winger, it occurs to me that with my “right-wing credentials” and being as the first ever chairman of the Rabbinical Council to attend they’re going to have more than a palpitation or two.

I’ve been imagining what it would be like if the entire Rabbinical Council would elect en masse to go. We could recapture the moral high ground as our own congregants will have a wider array of Orthodox options, which must surely be a welcoming thought.

The taboo seems to be breaking especially as two strictly Orthodox Hackney councillors have recently spoken at a mini-Limmud in their borough. Add to that my attendance and maybe several more colleagues who would follow my lead and Limmud would have a more substantial Orthodox representation, as it ought to.

So will I be going? Watch this space!

Home and Away
26/11/2010

Several days ago I was in Estonia. A country with only one and a half million citizens and two thousand Jews, mostly Russian immigrants, it is a broad mix of the old and the new. Driving through Tallinn city centre, one would be forgiven for thinking they were in the heart of the West End while walking through the Old City, is like being transported back in time. It is here that one imagines most of Estonian Jewry lived before being subject to Nazi persecution and subsequent Soviet oppression.

Estonia was the first European country to be declared Judenfrei and Tallinn was the last European capital not to have a Synagogue until its inauguration in 2004. Having had an opportunity to meet personally with both the Prime Minister and the President of Estonia it was painful to hear of its tragic past. The PM Andrus Ansip, an exceptionally charming individual, apologised on behalf of his country’s past: This wasn’t just about what the Nazis did. The Estonian government collaborated. They could have done more to protect the community. I apologise for this. The President, Toomas Hendrik Ilves who fondly recalled his growing up in a class of mostly Jews in New Jersey, presented me with two very large volumes of a recently published work on the history of Estonia. The first volume, covering just the years 1940-1945 consists of more than 1300 pages!

The Jewish community is itself a similar blend of the old and new. Many of those living there carry the scars of communist oppression and some are Holocaust survivors. But there are several young singles, young married, and more than two hundred children in the Jewish school, though admittedly not all are Jewish. Estonian Chief Rabbi, Shmuel Kot is young and incredibly dynamic, and together with his young wife and family has brought revival into the community.

Upon arrival in Estonia as a sort of pre-Chanukah meeting with government officials and to deliver a talk to the Jewish community, I anticipated - as one does in Eastern European countries - a modest synagogue, a somewhat neglected school building and wondered whether I was going to go mostly hungry over the two days. So to say I was bowled over by the enormous four story community building - housing a state of the art school, a synagogue that makes many UK Synagogues look more like barns, and even a modern restaurant frequented by patrons every day - would be an understatement.

Who could have imagined such a small community in such a small country could have such a magnificent infrastructure. It is very much to the credit of local government that they are extremely supportive of the community and have allocated funds for the rebuilding. Other typical donors include the usual gambit: Holocaust restitution fund, The Rhor foundation, the Ronny Pearlman foundation etc.

To be sure, this is not the first time I’ve visited an Eastern European country and each and every time, without fail, I marvel at the infrastructure, the buildings, etc. Whether a seven story community centre in Moscow to the world’s largest Jewish community centre in the Ukraine and even this magnificent edifice in the heart of Estonia, it occurs to me that the former Soviet Union of today is not the same as it was ten years ago.

Eastern European Jewish communities today are a far cry the imagery projected by organisations such as say, WJR (World Jewish Relief). A quick glimpse on their website portrays the shtetl like impression of hard winters, people struggling along with many starving etc. It’s hardly a true reflection of present day reality. Does poverty exist in these places? Sure it does. But it exists in many other places as well – even here in the UK.

This brings me back to my old hobby-horse. Several years ago, after having returned a Sabbatical in Israel I wrote an article for the Jewish Chronicle in which I reflected on the health of the Israel economy vis-à-vis many Western countries and challenged the large sums raised in the Diaspora for Israel when the needs of your own city come first.

To quote the article: There are several United Synagogues struggling to make ends meet, some laden with debt. Others are undergoing redevelopment to meet the growing demands of their community. People are either moving out of the neighbourhood and assimilating, or marrying out. There is a dire need to invest in programmes to service the wider community and stem the tide of decline. However unpopular the question might be, dare I ask: Is it not perhaps time, we consider redirecting our appeal to the immediate concerns on our home front?

Since then the UK economy has deteriorated even more, poverty in the Jewish community has increased, and with government cutbacks many more communal organisations are going wanting. Does Eastern European Jewry need our help? To some extent certainly, just as we will always look to channel charitable funds to Israel. But the extent to which monies are raised – according to the WJR accounts for 2009 more than three million pounds - I have to reiterate now, even more so than I did then, charity really should begin at home.

Will He, Wont He? A Right Royal Problem
16/11/2010

Mazal Tov to HRH and the whole mishpacha on the delightful announcement of the Royal Engagement. At least now theres some feel good news to occupy the press instead of Irelands meltdown, Israels construction freezes, and X Factor conspiracy theories.

Its always with a high profile simcha that one tends to speculate. s the venue? Buckingham Palace or the Kinloss Suite? Whos the caterer? Will Tony Page put in a bid? And what of the bridal gown? Perhaps Dianas famous Sephardic Jewish designer, Jacques Azagury - couture to the North West London fashion elite?

One also tends to become somewhat sentimental. Oi the grooms late mother G-d rest her soul would be kvelling. But would the fact that the bride is stepping into the mother in laws limelight have caused a family broiges?

Most of these issues will be clarified in due course. There is one question however that will keep everyone guessing up until the last moment. While anyone whos a macher in the Jewish community will be vying for an invite to the big event, or at the very least the chupah, the one guaranteed presence is that of Lord Sacks - the Chief Rabbi.

When Lord Jakobowitz was invited to the Royal Wedding between Charles and Diana everyone readily observed how he refused to enter the church and remained on the stairs outside. He paid his respects without compromising his principles, was the mantra, certainly in strictly Orthodox circles. Since then there have been other occasions when the current Chief Rabbi is known to have taken his place in the pews. His critics were quick to pounce and point out the contrast. The argument was always on the grounds of kovod hamalchus - respect for royalty and the lenient ruling was supposed to have come the London Beth Din. (Churches are in but Limmud is out). In later instances the Office of the Chief Rabbi is known to have sent a representative which is always the ideal cop-out.

So come next year, what will happen? Will the Chief attend as before? Will he remain on the steps? Or will he send a substitute and compensate with yet another specially devised prayer to be recited on the Shabbat of the ufruf?

Will he, wont he? Thats a question his office will be grappling with, his critics will be pondering and the rest of us really couldnt give two hoots about. Just bring on the smörgåsbord.

What Next: Child Free Synagogues?
15/11/2010

After lingering on blogs for some time and even a Facebook page dedicated to the theme, the unspoken has finally been verbalised: “child free flights!”

According to a New York Times article, travellers without children are calling for airlines to implement child-free flights, or designate “family-only” sections on planes, in the wake of some high-profile tantrums.

The article reports how in July, “Qantas settled a lawsuit a woman who claimed that she suffered hearing loss after sitting next to a screaming 3-year-old boy on a 2009 flight New York to Australia. In January, AirTran removed an entire family a flight before takeoff Florida because their 3-year-old girl was hitting the parents, making noise and refusing to take her seat. And in March, a 42-year-old woman allegedly grabbed a 3 year old boy for kicking her chair during a Southwest flight to Las Vegas.”

A survey of 2,000 travellers released by Skyscanner found that 59 percent of passengers support creating special sections on flights for families. Nearly 20 percent said they would like to see airlines offer child-free flights.

Like many others, I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum. Having flown this past summer to Israel, it was difficult containing my two year old whirlwind as she sought pleasure in banging the tops of the heads of passengers sitting in front. But spending more time flying solo, I also know what it’s like trying to catch a few minutes shuteye with a three year old throwing a tantrum some in near proximity. (There’s the one time en route New York to London when a mother kept trying to soothe her hysterical child, “Hush Charles calm down.” I couldn’t resist the temptation of turning to the passengers next to me, “you know that’s Charles prince of ‘wails.’). Still, I know to grin and bear it – after all I had young kids of my own with still one little one to grow, and I relate to the parents’ quandary.

But while the debate is just emerging in the airline industry, it’s been raging for a while in the synagogue services industry. Many synagogues go through the experience of kids wandering in and out of the service. And many of those same synagogues have members – usually on the south side of fifty – who fuss and tut and shush till they’re blue in the face. Given half an opportunity, these members would advocate a child free service. Like many of those aforementioned travellers, they’ve forgotten that they once had young kids of their own. Walk into any synagogue past its sell-by date and ask the thirty or so elderly members sitting there what they wouldn’t give for some children running around, bringing some youthfulness back into the atmosphere.

With more than five hundred kids under the age of ten belonging to the Mill Hill Synagogue, many who will attend their especially dedicated children’s services on a Shabbat, I’ve watched the scowls emerge on the faces of some, as the kids might sometimes roam into the main service and occasionally I feel the need to announce that “this is a child friendly zone.” Admittedly, it can be disconcerting when a few of them come waltzing in, in middle of a sermon, but then I remind myself of my own children and let the moment pass.
Some years ago someone commissioned the purchase of a special blue rope that was placed near the entrance of the synagogue to bar entry after a certain time and to keep kids out of the main sanctuary during the service. I dedicated a sermon to that blue rope and a week later, much to the chagrin of the now deceased sponsor, it simply disappeared. It still sits snugly under my chair collecting dust.

The child free flights concept has already been touted in congress, just as the problem of children in the synagogue will have been brought up at Board meetings. In both instances they always get shot down. Child free flights are hardly likely in a vulnerable industry that is so desperate to return to profitability. And with many synagogues struggling to keep their membership afloat not to mention Jewish society as a whole striving desperately to keep more in the fold than out, we would do well to appreciate the sound of child commotion in our services. Our children are after all, our future.

When Innocence Is Not So Innocent

14/11/2010

It is told of a young boy who was walking with his father in Meah Shearim when he sees a one legged girl in a wheelchair. The boy sighs aloud: “Poor girl!” This followed a resounding slap across the boy’s face and the father bellowing: “How do you know that girls have two legs!”

Distasteful as the joke may be, it conveys a certain truism in Israel today. A recent article in a leading Israeli newspaper highlighted new extreme levels of segregation being integrated in parts of Israeli society. Citing some of the more common examples, such as men and women sitting separately on buses, it went on to refer to more recent implementations like separate male and female hours at doctors and dentists surgeries. One would have to presume that everyone – the dentists, the hygienists, the doctors and the nurses, not to mention the receptionists would all have to be either male or female subject to the particular shift. You couldn’t possibly have Chaim Shmiel greeted by a babushka twenty years his senior, lest he has corrupt thoughts all day.

To be sure, I understand some of the sensitivity, even if I don’t agree with all of it. We only need look to the opposite end of the spectrum – underage sex, teen pregnancies, rampant infidelity, all consequences of the proliferation of pornography and the sensationalising of sex in the media. Who could then blame religious societies for wanting to preserve whatever innocence possible? Whether a bus in Bnei Brak or a billboard in Edgware, I get it.

But it’s the next part of the newspaper article that is deeply disturbing. A small ultra-orthodox community in the Negev has now introduced separate hours in the public playground. Come again? Forget the impracticality for the parents concerned, the very idea in and of itself is precisely what transforms the commonality of childhood innocence which transcends gender, into some form of perverse sexualisation. The very thought that someone some could come up with the idea that three year old boys and girls need to be kept apart one another suggests a very warped mindset.

I would hazard a guess, and I’m betting psychologists would concur; those who brainstormed this new ‘innovation’ have some deep personal issues not worth elaborating on in this article. But it is all alluded to in the Talmudic story of the two Rabbis who came by a river there was a woman waiting to cross. One of the Rabbis lifted the woman on his shoulders and carried her to the other side. The two Rabbis continued journeying on in silence when the other turned to his colleague: “I don’t understand how you could have just picked that woman up like that and carried her on your shoulders?” To which the other replied: “The difference between you and me is that I put her down on the other side of the river. You, apparently, are still carrying her.”

Sympathy To Empathy

4/11/2010

Life has a curious way of tuning us in. Being a Rabbi for so many years I will have invariably encountered people enduring all sorts of struggles. On one very obvious level the most difficult ones are those coping with illness and amongst them those who are defined as terminal. Even as we may be a sympathetic bunch, or trained to say and do all the right things, nothing quite compensates for the, “been there – done that,” personal experience. It’s the essential difference between sympathy – I feel for your pain, and empathy – I know your pain. The latter enables you to connect so much more personally with another. Hence when I was diagnosed with a stomach condition back in 2001 and spent some time in and out of hospital, someone commented to me, “Maybe this will give you an edge when visiting other sick people.” He was right of course. I can relate to hospital stays, surgical procedures and what not. I can connect to people undergoing similar crises of sorts.

This empathy was bumped up a notch several months back when my father was diagnosed with a dreaded terminal illness. As a Jew and as a Rabbi I loathe using the term “terminal,” if only because it might imply a lack of faith. Still, a strictly practical and medical perspective let’s call a spade a spade. Yet again, however unfortunately, I find myself connecting on an altogether different level with those struggling with a loved one enduring a similar plight.

But the real eye-opener for me is what I might call my own “faith vulnerability.” It’s painful to watch someone whose mind was razor sharp, whose breadth and depth of knowledge was world renowned, whose recall was second to none, who lectured extensively across the globe up until literally a week before his diagnosis always without a single note, who authored more than two dozen books and who touched the lives of literally thousands with his sterling insights – never sick a day in his life and now with that wonderful mind being challenged. If the mind is of man’s greatest gifts then the deterioration of that mind has got to be of life’s cruellest punishments.

Not that I’m entertaining doubts about my faith or have issues with the paradox of G-d and human suffering. I have lectured extensively on the subject of “Do Bad Things Happen to Good People,” and I make a darn good presentation of it, even if I may say so myself. But I always conclude each lecture with the same point: As much as one can deal with the matter intellectually, when confronted with the challenge, in the midst of the pain, it might all ring hollow. And who’s to judge? Indeed sometimes when meeting people going through such challenges the one thing I can offer them – the only thing I can offer them is hope. I look to communicate to them the spiritual reality that inasmuch as doctors diagnose in accordance with obvious medical diktat, G-d calls the ultimate shots and miracles can always happen. So how come I’m struggling presently to incorporate that into my own situation? Why do I find myself so overwhelmed? ’s my ‘hope?’ Yet again the sympathy for others in similar circumstances has shifted into empathy.