Rabbi without a cause

Excuse me... is this on?

2008-09-12T14:00:00.008-04:00

*yawn*

rwac stretches, looks around, sees his shadow and drops down below the ground before rising slowly, bleary-eyed, to peer out at the jblogosphere.

is it that time, already?

ugh. stress. funerals and hospitals, because we always seem to have a bump after people come back from vacation, and speeches. speeches. speeches. meetings. meetings. meetings. with minyan and selichos thrown in for good measure. shofar practice. schedules. speeches speeches speeches. no time for the gym. no energy for the gym. a whole bunch of new community initiatives to push. nursing homes. classes, lots of classes. one-on-one learning. mincha getting earlier is bad, maariv ending earlier is good. shacharis getting darker out is bad. my sainted rebbetzin wants to know who (whom, really) to invite for meals on yom tov. i'd rather not invite anyone, the way i feel at the moment. ich bin ein grouch.

wait - where have my capital letters gone?

E-L-U-L!!!!!!!!!!

oh. there they are. wonderful. maybe they could have stayed hidden for the next five, six, seven weeks?

I think I've lost my blogging voice; I'm definitely a little hoarse.

I really just wanted to wish the world a ksiva vachasima tova, happy and healthy and you know the rest, especially because Ari asked so nicely a while back. But, while I'm at it, a few other notes:

1) Why have I not come back yet? Because a JBlogosphere without the Renegade Rebbetzin just isn't the same.
I have poked around a little and found some interesting new blogs, though. My friend over at The Rebbetzin's Husband (totally wish I had thought of that name) led me to In the Pink, which I really enjoy and which led me to Infinite Randominity, which I liked but led me nowhere.
My Shrapnel is a great read, and it led me to Coffee and Chemo, which took me to What to expect when you're not expecting, which apparently was still around when I was blogging, but I didn't know about it.

2) I've somehow gained FOLLOWERS. Me. Go figure! It's true! You can see them if you know how to find blog-followers...
Oh, all right, just click here.
This is a little silly, though, folks. I don't post here anymore. Go to the blogs I mentioned above, or the ones in my sidebar, and become their followers. Rabbis don't need or want followers.
Or we won't admit it, anyway.

3) Those sefarim I retired from the blogosphere to write? Yeah, right. Not a page complete. The time I was using for this has since been sucked up by other things... which is what always happens... אל תאמר לכשאפנה אשנה, שמא לא תפנה - Don't say, "When I have free time I will learn, lest you never have free time." You have to make it happen, and I have not made it happen.

4) What else, what else... If Sarah Palin were XY instead of XX, no one, and I mean no one, would take her seriously as a candidate. Not because of (in)experience, but because she is so far right on the big wedge issues that people would say, "Oh, great, another old white Republican male." It's only the fact that she's a woman that has put this in play; the men are just eating this up.

I'm sure there's other stuff I've thought of posting over the past 6, 7 months... Rubashkin, of course, and the Jblogger convention... but I'm really not likely to start the blog up again. There is nothing to see here; move along.

But make sure to do tshuva. And may we be inscribed for a happy, healthy new year.

*yawn*

RWAC has peeked... piqued... peaked

2008-02-24T20:50:00.008-05:00

Surprising myself as much as anyone else, I’ve decided to stop anonyblogging.

This blog has peeked
I have succeeded, I think, in giving people a look at the inside of a rabbi’s mind, schedule and life. It hasn’t been pretty, but it’s been authentic, and that is a higher aesthetic value for me.

This blog has piqued
Unquestionably, I’ve annoyed some people out there - I know because they email me. And I’ve given people some things to think about. And I’ve piqued my own curiosity, educating myself about what I’m thinking. So being RWAC has definitely helped me.

But this blog has, for the time being, peaked.
Certainly, I have a lot left to say. I have a list of a dozen or so topics that are just waiting for posts, and that’s just what comes to mind, unbidden, on a day-to-day basis. But I don’t feel a huge urge to write it down and publish it now. The old feeling of anticipation - I wonder what I’ll say, I wonder what the readers will say back - just isn’t there these days.

Part of it is surely just exhaustion; I’m in way over my head in projects, some old, some new, some run-of-the-mill and some rather out there.

Part of it is a feeling of guilt when I take time from my shul, not to mention my family, to craft a post. I’ve never been one of those bloggers who puts real time into a post, editing and re-editing and the like, but there has still been time involved.

Part of it is that I have so much else I want to do. I took some time out to work on a sefer over the past month, and the result has been that I am now working on three sefarim.

Part of it, frankly, is pride. When I post regularly, I get about 200 visitors per day. When I don’t post for a week those numbers get slashed in half, and I look at Sitemeter (yes, I do that) and the stats are pathetic.

And then there’s another factor, which has been growing in me for a quite a long time - probably since my “Out of step with the Jewish blogosphere” post, the one that first catapulted me to the pseudofame of the anonymous blogosphere. I don’t like crafting a good idea and then putting it out there anonymously. I like to take credit.

Yes, that’s ego talking - but it’s still an accurate read of what I’m feeling. I don’t like to work on a meaningful concept or a solid practical suggestion and feel like I can’t attach my name to it. That's one reason many rabbis rabbi - because they feel competent to pontificate publicly, and they don't mind the attention that goes with it.

So I may well start a named blog some time in the future, one that has the serious stuff and some of the humor, but without the snark and potential lashon-hara that has forced me to live undercover as RWAC for the past 18 months.

I’ll leave the blog up, since I do value the things I’ve written here. And I may come back to this blog from time to time, when some thought demands expression and I can't do it under my own name safely.

I’ll continue to read comments on this blog and respond to them, since I can never allow other people the last word.

But for now, I have to retire from this blog.

To my most regular commenters, penpals and friends:
anon1,
Ari (the first blogger to ‘discover’ me, as I recall),
Ayelet,
Barzilai (wherever you’ve gone),
Batya,
Chana,
Daniel from England,
dd (both of you),
Ezzie,
FosterAbba,
Gil (who first made me [in-]famous for defending gedolim),
Halfnutcase,
Isaac,
Jack (who gave me much more than waffles to think about),
Jameel (who never gave me any waffles, but מחול לך because you gave me the moniker RWAC),
Jewish Deaf Motorcycling Dad,
Joel Rich,
Juggling Frogs,
Kol Ra’ash Gadol,
Michael Sedley,
Monica (where have you gone?),
Mordechai Y. Scher,
mother in israel,
Mr. Bagel (to whom I owe the cool logo),
Neil Harris,
Reb Lazer,
Renegade Rebbetzin (where are you?!),
Rivka (please keep blogging!),
seawitch,
Sabine613 (wherever you went),
Schvach ,
SephardiLady,
Sheyna (who thought I was cool),
Steg,
Suitepotato,
tf,
Therapydoc,
tnspr569,
Tzipporah (who is very cool),
uberimma,
yingerman (I still wish you blogged more)

-and, of course, AnonymouS-

thank you so much for being here all along. Your readership and friendship has meant a lot to me.

Please keep in touch.

Announcement coming...

2008-02-23T20:08:00.001-05:00

...so stay tuned...עוד חזון למועד...

My Guilty Pleasure: Senator Barack Obama, and Optimism

2008-02-15T14:29:00.004-05:00

I’ve read all the emails, the articles from Daniel Pipes (not very impressive) and the American Thinker (more compelling), the inadequate response from Ira Forman, the bulletins about anti-Israel Obama counselor Zbegnew Brzenzski (or however he spells his name, usually I’m pretty careful but in this case I’ll make an exception) and about Jeremiah Wright Jr, pastor of Senator Obama and long-time venemously anti-Israel activist.

So I know I should turn my back on Obama’s candidacy, stop watching will.i.am’s “Yes we can” video, stop running “in the unlikely story that is America there has never been anything false about hope” through my head. Wise up, pal, this candidate’s closest associates are opposed to the things you hold dearest.

Besides, I’ve always been a big John McCain fan. I was annoyed beyond measure when our current president got the nomination ahead of Senator McCain eight years ago, and I’m glad (and very relieved) that McCain will beat out Huckabee (who in the world could think that we could elect a guy named President Huckabee, anyway?). So I should just get behind the guy with the guts and the track record and the brains.

But Senator Barack Obama is my guilty pleasure, as he has been ever since I first heard him a few years ago. I just love the things he says - beyond the eloquent style, beyond the articulate words, it’s the message. It’s optimism.

It’s a voice that is so rare in politics, even though its value is obvious.

It’s a dream that so clearly resonates with the electorate, but that politicians fear to express, lest they nourish expectations they cannot fulfill.

It’s what Hillary will never have, frankly, and that’s why she can’t get anyone to take her seriously these days. Hillary is a bitter realist, by virtue of nature and by virtue of experience. Americans prefer an authority figure who smiles sincerely, who traffics in dreams, whose response to a request is “Yes we can” rather than “We’ll see.” It may be unrealistic, but it bespeaks a positive attitude which the great majority of this nation shares, or wishes it could share.

Bill Clinton was elected on optimism; the kid from the town called “Hope” sold a nation on his belief that things could get better.

George W. Bush got his first term because of optimism; remember Al Gore’s doom-and-gloom “social security lockbox”? Remember how many votes it didn’t get him?

Ronald Reagan ring a bell?

(Don’t ask me to explain George Bush Sr. I can’t.)

People who say, "But Obama never says what he is optimistic about, he hasn't staked out a clear platform," miss the point. They're 100% right - but it's not relevant. People love the person who answers the phone asking "How can I help you" right off the bat. It's the person who says, "Whatever you need, I'll work to help you get it." The Naaseh v'Nishma approach, if you will.

Optimism and an upbeat tone are invaluable in the rabbinate, too - People don’t gravitate to a rabbi who moans and groans and goes negative against his real and perceived foes, who lashes out in tirades, whose mussar is bitter and angry. They much prefer someone who smiles and reaches out, who inspires with positive mussar that eschews tearing down in favor of building up.

So I listen to the silver tongue of a man who responded to bitter New Hampshire defeat with a charming smile and a charged “Yes we can” chorus, and against my instincts I wonder… what if they’re all wrong? What if he’s the real deal?

The Dreaded Davkanik

2008-02-08T12:37:00.000-05:00

["Davka" is a Hebrew/Aramaic word meaning "precisely" or "specifically". A "davkanik" does things just because.]

You know the person I mean. The passive-aggressive spouse who won't clean up the bathroom sink which you left a mess when you were in a rush, in order to prove a point. The teenage child who wouldn't really mind parking the car neatly but feels a need to demonstrate his independence. The work colleague who shows up three minutes late to the meeting because she's frustrated that everyone else does it, the checkout person who insists on seeing your credit card to verify the signature even though you shop there daily and she knows you by face.

And, of course, the congregant who walks out after the Haftorah for a drink in the coatroom just because the OU made a stink about it two years ago.

But the worst of all, for me, is the davkanik Rabbis.

They exist on both ends of the religious spectrum, left and right.

The lefties insist on having double-ring wedding ceremonies and women's megilah readings and relying on a controversial hechsher and speaking against the Rabbanut in Israel and pontificating against Artscroll, not necessarily because any of these are necessary in a particular situation but just because they feel someone ought to be doing it. I don't care if you won't eat my hechsher, I believe that non-Glatt is just fine, so that's what my caterer will use. I'll stick my hand in your face, woman, until you shake it, because I think it's mutar. And don't you show me a sheitel.

The righty davkaniks, on the other hand, boycott any event of any kind in which seating is mixed, and stand outside fuming and broadcasting their righteous indignation in case anyone isn't already aware of their discontent. They sit down during the tefillah for the IDF and the medinah - even if they are in the middle of Shmoneh Esreih. They are most afraid of maris ayin, and so even if the food at an event is kosher they take a plate and refuse to eat, lest people think they accept the caterer's hashgachah for all future events, because in five years the caterer might switch hashgachot. Not only will they not sit on a beis din with that oisvorf YU rabbi, they won't even shake his hand. (or is that a germ thing?)

The davkaniks are across the political camps, too. One side preaches Pollard on every occasion including their child's first grade Siddur party, the other camp co-opts every opportunity to criticize the 'settlers,' even a community Purim Seudah. But you get the point.

I'm guilty, too, of davkahood, personally and professionally. This post isn't about a 'them,' although I do think I work pretty hard to avoid making statements just for the sake of making statements.

The whole thing aggravates me no end. What do we gain by davkahood? It's not even about making a point, really, let alone convincing anyone - it's about playing a role, to make ourselves feel good.

And, of course, the big question - does it make us feel good, in the end? If it does, then why do we need to keep doing it?

Altering the mood before a meeting

2008-02-06T13:04:00.000-05:00

A lot… a lot… a lot… going on here, and very little time for writing the sefer, let alone the blog. Let alone doing my job.

The other day I read an article about choosing your motivational song, something that would inspire you and get your adrenaline pumping before a key meeting or challenge.

I’ve been doing this for years, and it has a sound basis in Torah (think Dovid playing music for Shaul, as well as the prohibitions against post-Churban music), but in my experience this requires some care because of the power of music as an emotion-shaper. First you need to know what mood you wish to inspire, before you can choose the right song. If that step doesn’t happen first, the result can be a horror.

Some songs get me into more of a fighting mode - VaYiven Uziyahu by the Piamentas is a good example - a song with a serious drum, and solid electric guitar in the background. But if I’m going into a touchy political meeting, that’s not the right song; I’m apt to come out swinging.

On the other hand, some music is good for mellowing me; softer music, something classical. It’s not really to my liking, but it works - I come out of it patient and thoughtful.

There are other ways to alter a mood, beyond music. A rebbe of mine, decades ago, counseled me to deal with complex issues by stopping what I was doing and learning a daf of gemara before returning to the topic at hand. It works very well - as a distraction, as a re-focusing away from my personal emotions, as a chance to do some learning and feel good afterward. Learning can alter a mood.

Learning specific topics also helps. Learning mussar is humbling. Learning certain works of halachah inclines me toward toughness. Learning other sefarim opens my mind in other ways.

Exercise is a mood-alterer, too. Depression can be heavily influenced by a shortage of neurotransmitters like serotonin and norepinephrine. Exercise increases concentrations of these neurotransmitters by stimulating the sympathetic nervous system. There’s more to it, too; see here for some fascinating information.

Sleep changes my mood - the more sleep I get, the calmer I tend to be.

Food changes my mood - although far less predictably. The type of food, the speed of the meal, etc, produce different results.

Time with kids - mine or those of others - changes my mood, generally positively.

Reading the news tends to be a mood-alterer, but not necessarily in a positive way. That’s a good way to get me into a combative mood heading into a meeting.

That’s my brief collection, in the few moments I found to blog today. What other methods do you have?

Adopting Columbus...and Koufax, and Einstein, and Heller...

2008-01-27T14:34:00.001-05:00

Long time no post... the world has been crazy of late.

I have had a few minutes to browse posts elsewhere, lots of items on the Muqata, Wings Like a Dove, Jack (new Haveil Havalim HQ!), Therapydoc, etc, that I would love to reference, if I had the time, which I don't... just go down my blogroll and check 'em all.

But because I feel like I'm missing part of my social circle by not posting something here at least once a week, here's a thought:

I received the latest edition (5th) of a new newspaper, The Jewish Word, put out by the Religious Zionists of America. (Side note: I recall seeing Rabbi Pesach Lerner of Young Israel listed prominently in the editorial board in earlier editions, but his name no longer appears. Curious.) The back cover runs the headline, "New Evidence: Columbus was of Marrano Stock." The article, accompanied by a picture of the honored explorer looking slightly dyspeptic ("What? What do you mean we're out of deli?!"), runs through various half-claims and unsubstantiated rumors aimed at claiming Columbus for the tribe.

Aside from the offensiveness of the "Marrano" title, the article itself bothers me; it's part of a long-standing, hideous tradition of appropriating celebrity Jews-by-birth for the honor of the lantzmen, without paying attention to their characters, let alone their Judaism.

The pattern runs from sports (Koufax, Greenberg, Auerbach, etc) to literature (Heller, Kafka, Asimov) to science (Einstein - need I say more?) to politics to music to finance to Hollywood to you-name-it.

It particularly troubles me to witness this trend in a newspaper published by the "Religious Zionists of America." What, exactly, was Religious or Zionist about Columbus, even were he a Jew?

The whole thing smacks of a facile name-dropping which seeks to inflate our importance at the expense of our self-respect. How about honoring the ones who are loyal to both our heritage and our values, granting them the celebrity they deserve?

This looks like Assimilation, with a twist. Instead of saying, "Look how successfully secular I can be," proponents of this Sandleresque adopt-a-celebrity approach trumpet, "Look how successfully secular Judaism can be."

Harrumph.

That said, I'm now off to continue working on the million projects hanging over my head. Go read the blogroll or something; I hope to be back to posting somewhat regularly, eventually.

Poland's Jewish Cultural Festival

2008-01-20T18:08:00.000-05:00

Last week, I was asked (as a “fairly prominent Orthodox Jew in the blogosphere” ?) to comment on Poland’s annual “Jewish Cultural Festival.” (Is it crass to call this Jewskifest?)

At first glance, this Jewish-culture festival looks like any other – it features music and cinema and speakers and food and literature and art exhibitions, and offers a good time along with exposure to Jewish culture.

But the festival is unlike other Jewish cultural festivals, for two reasons:
1) It is held in a country that is one big graveyard for Holocaust-era Jewry, and
2) The great majority of participants are not actually Jewish. I don’t mean like matrilineal-patrilineal or questionable-conversion non-Jewish, I mean not Jewish altogether, don’t claim to be Jewish, not a drop of schmaltz in their veins.

So, what do I think of the whole thing?

First, a caveat: It’s not as though this is a national movement – with about 38.5 million Poles (according to CIA 2007 statistics), even if they attract the 20,000 people they claim, and even if all 20,000 are Poles, that’s still only .5% or so.

Having said that, I would distinguish between the motivations of the organizers and the motivations of the participants.

Looking at the website and reading the comments of the organizers (such as here), it seems to me that for the directorate this is a mix of profiteering and peace-making. The “Merry Everything” button at the bottom of the website’s front page pretty much says it all: Let’s celebrate everyone’s rituals, make everyone feel good, and earn a zloty at the same time.

As for the participants, it seeme like an attempt to recover a part of society that the society, itself, had once rejected, and it’s fueled by an uncomfortable mix of motivations: Sensitivity to a national loss, Generation Gap rebellion, Seeking a good time in an exotic arena and Giving-peace-a-chance multiculturalism.

Somewhere in the mix there seems to be a layer of nostalgia, and specifically nostalgia for something that they (or really their parents, obviously,) destroyed. I would draw an analogy to a child whose parents levelled their original home, the one in which he was born. He grows up and becomes wealthy, purchases the site of the original home, razes what is now there and builds a replica of his old house, complete with the treehouse he so dearly loved.

What it isn’t, of course, is repentance – which is fine with me, because I am not the one who can forgive, anyway.

So is it good, or bad, or neutral? That I can’t say. But it’s certainly a change from 70 years ago.

RWAC cynical? Not on this blog, pal

2008-01-16T15:08:00.000-05:00

Anonymous Commenter mibsphil has suggested that I am down on the rabbinate, largely cynical, possibly even in the rabbinate only because I couldn’t find parnassah elsewhere.

It was an amusing comment for me, because (1) I don’t find consider myself cynical or down on the rabbinate in the least, and (2) I actually turned down some pretty good opportunities, business-wise, to enter the rabbinate. I am way Up on the rabbinate.

But then I thought it would be a good idea to review my blog and see whether mibsphil has a leg to stand on with this claim. So I took the past 100 posts - from July 17 ’07 through Jan 14 ’08, a good six months - and broke them down into rough categories.

Here’s what I’ve found; the posts themselves are listed with rough titles, in reverse chronological order:

Posts on issues that come up in the rabbinate - 29
Youth, Hug the Rav haMachshir, Mad Lib Eulogy, In the Navy, Changing of the Rabbi II, Changing of the Rabbi I, The Rabbi’s Nuts, The Shul Doctor, Lead and they will follow, Rabbi you’re disturbed!, Synagogue secretary, Rabbi Bluenose, The Rabbi’s Enemies II, The Rabbi’s Enemies I, Lock the doors, Pin the Plague II, Pin the Plague I, Transition documents, Review your rabbi, Rabbinic Al Cheit, Rabbinic Speechwriting, Doubting myself, Ritual Committee, Habits of Ineffective Congregants, Funeral humor, Shofar practice, Search Dos and Don’ts, Christian prayer, Sending suicidal people form letters

Posts on Jewish Community - 23
Message to OU, Restaurants, Interdenom, Flipping Out, After the Federation, Jewish community as employment agency, Bronfman idea, Giving a questioner serious attitude, Syrian Conversion Ban, Splitting Jerusalem, Young Israel & Taliban, Young Israel & Chovevei, Alcoholism I, Environmentalism and Orthodoxy, Dean of YU, Time to modernize Tzedakah, Competition, Jewish charter schools, Mezuzah scams, Predicting future sadness, Is Artscroll Anti-Semitic?, Women’s Tefillah Groups, Rabbinic government

Posts on Torah and Judaism - 15
Late to gym, Tom Brady, Accepting alternative lifestyles, Miracle of the Oil, In which RWAC loses it, Leftover Turkey, The malleability of Halachah, Religious Zionism, Shiva, Responding to Rejection, Avraham and Kayin, Moshe-Yonah-Tom Carvel, Re-focus, Leave ‘em laughing, Do not go softly

Posts on personal life - 15
Black-hatted travel, Life is Beautiful, Seeking my brother, Chef without a cause, Hagiography of RWAC, Beowulf, Investing, Chaos, Looking forward to Yom Kippur, It’s all death, I am the Entertainer, Alcoholism II, RWAC’s therapist, Diagnophobia, Sin-Eater

Posts on the State of the World - 5
Persian Gulf, Darfur and Steroids, White House Chanukah, Healthcare Futility, American stores jump the turkey

Posts on Blogging - 3
Tale of Two Blogs, A Year in the Public Diary, The Role of the Roll

And posts on Complaints about the Rabbinate ……..9
Why rabbis quit, The Rabbi and Britney Spears, You take him, The Frustrated Crusader, The meaning of Urgent, Community Service, See Rabbi sit/stand/complain, Quit judging me, Boards and Pomegranates

Of course, some personal posts and some posts about rabbinic issues contain complaints. And some of the complaint posts have humor and positives in them, too; I can’t really stick to one dimension.

But , to cite the NFL: Upon further review, the challenge is upheld. RWAC is no cynic. Hooray!

Why Rabbis Quit

2008-01-14T18:55:00.001-05:00

The London Jewish Chronicle recently had a piece on why rabbis quit the rabbinate. To me, that's not really a question; the question is why some rabbis don't quit this profession of non-stop Chesed.

Some of the cases cited in that article seemed rather extreme to me, such as this one, at the start of the article:

"I was about to go into the a shul meeting”, a rabbi recalled, “when a senior board member turned to me and said ‘You might be the rabbi, but remember I’m paying your wages. Make sure that you agree with everything I say’.”

My reaction would likely be to slug him, and wait to see what happens. Let them fire me, if they want.

But there are lots of reasons rabbis quit, among them:

לא תעשה
Frustration with the communal fishbowl
Frustration with board politics
Frustration with nitpicking
Stress
Lashon Hara, Rechilus, etc.
The feeling that their devotion to community verges on selling out on religious values at times
Feeling that they are not making an impact
Feeling that others could do a better job

עשה
To devote more time to family
To devote more time to scholarship
To devote more time to making money
To enjoy Shabbos and Yom Tov
To be able to daven on Rosh HaShanah / Yom Kippur without worrying about a million practical details related to running the shul
To clear their minds of the details of a million hospitalizations and deaths and assorted tragedies (think Tommy Lee Jones at the end of MIB)

There are more reasons, of course; this is an extremely incomplete list.

Note: NO, I'm not saying the rabbinate is the worst job in the world; it's not. (For the record: The rebbetzinate is, closely followed by day school principal.) But these are some of the reasons why rabbis declare they've had enough and escape to Israel or sign on at a law firm or take up exotic dancing.

The sad thing is that there isn't a whole lot a shul can do about most of these factors. They can pay a good salary, but no salary will make up for stress. They can have a good board that functions well and assists the rabbi, but that won't spare him the psychological burden of people's suffering. This is simply part of the job, and either you deal with it or you don't.

Hopefully, though, the rabbis who retire do stay in the habit of helping - whether with shiurim or counseling or writing or whatever. Community service isn't an all-or-none deal, and burnout doesn't have to last forever. Klal Yisrael needs gomlei chasadim at every level.

Message to the OU: Please imitate Chabad Central

2008-01-10T10:14:00.000-05:00

I am a big fan of the Orthodox Union – not only the kashrus branch, but also the synagogue services department. They do a lot of good work and develop creative programs. I don’t always agree with everything they present, and my animus toward umbrella organizations is well-established elsewhere on this blog, but they really do a lot of good for their member synagogues.

The next good thing the OU should do for their branches, from my perspective, is to imitate Chabad. Specifically: To imitate the way Chabad Central takes care of their individual branches.

Do you want to see something amazing? Take a look at these two webpages from Chabad’s website for Shluchim, shluchim.org:

Here a shaliach gets information on how to use a Chabad-only discount of 50% on Office Depot orders. And look at the list of similar businesses running down the left side of the page.

Here a shaliach is offered a glossy, color “how-to” guide for Purim – for as little as 12 cents each. Do you have any idea how much money it would cost for me to print something like that? At least a dollar per piece. And go here for more items like that.

There’s nothing sinister or wrong about what they are doing – they have simply figured out how to harness the purchasing power of hundreds of Chabad branches. There’s nothing terribly difficult about putting it together, either; it’s a matter of being willing to make the contacts and present the sales pitch. And look at the results: Any shul would love to have those Office Depot rates, or that “how-to” guide.

There are, of course, major differences between Chabad’s relationship with its branches and the OU’s relationship with its branches. Among them:
-Chabad charters its branches and is heavily involved in staffing them; the OU is actually ‘hired’ by its members.
-Chabad’s shluchim tend to be less independent-minded than the rabbis of OU shuls.
-Chabad’s raison d’etre is the support of its branches; the OU has many other items on its agenda.

Because of these differences, I don’t think it would be worthwhile for the OU to put together canned divrei torah/articles or canned projects in the way that Chabad does for its shluchim.

But when it comes to simply merging our purchasing power or creating handy Yom Tov guides, I think that would be a do-able and worthwhile project. It's a job for one part-time staffer - and I would bet that the guide-creation could be done by willing volunteer rabbis, since we already create so much material like that for ourselves.

If I’m wrong, I’d love to hear why. If I’m right… then how about it?

The Mussar in Being Late to the Gym

2008-01-07T16:29:00.000-05:00

This morning I was late for my workout, and the experience was incredibly rewarding.

I usually wake up at 4:45 AM, to make it to the gym shortly after 5. It’s part of my regular routine and I’ve got it down pat… but this morning, something went wrong. The alarm went off, and I looked at the clock and said to myself, “Why did I set that so early? I don’t need to be up for minyan for over an hour!” And I re-set the clock for later, and went back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, I woke up with a start and realized what I had done. I was annoyed; my workout does a lot for me psychologically as well as physiologically. I quickly calculated that I could cut out a couple of other items from my pre-minyan routine and have enough time for most of the workout, so I launched myself from bed, threw on my gear, and headed to the gym.

I was completely disoriented when I arrived at the gym, so much so that I turned on the car radio to make sure it was Monday. There were over a hundred cars in the lot – when I arrive, there are usually only 15-20! But I was late, late enough that many other people were there already.

I entered, dropped my coat and began my regular routine, but felt too rushed. I cut down on the number of reps for each exercise, but it didn't help the feeling of having to race through everything. I was unfocussed, I couldn’t concentrate - and the result was that I couldn’t lift as much as usual. I felt incredibly weak.

I could feel people watching me, this scowling person moving quickly through this half-hearted, clearly ineffective workout.

Frustrated, I skipped a couple of my usual machines and tried to pull my mind and body together enough to do just a few things right, but even that didn’t help.

I left in a disgruntled cloud.

And then I remembered my pre-rabbinic years, and all the times in MTA, in YU, during vacations, when I would come to shul late. I would come in at Mizmor Shir and start putting on tefillin… and often those were fast minyanim, so that I had to content myself with Berachos, Baruch she’Amar, Ashrei and a Hallelukah and maybe Baruch HaShem l’Olam before Yishtabach.

And you know what? Those late, abbreviated minyanim never bothered me the way my abbreviated workout this morning bothered me. I never felt like I had been cheated, like I had done less and achieved less. I just did it.

I imagine the people I see come to shul late are like that; they don’t feel the impact of rushing through the davening, skipping half of Psukei d’Zimra in order to catch up.

But now I know how I should have felt, all of those years. One day I’ll turn this into a mussar shmooze in shul and try to help others feel the same.

Shabbos morning youth groups: Asset or Albatross?

2008-01-05T20:15:00.001-05:00

One of the biggest drains on a shul is the Shabbos morning youth program. It’s expensive, it requires serious coordination time and effort, it needs dedicated space, a lot of advertising… overall, it’s a big burden for a shul.

On the other hand: Shabbos morning youth groups, done right, are the greatest asset a shul can have. Better than a great rabbi, better than a smoothly functioning board, better than a refurbished social hall, better than a huge endowment.

What does the “done wrong” albatross look like?
A program geared toward providing simple babysitting, keeping the kids out of their parents’ hair until davening (or at least Musaf Shmoneh Esreih) is over, no matter what the kids are doing. Success is measured by the physical survival of the children and facility.

What does the “done right” asset look like?
To me: A program geared toward educating children and welcoming them into the shul enviroment in a fun and positive way.

For each community this looks different, but I would include:
-Creating an age-appropriate program that complements the davening and general Judaic education the children receive in school
-Helping children form cohesive social relationships and positive friendships
-Employing group leaders who are true Judaic and social role models for the children

The albatross version scares off shul-serious families with young children, drains your budget, annoys the parents of youth leaders, sucks up your programming energy and inculcates bad shul habits into your children.

On the other hand, the asset version attracts shul-serious families with young children, draws donations from people who view it as a good tzedakah investment, creates a positive shul environment which affects even the adults, and trains your children to become productive shul participants.

There are a few major obstacles to assembling a strong Youth program, but their effects can be overcome, or at least mitigated. Here are a few problems, and suggested solutions:

Budget
Problem:
Some shul board members complain about their Youth budgets, because the Youth program will never earn enough donations to pay for its salaries.
Solution: A wise board has the foresight to mentally include the membership dues of young families as part in the revenue side of the Youth program.

Quality youth leaders
Problem: Smaller communities lack trained personnel to run a solid Judaic program.
Solution: The OU, Young Israel and other organizations have pre-designed programs which leaders can adapt for their own purposes. What’s really needed are leaders with good social and pedagogic skills to implement those programs.

Critical mass of interested children
Problem: If only a few children are interested, the program remains weak and other children who refuse to participate undermine the program from the outside.
Solution: If there simply aren’t enough kids, perhaps a ‘mainstreaming’ program run as part of the adult davening could work. If there are kids, and they just don’t participate, it’s time for people to strong-arm the parents. And yes, I know how hard it is to do that.

As I said at the outset, good Shabbos morning youth groups are a big drain on time and resources. But once you’ve seen them work right, you’ll never regret the investment.

Note: You might also look at a good post on Rechovot, on general synagogue youth programming.

Why Kosher Restaurants Fail

2007-12-31T22:45:00.000-05:00

Note: I’m going to be scaling back on blogging in the next couple of months. I still expect to post twice a week or so, but I’m working on a sefer and want to put some real effort into it, when I can find the moments.

The percentage of general restaurants that fail is very high; the percentage of kosher restaurants that fail is so close to 100% that you couldn’t squeeze a limp Burger Nosh french fry through that gap.

Why do so many Kosher restaurants fail? Three reasons: The owners, the customers, and the food.

The owners: Let’s get real; most kosher restaurants, certainly those outside of New York, are started by people who have already failed in other businesses and who figure that this niche should be an easy hit.

Actual thought process inside a would-be entrepreneur’s head: “Look, they love food. And they for sure want to eat out, who wants to cook every night? And there are no options locally, people have to drive XX minutes to get to the nearest kosher place. I could even do catering. I’ll have them eating out of my hand!”

The result is that these restaurants are run by people with little business acumen, people with no business plan, people who don’t understand in the slightest just how much work they are going to have to put into the place. They often don’t understand the importance of aesthetics, or even basic cleanliness (that “eating out of my hand” reference above is pretty literal). Fresh vegetables? Fresh out of the freezer, maybe. Service with a smile? With a snarl, more like.

The customers: Now we’re really talking the stuff of nightmares.

Actual conversation in a kosher deli:
Customer: There isn’t enough pastrami on this sandwich.
Waiter: It’s a turkey sandwich.
Customer: What, you ain’t never hoid of putting pastrami on a turkey sandwich? They always used to do that in the old kosher delis.
Waiter: You ordered a plain turkey sandwich, and we don’t put pastrami on a plain turkey sandwich.
Customer: Hey, don’t you know the rule, the customer is always right?

Okay, so maybe that’s exaggerated, but not by much. Line-cutting, rudeness to the wait staff (you know, it’s not the waiter’s fault that it takes them forever to prepare your food), kids racing around under the tables, complaints galore…

And, of course, the food.

There’s only so much you can do to kosher food when you are trying to prepare it in large enough bulk to feed a large crowd but not in such a large bulk that you throw 75% of it into the trash.
Cold deli sandwiches are easy, and certain standbys freeze well, but how fancy can you get when you’re expecting five to fifteen people to order a given dish on a given night? In New York you’ll have larger volume, but outside of New York, forget it.

Often, the restaurateurs think they’ll make it by appealing to a non-Jewish clientele as well. “Everyone loves pizza,” they say, neglecting the fact that the sentence really goes, “Everyone loves pizza with treif cheese and an assortment of treif toppings.” Ditto for Middle Eastern, Chinese, TexMex and every other kosher crossover they dream up.
It’s a simple matter of variety, as well as profit margin and economies of scale. Memo to these owners: You. Can’t. Compete. With. Treif.

So there you have it, folks: The Owners, the Customers, and the Food. All of it adds up to lots of failed restaurants, and lots of wannabes in hock up to their eyeballs to pay for their dead ventures.

Hmmm. Come to think of it, we could apply the same principles to why synagogues struggle/fail: The Board/Rabbi, the Congregation, the Davening… something to think about there…

Tom Brady: A real mensch

2007-12-30T10:55:00.000-05:00

Note: Soccer Dad is out with Haveil Havalim #147 here.

Watched the first and fourth quarter of the Patriots/Giants game, and was not disappointed. It’s rare that I get to watch a game, but I’m glad I saw this one; it was action-packed to the end, lots of heroics, a good adrenaline builder. A fun watch - even though I didn't want the Patriots to make that perfect, 16-0 season.

My favorite moment didn’t come during on-field action; it was in the aftermath, when Tom Brady was interviewed about the game. This was before he got to the locker room, before he could have had much time to breathe, let alone think. At this point we were getting as close as possible to his unvarnished, unedited reactions to the game.

The interviewer asked about a key fourth-quarter series of plays. The Patriots were down, and Tom Brady had thrown a long bomb down the right sideline to Randy Moss – who had dropped it. On the next play, Brady, undaunted, had tried the same play again, and this time Moss had caught the ball and scored the go-ahead touchdown. The interviewer asked Brady to comment on going back to Moss after Moss had dropped the first pass.

And Brady’s response, sounding as natural and uncoached as could be, included this aside: “He didn’t drop the ball; I threw a bad pass.”

Now, in truth, it wasn’t a bad pass. It wasn’t 'on the numbers', but it also wasn’t uncatchable by any stretch of the imagination. Even the announcers, who were pro-Moss all evening, described it as a drop. But Brady is a leader – he took responsibility, even to his own detriment, even when that wasn’t the question the reporter was asking in the first place. He protected his receiver, a man of notably fragile ego, by taking the blame.

Is this on the life-and-death level of Yehudah’s “Tzadkah mimeni”? No, of course not. But a superstar playing a game before many millions of people, and earning many millions of dollars for doing it, didn’t need to humbly accept the fall himself. And he chose to shoulder it for himself anyway.

You go, Tom. I’m not a Pats fan, and I rooted for the Giants on principle (if I can’t be perfect, neither can anyone else!), but I tip my yarmulke to you for that interview answer.

Interdenominational smackdown

2007-12-26T11:56:00.000-05:00

From time to time I am solicited to participate in interdenominational panel discussions. My policy is to refuse, for a simple reason: The possible cost does not outweigh the possible benefit.

The benefits:
1. An evening of entertainment;
2. A better understanding of each other;
3. A chance for the audience to hear all sides and decide for themselves.

Don’t get me wrong, these all seem like good reasons for rabbis to sit at a table and tear each others' throats out for an hour before a live studio audience.

But the cost is high: Either the integrity of Orthodoxy or the unity of the Jewish community will pay the price. I will either sell out Orthodoxy or bash everyone else.

Let me unpack that a bit.

Stipulation:
The major self-segregated streams of Judaism – Conservative, Orthodox, Reconstructionist, Reform – are all adamantly different from each other.

Example:
Ask a mainstream Orthodox rabbi why we observe Shabbos, and he’ll tell you it’s because G-d told us to do so.
Ask a mainstream Conservative rabbi and you’ll receive the same answer, although likely with the caveat that various halachot may be overridden by modern needs and views.
Ask a mainstream Reform rabbi and you’ll be told we observe Shabbos because we gain by doing so - witness Eric Yoffie’s declaration at the recent Reform biennial. (Reconstructionism is an entirely different ballgame; I find that one cannot easily typecast the “mainstream” of Reconstructionism, so I’ll leave that one alone.)

Now, Shabbat is at the Torah’s foundation, tying in to Judaism’s most basic beliefs about Gd and the universe and mentioned several times biblically. Shabbat observance is cited in the Talmud (Chullin 5a) as the very definition of observance, along with rejection of idolatry. And each of these major approaches to Judaism and Torah charts its own path on this most basic mitzvah.

Given this wealth of diversity regarding such a basic Jewish issue, how much greater is the diversity on less-fundamental issues? And so, there is little room for panel participants to agree with each other; even though we do have much in common, the discussion is generally about our disagreements.

So we enter our debate, and one of two things happens:
1. I am respectful of the others’ views, leading onlookers to assume I think all opinions are equally viable, or
2. I go Rambo and tear down opposing views, in establishing my own.
The cost of the former is the integrity of Orthodoxy; the cost of the latter is Jewish unity.

So you’ll have to find your entertainment elsewhere, we’ll have to come to understand each other by hearing individual presentations rather than debates, and people will have to make their decisions on some basis other than debates.

Debates? Not for me.

Memo: Rabbis enjoy attention

2007-12-24T13:28:00.000-05:00

Note: My birthday is not near. I’ve been waiting for months to post on this, but I've pushed it off as other topics have come up.

True, I moan about being constantly on display, and I whine occasionally about my lack of privacy. On the other hand, if I truly wanted to be left alone I wouldn’t be a rabbi, would I?

My appreciation of attention comes through once a year, as my birthday nears, and I encounter the Party Problem.

The Party Problem: My sainted, wonderful, amazing rebbetzin wife has just one flaw: She refuses to make a big deal out of my birthday. Part of that is because she knows my fear of aging, so she figures she won’t do anything for the occasion, but let it slide on by. Part of it is probably that she thinks the whole birthday fetish is absurd; she's a very practical-minded person. And, of course, the biggest part of it is my own pride, which keeps me from requesting the celebration of another year’s passage in the life of RWAC.

So as the day nears each year my anxiety builds, as I wonder whether this will be the year when she reads my mind and realizes I would appreciate being feted. A surprise party, perhaps, maybe some friends and a cake? I read into little signs; she suddenly has to go out at night, and she says it’s to take someone to mikvah, but who knows? She could be going to the party store.

I don’t peek into the way back of our refrigerator, lest I notice a cake hiding there. I assiduously avoid mentioning the birthday to our kids, lest one of them accidentally spill the beans. I schedule my normal classes and meetings, and wait.

And the day goes by, hour by hour. Relatives call to wish me a happy birthday, always much appreciated. My office manager also offers good wishes. Sometimes I get a card or two from relatives who spare the time and attention and money…

…and that’s it, for another year.

I don’t feel pathetic for wanting a party; it’s normal to enjoy others’ positive attention and their statement that they value you Sure, I already know I matter to lots of people, but still - it’s different to have people rearrange their lives to make and attend a party.

I don’t feel pathetic for refusing to tell my wife, either; what good is it to have a party if you have to ask for it? (besides… she reads the blog…)

But there is one thing I have learned from my party jealousy - I’ve learned to make “parties” for others. That doesn’t mean full-scale celebrations, but I make sure to drop in on people every so often, not necessarily on a birthday or at some special time, electronically or verbally or in person, and so let them know I value them.

Black-Hatted Travel

2007-12-23T00:03:00.000-05:00

It's been a very long few days; I'm in the mood for trivialities. So, with that in mind, here is a post about nothing: The difficulty of traveling with a hat.

I don't fly much, first because I don't travel much and second because the preparations are such an unwieldy mess that I'd rather walk than fly:

Plan your flight weeks in advance, picking specific dates and times which you can't change at the last minute without taking out a mortgage? For a rabbi, this is pretty much impossible; deaths, hospitalizations, and Gd-knows what else, come up at the last minute and make schedule-changes the norm.

Pack only small bags as carry-on to avoid luggage mis-handling and mis-direction? I'd much rather drive and have the luxury of fitting in pretty much whatever I want. Not to mention, I can then have little things like a nail clipper, spray deodorant, toothpaste, etc.

Squeeze into a tiny seat next to someone who seems to have been observing shiva for the past three months, based on his shower-free natural body odor, and sit there for hours, all while waiting for the plane to lift off the tarmac? Sure.

So I go by car, or if need be by train. When I do fly, though, I face the Hat dilemma. How do you handle a Borsalino on a long flight?

Wearing the chapeau is not preferred; "hat hair" is guaranteed, and it makes you sweat. Further, it makes the other passengers uncomfortable; they tend to look over not-so-subtly every few minutes, trying to figure out what cult your headgear represents.

Putting a hat in the overhead bin is certainly not a good option; items tend to shift while the plane is in flight, as they say. If you want a felt frisbee, that's the way to go. Otherwise... find another way.

So I end up balancing the hat on my lap and on the fold-down table - not the best choice, but generally the only choice.

Let's not overestimate the trouble, though; there are a few positive points-
1. I can use my hat as a pencil holder;
2. It's better than having to carry my wife's hat box;
3. No barf bag? No problem.

So if you see someone wearing a Borsalino on a plane, here's my advice:
A. Don't stare at him;
B. Walk up close to him and whisper, "Try your lap, instead of your head."
C. If you feel nauseous, go for it. No need to ask first; he'll understand.

Hug the Rav haMachshir

2007-12-19T10:03:00.000-05:00

If anything could have persuaded me to leave the rabbinate, it would have been the several years I was responsible to serve as Rav haMachshir (certifying authority) for a small, non-metropolitan kosher certification. This was, without a doubt, the worst nightmare of my entire rabbinic career.

I could devote an entire blog to this and have enough posts for several years – it was that involved and that bizarre an experience. I can’t understand how I managed it as long as I did.

The problem, in a nutshell: When you supervise Kosher certification, you are working against many of your clients, many of your consumers and many of your Mashgichim (on-site supervisors). [And all of this has nothing to do with the financial end of running a vaad hakashrus; don’t get me started on that.]

Clients
Sure, the business owner comes to you with a smile and a request for certification, and perhaps some business owners are even sincerely interested in helping the Jewish community, but many/most of them are simply in this for cold business purposes: the benefit of reaching the kosher consumer. They have little desire to invest anything in the cost.

This means that you, as certifier, spend significant time hearing, “Can we do it that way instead of this way,” “I have a cousin who runs a kosher business and his rabbi lets him do it that way,” “You can trust me not to mess this up,” “Why do you need to visit that often,” “What could be wrong with this ingredient,” “I’ll get you that Schedule A soon,” etc.

If you decide not to certify the business, you are the victim of communal lashon hara from people who remember the last rabbi, who certified what they are certain was an identical business in an identical situation. And, of course, you hear from the people who spoke to the business owner and heard from him just how rigid and intractable you are.

If you do decide to certify the business, you then spend your nights lying awake in bed, wondering what you might have missed, and what your on-site Mashgichim aren’t catching.

Consumers
The consumers aren’t much of a treat, either. Aside from the ones mentioned above who complain about the businesses you don’t certify (“Hey rabbi, that vegetarian place would be easy to certify! What could be wrong with lettuce?”), you have to deal with the ones who complain about the businesses you do certify.

Some people think you are responsible for quality control. “That challah is too dry.” “Why don’t you tell them to bake it for a shorter period of time.” “They didn’t have enough hamantaschen for Purim this year, and they put them out too late.” Aside from the fact that our businesses wisely ignored most of our supervisors’ advice, people should realize that quality control isn’t really in the certifiers’ bailiwick.

Some think kashrut is all politics. “I know the Albania-K is really fine, my cousin is a rabbi and he told me all about how these things revolve around politics.” “I know the Hexagon-K is fine; he just went to the wrong yeshiva.”

And there's the alleged shift to the right, too, alleged by people who don't spend the time to actually investigate the topics they are discussing: "I've never seen a bug in lettuce," "My bubbe ate strawberries without washing them, let alone examining them," " “Glatt, shmatt; it was good enough for my grandmother, it’s good enough for me.”

And let’s not forget the consumers who are passing through the area, see your name on the Teudah (certificate of supervision) and call you, seeking to somehow vet your bona fides over the phone. What they really want to know is, “Can I trust that you know what you are doing,” so what they ask is something like, “I was just passing through here and I stopped in and saw your name on this sign. It sounds familiar; did you go to yeshiva with my neighbor’s cousin’s chavrusa X, at Yeshiva Y? No? Oh, I was sure you did. Where did you go, then?”

Mashgichim
Sad to say, you are also working against your mashgichim.

I’m not going to discuss my own mashgichim, in case my identity ever becomes known, but I will discuss the general issues one can encounter:
Mashgichim who don’t do their jobs, because they think they know better;
Mashgichim who don’t know how to relate to the workers at their businesses;
Mashgichim who take food for themselves with a wink and a nod at horrified workers;
Mashgichim who never want to pull a hashgachah (certification);
Mashgichim who always want to pull a hashgachah.

And, bottom line, you’re always working against the mashgiach anyway, because either you ar adding a business, which means adding more work, or you are dropping a business, which could ultimately result in a drop in salary.

So please – particularly if you live in a non-metropolitan Jewish community – find your Rav haMachshir and give him a verbal hug; he can probably use it.

The Persian Gulf, Darfur and Steroids walk into a bar. Who gets served first?

2007-12-18T10:00:00.000-05:00

Let’s see:
The Persian Gulf is still the scene of daily carnage;
The Middle East is a mess beyond compare;
People are still suffering in Darfur;
Climate change (whether human-engineered or not) is altering entire ecosystems;
Millions of children in the richest country on earth live below the poverty line, and go hungry regularly;
Children are kidnapped and raped and killed in this country on a daily basis;
Gas prices are through the roof, hurting blue collar workers, small business owners and even large corporations in myriad ways;
The stock market is going to crash early next year, according to many if not most commentators;

…and we’re worried about Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds and the legitimacy of a few baseball records?

People have asked me whether I’m going to devote a drasha to steroids. The answer is NO. But I will devote a rant to it:

How many hundreds (thousands?) of hours has the United States Congress spent on this issue?
How many serious minds, like that of former Senator George Mitchell, have spent how many hours on this issue?
How much public attention has been invested in this issue?

On days when I’m in a bad mood (no, not every day), I sit at certain meetings wondering why I am spending an hour or two hours of my life sitting there. You know the meetings I mean – the community-organization meetings at which I play no real role other than to show that I am interested in the goings-on and results.

Yes, I know I belong at those meetings and I am doing “important things” by being involved, but it still gets to me. How many hours do I have left in this world, that I’m going the waste the next 90 minutes in this room?

Well, now we have the steroids scandal, and hour upon important hour is devoted to this nonsense. It’s a GAME, folks. A GAME.

Entertainment is important. Social releases are important. But when the hobbies take permanent residence on the front page, it's time to wonder.

You might as well change the rules to permit performance enhancement, so as to level the playing field and let them all dose themselves to death if they so choose. Or change the rules to test the players before, during and after every single game, practice and press conference. But quit wasting time discussing this.

I’d like to look at this as a noble (or at least justifiable) pursuit, and say it’s not about the Baseball part, at all.
-It’s about the ethics of paying players to harm themselves.
-It’s about having these players as role models for our kids.
-It’s about honesty vs. fraud, regardless of the sports context.

But, in truth, I don’t think that’s the issue here. I think it’s simply that talking about steroids is a whole lot less painful than talking about Darfur. Thinking about baseball is a lot less demanding than pondering climate change. Blaming the celebrity “them” is a lot easier than identifying blame in the Middle East.

But this we know: The cost of failure in handling the steroids crisis is going to be a lot lower than the cost of failure in Darfur, the environment, and the Middle East. So maybe it’s time we moved steroids to the sports section, what do you say?

[end rant]

Accepting Alternative Lifestyles

2007-12-16T20:51:00.000-05:00

Housekeeping first:
Thank you to Soccer Dad for this week’s Haveil Havalim!

And in line with last week’s post on the White House Chanukah Celebration, here are some more articles on that feast:
Chanukah at the Bushes - OU
My Trip to the White House Chanukah Party - An entry from a new blog, from my friend Rabbi Mordechai Torczyner
My White House Chanukah - Cross Currents
A White (House) Chanukah - Jewish World Review
The White House Menorah - Boston Globe

And now, on to alternative lifestyles.

No, not specifically those alternative lifestyles - I’m talking about all of the multifarious ways in which people’s approaches to life differ.

At the barber last week, I was in queue (I love that word, it makes me feel so sophisticated) behind two children. I’d guess their ages at 6 and 3, respectively. Their mother, by all appearances, was a sane and sober human being, granted that she was juggling two kids whose vocabulary seemed to be limited to epithets for private bodily functions.

One of the chairs opened up, and it was the six-year-old’s turn. He immediately began crying at the top of his lungs, refusing to enter the chair. The barber, who seemed to know the family well, picked him up and put him in the chair. The mother angrily if ineffectually ordered her son not to cry; the barber did the same, with the same results. The child refused to let the barber fasten the smock around his neck.

The barber and mother responded to the child by arguing sarcastically, and then by pointing to the younger child, who was now entering another chair perfectly calmly. The barber insulted the child; the mother seconded the insult. The barber pretended to call the child’s father, and told the child that his father had said it would be okay to “put him in a headlock” to get him to cooperate.

This went on for about fifteen minutes; finally, the child ran out of steam, and the haircut proceeded.

I was horrified, but I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t physical abuse, and it wasn’t really what I could call verbal abuse, although I can’t see how the parent/barber approach would inculcate self-esteem, communication skills and a positive attitude, the sort of things I’d like to introduce into my children’s life. I wanted to suggest some positive way for them to handle the child, but had no idea how well it might work, or how my advice might be received.

(Note to anyone who says she might have just been a parent at the end of her rope after a hard day or days - The kids’ language before their turns in the chair, the mother’s language, the fact that the barber knew he could make that pretend-call to the father, all indicate otherwise. This was likely part of an established pattern.)

The situation reminded me of a meeting I attended several years back. I sit on an ethics committee counseling in-home healthcare nurses, and one of the nurses told us about a home she had visited, in which she had found piles of filthy clothing, the linens were rarely changed, the house smelled, there was trash in the kitchen, dirty dishes filled the sink, etc. The patient was in a state of not-quite neglect; there were no bedsores, and nutrition was being provided (if somewhat sloppily), but the overall situation just didn’t seem healthy. We were asked to weigh the advisability of intervention.

The committee chair counseled that we really cannot judge how other people choose to live their lives; there is a range of acceptable alternative lifestyles. The home conditions were not beyond the bounds of safe human existence, even if they weren’t what we would choose, and so we had no grounds to intervene.

That’s how I feel about the barber situation; I don’t know what else goes on with those kids, but I can tell that their environment - day-to-day language and entertainment, at least - isn’t what I would provide for my own children. And yet, I felt I had no grounds to intervene.

The Torah provides two mechanisms for direct intervention in others’ lives:
1) Lo Taamod al dam reiecha, don’t stand by your brother’s blood, but rather intervene to save him.
But do I really know that this approach is going to harm the child for life? And even if I do, what sort of action should I take to save the child?
2) Tochachah, rebuke, which we’ve discussed many times before.
But where was there room for tochachah? Would my words have done anything other than earn that child sterner treatment after they left the barber shop? I think not.

There is no happy ending to this story. The kids finished their haircuts and left. I had my turn in the chair and left. I doubt I’ll ever see the mother again. I actually do see the barber some days at the gym, but I can’t think of anything I might tell him. It looks like I just have to accept what the head of the ethics committee said: There are such things as alternative lifestyles.

I want to be Batman and save the world… but some days, I don’t have the slightest clue how.

The Mad Lib Eulogy

2007-12-14T09:04:00.000-05:00

Warning: Extremely poor taste and funeral-related humor below.

I know what it means to deal with a lot of funerals – we’ve hit a busy season again lately. Nonetheless, I have no patience for canned, formulaic, unimaginative, dry-as-the-Sahara rabbinic eulogies; listening to them embarrasses me, as a rabbi.

The Gemara says that a eulogy is supposed to induce tears; this is why we don’t offer true eulogies during periods of national celebration. It certainly shouldn't put people to sleep.

Herewith the words of the RCA Lifecycle HaMadrikh, 1995 edition, on the value of a good eulogy: “It must be a heartfelt lament of the great loss that is felt by family and friends, through conveying a true refletion of the deeds and virtues of the deceased.”

So what do you do if you don’t know the deceased, or even the family? Find Out. Talk to them (the family, not the deceased). Talk to their friends. Talk to your shul president. But find something out.

What if everyone hates the person? Yes, I’ve had those. So speak more generally, perhaps focusing on the family itself.

What if the person was an utter recluse? I’ve had the case of people who were developmentally disabled and had little-to-no social interaction… but there is always something to be said.

To demonstrate the barebones, formula eulogy that is frustrating me, I am going to visit the outer limits of taste… and beyond. I will herewith provide the ultimate in poor funeral taste - The Mad Lib Eulogy – in order to demonstrate what really riles me.

First, before you look at the eulogy text below, come up with the following terms. Go ahead, try it:

(1) A Name
(2) An Adjective
(3) A Year
(4) A 20th century tragedy
(5) An Emotion
(6) An Adjective
(7) An Adjective
(8) An Adjective
(9) A Nationality
(10) A Relation
(11) A Relation
(12) An Emotion
(13) A Hobby
(14) A Figure from the Torah
(15) A Relation
(16) One of the sacred books of Judaism

Here, then, is a result showing the kind of boiled-out, pareve boilerplate I despise:
(1) John was a (2) menschlich person his entire life. Born in (3) 1939, in the middle of (4) the Holocaust, he knew the meaning of (5) sadness. Despite challenges, he developed into a (6) kind human being, a (7) good friend and a (8) supportive son to his (9) Belgian parents.

(1) John was a good (10) son, but his greatest affection was reserved for his (11) children, in whose presence he was always (12) happy. He enjoyed (13) fishing with them, whenever he had time.

(1) John’s love for his (11) children is reminiscent of the love displayed by (14) Avraham for his (15) son. The (16) Midrash tells us that (14) Avraham displayed the greatest love for a (15) son that anyone has ever known – and (1) John built his life around that model.

Even as we mourn (1) John's passing, let us also be grateful for the years we had with him, and for his love for his (11) children. May it be a model for us and for our children, and may his memory be a blessing for us all.

And here is a somewhat-less-serious result:
(1) John was a (2) green person his entire life. Born in (3) the Year of the Monkey, in the middle of the (4) Hindenburg Disaster, he knew the meaning of (5) ennui. Despite challenges, he developed into a (6) stringy human being, an (7) absorbent friend and a (8) pungent son to his (9) Mongolian parents.

(1) John was a good (10) cousin, but his greatest affection was reserved for his (11) stepmother, in whose presence he was always (12) agitated. He enjoyed (13) making tortillas with her, whenever he had time.

(1) John’s love for his (11) stepmother is reminiscent of the love displayed by (14) Lot for his (15) family dog. The (16) Zohar tells us that (14) Lot displayed the greatest love for a (15) family dog that anyone has ever known – and (1) John built his life around that model.

Even as we mourn (1) John’s passing, let us also be grateful for the years we had with him, and for his love for his (11) stepmother. May it be a model for us and for our children, and may his memory be a blessing for us all.

Try it out, and send in your results.

Feel free to expand this to Chuppah speeches, Bar/Bat Mitzvah speeches, etc. The only requirement is that you read them aloud in a rabbinical sing-song, punctuated appropriately with sighs and smiles along the way.

[end rant]

“Flipping Out” - A Worthwhile First Effort

2007-12-12T15:04:00.000-05:00

Picked up a copy of “Flipping Out - Myth or Fact: The Impact of the Year in Israel,” the new offering by Gil Student’s Yashar Books, and gave it a quick read. (I should also note that Yeshiva University’s S. Daniel Abraham Israel Program sponsored production of this book.)

My feeling, after some reflection, is that this is a worthwhile first effort at understanding the issues of teenage metamorphosis in Israel, and its role in the perceived "shift to the right" in the American Jewish community.

My favorite part is YU President Richard Joel’s introduction, in which he notes that the period of study in Israel, however long or short, should be planned and executed as part of a young student’s educational continuum. This means, of course, that parents and students ought to do their due diligence in choosing a school, but it also means that the goals/timeframe/outcome for this program should be clear, and that this is neither the pinnacle nor the termination of a student’s Torah growth. Such a view helps the student grow properly through the experience.

The three central parts of the book are of varying focus and tone; the first two-thirds attend to issues of change in Israel, while the final third turns to American Zionism and Aliyah.

The First Third: The Impact of Post-High School Study in Israel
Rabbi Dr. Shalom Z. Berger authored the first third, focussing on data from sociological studies on the changes undergone by American students in Israel. I found the numbers interesting, although I would have liked a more detailed explanation of method, particularly the “factor analysis” approach to interpreting answers.

Rabbi Berger’s main find seems to be that day-school graduates in Israel programs change more lastingly than secular students attending year-abroad sojourns, and that the changes tend to be consistent with the ideals taught in day school.

This section could have used some tighter editing, but the overall result is an interesting study, especially for those who like numbers.

The Second Third: Psychological Perspectives on Change During the Year in Israel
Rabbi Dr. Daniel Jacobson wrote the second third, analyzing the psychological/emotional/sociological factors which influence religious change. This is the part I enjoyed most, as it provided, for me, the most direct food for thought.

Rabbi Jacobson’s points include a cogent distinction between “inspired changers” and “distressed changers,” a look at radical growth vs. intensification of existing traits, and an emphasis on parental communication before, during and after the Israel experience. I came away wanting to read much more of Kenneth Pargament’s work, cited liberally and effectively by Rabbi Jacobson.

If I have any complaints with the second third, it’s (1) that the writing really could have used more editing to make it an easier, non-technical read. (In other words: Dumb it down for me, please.), and (2) that, as the author notes, the information is really reflective of male study in Israel, not women’s study.

The Third Third: American Orthodoxy, Zionism and Israel
Dr. Chaim Waxman provides a fascinating historical read in the third part of the book, looking at the evolution of Zionism and Aliyah in America.

Some of the history in this section was new to me, and I enjoyed the brief insights into the way Israel programs have impacted Aliyah. The writing here was the best in the book; it flows very well, and eschews jargon in favor of well-written prose. Too, Dr. Waxman does an excellent job of collecting the factors that encourage and discourage Aliyah.

My only complaint is that this section really didn’t seem to fit in this book; the notes about change in Israel and its effect on American Judaism (pg. 168-9) are disappointingly brief and don’t match the depth of the rest of Dr. Waxman’s analysis.

Overall, then, I would recommend this book as a start to addressing the very real, very pressing issues facing parents and students before, during and after the Year in Israel. In a follow-up, work, though, I would like to see the following:

1. A section of hard, specific advice, general enough to fit most situations but specific enough to be helpful.
2. A stronger focus on women’s studies in Israel, perhaps bolstered with the results of Dr. David Pelcovitz’s study, not yet complete, of women’s experiences.
3. A section looking at the goals of the Israel experience from the perspective of the schools themselves.

Good job, Gil; I look forward to Volume Two.

Achashverosh’s White House Chanukah Party?

2007-12-11T10:11:00.000-05:00

Managed to get a few moles into the White House Chanukah Party last night, and it was well worth it.

First, the gossip column:
All sorts of Jewish celebrities were present. Aside from the family of Daniel Pearl הי"ד, who were there for a special pre-party lighting and stayed at the White House overnight, there were plenty of big names present. Malcolm Hoenlein and Senator Lieberman were spotted. I’m told there were Vizhnitzers and Satmar present, as well as a few Chabadniks, including the famous Rabbi Levi Shemtov.

Among the OU/RCA community, the IPA’s Nathan Diament was very visible, as were several OU/RCA synagogue rabbis, including the illustrious Rabbi Yaakov and Peshe Neuberger. Nachum Segal, of “JM in the AM” fame, was spotted there as well.

The food is reported to have been excellent – sushi, lamb chops (yes, fish and meat on the same buffet), meat, lots of desserts. All under two hashgachos, Lubavitch and a fellow from Bergen County. All the food was served without knives, I should note, presumably for three reasons:
1. Security;
2. The difficulty of kashering knives when the staff won't let you stab them into the dirt in the Rose Garden to clean them;
3. To give a good laugh to the protocol officers watching people try to eat without cutting implements.

But now down to tachlis:
How does this Chanukah Party differ from Achashverosh’s party, described in Megilah 12a?

In that discussion, the Gemara says that the Jews of the time of Purim were liable for destruction because they attended Achashverosh’s party, even though the commentators note that the food was kosher, and even though the gemara says the Jews only attended out of fear of what would happen if they refused to attend!

(And no, this isn’t just sour grapes over not being personally invited…)

After some thought, I might offer two differences:
1. Rabban Shimon bar Yochai is the author of that condemnatory statement nin Megilah 12a. Rabban Shimon bar Yochai is known for his position that all pursuits outside of Talmud Torah are to be shunned; one should not even work for his living, but rather one should depend on G-d for support. So, perhaps, this comment about the feast of Achashverosh, and about not attending even for political purposes, is consistent with the Rashbi’s view that such parties, and such political activism in general, are worse than worthless. We don't seem to pasken like Rashbi, as the gemara in Berachos notes.

2. Additionally: The Gemara notes that Achashverosh’s meal was a celebration of the fall of Jerusalem, and the captivity of the Jews. Perhaps this is why attending that meal was so heinous. The White House party last night, on the other hand, was a celebration of the resurgence of the Jewish community, its survival and its strength, such that the leader of the free world considers it worth his while to celebrate Chanukah and to invite hundreds of Jewish leaders to shake his hand and smile for a photo with him.

Those are my thoughts, at any rate; feel free to suggest others, as always.

After the Federation, le déluge

2007-12-09T18:53:00.000-05:00

The signs of the demise of the Federation/UJC/UJA system are everywhere, commented upon so ubiquitously in recent years that they have become cliché:
The rise of donor preference for earmarking,
the rise of transparency and the shunning of overhead,
the rise of news sources and business education and informed donation,
the rise of local causes,
the rise of small-scale, donor-directed endowments, a wave UJC is attempting to ride too late,
the rise of universalist philanthropy among Jewish donors.
All of these and more have generated this philanthropic commonplace: Umbrella philanthropy is dead.

I believe it. I think it will take many years for this dance of death to play itself out, given the size of many Federation endowment funds. I predict it will be a layered demise, affecting Israel, the Former Soviet Union, other international needs and local needs in different ways and at different paces in the next few decades. But it will happen – and I’m scared of what will come next.

I see three major problems: A Blizzard of envelopes, the Death of small local agencies, and the Disappearance of supporting services.

First, and most obvious, the blizzard of envelopes.

Currently, Federations keep many local community institutions in fundraising check, paying them off with annual allocations to keep them from running fundraising drives that might compete with the Federation campaign. This, though, will end with the demise of the campaign itself.

The result will be small fundraising campaigns galore, for everything from Hillels to Jewish Family Services to Jewish Scout troops to JCCs to Mikvaot to immigrant re-settlement programs to local Holocaust museums to you name it, everything currently supported by your Federation dollar.

This, in turn, will lead to the second problem: The demise of many small agencies.

Donors will not give to every one of the causes which will suddenly be at their door. Further, the age of earmarking will mean that donors will target those causes they like best, and other causes will be left out in the cold. Hillels will do all right, if their alumni networks are strong. The observant community, I hope, will support local vaadim and their various arms. JCCs are doomed anyway, in most parts of North America, even with Federation help. And Jewish Family Service, a scout troop? Lots of luck, folks.

And then the third problem: The supporting services.

Does your Federation currently run a community newspaper, advertising programs from around the community, bringing people together and unifying the community?

Does your Federation have a Community Relations Council, offering a response to anti-Semitism and to biased media coverage of Israel?

Does your Federation do demographic studies, analyzing the needs of the community?

Does your Federation maintain a community calendar, so that organizations plan events without competing grossly with each other?

Does your Federation counsel synagogues on their endowments?

All of that will be gone. And who will replace it?

I am seriously worried about what’s coming down the pike, folks. The umbrella philanthropies are, I believe, in their last decades; it’s time for us to plan for the next step.

Bronfman idea, anyone?