Posted tagged ‘Midwest’

Terrorism Today: Up Close and Personal

November 8, 2010

In August of 1970, at Kennedy Airport in New York, I boarded a plane headed for Israel.  I was not alone.  There were about 60 other young men, some with wives, who boarded that plane with me.  All of us were headed to Jerusalem, where we would be the first full class of rabbinic students from the Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion who would spend their entire first year of study in Israel.  With us as well was a handful of upper classmen who had taken it upon themselves to enhance their own rabbinic studies by spending a year in Israel.

Two of the young men aboard that flight were Lawrence Edwards and Michael Zedek.  After the year in Israel, Larry would be among those who joined me in continuing our rabbinic studies at the New York campus.  After ordination we lost touch with each other until the summer of 2008, when we found ourselves together again in Washington, D.C.; the only rabbis invited to participate in a week-long seminar hosted by the Church Relations Department of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.  It was a great feeling to renew our old ties.  Michael was one of those upper classmen I spoke about.  Sunday afternoons in Jerusalem usually found me in the school library, struggling with researching a major theology paper upon which a significant part of my future as a student in the school would hang.  On one such afternoon, I felt the need to have my work reviewed by a neutral but informed party.  I looked around the room in search of one of those upper classmen, and there was Michael.  Up until then, our relationship had been cordial.  Yet in the course of that afternoon it evolved from cordial to friendship. While after Israel, Michael would return to his studies in Cincinnati, our friendship would continue and flourish.

Considering my ties to both of these men, one can imagine how taken aback I was when I read the news of the recent Yemenite terrorist plot to send a mail bomb to a Chicago synagogue, only to learn that the rabbi of the targeted congregation is none other than Rabbi Larry Edwards, and that his congregation, which has no home of its own, is hosted by a larger congregation whose rabbi is none other than Rabbi Michael Zedek.  All this is only compounded by the fact that this might very well be the first time pro-Palestinian terrorists have targeted a Midwest synagogue, nevertheless one that is a mere two and a half hours away from my home.

For many years, I have been one of those who have taken the threat of terrorism to Jewish institutions very seriously.  I believe that there are forces out there that truly have it in for the Jews and that as a result, Jews and Jewish institutions find themselves more at risk than others.  It has been 11 years since the infamous “Summer of Hate” (1999), which saw a string of hate crimes perpetrated by members of white “Christian” supremacist groups, many of them directed against Jews and Jewish institutions.  Much to my chagrin, for the most part, too many of my fellow Jews have chosen to forget that threat.  It was during those days that my own congregation instituted the practice of engaging off duty police officers to patrol our grounds whenever we held a worship service or our religious school was in session.  Now, every so often, we hear voices raised, questioning the need for such protection.  Indeed, there have been times of late when I feel as though there are those who now perceived of me as an alarmist and perhaps somewhat of a crackpot, if not worse, whenever I speak of such dangerous possibilities.  Even when I point out last year’s attempted bombings of two synagogues in Riverdale, New York, the failed Times Square bombing, and the murder of the security guard at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum by a white supremacist, not to mention the terrorist attacks in Mumbai, India of two years ago which included a Chabad center as one of their targets, I am met with the dismissive responses of, “But that could never happen here.  They would never do that to us.”

So often have my concerns been minimized that I have not been able to help but wonder myself whether or not I have gone somewhat over the top on this issue.  But just when I find myself struggling with my own self doubt, there is an account in the news of another attempt to do mayhem to a Jewish institution by those who hate us, with the recent news of the terrorist attempt, so close to my home, targeting the Chicago congregations served by two of my old friends being just one more example.  In this latest attempted attack, the intended victims are not strangers in some distant city.  They are friends who live and work just down the road from where I live.  Indeed the issue of terrorism and Jew hatred has not been as up close & personal for me since 1993 when Neo-Nazis, in response to the release of the film “Schindler’s List.” sent post cards to my congregation, the local Jewish Federation, the Davenport police and the FBI, threatening to blow up both my home and my synagogue, along with the offices of the Jewish Federation.

I suspect that my friends Larry Edwards and Michael Zedek, and their congregations, never seriously believed that their congregations would be the targets of a terrorist attack.  I am sure that while they entertained the possibility, still they felt that the odds were greatly against it.  That is normal.  In fact, that is how I feel.  While I entertain the possibility that my congregation and the other institutions of my Jewish community someday might be targeted by those who hate Jews, still I believe that the odds are greatly against it.  That being said, that chance – that possibility – no matter how remote, still exists.  It is that possibility, no matter how slight, which should inform the decisions and actions of every synagogue and Jewish institution.  While it should not paralyze us Jews with fear, it should motivate all Jews to take such dangers seriously enough so that we take wise steps to prevent them.  For while as Jews, we should not live in fear, neither should we bury our heads in the sand, denying the possibilities of dangers which may confront us.  In all of this, the Jewish attitude should be “hope for the best but prepare for the worst.”  That is the prudent course to take.  That is the responsible course to take.  For if Jewish institutions choose the path of inaction – the path of failing to defend our people either because of a refusal to accept the possible danger, or worse yet, because considering the odds, they do not wish to incur such expenses – then God forbid, should some ill befall such a Jewish institution, bringing injury and perhaps even death in its wake, then some of the burden of guilt will rest upon the shoulders of those who chose to ignore the possibility of danger as well as upon those of the attackers.

It is a sad thing to have to admit that even though we now live in the 21st century, there is still too much truth to the old Yiddish expression, “Schwer zu zein ein Yid! – It is difficult to be a Jew!”

Advertisements

Temple Emanuel: Looking Toward Our Next 150 Years

September 10, 2010

If you wonder why I have not posted on this blog in some time, the answer is simple:  High Holy Days preparation.  Writing sermons and tending to countless other details prior to the advent of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur occupy nearly the totality of every congregational rabbi’s time.  So in my next few posts, I will be sharing with you the texts of the sermons that I presented to my congregation during the Holy Days.  Below is the text of my Rosh Hashanah Eve sermon.

There are New Years and then there are New Years, and this is certainly a New Year for us here at Temple Emanuel. For us, this Rosh Hashanah not only marks the beginning of the Jewish year of 5771, but it also marks the beginning of the celebration of our 150th anniversary as a congregation.

150 years! That is no small accomplishment. While ours was not the first synagogue established in the state of Iowa – for there were synagogues which preceded ours in both Dubuque and Keokuk – ours is the oldest Jewish congregation in continual existence in the state. Of that we can most justifiably be proud.

We sit here this evening in this fine 57 year old building, which, by the way, was the first house of worship in the Quad Cities which was constructed utilizing the designs of modern architecture. We sit here, not only as a viable but also as a vibrant congregation. There is so much about Temple Emanuel life which we take for granted, as if it was always so. But it was not. What we benefit from and enjoy today was handed down to us as the result of the dedication and labor of so many others who came before us; who strove to make Temple Emanuel possible, nevertheless vital and vibrant. Over the next 13 months, we will be celebrating their gifts to us, as we begin to learn more about our past and rededicate ourselves to the future of the congregation which they bequeathed to us.

Sitting here this evening, considering the life of Temple Emanuel today, let us try to imagine what Jewish life in this community was like for our founders back in 1861. In those days, the total population of Davenport was a meager 500. Of those 500, there were a scant one dozen Jewish families. Most, if not all of them were German Jews who had arrived in this community during the preceding ten years. They came to America, seeking freedom and democracy. They were part of a greater wave of German Jewish immigration that came to our shores fleeing Germany and Austria after the failures of the liberal revolutions of 1848. Yes, even then, Jews were social liberals. In fact, in our congregation today, we have direct descendants of one such famous socially liberal Jewish refugee who didn’t come to our area, but rather to Kansas. His name was August Bondi. Bringing to America his socially liberal values, August Bondi rode with the abolitionist John Brown, only to break with Brown for ethical reasons after the Potowatamy Massacre. Later, he would earn the Congressional Medal of Honor while serving the Union during the Civil War. He earned that honor by risking his life to bring wounded soldiers from both sides off of the battlefield and to safety. Hart Bondi, Greg Schermer, and their children, are his direct descendants. Those early German Jews who settled here, while maybe not as heroic as August Bondi, most certainly shared with him their motivation for coming to this country and their vision of what America should be.

So on Wednesday evening September 4, 1861 – Erev Rosh Hashanah, 5622 – our congregation held its first High Holy Day service. They had no building. They had no rabbi. So the services were led by a knowledgeable Jew by the name of Max Feder. Shortly after that, on October 21, 1861, they formally voted Congregation B’nai Israel into existence.

That’s right, Congregation B’nai Israel. That was, until recently, our original and official name. So where does the name Temple Emanuel come from? Back in 1885, we finally erected our first synagogue building. It was on Ripley Street, between 4th and 5th Avenues. At that time, belonging to our congregation was a very wealthy family by the name of Rothschild. In exchange for a major donation to the building fund, the congregation agreed to name the building after the patriarch of that family, Moses Emanuel Rothschild, who had recently passed away. So originally it was our building which was called Temple Emanuel, but with the passage of time, it was that name that stuck.

So our congregation came into being. Our first Board President was Isaac Berneis, and initially membership dues were a whopping $5.00 a year. Until we built that building in 1885, we rented space in which to meet, our first being a third floor room in a building at 3rd & Perry.

It was not until 1875 that our congregation acquired the services of a rabbi. Our first rabbi was Rabbi Isaac Fall. He served our congregation until 1890, which made him the longest serving rabbi of our congregation until yours truly. He is also the only rabbi buried in Mt. Nebo Cemetery. As part of our anniversary celebration, next October we will be holding a special ceremony at his grave. That ceremony, researched by the Cantor, is called a Hilu La Ceremony.

You might find this hard to believe, but Rabbi Fall was an Orthodox rabbi. That is not as strange as it might seem, considering the fact that in 1875 we were an Orthodox congregation. Granted, we were a liberal Orthodox congregation, but we were Orthodox nonetheless. But even at that time, we were seriously considering change. The Union of American Hebrew Congregations – which today we call the Union for Reform Judaism – the official North American organization of Reform congregations, was founded in 1873. Whether or not our congregation should join it, leave Orthodoxy and officially become a Reform congregation, was the subject of heated debate. It was not until 1879 that we decided to make that move. But even as the congregation voted to join the Reform movement, the president of our congregation at that time, John Ochs – you may have seen the Ochs mausoleum in our cemetery – resigned his post as president because of it.

Nor did the struggle over our Reform identity end with that vote. It went on for many years, painfully dividing our congregation. The planning of the dedication ceremony for our first building was embraced by the proponents of Reform as an opportunity to bring the practices of our congregation closer to their way of thinking. It was in that spirit that the Board voted that no hats were to be worn during the ceremony. They also invited a rabbi from Chicago to deliver the main address, in English. You have to understand. Up until that point, only Hebrew and German were spoken on our bimah. With this act, they introduced the use of English into our service. Later, in August of 1889, the Board voted to affirm the decision of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, to include the counting of women in the minyan.

It should be noted that through all of this, Rabbi Fall tried to be responsive to all his congregants. As an Orthodox rabbi, he demonstrated himself to be extremely flexible and open to the changes proposed by the proponents of Reform. But he was walking a tight rope, with some finding him too open to change and others finding him not open enough to change. Finally, in August of 1890, the Board released him and turned around, engaging the services of their first rabbi who was a graduate of the Hebrew Union College.

Rabbi Samuel Freuder was ordained from the Hebrew Union College in 1886. He came to our community, having previously served a congregation in San Diego. However, his tenure at Temple Emanuel was short lived. He was a living example of the caution, “Beware lest you get what you asked for.” The congregation felt that they wanted someone more progressive than Rabbi Fall, and in Rabbi Freuder they found him. However, Rabbi Freuder went too far in the other direction. As one chronicler put it, whatever was forbidden, he considered permitted. The dissatisfaction with him was so great that in July of 1891, the Board released him. However, you could imagine their dismay when the local newspaper published an article in which Rabbi Freuder announced that he had resigned and was renouncing the Jewish faith altogether.

In our lobby, you will find a handwritten letter to our congregation from Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise, the father of American Reform Judaism; the founding president of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, the founding president of the Hebrew Union College, and the founding president of the Central Conference of American Rabbis. In it he expressed his apologies for not being able to provide us with a student rabbi to conduct our High Holy Day services, but recommended that we contact an unemployed rabbi living in New York. On the surface, this is a very disappointing letter. Indeed, when Joan McGee found that letter in our records, as she was organizing our 125th anniversary celebration, her comment was, “Damned Union! Didn’t do anything for us then and is still not doing anything for us!” However, you have to look at the date – September 12, 1891 – and understand it in our historical context. For obviously, it was after our congregation went through this trauma with Rabbi Freuder, and probably conducted an unsuccessful rabbinic search, that we applied to the Hebrew Union College for a student rabbi for the holy days. But by then, it was too late. All the students had High Holy Day pulpits. This was but another manifestation of how I congregation suffered in the wake of its struggle over its Jewish identity.

That struggle would continue for quite some time, only ultimately finding resolution during the rabbinate of William Fineshriber. Rabbi Fineshriber, a graduate of the Hebrew Union College, came to our community in 1900. It was through his efforts that the old wounds were ultimately healed and it was under his leadership that we finally established ourselves solidly as a Reform congregation, with the formal conclusion of the struggle being our adoption, in 1902, of the UNION PRAYER BOOK, a prayer book which we would worship from, in its various incarnations, until, in the mid 1970’s, when we adopted GATES OF PRAYER, the prayer book which replaced the UNION PRAYER BOOK as the worship text of Reform Judaism.

It was also through Rabbi Fineshriber’s efforts that our congregation seriously embarked upon its mission to pursue social justice causes and to become a voice and a presence for social justice in this community; a mission which we still pursue today, as earlier this evening I testified to, as I called upon you to support our hunger relief efforts. It is not surprising that it was through Rabbi Fineshriber’s social justice efforts that our congregation came to assume a new position of esteem and respect in the eyes of our general community; a position we still hold today, in good part due to our Tikkun Olam efforts.

I share with you these tidbits from the early history of our congregation because we need to know our past in order to appreciate our present and to start to build for our future. History, whether it be world history or American history or Jewish history or the history of our congregation, is not made up of quantum independent moments in time. Rather, it is linear; it is cumulative. Our ancient rabbis understood this all too well when they coined the concept of “Shalshelet HaKabbalah – the Chain of Tradition.” What we are today is due in great part to the gifts bequeathed to us by those who came before us. What comprises the future will be due in great part to the gifts we pass on to those who come after us. Today, we stand as one moment in time along the time line of Temple Emanuel. So much of what we are today as a congregation, whether we realize it or not, is great part owing to those who came before us. What will happen to this congregation, and this Jewish community, in the future, will be due, in great part, to the decisions we make and the actions we take; we, our generation of Temple Emanuelites.

For the first 40 years of its existence, our congregation struggled desperately with issues of its Jewish identity. Should we be a Reform congregation? What does it mean to be a Reform congregation? How much change is not enough? How much change is too much?

Struggling with our Jewish identity as a congregation is not new to this congregation. In fact, it is a very old story as far as Temple Emanuel is concerned. But from that story we must learn important lessons.

Lesson Number One: Openness to change is an intrinsic part of the nature of this congregation, as it is an intrinsic part of the nature of Reform Judaism itself. We should not be afraid of change but neither should we embrace it blindly. Change can be good, but only when it is purposeful and thoughtfully arrived at. Every possible change must be evaluated on its own merits. Is this a change for the good? Will this serve to advance our goal of being a contemporary meaningful expression of Judaism for our congregants? Will this change serve us for the good in the long run, or only in the short run? Will this change stand the test of time? Where will it take us ten years down the road? Twenty years down the road? A hundred & fifty years down the road? On the other hand, are our ties to the past founded upon the innate values of the past or only because the past is comfortable while change is disconcerting? The changes we make today, and the changes we choose not to make today, are the legacies we leave for tomorrow. Before we make them or don’t make them, we need to honestly ask ourselves whether or not this is what we wish to be remembered for.

Lesson Number Two: As the philosopher George Santayana once said, “Those who fail to learn from the past are condemned to repeat it.” The early history of our congregation was a very difficult history – a very painful history – because of the ways in which we dealt with, or failed to deal with successfully, the issues of change. It was a history filled with conflict and controversy. Too many people drew lines. Too many people took sides. As my mother, of blessed memory, was fond of saying, “You can disagree without being disagreeable.” It would appear that our Temple Emanuel forebears did not always appear to grasp that concept, and as a result, the congregation as a whole suffered.

Today, we, too, struggle with questions of change, both within the current life of our congregation, and especially as we consider the possibility of merger with the Tri City Jewish Center. The changes we are considering, and the decisions we will make about them, will most certainly impact the future of this congregation; the next 150 years of Temple Emanuel, or whatever it is we become if we decide to merge. As we grapple with these issues of change, we constantly need to ask ourselves two questions: (1) By making these changes, can we honestly claim that we are remaining true to our past, to our heritage? And (2) By making these changes, can we honestly claim that these are the legacies we wish to bequeath to our children and those who come after us?

As we go about our business, considering the future – the next 150 years – we need to constantly remind ourselves that we can disagree without being disagreeable. We can understand that others hold viewpoints which may differ from ours; viewpoints which may differ greatly from ours. Yet just because they differ from us does not mean that they are wrong. Each and every one of us holds the future of this congregation gently and lovingly within our hearts, within our minds, and within our hands. We all strive to do what we think will be best for our congregation and for its future. Though we may differ on approach, we do not differ on intent. And we need to respect that. We need to respect that though someone may disagree with us, they do so honestly and they do so lovingly when it comes to the Temple. Therefore, even though we may disagree, we need to maintain a respectful dialogue. We need to truly listen to each other; not just listen for the points we can dispute, but listen in order that we can come to understand where each of us is coming from. For only when we develop that groundwork of respectful understanding, can we build from that a successful compromise; a successful consensus; a successful meeting of the minds. And it is in that meeting of the minds that we will find the strongest future for Temple Emanuel. I do not know what that future will be. No one does. But let us explore it together.

Wrestling With Immigration Reform

May 14, 2010

With Arizona’s governor, Jan Brewer, recently signing into law a very restrictive and controversial bill addressing the issue of illegal immigration in that state, the opening shot has been fired on our next major political battlefield – immigration reform.

At first blush, it would appear that the issue of immigration reform is one of those topics around which Americans are united, with the overwhelming majority agreeing across party lines that massive federal immigration reform is both necessary and long overdue.  However, appearances can be deceiving, for such agreement ends right there; with the belief that immigration reform is sorely needed.  Beyond that point, our nation is truly fractured between those who feel that our immigration policies must be liberalized and those who feel that they must be made more severe and be more diligently enforce.  A recent New York Times / CBS News Poll on reactions to the Arizona law indicate that 51% of those polled feel that the law is about right, with 9% saying that it does not go far enough, while 36% feel that it has gone too far and 4% having no opinion.

The new Arizona law obviously is a manifestation of the point of view of those who wish to see more restrictive immigration laws.  No sooner did Governor Brewer sign it into law than we started hearing from several political hopefuls across the land, seeking to gain mileage for their own campaigns by calling for their states to follow Arizona’s example.  Here in Iowa, two of the three candidates for the Republican gubernatorial nomination immediately jumped on that bandwagon.  The third – former governor, Terry Branstad – was not far behind, supporting the concept of sterner immigration laws but cautioning that since we are not a “border” state, we should not try to duplicate the Arizona law but rather tailor one to better meet our state’s particular needs.

It will come as no surprise to those who know me that regarding immigration reform, I fall on the liberal side of this issue.  However, what may come as a surprise to all is that as liberal as I am on this topic, I am not nearly as liberal as many of my fellow liberal allies would like me to be.  I find myself standing in an uncomfortable no man’s land; too liberal for the conservatives among us, and too conservative for the liberals.

So where do I stand?

First of all, I am distressed by the new Arizona law.  I, like all of its critics, fear that in spite of whatever assurances Governor Brewer may offer, still fundamentally, it is a racist law.  No matter how well trained the Arizona police may be, they still will not be able to avoid falling into the trap of racial profiling.  Indeed, the only way that they could avoid such profiling is by stopping and checking everyone’s citizenship credentials – and we all know that is never going to happen.  At the end of the day, the only individuals who they will stop and request documentation from will be Latinos.  That, in and of itself, is a litmus test to the law’s racial bias.  After all, here we see the underlying assumption that the only illegal aliens in our midst are Hispanic.  Could it not be possible that there might also be illegal aliens from Norway or Denmark or England or Italy, or dare I say, that threatening national entity on our northern border – Canada?  Of course there could be!  If there are people from those nations, and others like them, living in our country, it is only logical to assume that some of those people are living here illegally.  Yet to focus these stop-&-searches exclusively on Latinos is just as unjust and racially prejudice as when our nation, during World War II, chose to intern as enemy aliens only those of Japanese descent, and never even considered doing likewise to those of German or Italian descent.

“Absurd!” you may think.  But I turn your attention to a recent movie; “The Proposal.”  Of course this was a romantic comedy, but it did carry a sharp edged message, that message being that not all illegal immigrants need to come from south of the border.  Some can even come from Canada.  Yet when we identify the problems associated with illegal immigration as being solely Latino problems, whether we like to admit it or not, that is racism, pure and simple.

When I consider our current immigration laws, I cannot help but be troubled by how restrictive they are.  Somehow, we have forgotten that we are a nation of immigrants.  All those people who flocked to our shores in the 17th, 18th, 19th and the very beginning of the 20th centuries, who settled this land, founded this nation, and built it to be the world power it is today, were all immigrants or recent descendants of immigrants.  The Puritans at Plymouth Rock were immigrants.  The English in Jamestown and the Dutch in New Amsterdam were all immigrants.  Most Americans today do not have to search far on our family trees to find our immigrant ancestors.  My grandparents came to this country from Russia and the Austro-Hungarian empire at the beginning of the 20th century.  I expect that most of the readers of this blog can claim similar immigrant roots, going back to their great grandparents if not their grandparents.  Today, each and every one of us enjoy all the freedoms and pleasures of living in America because at one time, this country opened its doors to our immigrant ancestors.  In those days, it truly was the land of opportunity; what my Jewish ancestors referred to as Die Goldene Medina, “The Golden Land.”  They came here with nothing or next to nothing, started at the bottom of the social ladder and worked their way up.  It was hard going, but they did it.  They did it, primarily because they were permitted to do it.

But all that changed in the 1920’s.  Many forces coalesced to re-frame American immigration policies and attitudes.  Following World War I there was a renewed interest in isolationism; the desire to cut off America from involvement with the outside world.  As a result, in spite of the fact that President Woodrow Wilson was the primary architect of the League of Nations, our nation chose not to join it.  Then there was the Communist scare.  After the Russian Revolution, there was great fear in this country that the overthrow of America was next on the Communists’ agenda.  That fear was translated into a fear of immigrants being potential Communist agents.  There was even the growing popularity of the racist pseudo-science of eugenics.  In 1916, a man by the name of Madison Grant published a book entitled THE PASSING OF THE GREAT RACE which became  a very popular read in our nation.  This book went through many printings and by 1937 had sold over 1,600,000 copies in our country.  This book espoused the  eugenics racial hygiene theory, as it  proclaimed the superiority of the Northern European races, and warned of the racial threat posed by the admission to our country of people of inferior races.  Then, of course, there was the eternal concern about immigrant workers competing for jobs against “real Americans.”  As a result of these factors and others, in 1921, Congress passed the Immigrant Restriction Act, the goal of which was to maintain the racial balance of our country.  It intended to achieve this by limiting future immigration to a quota of a nation-by-nation maximum of 3% of the number of people from that nation who were living in this country in 1890.  This law was superseded by the more restrictive Immigration Act of 1924, which reduced the quota to 2% and also prohibited the immigration of East Asians.  In 1952, while the Immigration and Nationality Act did abolish the racial restrictions applying to immigration from East Asia, it did affirm the quota system in its 1924 form.  It should be noted that President Harry Truman vetoed the bill, speaking in his veto message of “the cruelty of carrying over into this year of 1952 the isolationist limitations of the 1924 bill.”  He further went on to say, “In no other realm of our national life are we so hampered and stultified by the dead hand of the past, as we are in this field of immigration.”  As a Jew, it does not go unnoticed that Truman’s objections to this bill were in good part based upon the understanding that its retention of the quota system was in fact an intentional continued refusal to open America’s doors to so many Eastern European Jews who survived the Holocaust.  Unfortunately, Truman’s veto was overridden by a vote of  278 to 113 in the House and 57 to 26 in the Senate.

I suspect that rarely has there been a time in our nation’s history when immigrant groups did not have to confront some sort of prejudice when coming to, or trying to come to our country.  There seems always to have been those Americans who have treated newcomers with fear and hatred.  It is  ironic that of all people, it was the Native Americans who served as a major exception to this rule. for they graciously welcomed the Pilgrim immigrants to their shores and aided them in their time of need.  Probably no groups in our society know of this hostility to newcomers to America better than the Jews and the Catholics.  It was home grown antisemitism which kept the immigration doors locked to all those European Jews who unsuccessfully sought an American refuge from Nazi persecution.  And as for the Catholics, starting in the 1850’s they suffered at the hands of the members of the Know Nothing Party, whose goal it was to put an end to immigration, particularly targeting Irish and Italian Roman Catholic immigration.  Such opposition to immigration and hatred of immigrants is nothing new in our country.  It is a challenge which we faced in the past, just as we must face it now.

Yet in spite of our nation’s disturbing history of resistance to newly arrived immigrant groups, I do not believe that such hostility is an accurate reflection of the American spirit.  Rather, I believe that while there have been those among us who have actively rejected and discriminated against the immigrants of their day, still the American ideal remained, and I pray still remains, that our land should be a safe haven and a land of opportunity for all newcomers.  As a Jew, I am profoundly proud of the fact that emblazoned on a plaque inside the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty are words of welcome, penned by a fellow Jew, the poetess Emma Lazarus.  I choose to believe that the words of her poem – “The New Colossus” – still remain America’s ultimate values statement on immigration to our shores:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles.  From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips.  “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.  Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.  I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”   It was in this spirit that my grandparents were welcomed to this land.  This was and should remain truly one of the most important of American values, fundamental to American life ever since the very first settlers crossed the Atlantic and set foot on our shores.  But somewhere along the way, there are those Americans  who seem to have forgotten this.  If the poll on the public response to the Arizona immigration law is correct, then somewhere along the way, not only has the flame on that famous lamp gone out, but the arm which proudly raised that lamp has been lowered and the lamp itself has been dropped.  Perhaps nothing has brought this sad fact into sharper relief for me than an experience I had while on the way to Postville, Iowa, to participate in a rally in support of the immigrant workers who were caught up in that now famous raid.  My wife, a friend, and I were just outside of Postville when we stopped at a gas station convenience store for a break.  Parked next to us were a carload of Chicagoans, one of whom was dressed up as the Statue of Liberty, complete with body makeup.  Seeing the “Statue” we assumed both that they were heading toward the rally and were coming as supporters.  However, as we approached them and engaged in conversation, while we learned that they indeed were heading to Postville, their purpose was to participate in a counter-rally.  It would seem that for them, the Statue of Liberty had somehow been transformed from its original symbol of welcome to immigrants to one which was intended to guard our shores against the invasion of immigrants.  When we Americans choose to forget our own immigrant roots and how we are the direct beneficiaries of our nation’s earlier open immigration policy, xenophobia – fear of strangers – becomes the order of the day.  While there are those today who try to crown it as a virtue, I cannot help but reflect upon the fact that in the Reform Jewish prayerbook for the High Holy Days, xenophobia is mentioned as one of the sins for which we are instructed to communally confess.

All of this particularly disturbs me as a Jew.  For Jewish tradition is very clear on this matter.  The Torah repeatedly charges us to treat the “stranger” in our midst as the “home-born”, with dignity, compassion, and justice.  It repeatedly reminds us to recall “for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  As we once suffered under the mistreatment of the Egyptians because we were strangers, we need to resolve to be better than that when we deal with the strangers in our midst.  There is no quota system in the Torah, nor is there a call for racial profiling to be found there.

Considering all these factors, I firmly believe that we need to pry open our nation’s  doors to immigration.  We need to return to a time when we were welcoming of newcomers and willing to share the American dream and hope with those so desperately in need of both.

Obviously, today is not the 19th century nor the very beginnings of the 20th.  Times have changed and situations have changed, and therefore, so must our approach to immigration.  We cannot simply re-open Ellis Island and hang out a generic welcome sign.  This, being the 21st century, we need to establish a 21st century response to our immigration challenges.

Of course, the first challenge we face today is the presence of so many illegal immigrants/undocumented workers residing within our borders.  The approach taken by the state of Arizona basically has been to round them all up and ship them all out.

I would take another approach.  I would like to see our nation offer each and every one of these illegal aliens an amnesty.  I say amnesty rather than citizenship because I believe that American citizenship is both a privilege and a responsibility, and therefore should neither be treated lightly or merely given away in the manner of a supermarket promotional.  While I believe that we must do a far better job in making the possibility of American citizenship available to as many people as possible who truly seek it, still that citizenship should be earned.  Ergo, I would offer amnesty, not citizenship.

I envision such amnesty as an opening of the path to citizenship.  While the amnesty would be open to all, yet if one accepts the amnesty, then they also must accept the responsibility to enter into the established process of naturalization.  Like all other immigrants, they must take the classes which teach about what it means to be an American, they must take and pass the tests, and of course, if they are successful in the process, they must take the oath of loyal citizenship to our nation.

Let me clarify what I mean when I say, “I believe that we must do a far better job in making the possibility of American citizenship available to as many people as possible who truly seek it.”  By making that possibility available, I am not just talking about offering classes.  I am also talking about offering whatever social supports are necessary to enable these individuals to be able to maintain their lives and their families while they are going through the naturalization process.  We need to do whatever is necessary to make this opportunity for these people a realistic opportunity and not just a symbolic one.

If there are those who refuse the amnesty, or who accept the amnesty but refuse to go through the naturalization process, then these individuals are truly illegal aliens, for they have been given the opportunity to become American citizens but have actively chosen to reject it.  It would appear to be their desire to reside in our nation, to take advantage of all the benefits offered by our nation, but not to become at one with our nation.  This is simply unacceptable.  If a person wants to enjoy the benefits of America, then that person has to accept the responsibilities that go hand-in-hand with being an American.  If they are unwilling to accept those responsibilities then they have no place in America.  While the opportunity to become an American should be open to as many as possible, still one must be an American, or an aspiring American, in order to enjoy the benefits of our country and reside within our midst.  For those who choose otherwise, then the door swings both ways.  Not only are they welcomed to leave but it is appropriate to usher them out.

Addressing the issue of the illegal aliens in our midst is only one of our challenges.  For there are plenty more potential illegal aliens where they came from; there are plenty of others who are and will be seeking entry into our country but who at this time still reside outside of our borders.   They are the potential illegal aliens of the future.  Well, the future begins now.  As we address the issue of dealing with the illegal aliens in our midst, we also have to address the issue of how to we prevent massive illegal immigration into our country in the future.

My response is not by building higher walls to keep them out but rather by establishing a better and more open and just system to responsibly welcome them in.  The first thing that must go is the quota system.  America should not be about trying to maintain some sort of ethnic balance from the past.  We should be about making America available to all those who desire and deserve to be Americans.

We need to develop a system which effectively screens potential immigrants.  It needs to be an accessible system so that it is very clear that legal immigration to America is indeed a very real possibility.  Yet at the same time it needs to be a system which does protect America.  It needs to be a system which screens out those who may pose a threat to our people, such as convicted felons (as defined by American law and not the perversion of law promulgated by some dictatorships) and those who carry contagious diseases.  It needs to be a system which screens out those who are unwilling to invest themselves in the process of obtaining American citizenship.   Such screening is not discrimination.  It is wisdom.  For while welcoming as many aspiring Americans as possible is the right thing to do to,  still it is the wise thing to try to assure that those whom we welcome will add to the strength and the character of our nation, and not detract from it.

Intimately tied to the issue of immigration has been the struggle over language.  For years now, “English Only” laws have been a center of much debate in our nation.  There are those who hold that such laws protect the very fabric of American culture, and there are those who hold that such laws are the essence of racism.  Personally, I have been torn by this debate.  I see both sides and stand uncomfortably in the middle.  English is our national language.  As such, I firmly believe that all those who aspire to American citizenship must learn to speak the language.  It is probably the most important key that opens the door to the fullness of American life.  To make believe that it is unnecessary for our aspiring immigrants to learn our language is pure folly.  Indeed, to minimize or deny our immigrants’ need of English skills is to condemn them to remaining on the lowest rungs of the American socioeconomic ladder.  Now that is discrimination!  I find it ironic that those who would work hardest to protect our immigrant population would at the same time promote an anti-English ideology which would in the end only hurt those they wish to protect.

That being said, I am not completely in favor of English Only laws.  I do suspect that those who promote them are doing so for less than idealistic reasons; that there is an underlying prejudice embedded within them.  While I do believe, for example, that an electoral ballot should only be published in English, for English skills should be a prerequisite for American citizenship, while voting is a privilege of citizenship, I do not believe that such things as exams for a drivers license should be only published in English.  These people are going to drive on our streets, and they are not necessarily going to wait until they pass their citizenship exam to do so.  Indeed, if they are living in a community like mine, they need to drive to survive, for in such communities one cannot depend upon public transportation.  Simply as a matter of public safety, I would prefer that they be permitted to take their driving exams in whatever language they speak so that they can become licensed drivers, and hopefully safe drivers.  The same would go for access to medical care.  Regardless of language, people get sick.  Everyone deserves to be able to communicate what ails them to medical professionals.  Therefore, when it comes to the question of English and immigration, while we need to be assertive about the importance of acquiring a working knowledge of our national language, we should not be absolute.  We need to seek out the appropriate middle ground; something the advocates on both sides of this issue have refused to do.

No presentation on immigration would be complete if it did not address the issue of employment.  For almost as long as immigrants have flocked to America, there have been those Americans who have opposed immigration on the grounds that the new immigrants would be taking away their jobs.  Yet when we look at the history of American immigration, and when we look at the immigrant situation in our nation today, we can clearly see that such a charge is patently false.  It is rare indeed when new immigrants enter our society and find themselves somewhere in the middle or top of the employment food chain.  Far more often than not, they are on the bottom of that chain, doing work that other Americans prefer not to do.  So it is today.  Our immigrant, and particularly our illegal immigrant population are deeply involved in what might be called menial labor.  They are janitors.  They are dishwashers.  They are maids.  They work in such difficult industries as meat packing.  Theirs are jobs that the overwhelming majority of Americans would never consider doing unless their situation was absolutely desperate.  Rather than “stealing” jobs in our society, they are filling a very real need.  This has been the way with all American immigrants.  The first generation does whatever needs to be done in order to keep their family fed.  They send their children to school and it is that next generation that starts to take their group up the socioeconomic ladder.

In successfully addressing the issue of immigration reform, when it comes to jobs, we also address another serious flaw in our current system.  That flaw is the abuse of illegal immigrants by unscrupulous employers.  There are those who enjoy the financial benefits of maintaining a significant population of illegal immigrants in our nation.  These illegal immigrants are nothing more than the victims of such employers.  These employers pay them substandard wages and provide them with little or no benefits.  Worse yet, they hold them captive, enslaving them with the threat of being turned over to the immigration authorities.  As the raid on the Agriprocessors kosher meat processing plant in Postville, Iowa revealed, this system subjects these illegal immigrants to all sorts of collateral abuses, including sexual abuse and the flagrant violation of child labor laws.  All this would be brought to a grinding halt if these people were not forced to live under the radar in our country.  If they could be granted official status and with that, official protection.  Indeed, such an elimination of an illegal immigration work force would force such employers to offer legitimate wages, benefits, and working conditions.  It would create a more open and competitive jobs market.  Yes, prices would go up, but is it not about time that the money we Americans save due to lower prices stop being blood money?

Emma Lazarus, the Statue of Liberty poetess, is one of my American Jewish heroes.  Part of me is happy that she is not around today to see what our country has done to its immigrants.  It would break her heart!  Yet another part of me wishes that she was among us still for she would not be one to stand idly by on this issue.  She would be a strong voice reminding us of our immigrant heritage and of our responsibility to offer to others today the blessing which our ancestors received when they arrived on these shores.

Chabad in the Quad Cities

January 9, 2010






Since 2004, the Jewish community of the Quad Cities has been attempting to deal with the introduction and activities of Chabad in our town.  Unfortunately, the coming of Chabad has generated far more controversy than stimulation in our Jewish lives.  Recently, our local Jewish Federation was thrown into a crisis over this issue.  On Erev Shabbat, January 8, 2010, I delivered a sermon addressing this matter.  I wish to share with my readers an EXTENDED version of this sermon.

UPDATE ON CHABAD AND THE JEWISH FEDERATION

Yesterday, the Board of the Quad Cities Jewish Federation received an email from our Executive Director, Allan Ross, stating that the Federation had just averted a crisis concerning Chabad.  I do not exaggerate when I say that the crisis in question had a very real potential to tear apart the Federation and perhaps even destroy it.

However, before I share with you the nature of that crisis and how it was averted, or at least averted for the moment, I need to take you on a journey; a journey down the road to this crisis.  For before I can share the crisis itself, I need to share the history which led up to it.

But even before I can do that, I need to rectify an important misconception about myself.  In our community, we have had a lot of controversy surrounding Chabad, and admittedly I have been, and will continue to be, a key player in those struggles.  However, there are those who believe that I am simply anti-Chabad; that it is part of my essential nature as a Reform Jew and a Reform rabbi to oppose them.  That is the misconception that I wish to clear up.  While it is true that at this point in time I have significant issues with Chabad, it was not always so.  Indeed, there was a time when I was a friend to Chabad.

Back in the 70’s, as a rabbinic student intern in a large New York suburban congregation, I used to take my Confirmation classes – classes of over 60 students – to Crown Heights, Brooklyn in order to spend a weekend – to spend Shabbat – with the Lubavitcher Hasidim.  Indeed I met and prayed with Menahem Mendel Schneerson, the last Lubavitcher rebbe.

While serving as a rabbi here in the Quad Cities, there was a time when I definitely was Chabad friendly.  There was a time when I invited Chabad representatives from Postville to come into our synagogue and conduct family education programs.  They conducted a program on the baking of matzah and another on the making of a shofar.  Then there was the time when I invited them to do a program on the making of Torah scrolls.  They cancelled on me twice, with the last cancellation coming less than an hour before the scheduled event.  Yes, I was angry.  Those of you who know me well can imagine just how angry I was.  But still, I did not hold it against Chabad in general.  I attributed this problem to the fact that the Chabad rabbi in question was simply a jerk.

When University of Iowa journalism professor Stephen Bloom published his best selling book, POSTVILLE, I reviewed that book from this very bimah.  Some of you might even remember hearing that review.  I panned the book.  I criticized the author for engaging in excessive exaggeration.  I accused him promoting harmful stereotypes; stereotypes both of Hasidic Jews and of Iowans.  I stated that if the images he drew of the Hasidic Jews of Postville were anywhere nearly as inaccurate as the images he drew of Iowans in general, then what he wrote at least bordered on bigotry, if it did not actually cross that line.  But I now admit that I was wrong.  If I were to review that book today, it would be substantially different.

The point is that I did not start off being an opponent of Chabad.  However over the years, the circumstances, and particularly the circumstances in our own community, have been such that I have become one.

While I am certainly troubled by some of the more global issues concerning Chabad, I will not focus on them tonight.  There is no question but that they do contribute to my attitudes on this subject.  I am deeply disturbed by that major segment of Chabad that professes that the late Lubavitcher Rebbe was the Messiah and that he will return.  I truly believe that such a profession carries them outside the realm of Judaism and into a faith all their own, like Christianity, which of course holds similar views about the person of Jesus.

As you all know, the legal and ethical abuses perpetrated by the Chabad owners and managers of the Agriprocessors Kosher Meat processing plant in Postville offend me to the very core.  Their actions were completely contrary to everything I understand about how our Judaism instructs us to live our lives.  I am proud that I was the one who authored the resolution of the Central Conference of American Rabbis which addresses the issue of adhering to Jewish ethical standards as well as ritual standards in the preparation of kosher food.

But I will not dwell on those global topics now. Rather I wish to dedicate the remainder of my remarks to the activities of Chabad within our local community and why those activities have led to a crisis which threatened to undo our Federation.

Our journey began in the Fall of 2004.  It was a Monday, my day off, when I received a phone call from our Federation’s Executive Director.  He had a visitor in his office; a representative of Chabad.  This man had come to the Quad Cities to “explore” the possibility of creating a Chabad presence in our community.  He wanted to meet with me.  I told him that while I could not meet with him on that day, I would be happy to do so on the next.  However, since he was only here for a day, we wound up meeting on the phone.

It was during that phone conversation that I witnessed a the very first hint of the problems that would quickly arise between our two local synagogues and Chabad.  The Chabad representative told me, as he told others, that it was the intention of Chabad to work in cooperation with the local synagogues.  They would not be replicating the services provided by the synagogues nor would they be recruiting from among the synagogue members.  He said that Chabad possessed a list of over 2,000 names of unaffiliated Jews living in our small Jewish  community.  This, and this only, would be their target population.  Of course, every local Jew with whom he spoke – myself included – told him that he was sorely mistaken.  While there are unaffiliated Jews in our community, the numbers are not anywhere near what Chabad projected.   Indeed, the total number of Jews in our community – unaffiliated and affiliated together – were not anywhere near what Chabad projected.   Still he persisted in insisting that these numbers were accurate.  So I pressed him on Chabad’s commitment not to recruit from current synagogue members.

I spoke to him of the Jewish legal principle of Hasagat G’vul, the respecting of organizational boundaries.  This is a principle which governs inter-congregational relations in most, if not all, Jewish communities around the world.  Simply put, local congregations agree not to recruit from those who are members of other local congregations and rabbis agree not to provide rabbinic services for other rabbis’ congregants or take actions which would undermine the relationships between other rabbis and their congregants.  Unaffiliated Jews, of course, are fair game for everyone.  But when it comes to affiliated Jews, it is strictly hands off.  It is in this way that local congregations are able to establish and maintain cooperative and hopefully harmonious relations, for it is important to have confidence that when congregations work together they are not unwittingly providing opportunities for one congregation to prey on the membership of others.  Such a predatory environment would be toxic to the well being of any Jewish community.

It was his response to my pushing this issue which sent up red flags.  Of course, he assured me that Chabad would not be doing this.  But then he went on to say that he did not understand why I was so concerned.  After all, if Chabad was going to be drawing members away from any congregation in our community, it would be from the Tri City Jewish Center, the traditional congregation, and not from my Reform congregation.  After all, Chabad’s form of Judaism would be more attractive to traditional Jews than to Reform Jews.  So why was I worried.  Indeed, in many communities, Chabad enjoys a wonderful partnership with Reform congregations and Reform rabbis.  It was as if he was giving me a wink and nod, implying that we could be partners in the dismantling of the Tri City Jewish Center, and it would be to the benefit of both of our organizations.  Suffice it to say that he did not evoke from me the reaction he obviously anticipated.  I would have no part in such a conspiracy.

It would be a few months before Chabad would actively pursue their plans of establishing a presence in our community.  In December they held their first community informational meeting.  They held it at the Blackhawk Hotel.  Just as I had feared, it was not their list of unaffiliated Jews who received phone calls, inviting them to attend, but rather affiliated Jews from both congregations.  They held their second meeting on Tuesday, January 11, 2005 – five years ago this coming Monday – and I attended.  There were no unaffiliated Jews there.  All, with the exception of myself, were members of the Tri City Jewish Center.  Once again, in my conversation with the Chabad rabbi that evening, I pressed for adherence to the principle of Hasagat G’vul; respecting institutional boundaries.  This time I was told that this principle does not apply to them for they are not “in the same business” as the local synagogues.

In March of that year, leaders from our two congregations and the Federation held the first of several formal meeting with Chabad leadership, in order to work out our differences.  That particular meeting was with Rabbi Yossie Jacobson, the chief Chabad rabbi of Iowa.  We told Rabbi Jacobson that of course we understood and respected the fact that this is a free country and, as such, Chabad most certainly was free to set up shop wherever it choses.  However, if Chabad was going to come to our community, we wanted the Chabad organization to respect the same rules of the road as are followed by our other local Jewish organizations including the halachic principle of Hasagat G’vul.

At first, Rabbi Jacobson said that the principle of Hasagat G’vul should not apply to Chabad because Chabad is not a synagogue.  Since it is not a synagogue, it cannot be considered in the same category as the local congregations nor could it be held to the same standards of behavior.  I pointed out that, like a synagogue, Chabad was intending to offer worship, study, and communal activities.  Therefore, if it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, you have to treat it as if it is a duck.  As odd a duck as Chabad might be, for the well being of our community, it still must abide by inter-synagogue rules.  When Rabbi Jacobson did come around to stating that he was not adverse to abiding by such principles, it was pointed out to him that these principles were already being violated, in that the Chabad rabbi from Iowa City was providing Bar Mitzvah training to a child whose family belonged to the Tri City Jewish Center.  While Rabbi Jacobson stated that he would investigate the matter and put an end to such violations, when all was said and done, he took absolutely no action.

When Rabbi Shneur Cadaner, our local Chabad rabbi, arrived in our community, matters did not get better.  In fact they got worse.  Soon after his arrival, Rabbi Cadaner would say one thing to Rabbi Michael Samuel (of the Tri City Jewish Center)  and another thing to me.  Only when Rabbi Samuel and I talked did we begin to realize that we were getting mixed messages.  We tried to resolve these differences by asking Rabbi Cadaner to meet with the two of us together.  However, Rabbi Cadaner insisted that he would not meet with us together, but only alone.  He claimed that he did not want us to “gang up on him.”  When one of my congregants made a similar request of him – that he sit down with the rabbis of the two synagogues and work out our differences – he responded by saying “I don’t believe in organized crime.”

It was not long before Rabbi Cadaner started approaching Jews who belonged to one congregation or the other.  He would visit them in the hospital.  He would visit them in their homes.  He would visit them at their work places.  Now many people would say, “What’s wrong with that?”  Let me explain.  There are valid reasons why rabbinic professional ethics forbids rabbis from performing pastoral services for the congregants of other rabbis.  Those reasons involve both the the possibility of congregants receiving conflicting pastoral counseling as well as the unfair psychological impact of such visits.

The dangers of conflicting pastoral counseling are very real and very serious.  My own experience with with the Chabad rabbi in such a situation serves as an excellent example.  One of my congregants was a wonderful woman who did much for our congregation and our community, and was beloved by all.  Unfortunately, one morning she collapsed.  She was rushed to the hospital where it was determined that she had major arterial blockages.  While the doctors did their best to clear them, her brain was deprived of oxygen for too long and she was basically brain dead.  So she lay as a vegetable in the Intensive Care Unit, with her loving family and friends continually by her side.  When it was clear that her situation was hopeless, her family decided to accede to her stated wishes and remove her from life support.  Enter the Chabad rabbi.  He proceeded to tell her youngest son that Judaism considers it a sin to remove her life support; that the family needs to seriously reconsider its decision.  This was in direct contradiction to the supportive counseling which they had received from me; counsel which had a strong foundation in our sacred texts.  Fortunately, the family was strong willed and determined enough to set aside the Chabad rabbi’s counsel.  Yet strong willed or not, who in that situation needs to be subjected to that type of doubt and guilt?  When, later that day, I learned of what this Chabad rabbi had done, I felt deeply violated!  How much more so must that family have felt it?

That type of violation is manifest as well when one rabbi takes it upon him or herself to make uninvited visits to the congregants of another rabbi, as did and does our local Chabad rabbi.  For when a rabbi visits his or her congregants in the hospital or when they are homebound, while the congregants do appreciate those visits, still in a way they also expect it.  After all, part of their rabbi’s job is to visit them.  However, when another rabbi visits – a rabbi who is not “paid” to do so by these congregants’ dues – then that visit tends to be considered especially virtuous.  “It was nice that my rabbi visited me but how wonderful of this other rabbi to come and visit me as well!  After all, he did not have to do that!”  Such visits do unfairly interfere with the relationships between rabbis and their congregants.

Just as such actions interfere with the relationships between rabbis and their congregants, so do they interfere with the relationships between congregations and their congregants for, right or wrong, congregants start feeling that they are being better serviced by the other rabbi and his institution than by their rabbi and their congregation.

Along these lines, another serious bone of contention has been Chabad’s insistence upon sending publicity flyers to members of the two synagogues; sending these flyers without specifically being asked by these congregants to be included on the Chabad mailing list.  This is but another form of illicit congregant solicitation.  Once again, it is a standard of inter-congregational relations that synagogues do not include members of other congregations on their mailing lists unless those individuals have specifically requested to be included.  This, too, is an issue of creating a predatory environment.

When it comes to our local Chabad rabbi, he claims that he only sends his publicity materials to the names and addresses on the list of Jews which Chabad purchased in advance of its coming to our community.  However we know that is not an accurate statement.  There is evidence that he has used, without permission, the Temple’s membership list, if not the membership list of the Tri City Jewish Center as well.  How do we know this?  Because Betty Cottrell, our non-Jewish retired office administrator, whose name and address appears in our Temple Directory, receives Chabad mailings.  There is very little, if any chance, that her name appears on any other compiled Jewish list.  The odds are extremely high that the only way that Chabad could have gotten her name on its mailing list was by taking it off of our mailing list.  And that was done without our permission.  That is highly unethical.

It could also be considered unethical when the local Chabad rabbi started befriending on Facebook the children of families belonging to the two synagogues.  To him, these children were complete strangers, yet as Jews they seemed to be legitimate targets.  Of course, anyone can choose to befriend anyone they want on Facebook, but at the least, his doing this was more than a tad creepy.

Inappropriate congregant visitations and recruitment have just been the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the transgressions of our local Chabad rabbi.

There have been those occasions when he has misrepresented himself to the general community as speaking for all Quad City Jews.  Soon after his arrival, he went around to several local businesses, soliciting paid ads in a calendar he was producing, telling these business people that his was the ONLY calendar which would be published in the Jewish community.  He said that, in spite of the fact that both of the synagogues also distribute calendars.  Indeed, at that time, the calendar of the Tri City Jewish Center included paid advertisements.  This type of  inappropriate approach to the non-Jewish community repeated itself during his first winter holiday season in our community.  It was then that he went to the officials at the Moline City Hall and insisted that since they had a Christmas tree in their lobby, the Jewish community demands that they display a Hanukkah menorah as well.  In this, he was not only not speaking for the entire Jewish community but he was, in fact, speaking in a manner contrary to the generally held position of our Jewish community; a position strongly in support of the separation of church and state; one which definitely would not want to see a Jewish religious symbol displayed on public property.  The damage done by this request was only compounded by the fact that he delayed for so long in removing that menorah from their lobby that the Moline city leaders decided not to have any holiday displays in their lobby in the future.

There are other aspects of his relationship with our non-Jewish neighbors which I find deeply disturbing as well.  For example, one day he met a local monsignor; a man of great public distinction and deservedly so.  Not only that, but this priest has been a long time friend of our local Jewish community.  When the priest extended his hand to shake, Rabbi Cadaner rejected it, stating that “We do not do that”.  Well, soon after that incident a member of the Jewish community intentionally offered to shake the Chabad rabbi’s hand, and they did.  So the message seems clear.  From his perspective when he says “we do not do that,” what he probably means is “we do not do that” with non-Jews.  As a small Jewish community, we depend heavily upon the good will of our non-Jewish neighbors.  Such prejudicial behavior hurts us all.

Likewise, when we held a community interfaith service in response to the terrorist attacks in Mumbai, India, the Chabad rabbi turned down an invitation to participate.  I cannot help but wonder:  Was it because he would not pray with non-Jews?  Was it because the service was held in the sanctuary of the Reform congregation?

Of course, our Chabad rabbi’s attitudes about the local synagogues and their clergy have not helped resolve our problems.  They have only exacerbated them.  My colleague, Rabbi Samuel, reported to me that in one angry encounter, the Chabad rabbi told him that he (the Chabad rabbi) was the only “real” rabbi in our community and that he would still be here long after Rabbi Samuel and I were gone.  Then there is the matter of his total disrespect for the clergy status of our cantor, who also happens to be my wife.  We met in seminary.  She is a fully credentialed cantor.  Still, Rabbi Cadaner refuses to recognize her clergy status and won’t even respond to her communications.  At one point, he requested that she be excluded from any formal meetings between the Jewish community leaders and Chabad.

Over the years, both congregations and the Federation have tried to make it very clear that in order for Chabad to truly be considered a part of our community, then it must abide by the rules which govern our community.  Unfortunately, time and again, Rabbi Cadaner has refused to accept that offer.

And this is what brought us to the recent crisis.  According to the bylaws of our Federation, the rabbis of the local synagogues are granted automatic seats, with voting rights, on the Federation Board.  In recent months, Rabbi Cadaner and the supporters of Chabad chose to insist that this provision be applied to Chabad as well the synagogues, and that Chabad itself be considered a synagogue.  Of course, that claim contradicts what Chabad had been saying all along; that our inter-synagogue rules do not apply to them because they are not a synagogue.  However, now claiming to be a synagogue, Chabad still claims that inter-synagogue rules do not apply to them because they are Chabad, and as such are unique.

The issue of whether or not to grant Rabbi Cadaner a seat on the Federation Board created a great rift in our community.  So much so that those on both sides of the issue threatened to withdraw their financial and human support of the Federation, should the decision go against them.  The supporters of Chabad threatened to do so, claiming that such a contrary decision would deny the Orthodox community representation on the Federation Board.  The opponents of Chabad threatened to do so, claiming that if the Federation officially recognized Chabad, it would also tacitly be  granting its seal of approval to Chabad’s continued violations of the rules of inter-congregational behavior; it would officially be approving Chabad’s predatory practices.  Such an abandonment of the long established local synagogues would simply be unacceptable.  It seemed as if, for the Federation, this would be a lose-lose situation, with them losing significant, perhaps vital, financial support no matter what they did.

This crisis was averted, thanks to the efforts and creative thinking of Jeff Goldstein.  It was Jeff who suggested that if the Orthodox community feels unrepresented, then let them be represented by a lay person on the Federation board.  In that way, our Federation could avoid being caught in the middle of a bitter struggle over the actions of Rabbi Cadaner.  Those of us who were opposed to Rabbi Cadaner’s being seated on the board, and by so seating him apparently granting Federation approval to his objectionable actions – myself included – had no qualms about the Orthodox community itself being represented.  Therefore, we had no problem with a lay representative.  But the ball rested in Chabad’s court.  Would they accept a lay representative in place of Rabbi Cadaner?  They were presented with the proposal, considered it for some time, and in the end, finally accepted it, turning a lose-lose situation for the Federation into a win-win.

Now it is time for us as a community to move forward.  And so we hope to do so.  However, we do so recognizing that our problems have not gone away, and they will not go away until Rabbi Cadaner and Chabad agree to become community team players and change the way in which they do their business; until they come to recognize and accept that they too are expected to abide by the very same rules and principles which govern the behaviors and inter-relations of both the Temple and the Center.  We have asked nothing more of them than we expect of ourselves.  We pray that someday soon they will decide to live up to those expectations.

Facing the Next Decade

December 31, 2009

Tomorrow evening is New Year’s Eve – well, the secular one anyway – and I find it hard to believe that on it we will be welcoming in the second decade of the 21st century.

It seems like only yesterday that we were living in anticipation and dread of Y2K; both the advent of the 21st century and the prophesied melt down of everything computer in the world.  Ironically, as we were filled with dread of the potential demise of our cyber-centered universe, I could not help be ponder how liberating that could be.  For I am one of those folks who is convinced that while technology has contributed much to our lives, even more has it enslaved us.  I remember when the hype was that the technological revolution would liberate us; provide us with more free time and leisure.  Well, tell that to the person who each morning opens their email to be greeted by 100 or more messages, some easily deletable but most expecting an instantaneous response – don’t think!  just write!  And then, of course, there are our cell phones.  When I was growing up – in the days of rotary dial corded phones – we did not even have answering machines, nevertheless cell phone.  That is, except for Dick Tracy with his two-way wrist radio – “Calling Dick Tracy!  Calling Dick Tracy!”  If someone called and you were not home, they would just have to call back later, or not.  Now they can call you anywhere, anytime.  “Hello?  Where are you?  You sound strange.”  “Maybe that is because I am in Phoenix, in a restaurant, in the bathroom!”  No escape.  We are prisoners.  And you wonder why in the secret recesses of my heart I carried the smallest hope that all that Y2K jabber was more than mere hype?

It seems like only yesterday we welcomed the 2000’s.  I remember so very well being at a house party with my children.  As midnight was approaching, we all left the house and walked to a nearby park which provided an excellent vantage point for the public fireworks which ushered in the new century.  And they were magnificent.  As I stood there, in the midwestern winter cold, with the display lighting up the night sky, I could not help but gaze upon my children and wonder whether or not they appreciated the import of the moment.  For here we were, parents and children together, celebrating a moment which none of us would ever live to see again; the start of a new century.  That would be the privilege of my grandchildren and great grandchildren; their children and grandchildren.  And I cannot even begin to attempt to calculate how many generations it will be before parents and children can once again stand together to welcome a new milennia.

How time has flown!  For we turn around and we are already entering yet another decade.  How I pray that we make far better use of our time in this coming decade than we did in the last.

O how we approached the 21st century with such hopes and dreams!  What promise it held for us!  The media was filled with reports featuring the various visions of the future held by both people of note and the man or woman on the street, and they all were positive.  Yet when I think back on these past 10 years, it pains me to consider how we have failed to live up to those visions, those promises, those hopes.  It pains me to consider how dark and dismal a decade was this first decade of this new century.  A bloody one, indeed, with wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, with genocide in Darfur, with not one but four separate grisly conflicts between the Israelis and their adversaries, the Palestinians and Hezbollah – the Second Intifada, the invasion of the West Bank, the Lebanon War, and the Gaza War.  There has been brutal terrorism galore, the most agonizing incident of which, at least of us Americans, was 9-11.  Of course, that was not the only one.  Trains have been blown up, suicide bomber have struck both  inside and outside of Israel, missile and mortar attacks on civilian settlements in southern Israel, Mumbai.  The list is too long and too painful to recount in its entirety.

Nor was armed conflict this decade’s only ill.  Hunger remains a rampant disease afflicting our planet.  The number of its victims continues to grow rather than diminish.  As I write these words, our economy – our global economy – has seriously faltered.  Unemployment in our own great country is disgracefully high.  My wife was without a full time job for 13 months.  I thank God she finally found one she likes.  Far too many of her fellow Americans have not been nearly as fortunate.  As if these things were not bad enough, blind hatred has once again reared its ugly head in our land.  Hate groups are on the rise, spreading their bile about people of color, undocumented immigrants, and of course, Jews.  Even worse – yes, even worse – there are far too many who mask their prejudice in the sanctimonious cloak of religion.  These people profess to adhere to a faith doctrine of love while at the same time they take every opportunity to attack and degrade their fellow human beings simply because they do not share their sexual orientation.  They solemnly proclaim that they stand four square against any form of discrimination but that they also stand four square against any attempt to grant equal rights to those with a same sex orientation.  They wave their bibles as if those sacred texts were their personal license to persecute others.

One could even wonder whether or not God was intent upon crushing the new century’s promise of hope.  Tsunami, Katrina, Global Warming.  Enough said.

But ten years does not a century make.  We still have another ninety with which to work.  We still can make the 21st century the greatest century for humankind.  But whether or not that comes to fruition is entirely within our own hands.  It is up to us to decide to make this the century of peace rather than of war; of prosperity rather than of poverty; of dignity rather than of degradation; of hope rather than of heartache.

We may have squandered the first decade but if we so choose, the dream can begin now.  May this second decade usher in all the good we have longed for in this new century.

Happy New Year, one and all!

Reflections on a Jewish Christmas

December 29, 2009

This is my first posting on this blog, so forgive me if I mess it up.

Right now we are in that American holiday limbo between Christmas and New Years.  Yet I cannot shake my discomfort with this year’s Christmas day experiences.

Many people wonder, “What do Jews do on Christmas?”  I know one antisemitic joke responds that we all gather around our cash registers and sing, “O What a Friend I Have in Jesus!”  Well, I just recently turned 60 years old and can say from my own life experiences that I have never witnessed or heard of anything remotely resembling that remark.  Indeed, when you consider who own the major merchandising firms today, the overwhelming majority of these folks are Christian.  I have always been astounded at how hate filled and bitter this joke is; all the more so since it is attached to a season which is supposed to be dedicated to “Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward All”.

All my life, as a Jew, I have found the Christmas season to be one of both great beauty – physical & spiritual – and great discomfort.

I have always loved the lights and the festive spirit.  As a child, on Christmas eve, my family would pile into our car and my father would drive us all around town so we could admire the lights.  I still do that with my own children.  As I have grown older, I have increasingly grown to appreciate the uplifting messages of the Christmas stories, songs, and films.  I am a collector of DVDs and yes, I admit it, I own copies all three of Tim Allen’s SANTA CLAUSE movies, Bill Murray’s SCROOGED (I have always adored Dickens’ A CHRISTMAS CAROL), and of course, IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE.  Christmas Shistmas!  I find these stories to be universally applicable and universally enlightening.  There is much of great value that this holiday season offers all people, regardless of faith affiliations.

Yet there is the discomforting part of Christmas as well.  In my opinion, there is no other time of the year in which Jews find themselves feeling more on the outside of American society than now.  Granted, we are a religious minority living in a predominantly Christian population.  I fully understand and appreciate that, and I do not in the least begrudge my Christian neighbors the joy and the wonder of their very special holiday.  Indeed, I pray that they would actually take the true meaning of this day more to heart.  For Christmas is not, or more correctly, should not be centered around its commercial and material aspects.  Rather, our Christian neighbors should focus on the profound spiritual message of the day.  Borrowing a term from my own faith tradition, Christmas is a Christian High Holy Day and should be treated as such.

Yet all that being said, as a Jew, I must admit that I find the constant barrage of music extolling Jesus as lord and savior, which one encounters in the stores, in the restaurants, on the radio, on TV, and most painfully, in the public school music programs to be a wearying assault on the very validity of being a non-Christian in America.  Indeed, it saddens me when I witness Jewish and other non-Christian children, whose love of music has led them to desiring to participate in public school music programs, both choral and instrumental, being called upon to praise Jesus in song, declaring him a spiritual king.  It has broken my heart to watch as my own children have ultimately come to their own decisions to give up their beloved music activities rather than continue to buck the tide.  My youngest daughter attends a public high school which has a “tradition” of  performing Handel’s MESSIAH every year at this time – and I find that an outrageous violation of the First Amendment’s guarantee that the government will strictly refrain from promoting any one faith over the others.

Then, as if to add insult to injury, a few years back Bill O’Reilly started in on his rants about”The War on Christmas” and that red herring just refuses to let go.  One cannot imagine how painful it is to be considered an enemy of Christmas and Christians simply because one advocates in our society on behalf of a increase in multi-cultural and multi-faith sensitivities.  It was a dark day, indeed for America, when there arose those who proclaimed that the greetings of “Happy Holidays” and “Seasons Greetings” were part of a nefarious conspiracy to destroy the very essence of Christianity.  My-way-or-the-highway seasonal greetings?  Who would have thunk it?  I do not know about the rest of my fellow Jews, but I for one am weary of being considered the Grinch Who Stole Christmas just because I am proud enough to say that in our society there are more faiths than just Christianity.  What ever happened to “live and let live”?

So one can say that part of what Jews do on Christmas is to both bask in the beauty of the season and persevere, looking forward to its passing.

But still, what do Jews actually do on Christmas day?  For many of us, we have half jokingly called it our tradition to go out for Chinese food and then to a movie.  Why Chinese food?  Because, until recently, the Chinese restaurants were the only ones open on Christmas.  And how about the movies?  They, too, were the only form of entertainment outside of the home which was available on Christmas day.  And besides, with all the Christians gathering in their homes, with their families, opening their presents under their Christmas trees, drinking egg nog, and wearing festive clothing in green and red, both the Chinese restaurants and the movie theaters were pretty empty.  Service was good and you could always get in to see a film.  In fact, back when I was in Lincoln, Nebraska, I knew of one Jewish family who hopped from movie theater to movie theater on Christmas day, always striving to break their own record as to how many films they could see.  The Chinese restaurants and the movie theaters were somewhat of a Jewish haven on this most Christian of days.  We enjoyed having them to ourselves.

That is until recently.  Over the last few years, I have been surprised at how many others have joined us in those “Jewish havens” on this most “Christian of days.”  The places have been packed.  Indeed, this year on Christmas day my family and I encountered bigger crowds in the movie theater than at any other time during the rest of the year.  It was like a mirror image of all the Christmas days at the movies of my youth and even my middle age!  Gazing upon the massive crowds, my daughter asked me, “Aren’t these people supposed to be in church or something?  Aren’t they supposed to be over at Grandma’s house visiting with their family?”  And I joined her in my wonderment.  It seemed as though the secret of the Jewish Christmas had leaked out and now everyone wanted to take advantage of it.

But tongue-&-cheek aside, I found it disturbing on a more essential level.  Over some time now, there has been a lot of talk in our society about “family values”; how they seem to be slipping away and how we need to grasp them greedily and fold them back into our lives.  Well, Christmas for Christian, like Pesach for Jews, and Thanksgiving for all Americans, has traditionally been a bastion of family values living.  Traditionally, these have been times when families have moved heaven and earth, if necessary, to come together and be with each other.  The Christmas table, the Seder table, the Thanksgiving table, have been the sacred altars of reaffirming family life.  But as Christians as well as Jews flock to the Chinese restaurants and the movies on Christmas day, one cannot help but feel that once again the American family has taken a major hit.  The song says, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” and not “I’ll Meet You at the Movies.  Make sure to get the popcorn and the pop.”  And this has saddened me, saddened me greatly, even though this is not my holiday.  For it is another victory for the secularization and the commercialization of Christmas; another defeat for what are supposed to be the essential messages of the holiday; another defeat for the spirituality of Christmas.

So as a Jew, why should I care?  After all, this is a Christian holiday.  I care because whenever the spiritual is defeated by the secular, we all suffer, whether we realize it or not.  As American Christians become more secular, so do American Jews and Muslims and Hindus and Buddhists, and you get the idea.  Regardless of our faiths, our various spiritualities are interconnected and interdependent.  Their defeat is our defeat and our defeat is theirs.  And in these defeats, we move further away from each other and further away from God.