Please rise for the Bar’chu

David, over at Life on the Far Side, has eloquently put into words what has been milling about in my head for quite some time. Kol Hakavod to him.

While you should read his article to see what I’m talking about, the thrust of it goes something like this…

And when these youth are praying, in the most frequent iteration of liberal American prayer, they are provided with a single vision of what to see: a person, in front of them, guitar in hand, singing at them. Strum, strum strum. Baruch Ata Adonai. Strum strum strum.

This is prayer? It’s not very democratic. It’s not very educational either. It does not challenge the individual to learn or connect or experiment. It allows for passive witnessing of a prayer-experience unfolding.

Let me be clear and not mince words. The songleader, as a person and individual, is an invaluable talent within our midst. Song-leading is important. We need people with musical talent. We need people with presences who can stand before an audience and teach. We need performers. We need all of this, but not in prayer.

For that we need prayer-leaders. We have them. They’re called shlichei tsibur.

That being said, I don’t believe the issue is so much the guitar itself, as the way it is being used. Certainly, the use of physical instruments is not foreign to Jewish davening. (“Hal’luhu b’teika shofar… b’neivel v’chinor… b’tof umachol… b’minim v’ugav… b’tziltz’lei shama… b’tziltz’lei t’ruah“)

Instruments become a problem when they become a tool to hide behind or a tool for performance, rather than an extension of the group’s kavannah. Or to extend David’s metaphor, when they become an autocratic tool rather than a democratic device.

There is no Reform ideology which says “we pray with songleaders.” To be truly democratic, the phrase should read: “musicians pray with us.”

David mentions that “You don’t need a special person in front of a group to lead ‘services.'”

Nu?

Isn’t that what a Shaliach Tzibbur is? Isn’t a certain level of knowledge required to serve as a prayer leader? Doesn’t the very fact that we have a phrase to describe one who leads the community in prayer imply that that we do have a special person to lead prayer?

He also states: “You don’t need planning meetings… Get a group of ten together. Start praying, then you’ll learn how to lead it.” I agree. I’m with him on this one. But he’s preaching to the choir (which apparantly is an outdated institution…) We have to be careful about making assertions like this – it’s easy when we are intimately familiar with the mechanics of prayer. But for those that aren’t… those planning meetings are part and parcel of the learning process.

I find that one of the things that makes Jewish prayer so unique and rewarding is that it has never been something that is entirely spontaneous. Jewish prayer requires an ongoing learning process. Once that dissapears, it becomes stagnant. I don’t think we can just toss people into the pool of prayer and hope (pray?) that they learn how to swim.

Things that make us shvitz

David Shneer, in a new collumn at Jewcy, has some interesting critiques of Reform Judaism. They’re given within the context of an analysis of RJ and Chabad in Russia and the FSU. What he has to say about RJ seems to be an academic analysis and is free of some of the vitriol that often accompanies other such critiques. Here’s an excerpt that resonated quite strongly with me:

Reform rabbis are trained to be educators and to give pastoral care, but ultimately many of them see their primary role as CEOs of the Jewish community, appointed by wealthy boards of donors, and charged with the operations of the community. For Reform Judaism, at least in its American and British forms [and might I (Jesse) add, Canadian], the rabbinate is a job, not a calling.

I should note that this article was brought to my attention via the blog of a Rabbinical student friend of mine. I suspect that it might have resonated similarly with him aswell, although I leave that to him to confirm or deny.

While there is a danger in over-generalizing about the Rabbinate, there is certainly a strong element of truth in what Shneer has to say. So what to do with it? More to the point…

– How do those of us that aren’t in Rabbinical school respond to this?
– How do those of us that aren’t Rabbis respond to this?

The way of Man or Woman (redux)

This is a somewhat long argument. If you’ve heard me rant about religious pluralism before, skip to the last four paragraphs. Although I do reccomend reading the whole post.

“When some disciples of a deceased tzaddik came to the Seer of Lublin and expressed surprise at the fact that his customs were different from those of their late master, the Seer exclaimed, “What sort of God would that be who has only one way in which he can be served! God does not say, ‘This way leads to me and that does not.’ Instead God says, ‘Whatever you do may be a way to me, provided you do it in such a manner that it leads you to me.'”
-Martin Buber, The Way of Man

I often find myself returning to the thoughts of Martin Buber to console me when I’m upset about the Jewish world.

Last week, at Hillel we had our first “Three Rabbis walk into a Bar…” programme, where we invited a Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox rabbi to come to a roundtable discussion at a bar. The topic of discussion were varied – challenges each movement faces, why the Rabbis choose to affiliate with each movement, perspectives on Halakhah, perspectives on pluralism, etc.

The programme itself was fantastic. The rabbis were stimulating. They were respectful, and most of all, they were refreshing. As I’ve noted before, Toronto is not the most religiously pluralistic community, quite the opposite in fact. So to have an Orthodox rabbi (granted, he was from YCT) and a Conservative rabbi (granted, he was from one of only two egalitarian Conservative shuls in Toronto) sitting in a bar with a woman rabbi talking about pluralism and halakhah was truly refreshing.

So why am I upset?

One person attending the programme came “armed” with vitriol, ignorance, and a condescending tone. This is not a good combination. I won’t go into the details of his challenges to the Reform and Conservative Movements and to religious pluralism – they’re the same old whinings that we’ve heard for ages. And I’ve heard them from this particular individual on many occasions (Jesse, if the Reform Movement allowes gay marriage, then why doesn’t it allow incestuous marriage?).

I often wonder how educated Jews are able to sit and spew hatred masked as concern towards other Jews. I often wonder if we can’t even sit in a bar and talk to each other in Toronto, how we’re supposed to sit in the Knesset and talk to each other. Yes, this was just one individual in this case, but it is indicative of a worldwide pandemic.

To see just how endemic this pandemic is, read the comments on this article about the WUPJ Conference from today’s Jerusalem Post.

For all that we talk about religious pluralism, and how we acknowledge that it is an uphill battle, I wonder how much success we’re actually making. Hillel in Tornoto is not as a religously pluralistic environment as people might think it is. We claim that our Shabbat dinnners are our “hallmark” outreach event, but we hold them at Orthodox and Conservative shuls. Mincha used to be held with a mechitzah that put women at the back of the room (now it divides down the centre).

Because the Jewish religious community in Toronto is predominantly Orthodox, this often infuses our campuses with the “frumest common denominator” syndrome (for more on this, read BZ here). Even though the programme directors on all of our campuses are Reform (including a particularly fantastic woman Reform Rabbi), we have to “cater” to the constituency.

Which brings me full circle. This is not only a leadership issue. This is a constituency issue. This is not a problem that’s going to be solved by putting pluralistic rabbis and pluralistic Hillel professionals on campus (although that certainly is a step in the right direction). When you have an organization whose members are largely not religously pluralistic, it doesn’t matter what the leadership screams out if the volk are not buying it.

This is an issue that needs a grasroots solution. We need a New Israel Fund type of movement for Jewish life in Toronto. We need to find a way to speak to the people at their level. We need a way to show people that two women having a Jewish wedding will not mean that their children will wind up marring each other. Or a cat (yes, I’ve heard that one, too).

I’m not imposing my Judaism on you. The wonderful thing about Judaism is that it is able to survive while containing within in it many different, yet equally valid perspectives of Judaism. But heaven knows that those people who don’t understand this are not going to learn about pluralism from their rabbis. It’s got to come from somewhere else, and the current model is not working.

I should note in closing – at Hillel in Toronto, there is not an overt animosity between Reform, Orthodox, Conservative, Secular, and otherwise un-labeled Jews. We get along just fine when we’re not talking about religious Judaism. But that’s the point. We should be able to talk about religious Judaism in a pluralistic manner. If we always have to skirt the issue and walk on eggshells, we’re doing something wrong.

Let’s do something right.
Mr. Buber knew how to do it, perhaps we should take a page from his book.

Ponderings

Working at a Zionist organization can at times give you a headache. Working at a Canadian Zionist organization can at times make you feel like you’re having a stroke – cut off from the oxygen of the various American Zionst movements and organizations. That’s not to say that Canadian Zionist organizations are dependent upon their sister American organizations. But it is to say that in a world where Diaspora Zionism is largely U.S.-centric, things up here in the “head” of North America can feel a little vacuous at times.

It has led me to ponder many things as I sit at my desk and work on what others have (perhaps incorrectly) described as “Zionizing” Canada. What follows are some of my recent ponderings. Following them is some fascinating insight from none other than John Cusack – a brilliantly intelligent man. I caught him on one of my favourite pop-news shows, The Hour and was blown away. On that note, if you don’t live in Canada and want some brilliant insight served up daily, check out George Stroumboulopoulous’ (the host of the Hour) podcast.

Onto the pondering. Your insight is welcome…

Where’s the middle ground between being a political organization – essentially an arm of various democratic parties – and a religious organization?

How can you be a Zionist organization and not have “secular” political ideals?

“There has to come a point where things are beyond political discourse for left and right, and if there isn’t, if everything is a political question, everything is just something to be debated by the right wing and left wing, then we’re really marching down a road of bones, it’s total madness.” ~ John Cusack

“Ultimately, if you’re not talking about God and justice, what are you talking about?”
~John Cusack

Better be worth my while…

I just got into a car accident while returning from the post-office. I was dropping off my application to the National Theatre School, when the three-car pileup occured. Unfortunately, I was the third car, and as such the blame will be pinned on me, even though all the drivers admit it was none of our fault.

This leads me to say that I better get accepted to NTS. Yes, getting in will make the car accident worthwile. It will make the insurance rates worthwhile. If anyone from NTS happens to be reading this, please take this into consideration when you are auditioning me. Thank you.

Tossing the ball around in the dark

The youth group that I’m an advisor for is having it’s annual shul-in (sleepover) tonight.

As I write in the dark, one group of teen girls is giggling at picture on facebook. One boy has spilled Sprite on himself. The rest of the group is enjoying watching Garden State. This evening we’ve eaten pizza, tossed a football around, listened to good music, discussed how it’s depressing that most young people don’t know who Bob Dylan and Neil Young are, and laughed when the football hit someone in the head. (He’s ok).

BUT…

During this evening’s programme on Israel’s security wall/fence/call it whatever you want, it’s an ugly eyesore and a hassle either way… I wound up having to do a bit of educating. Turns out the kids didn’t know much about Israel’s changing borders, what the security wall is, how the conflict started, or much else. I don’t blame them. It’s not their fault. They sure as hell won’t learn it in school, and I’m pretty sure these things aren’t discussed much in religious school. Most of them don’t watch the news regularly, and if they do, there’s too much misinformation.

So where are they supposed to learn about this? Youth group? Camp?

That’s fine and dandy, and I love teaching about Israel in an informal setting, but it seems to me that with something this important, there needs to be a bit more importance and imminence emphasized, and youth group alone won’t do that.

So where can they turn?… The dinner table? Do I pray that they pick up newspapers, read on their own, and draw educated conclusions based on what they’ve read? Do we burn them out with Israel programming at youth group?

I think it’s important that the kids discover the importance of remaining in touch with what’s going on, while at the same time not feeling that they’re being force-fed.

So was tonight a successful evening? The kids are having a good time right now, watching an amazing movie. They learned a little bit, and I experienced more of the angst that is common to all youth group advisors. The girls have tired of facebook and are now going back to Garden State. Two of the guys are now tossing the ball around in the dark.

But that’s not the point. Or is it?

Toss the ball around in the dark.

All you have to do is play

“find a way to do what you love to do…. because then, if you find a way to do what you love to do, then it doesn’t really matter if you get paid to do it. then you can have your whole life wrapped around it and work in a coffee shop, you know? and then, if you are lucky, maybe you can make a living at it. and then, if you are lucky, and you work hard, maybe you can make a lot of money doing it.

but if that’s your goal (to become rich), then you really shouldn’t do it as a life. if your goal is money and fame, there are a lot easier ways to do it. go on fear factor, you know? if you want money, if you want music, all you have to do is play.”

The eloquence of one of my favourites…

 “A lesson is nothing should be considered during a show than the show – or better yet, nothing other than the fullness of the current moment, period. Even “current moment” is too long a phrase to reflect the idea of the time to consider, even “moment” is to long – perhaps a new word: the “mo”. “Stay in the mo.” Or the “m”. Or stay in the considering of the sound of “m”. Oh, but here we go again with considering something. Maybe “stop thinking” is more the idea. Of course on stage the brain is doing all sorts of adjustments based on what just happened, what’s about to happen, audience reaction and so on – but conscious focus must be the “mo”.”

~Daniel MacIvor

I’ve experienced what he’s describing many times. When you’re onstage, your brain kind of just wanders. And when you’re onstage and giving lines, it wanders even more sometimes. The odd thing is… sometimes it’s that wandering that actually helps me focus on my characters. I imagine that it’s not “jesse’s” mind that is wandering, but rather my “character’s” mind that is doing the wandering. It’s sort of a mantra to help focus in on whatever role I’m playing.

I also adore the notion of “stop thinking.” I’ve written before about the time in grade 1 when I realized that “hey, I’m tired. i want to stop thinking. I want to stop thinking. Wait a minute, I can’t. I CAN’T STOP THINKING.” It was a cross between horror, amazement, amusement, and confusion. Fast forward to a few years ago when I saw “I Heart Huckabees” for the first time. The moment when the two guys are sitting on the park bench, hitting each other in the head with giant red balls so that they could stop thinking — I sat with my jaw wide-open at that moment. It resonated so much.

In that light, when my mind wanders on stage, it is as if Jesse has stopped thinking, and the character has taken over. Now I just need to learn how to make my character’s stop thinking. Or is that not the point?

Live, from above the Atlantic Ocean

I thought I’d take advantage of the free wireless internet on El Al and marvel at modern technology.

I’m on my way to Israel with an astonishing group of people… representatives from KESHER, AIPAC, Hillel, the ZOA, CAMERA, Shalom Achshav, Koach, and at least a dozen other Jewish and Zionist organizations. We’re going to be doing physical repair work in northern communities that we’re attacked during this past summer’s war with Lebanon. We’ll also be meeting closely with members of various communities and seeing a side of Israel that I haven’t had a chance to yet. I’m quite excited and anxious.

There are a number of recent encounters that I’ve been meaning to write about – things I’ve found quite intriguing. Perhaps I’ll find time on this flight to write. Either way, here’s a teaser…

  • My discussion with my Irish Catholic uncle about what it means to be loyal to both Canada and Israel at the same time. We talked about aliyah, Jewish sovereignty, social justice, and a host of other issues. My uncle is a fascinating and incredible man. I look forward to writing about this.
  • My ongoing relationship with the Zionist and Jewish professional world in Toronto. It’s an intriguing relationship… one that simultaneously thrills me, frustrates me, encourages me, angers me, and stimulates me. I’m not sure what to make of it. I can’t divorce my personal emotions from my profesional work, but they are often in conflict. More on this to come.

I’ll write more later on… perhaps after I’ve had a nap.
I’m drinking wine, watching The Illusionist, and chatting online. All at 30,000 feet above the Atlantic.

Marvelous.