WHAT IS POSSIBLE
20/08/2024 09:00:08 PM
Aug20
WHAT IS POSSIBLE
These things are possible.
One. It is possible to sustain a synagogue community where every member has a home, and no one is subject to a “tzitzis check.” Translation: no one’s beliefs or non-beliefs are examined to see whether or not they are kosher!
There are plenty of synagogues where dissenting views – on God, on Israel, on Zionism, on matters of actual kashrut, on the role of non-Jews – are not tolerated. Folks who find themselves in those communities while exploring different perspectives, and particularly prospective Jews who bring their honest, searching questions, are being shown the door.
That is categorically not our way at OrH, or in our movement. Even among the three Canadian Reconstructionist affiliates, we can see different facets of belief and practice held up. We proudly characterize our little shul as a Big Tent and are especially proud of that characterization here in the context of the Ottawa Jewish community.
Two. It is possible that folks with vastly different life experiences, political views, or ideological frameworks can joyously participate in Jewish life together. This is a classic tenet of Judaism, articulated through several value concepts and key teachings, including these from Pirkey Avot: All the Jewish people are responsible for one another; Do not separate yourself from the community.
I’m remembering an OrH activity from this past year, post October 7th. Two folks were on one side of the table in Room 5, stitching and crafting away while sporting symbols and slogans in support of justice for the Palestinian people. Across from them and beside me was another crafter wearing a dog tag-like piece of jewelry inscribed with the name of an Israeli hostage being held in Gaza.
The stitching and crafting proceeded joyfully, unpunctuated by callings-out or calling names. Our little room transformed itself into a big, crazy quilt of who we are: people who care, people who differ, people who model respect and awareness of what kind of space they are being invited to create in each moment, as well as cumulatively.
Three. It is possible to hold – personally and collectively – contradictory, conflicting, or not-entirely-meshing views while prioritizing compassion. Often, the “compassion channel” shuts down when folks hear only what is articulated first, unable to hear what comes next. Someone says “Israel …” or “Palestinian ….” and the rest of the locution gets blocked. I recognize this, and strive mightily to resist its effects on me, while holding on to the core values that guide me in witnessing the truly devastating tragedy unfolding in Gaza, the deepening systemic injustice in the West Bank, the harrowing wait of the hostage families, and Israeli civil society’s struggles for justice.
In part I attribute this inclination to my multiple identities, which require me to live with both privilege and challenge, and to cultivate insight into the ways folks hold their own identities and values. This has played out in my life in ways that come into focus next to the unfolding situation between Capital Pride and the Jewish Federation of Ottawa. My justice-heart-chamber and my belonging-heart-chamber thump in my rib cage; I hear all the pain and outrage; I know where I stand, walk and witness and will continue to do so, even as I stretch to embrace as wide a circle of my people as possible.
For a tangle of reasons that emerged following a set of public statements OrH learned about following their release, Pride celebrations in Ottawa this year will not feature an OrH booth at the street festival. We were so pumped to repeat our first-time and wildly successful presence from last year, the only Jewish group out there on Bank Street. It was a gut-wrenching decision for the Board, made with great reluctance, and a sad reversal of the ways queer Jews should be able to show up in the spirit of joy and pride, regardless of positionalities.
These things are possible.
One. It is possible to sustain a synagogue community where every member has a home, and no one is subject to a “tzitzis check.” Translation: no one’s beliefs or non-beliefs are examined to see whether or not they are kosher!
There are plenty of synagogues where dissenting views – on God, on Israel, on Zionism, on matters of actual kashrut, on the role of non-Jews – are not tolerated. Folks who find themselves in those communities while exploring different perspectives, and particularly prospective Jews who bring their honest, searching questions, are being shown the door.
That is categorically not our way at OrH, or in our movement. Even among the three Canadian Reconstructionist affiliates, we can see different facets of belief and practice held up. We proudly characterize our little shul as a Big Tent and are especially proud of that characterization here in the context of the Ottawa Jewish community.
Two. It is possible that folks with vastly different life experiences, political views, or ideological frameworks can joyously participate in Jewish life together. This is a classic tenet of Judaism, articulated through several value concepts and key teachings, including these from Pirkey Avot: All the Jewish people are responsible for one another; Do not separate yourself from the community.
I’m remembering an OrH activity from this past year, post October 7th. Two folks were on one side of the table in Room 5, stitching and crafting away while sporting symbols and slogans in support of justice for the Palestinian people. Across from them and beside me was another crafter wearing a dog tag-like piece of jewelry inscribed with the name of an Israeli hostage being held in Gaza.
The stitching and crafting proceeded joyfully, unpunctuated by callings-out or calling names. Our little room transformed itself into a big, crazy quilt of who we are: people who care, people who differ, people who model respect and awareness of what kind of space they are being invited to create in each moment, as well as cumulatively.
Three. It is possible to hold – personally and collectively – contradictory, conflicting, or not-entirely-meshing views while prioritizing compassion. Often, the “compassion channel” shuts down when folks hear only what is articulated first, unable to hear what comes next. Someone says “Israel …” or “Palestinian ….” and the rest of the locution gets blocked. I recognize this, and strive mightily to resist its effects on me, while holding on to the core values that guide me in witnessing the truly devastating tragedy unfolding in Gaza, the deepening systemic injustice in the West Bank, the harrowing wait of the hostage families, and Israeli civil society’s struggles for justice.
In part I attribute this inclination to my multiple identities, which require me to live with both privilege and challenge, and to cultivate insight into the ways folks hold their own identities and values. This has played out in my life in ways that come into focus next to the unfolding situation between Capital Pride and the Jewish Federation of Ottawa. My justice-heart-chamber and my belonging-heart-chamber thump in my rib cage; I hear all the pain and outrage; I know where I stand, walk and witness and will continue to do so, even as I stretch to embrace as wide a circle of my people as possible.
For a tangle of reasons that emerged following a set of public statements OrH learned about following their release, Pride celebrations in Ottawa this year will not feature an OrH booth at the street festival. We were so pumped to repeat our first-time and wildly successful presence from last year, the only Jewish group out there on Bank Street. It was a gut-wrenching decision for the Board, made with great reluctance, and a sad reversal of the ways queer Jews should be able to show up in the spirit of joy and pride, regardless of positionalities.
“Look at the facts of the world. You see a continual and progressive triumph of the right. I do not pretend to understand the moral universe, the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. But from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.”
The sermon from 19th century Unitarian Minister Theodore Parker still resonates. He taught that religion must ally with conscience, rooting it in the work of seeking justice. This is the ground on which I stand through my participation in Rabbis for Ceasefire.
Many things are possible. One thing is undeniably necessary: hope. Let’s hope together that the moral arc of the universe does bend towards justice, and that the work of each of our hearts and hands helps to bend the arc.
Rabbi Liz
Many things are possible. One thing is undeniably necessary: hope. Let’s hope together that the moral arc of the universe does bend towards justice, and that the work of each of our hearts and hands helps to bend the arc.
Rabbi Liz
Sun, 13 October 2024
Special Messages from the Rabbi
Sun, 13 October 2024
