Rabbi's Message

On Tuesday night, May 9, HBT hosted a GBIO Legislative Forum on Criminal Justice Reform. Thanks to the successful organizing by temple members Judith Levine, Elana Wolkoff, and Sherry Flashman, the event brought together an unexpectedly large turnout of 70-80 people from a dozen different faith communities, including a dozen HBT members. Three local state legislators took part in the forum: Senator Mike Rush, and Representatives Ed Coppinger Angelo Scaccia, and were urged to stand with GBIO on four important areas for reform

• Repeal mandatory minimum sentences
• Reform pretrial and bail requirements
• Reduce/eliminate fees and fines
• Shorten the length of time in solitary confinement

Temple Hillel B’nai Torah is honored to welcome Senator Mike Rush and Representatives Angelo Scaccia and Edward Coppinger to our congregation tonight. We welcome our GBIO community, friends, and neighbors, for an open discussion of the work our Commonwealth urgently needs to pursue to bring justice to the criminal justice system.

For far too long, the emphasis in our system has been on “criminal” —and the fear and anger that those words inspire in the hearts of the citizens. Tonight, we lift up “justice” as the goal that we all share, regardless of political ideology.

The most powerful testimony to the injustice of this system that I’ve read recently is Bryan Stevenson’s book, Just Mercy. In the introduction, he tells us that the book

“is about getting closer to mass incarceration and extreme punishment in America. It is about how easily we condemn people in this country and the injustice we create when we allow fear, anger, and distance to shape the way we treat the most vulnerable among us….”

And he closes by saying,

“We are all implicated when we allow other people to be mistreated. An absence of compassion can corrupt the decency of a community, a state, a nation. Fear and anger can make us vindictive and abusive, unjust and unfair, until we all suffer from the absence of mercy and we condemn ourselves as much as we victimize others.”

His words remind me of the words that Jews around the world read this past week, the powerful words from the Book of Leviticus. In chapter 19 we read sacred text that outlines what justice requires:

You shall not render an unfair decision, judge your kinfolk fairly. Do not stand idly by the blood of another. Do not hate your fellow in your heart. Do not take vengeance or bear a grudge. Love your neighbor as yourself; I am the LORD.

These words are not simply noble aspirations. No matter what our religious affiliation, or lack of affiliation, these words speak to all of us as a manual for civil society. A community must be governed first and foremost by a moral outlook that treats each individual with fairness and compassion.

Why are we meeting in a religious space tonight? What does religion have to offer our elected representatives? This teaching from the Torah serves as the nexus between religious teachings and the practice of good governance. This is the basis for the values that our religious communities bring to bear on policy, because what affects one affects us all.

Modern-day prophet, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel asked a question that rings true today,

“How many disasters do we have to go through in order to realize that all of humanity has a stake in the liberty of one person; whenever one person is offended, we are all hurt. What begins as inequality of some inevitably ends as inequality of all.”

May all of us hear the voices of morality tonight, from ancient sacred texts and from the families and neighbors of those deeply affected by the suffering and shame that mass incarceration inflicts on us all. May these voices bring our criminal justice system closer to a system of justice infused with compassion.

A Pesach Message: Speak up, Show up, Vote

“… I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values.”

Martin Luther King spoke these words 50 years ago, on April 4, 1967 and they sound as if he were commenting on America today.

One year from now, April 4, 2018, will mark the 50th anniversary of Dr. King's death. Thanks to the initiative of Rabbi Arthur Waskow and The Shalom Center, faith communities across the country will be marking the coming year as an American Jubilee Year of Truth and Transformation.

In his sermon at Riverside Church, “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence,” Dr. King gave voice to a feeling we know today:

“We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now.”

Driven by that sense of urgency, I spoke this past Shabbat about Dr. King’s prophetic call 50 years ago, and how we must answer it today. You can read my message below. Excerpts from Dr. King’s speech can be found here.

Wishing you and yours Chag same’ach—

A joyous holiday that brings us renewed courage and strength,

Rabbi Barbara Penzner

* * * * * * * *

This next year is critical for the survival of democracy, for the survival of our world. We have already seen the dramatic destructive tendencies of this administration and Congress. Executive orders. Congressional repeal of basic protections of women, of immigrants, of our environment. We are in for far worse. When that happens, we will be there for each other, a beloved community, a kehilla kedosha, to provide comfort, courage, and confidence in our cause. And together, we will continue to resist. Because we believe in moral bottom lines over corporate bottom lines. Because we believe in lives over profits. Because our Jewish tradition began with the Exodus, a moral revolution of values, a slave revolt against a self-aggrandizing tyrant. And because our Jewish tradition reminds us at this time of year, and year-round, of that moral revolution.

In the spirit of Martin Luther King, and in the spirit of Pesach, I offer three simple ways to bring that moral revolution into our present and shape a future that we can all share in equally.

Speak up. Show up. Vote. Speak up.

You don’t need to be MLK to speak up. The first to speak up in the Exodus story was not Moses. No one whose name we know. Not any one person. It was the cry of the Israelites. The liberation did not begin with Moses, but with the cry of the Hebrews themselves: “They were groaning under the bondage and cried out; and their cry for help from the bondage rose up to God. God heard their moaning, and God took notice of them.”

The Jewish tradition understands these verses to mean that until the people actually cry out, until they speak about their suffering, until they come together to say “we won’t take it anymore,” nothing changes. The midwives were ready to be leaders, Moses’ mother Yocheved and his sister Miriam were ready, Pharaoh’s daughter was ready, and Moses himself was ready. But no one could take the Israelites out of Egypt until the people were ready. Each of us has a role to play in the task of liberation; when we lift our voices together, we can crash through all obstacles to justice.

How do you speak up? Write letters. Call elected representatives. Urge family & friends in other states to write and call. Use your own words, don’t just repeat catch-phrases. Look people in the eye. Listen attentively and with curiosity. Connect.

Show up.

Jewish tradition may involve talking, discussing, asking questions. But in the end, it is through mitzvot, fulfilling our obligations, doing, that we live our Judaism.

"Rabbi Tarfon and the Elders were once reclining in the upper story of Nitza’s house, in Lod, when this question was posed to them: Which is greater, study or action? Rabbi Tarfon answered, saying: Action is greater. Rabbi Akiva answered, saying: Study is greater. All the rest agreed with Akiva that study is greater than action because it leads to action."  (Talmud)

The Rabbis all agreed that Jews are called to action.

How do we begin every seder?

“This is the bread of poverty, which our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are in need come and celebrate Passover.
Now we are here — next year in the land of Israel.
Now we are slaves. Next year we will be free.”

There are plenty of ways to show up, and they don’t always demand major sacrifices. Yes to rallies and protests. Yes to town meetings and organizing. And yes to taking care of others’ children so the adults can go to actions. Yes to feeding people who are hungry and inviting people to your seder. No to sitting in front of the tv or the computer all day by yourself! Do one act of resistance every day, no matter how small.

Vote.

We proclaim the central message of Passover in the Haggadah: “In every generation, each individual must feel as if he or she personally had come out of Egypt.”

Every individual. Not men only. Not adults only. Everyone. It’s about participation in the story. Not just telling it, but being part of it.

If you believe in democracy, you need to participate. Voting is a combination of speaking up and showing up. Register voters. Help with Get Out The Vote. Insist that your kids, your friends, your colleagues votes. Not just every four years. Not just for president. Democracy is built on down-ballot offices.

Democracy can be dismantled when voters don’t pay attention to those elections.

According to The Hill, in the past eight years, Republicans have gained 1000 seats in state legislatures, leading to a growth from “just under 44 percent in 2009 to 56 percent” after the 2016 election. State legislatures have used that power to gerrymander congressional districts, entrenching incumbent House members with unbeatable majorities. If we care about divided politics, the place to start is making House districts less one-sided, and ensuring that members of Congress hear multiple opinions.

Vote in every election you can. Democracy depends on you.

Speak up. Show up. And vote.

Martin Luther King prophetically calls to us from 50 years ago:

“We must move past indecision to action. If we do not act we shall surely be dragged down the long dark and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

“Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter—but beautiful—struggle for a new world. The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise we must choose in this crucial moment of human history.”

WHAT ARE YOU BRINGING TO CREATE HOLY COMMUNITY?

“The people are bringing more than is needed for the tasks entailed in the work that the LORD has commanded to be done. Moses thereupon had this proclamation made throughout the camp: “Let each man and woman make no further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary!” So the people stopped bringing; their efforts had been more than enough for all the tasks to be done. (Ex. 36: 5-7)

This passage is a fundraiser’s dream! Does it ever really happen that way?

This past Sunday, our seventh grade “Leaving the Garden” group discussed the Jewish approach to tsedaka (the obligation to give). They learned that our priority is on the feelings of the recipient, rather than the feelings of the giver. Therefore, we should show compassion to someone in need, and do everything in our power to preserve the dignity of the receiver.

Our congregation is rich in our willingness to help others and to do it with dignity and compassion. Everyone is to be commended for this generosity, which is so fundamental to our Jewish values and to our world.  On Purim, we exceeded our goal of $250 for Yad Chessed, and raised over $400!

Sometimes, though, it can be easier to write a check to a food pantry than to our own synagogue. The verse quoted from Exodus reminds us of the holy work that goes on right here, and that the work depends on generous donors as well.

Saturday night is HBT’s annual Spring Fling, an opportunity to raise funds to support the holy activities of our temple as well as a time to enjoy each other’s company.

This Torah teaching reminds us that people brought many different kinds of gifts to create a holy space. Think about the different ways that our synagogue depends on the gifts of our members: those who teach, those who lead, those who speak up in the world, those who bring their children to learn, those who come to make up our minyan. These are all valuable gifts that, like gold, silver and bronze, threads of indigo, purple and crimson, precious stones, spices and oils, make it possible for us to live up to our highest aspirations.

This passage also demonstrates that our passion for giving is as important as what (or how much) we give. In Exodus, the Torah tells us that the gifts come from each whose heart is moved. That is, when we contribute to our community, whether in material goods, in volunteer effort or simply showing up, what matters most is that we give from the heart. Our greatest gift is to give ourselves fully to this task. This is what truly builds a holy community.

In a holy community, the business and the holy work are intertwined. When we give to the synagogue, we are doing more than disbursing funds. When we open our wallets, we support the daily workings of our synagogue. When we open our hearts, we create a space for the Divine Presence to dwell among us. This holy community then expands that open-hearted Presence, so that it can transform our broken world. What will you give?

Standing up to Anti-Semitism/Standing up to Hate

Standing up to Anti-Semitism/Standing up to Hate

I can’t recall ever being afraid because I’m a Jew. Until last year, Haman was a fictional anti-Semite. This year, he represents all those filled with vicious and unprovoked hatred.

The Southern Poverty Law Center, which has tracked domestic hate groups for decades, noted a dramatic increase in all hate crimes immediately following the November elections. In the first month, they verified over 1000 incidents of bias-related attacks. In just the first five days after the election, they documented over 400 attacks. Those attacks abated, but the threats have not disappeared.

Since Inauguration Day, over 100 JCCs and Jewish day schools have received phoned-in bomb threats. Three Jewish cemeteries, in St. Louis, Philadelphia, and Rochester, NY, have been the targets of massive vandalism and grave desecrations. 

Locally, the Newton JCC has been threatened more than once. The Solomon Schechter Day School in Newton and the local ADL office received bomb threats this week. Across the country, young children from day care centers and schools have been evacuated swiftly in a manner that undoubtedly causes them mental distress.

Last Friday, a 31-year-old man was arrested in connection with threats made to 10 Jewish and one Muslim institution. That only provides a measure of relief, given the larger continuing threat.

We remain grateful that these cowardly acts have not resulted in the killing or harming of living Jews. We know that hatred in this country has led to severe attacks on immigrants, Muslims, blacks, and the LGBT community, including violence against individuals and the burning of mosques and black churches. Nevertheless, all acts of vandalism are intended to inspire fear.

Anyone who has seen a swastika spray-painted on a home or Jewish building, stepped into a Jewish cemetery where loved one’s stones have been toppled and desecrated, or seen bullet holes in a Jewish school, like the synagogue building in Evansville, Indiana last week, can’t help but feel threatened.

We know that, as Rabbi Mark Sokoll of the Newton JCC has written, “Hate against any one group is hate against all.” When we stand up as Jews against anti-semitism, we demonstrate our pride and conviction to those who wish to frighten us. We must also testify to all victims of hate that these acts will not divide us.

It is up to us to be vigilant in our own Jewish community.

It is up to us to bravely come together as never before.

Here in our temple, our leadership is taking steps to increase our attention to security. We want to make everyone feel safe without creating an atmosphere of dread.

This week of Shabbat Zachor, the Shabbat before Purim when we recall both historic and mythical enemies of the Jewish people, let us contemplate how we can stand up to hatred for all people, and take pride in our community’s perpetual stamina, faith, and courage in response.

Rabbi Barbara Penzner

Rabbi Mark Sokoll offers these ways to show your support, and make your voice heard. Though he emphasizes the threats against JCCs, we can apply any and all of these to other Jewish institutions as well.

1)      SOCIAL MEDIA

Support the JCC on social media by using the #IStandWithTheJCC hashtag with supportive posts across your channels.

Sample posts:

·         Threats against JCCs are threats against the entire community. #IStandWithTheJCC

·         We stand beside JCC Greater Boston. Antisemitism and hate have no place in our community. #IStandWithTheJCC

·         There is no room for hate in our community. #IStandWithTheJCC

2)      CALL YOUR LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE

Calling members of Congress is the most effective way to have your voice heard. Calls are tallied by staffers and the count is given to your representatives, informing them how strongly their constituents feel about a current issue. The sooner you reach out, the more likely it is that your voice will influence their position.

To find the phone number of your local congressman/congresswoman, please click here

Sample script for the call to your U.S. Representative.

Hi, my name is [NAME] and I'm a constituent from [CITY or TOWN in Massachusetts].

I’m calling to urge the Secretary of the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, the U.S. Attorney General, and the Director of the FBI to take swift action to address the bomb threats that have been telephoned in to Jewish Community Centers and schools across the nation, and the rise of anti-Semitic incidents in the last two months. We remind you that participants from all different backgrounds come to JCCs and synagogues and other Jewish institutions for activities, Jewish cultural and religious programming, and opportunities to come together as a community.

We stand together against anti-Semitism and against all hate crimes. Thank you for your hard work.
[IF LEAVING A VOICEMAIL: please leave your full street address to ensure your call is tallied]

WHY WE NEED PURIM

I admit that Purim is one of my favorite holidays. (Check out the chapter that I wrote about Purim in the Reconstructionist Guide to Jewish Ritual, Volume 3.) I know plenty of rabbis who don’t share my preference. Getting dressed up and acting silly make some serious scholars uncomfortable.

 It’s not that I don’t consider myself serious, or a scholar. And it’s not just that Purim is the best example that “being Jewish is fun.” I take Purim seriously, because historically, its creativity, humor, and play-acting provided a welcome antidote to anti-semitism. As such, Purim can also be just what the doctor ordered to sustain us in this time of activism and resistance, not to mention the increasing number of unprecedented acts of anti-semitism across the country.

 The biblical story of Purim is a kind of Jewish communal fantasy blown out of proportion. For Jews who lived under oppression and fear, or who experienced brutality and exile, the Book of Esther and the Purim holiday provided comic relief. The tables are turned on our enemies several times during the story, with some reversals more humorous than others.

 Mordecai Kaplan saw in the story of Esther a Diaspora tale about the oppression by a majority group of a minority, and the Jewish battle for equal rights for minorities. Kaplan saw Jewish spiritual value as the key to the resistance to oppression and the capacity to flourish as a minority people.  He saw Purim as a time to emphasize those values and to inspire creativity and compassion in Jewish life.

 Jewish communities in Europe during the Middle Ages instituted their own “local Purims” to commemorate actual deliverance from an anti-semitic threats. Where extermination and exile were the common practice of local and national rulers, such a deliverance was worthy of joyful celebration. As one on-line source tells it, “Rabbi Yom-Tov Lipmann Heller (1579–1654 and an ancestor of member Susannah Sirkin) of Kraków, Poland, asked that his family henceforth celebrate a private Purim, marking the end of his many troubles, including having faced trumped-up charges.” (I kid you not.)

 Hitler also knew about Purim and, perhaps aware of the power of its humor, banned Jewish from observing the holiday. In words tempting fate in 1944, he mentioned in a speech that if the Nazis were defeated, the Jews could celebrate “a second Purim.”

The Chabad Hasidim tell a story that a Purim teaching by their leader, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, mysteriously caused Joseph Stalin’s death on Purim 1953. That day, March 1,1953, was the day Stalin became paralyzed. When he died four days later, nationwide pogroms against the Jews were averted and the infamous doctors' plot was halted.

The celebration of Purim provides a rich variety of Jewish practices that encourage giving and sharing, dressing up and playing roles and, above all, approaching this one day with a sense of humor and self-awareness, so that we do not fall into the trap of taking ourselves too seriously.  It is for this reason, perhaps that we find in the midrash the idea that in a future messianic time, when all the other festivals are abolished, Purim will remain. Even in a perfect world, we will need to laugh, especially at ourselves.

 Given that our world is far from perfect, why not rekindle our imagination and revel in satire this year on Purim?

 ***Need a little humor to fuel your resistance? Come take part in HBT’s “Alternative Facts Megillah,” an adult-oriented telling of the Purim story for our times.

Saturday night, March 11, 7 to 9 pm. Come in costume and bring Pussy Hats!

Jacob, MLK and the Inauguration

One summer when I was in high school, I was concerned about the upcoming fall semester. In particular, I was worried about my driver’s ed class. Not wanting to be embarrassed, I wanted to know how to drive before I started taking the class. So I asked my father to teach me to drive. My father was a very pragmatic person, whose routine answer to “how do I do this?” was always “very carefully.” He refused to teach me. What I learned then is how uncomfortable it is to live in a time of transition.

This is a time of many transitions. Of course the inauguration is looming. Closer to home, in our synagogue this past Shabbat, we welcomed two dozen new member households. New members always contribute to our community in ways that change us. For these individuals and families, joining a new temple will also bring changes. And this past Shabbat, we read the end of one book, Breishit (Genesis); this coming Shabbat we will begin Shemot (Exodus). We ended with Jacob’s triumphant reunion with his son Joseph in Egypt; the next book opens with the enslavement of their descendants, generations later.

I have since learned something about the power of transitions, whether the beauty of sunrise, the mystery of twilight, or the growth that comes when children grow and move on.

Last week’s portion highlighted the transition from one generation to the next. Jacob knows he is about to die. He gives a special blessing to Joseph’s two sons, his grandsons Menashe and Efrayim. Jacob offers a last will and testament, naming each of his twelve sons. And late in the portion, Jacob dies and is embalmed, and Joseph fulfills his father’s fervent wish to be buried with his forebears back in Canaan. We also read of Joseph’s death, and his wish to be brought back to Canaan (fulfilled by Moses generations later).

The Hasidic teacher Rabbi Moshe Chayim Efrayim gives us a unique and surprising perspective on the value of this time of change.

“Joseph commanded his servants, the healers, to embalm his father. And they embalmed (vayachantu)” Jacob. (50:2-3).

Rabbi Moshe focuses on the word for embalming (vayachantu)—a sign of death—and connects it to a similar word in Song of Songs, “The fig tree has brought forth (chantah) its green figs” (2:13)—a sign of new life. That is, when we face a time when something dies, it is also an opportunity for something new to come about

Our teacher says “And this is what is hinted at by they embalmed (vayachantu), namely, the righteous heal us spiritually, and make us like new beings by causing our light to sprout anew.”

In this winter season, we understand that the death of last year’s flowers and plants makes room for new growth in the spring. What is true in nature, is true spiritually as well. When we face loss of any kind, by letting go we make room for something new to arise. When we perceive a light going out in one place, rather than straining to rekindle a dying ember, we should be working to bring new light into the world.

Dr. King wrote in March of 1958, “…It may be that our generation will have to repent not only for the diabolical actions and vitriolic words of the children of darkness, but also for the tragic apathy of the children of light. What we need is a restless determination to make the ideal of brotherhood a reality in this nation and all over the world.” (The Current Crisis in Race Relations)

This is a time of transition. We have had some time to mourn our losses. Now, with the new day dawning, it is our task to rekindle the light, to face the new day with our ideals intact, with our souls renewed, awakened to new possibilities, and with a newborn resolve that will make the light shine anew.

Wisdom. Power. Wealth. Honor. A Primer for our Elected Officials

When the Massachusetts General Court (House) opened its 190th biennial session on Beacon Hill on January 4 and the members of the House were sworn in, I had the privilege to give a blessing to the chamber.

As the session came to a close I shared a teaching from Pirke Avot, a 2000-year old Jewish text on ethical living. The passage that I chose is a classic Jewish upending of our usual assumptions, and speaks to the noble responsibility of those who hold elected office. Here is the teaching, and my blessing.

The ancient Rabbis ask four questions:

Who is wise? Who is powerful? Who is rich? Who is honored?

And they answer the questions in surprising ways.

Who is wise? One who learns from everyone.

Who is powerful? One who shows restraint over one’s impulses.

Who is rich? One who is content with one’s portion.

Who is honored? One who honors others.

We call on the Holy One, the Source of All, to bless these officers of the Commonwealth, their families, the staff, and all those who work in this building. Bless them all with your gifts of wisdom, power, wealth, and honor.

May these public servants gain wisdom by listening to others, to the thoughtful voices of experts and to the quiet voices of the poor and the needy, to advocates and plain citizens alike. May they gain wisdom from those with whom they disagree as well as those who share their views.

May these public servants use their power, first and foremost, to control their own worst impulses. May they be mindful to restrain the impulse to use power coercively and corruptly, and always to give their very best to the people of Massachusetts.

May these public servants enjoy the wealth that comes from knowing how blessed they are to serve. May they be satisfied with what they have and dissatisfied with what the people lack.

May these public servants be honored for their integrity, compassion, and commitment to justice and bring honor to their office, to this House, and to our Commonwealth.

Amen.