• Op-ed

~~~ “Our scriptures are quite clear about this — that God is never impressed with prayers when actions are not informed by them. Nor does God spare us from the consequences of our deeds which always, in the end, matter more than the words we pray.” -Rev. Mariann Edgar Budde I often wonder how the prophet Natan felt as he embarked on the uncertain path of rebuke to the all-powerful-womanizing King David. Was he scared of retribution, reprimand, or worse? How did Moses muster the courage to approach Pharoah and demand the release of the Israelite people, despite his self-doubt as we read this week? And how did Jeremiah and Isaiah have the resolve to lambast the corrupt leadership of their time, calling out the people of Israel for having gone astray? This week, as so much is unfolding in Israel – we are anxiously awaiting the return of four more hostages tomorrow evening; we saw the resignation of the Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi, and Itamar Ben Gvir and his party Otzma Yehudit left the government in protest over the hostage release deal – we also heard the words of a modern-day prophet preaching her truth from her powerful pulpit. It’s not often that clergy have an opportunity to speak uninterrupted directly to the leader of the free world, continuing in the tradition of the biblical prophets in playing the role of social critic, moral standard bearer, and speaker of truth to power. During the post-inauguration national prayer service, Rev. Mariann Edgar Budde, Episcopal Bishop of Washington, preached a masterful sermon (which begins at minute 56 and goes for 14 minutes) in which she directly called on President Trump to protect those who are fearful because of their identity – whether as immigrants or as members of the LGBTQ+ community – whom the President has singled out in his executive orders and his inaugural speech. As I listened to her calm yet confident address, it dawned on me that this is precisely what Israel needs. Just like the ancient kings of Israel who had prophets to serve as moral and ethical checks and balances, so in Israel today, such prophetic voices are needed. Sadly, it would be laughable to suggest that the Chief Rabbinate play such a role. But why is that? Why do chaplains in other countries undertake roles of spiritual guidance and pastoral care, while in Israel, they seem only to be functionaries of the Orthodox establishment tasked with the [not-insignificant] tasks of maintaining synagogues, kashrut standards and advocating rights and rites of the religious, but far from setting the moral and ethical tone of how a Jewish State, a Jewish military, and Jewish society should behave. The Two Chief Rabbis of Israel have only made the news recently for criticism of the lowering of resources allocated to “religious services” and for requiring increased security after a death threat against them last month. They have not used their largely ceremonial positions even to entertain a discussion about what Jewish law has to say concerning the moral dilemmas of our time. Should the hostage release deal be a priority due to Pikuach Nefesh (the Jewish directive to prioritize saving life above almost everything else)? Are all of Israel truly responsible for one another? Should we not be mindful and influenced by the gravity and high priority to which our tradition assigns the redemption of captives? Where were they when now-former Minister of National Security Itamar Ben Gvir railed against the deal? And why was not the entire gamut of the “Religious” establishment not calling out for “all of Israel to be responsible for one another?” Why were they not calling for the government to do all its power to bring back other Jews whose lives are in danger? We’ve seen courageous rabbinic leadership in the past from Chief Rabbis, such as the late former Sephardic Chief Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef, who used his mastery of Jewish law to rationalize that under certain circumstances, giving up land could be permissible in Jewish law, mainly if it meant achieving a “real peace” and saving lives, prioritizing the concept of “pikuach nefesh” over territorial claims.[1] Where are the Israeli versions of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde to display admirable courage and use a religious voice to advocate for “the Stranger, the Widow, and the Orphan,” who the Torah identifies as the powerless and vulnerable in our society? What is needed in Israel today is a fundamental reimagination of what Judaism is and what it means to be Jewish in the Jewish State. Rather than see halakha (Jewish law) as a technical framework to determine what is ritually permissible or forbidden, these past two years of tumult – during the crisis against democracy and during this war – demand a different kind of moral and religious leadership. Watching the overwhelmingly emotional reunions between Romi Gonen, Emily Damari, and Doron Steinbrecher as they left the house of bondage and returned to their borders into the warm, ecstatic embrace of their families and friends this past Sunday, we hope and pray that the deal that secured their release will only continue this coming Saturday night and beyond.  Many of us rejoiced at the site of their return, despite the pain of the high price paid as terrorists with blood on their hands will now go free. As we celebrated the three hostages’ release, many spouted verses from the TaNaKh[2] and offered blessings from our liturgy. As Jews, that is what we do. Let us also use this moment to say that traditional Jewish ethics requires an approach to the reality of Jewish political power wielded by the Israeli state that is radically different from the dominant view in Israel. Too many still believe that the Orthodox establishment has a legitimate monopoly on Jewish law and Jewish tradition, and too often, it is the secular judicial voices who are the moral ombudspeople of our times. The power of religion is not only in the framework for daily life or the facility to celebrate lifecycle and annual holiday celebrations. The role of religion, among other things, is to provide rhyme, reason, and guidance for how we, as Jews, conduct ourselves in the world. To serve as moral checks and balances and to ask questions of “should we…” rather than “could we…”. Our Reform Rabbis in Israel have spent the last 15 months using their voices and pulpits to comfort the afflicted and the suffering and apply our tradition’s moral and ethical lessons to our contemporary context. Just imagine if the Prime Minister and his ilk would come and sit in the front row of our synagogues and listen to the courageous moral leadership of our rabbis and leaders. It might not change him or the situation, but it would be a good start.