The Plague of Survivalism (Huffington Post)

The Jewish people have a knack for surviving, even in the face of great odds. Sometimes, however, it seems as if that is our only goal.

In the Torah portion Vayigash, Joseph, having grown in power and influence in Egypt after his brothers left him for dead in the desert many years before, now reveals his true identity to his assembled siblings. While his remorseful brothers are in a state of disbelief about his unexpected and seemingly miraculous reappearance, Joseph tries to reassure them and assuage their guilt.

"God has sent me ahead of you to ensure your survival on earth," Joseph informs them, "and to save your lives in an extraordinary deliverance. So, it was not you who sent me here, but God" (Gen. 45:7-8). There is a terrible famine in the land of Canaan, and Joseph, seeing this all as part of a divine plan to ensure his family's (and thus his people's) survival, encourages them to escape the impact of the famine by settling in Goshen. The story of the Jewish people has barely begun, and already survival itself has become a primary focus--and will be so throughout Jewish history.

Unfortunately, a kind of "survivalist" mindset will follow--and I would argue plague--the Jewish people for many centuries to come, one that disproportionately and even corrosively focuses on all those forces arrayed against us that threaten our survival. While there have been real and serious threats to Jewish survival, an almost single-minded preoccupation with them even when we have not been under siege has damaged the way that Jews have looked at the world--and at ourselves. We have been too often in a seemingly perpetual state of crisis, deeply focused on our numbers and a narrative that is both misguided and unhealthy.

Salo Baron, the great Jewish historian, opposed what he referred to as the "lachrymose" conception of Jewish history. According to this narrative--which Baron thought was as prevalent as it was false--the history of the Jewish people is nothing but a series of calamities and tragedies that have threatened our survival, one after the other after the other.

A colleague of mine recently attended an annual gathering of the philanthropic leaders of the North American Jewish community. She was shocked by the level of fear (and even reactionary tone) that permeated the multi-day event. Speakers and participants alike were consumed with and distressed by issues that they felt threatened the very survival of Israel and the Jewish people worldwide: the conflict in Gaza, European anti-Semitism, anti-Israel trends on college campuses, low affiliation rates at Jewish institutions, high intermarriage rates, and the like.

Though so many Jewish leaders are worried about our future, our past suggests that we will be just fine. Our well-being as a people is not about numbers, and it never has been. Devotion, not distribution, has always been our hallmark, and greatest strength, as a people.

Two thousand years ago, in the small village of Yavneh, a group of rabbis boldly transformed the Temple-based religion they had inherited into the Judaism we observe today--and they did it without being paralyzed by the trauma of the Roman siege and sack of Jerusalem. While a tiny and, at times, oppressed minority of the general population, the Jews of Muslim Spain generated a Golden Age during which some of our most important and innovative Jewish thinkers, mystics, and poets emerged and influenced medieval society for generations. And in the face of poverty and pogroms, Jews in Eastern Europe created the spiritual and joyous Hasidic movement, a movement that was led by a small band of itinerant preachers and teachers.

Size doesn't matter. What matters is creativity, courage, and commitment. Our national and communal narrative should not be one of fear and crisis, but of triumph and redemption.

What best defines us as a community of faith has always been qualitative rather than quantitative. Jews have encountered many obstacles over the centuries, and we have always surmounted them, through a balance of fidelity and innovation. To take a seasonal example (associated with the celebratory and miraculous festival of Chanukah), Judah Maccabi and his band of brothers--a miniscule guerilla force compared to the mighty Hellenist army--defeated their occupiers and rededicated the Temple in Jerusalem because of their imaginative, unconventional tactics, as well as their fierce determination.

That is the real miracle we should reflect on at this time of year, and a central message of our history -- the fact that we can evolve as a people and a religion, not in spite of our challenges, but often because of them.

The Terrors of Transition (Huffington Post)

In the Torah portion Shelach, the Israelites stand at the threshold of the Promised Land, the land of Canaan. Uncertain about what they will find there, scouts are sent ahead -- one from each of the twelve tribes -- to reconnoiter the terrain and assess its inhabitants.

It is a point of great transition in the community's life, and great leadership is required.

When the scouts return 40 days later, they offer a conflicting report about the situation. On one hand, they affirm that Canaan is a place of abundance, a land that is indeed flowing with milk and honey. On the other hand, they claim that the people who live there are fierce and powerful, and that the cities are very large and well fortified. The scouts continue: "The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its settlers. All the people that we saw in it are men of great size; we saw the Nephilim there... and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them." (Numbers 13: 32-33).

Due to their fear and anxiety about entering this unknown land, the scouts' account of Canaan and its inhabitants seems overly dramatic. They anthropomorphize the land and transform it into a frightening place that "devours" its own people; they also claim to have witnessed the Nephilim (a mysterious, mythic race of giant beings first referenced in Genesis 6:4).

While the scouts' report seems to be a mix of fact and fiction, the reaction of the Israelites is swift and, based on their previous behavior throughout their journey in the Sinai wilderness, predictable:

The whole community broke into loud cries, and the people wept that night. All the Israelites railed against Moses and Aaron. "If only we had died in the land of Egypt," the whole community shouted at them, "or if only we might die in this wilderness! Why is the Lord taking us to that land to fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be carried off! It would be better for us to go back to Egypt!" And they said to one another, "Let us appoint a captain and return to Egypt" (Numbers 14:1-4).

To a person, all the members of the Israelite community would rather return to the bondage of Egypt than face an unknown future in, and represented by, the land of Canaan. As punishment for their ingratitude and rebelliousness, God decrees that everyone in the current generation twenty years of age and older (with the exceptions of Caleb and Joshua, who try to exhort their people onward) will die in the desert before reaching the Promised Land. After forty years of wandering, the older generation does die, and the younger one, led by Joshua, finally enters Canaan and initiates the next chapter in the life of the Jewish people.

What does this Torah portion teach us about how community changes and evolves?

When we stand at the threshold of something new and unfamiliar, as the Israelites did at the start of this story, there are often many questions that arise in us. What will we find on the other side? Will there be challenges ahead? If so, how will we surmount them? If the challenges are great, might it be a better course of action not to venture forth at all, but to retreat and return to the place from which we began our journey? These questions can be crippling.

Our fears and anxieties about the future can distort our perceptions and affect our attitudes and actions. Our terror over transitions can paralyze us, leaving us frozen in place rather than boldly marching forward toward new possibilities. Or it can cause us to make poor choices, to backpedal, to recoil from fearsome "giants" instead of embracing the adventure of the unknown.

In this biblical tale, the old generation of leaders must die off so that the new generation can move ahead. The Israelites needed to move beyond the timidity and fear of the slave mentality that was so much a part of its "establishment" mindset before it was ready to enter a world of fresh and challenging realities. Their nomadic existence had to give way to a more settled and secure way of life. Their leaders needed to be brash, bold, and fearless, unencumbered by the dark memories and constricting baggage of Egypt.

We are in a period of transition today not dissimilar from the one experienced by our post-Egypt forbears. For the old guard that came of age in the shadow of the Holocaust, steeped in concerns and fears about anti-Semitism and annihilation, the transition is terrifying. Their focus is often on the past, on "continuity," on battling the forces of assimilation and intermarriage, rather than embracing the future. But for younger Jews, and especially for the next generation of Jewish leaders, the current transition is exciting and filled with possibility. Their focus is on discontinuity, on new and disruptive models for Jewish life, practice, and community.

As a Gen Xer, I represent a generation in between the old guard and the millennials. I have tried, along with others in my demographic, to bring about change in the Jewish community. Will our efforts succeed? What will the Jewish future look like? It is too early to know. But one thing is certain: there is no future in looking backwards to an idealized past. Instead, we must move forward and engage, boldly and resolutely, with what lies ahead.

Is the American Dream Dead?

The Occupy Wall Street action in New York has taken root now and expanded into cities throughout the country, expressing itself in sit-ins, marches, blogs, and media coverage. Men and women, young and old, black and white--what unites these many and varied regions, and cohorts, is a single emotion: rage.

Likewise, the national orgy of mourning over the death of Steve Jobs--expressed through makeshift shrines in front of Apple stores from Michigan Avenue to Soho--was united by a different but related solitary emotion: despair.

Rage and despair--these seem to be the two dominant feelings coursing through the veins of today's America. People are pissed and despondent. The "system" that seemed to work pretty well for our parents and grandparents ain't working so well for us. The promise of the American Dream--embodied by a visionary and billionaire like Jobs--has withered and atrophied.

Deep down, are we angry at financial institutions or, rather, the nature of our daily lives? Are people really mourning Jobs or, instead, the death of a dream?

Time will let us know. For now, I'll continue to dream. And I'll pray that I'm not just sleeping.

Go West, Young Man!

Horace Greeley, the influential nineteenth-century newspaper editor and political reformer, made the phrase above known to millions of Americans--and it remains known to us today.  By many accounts, he wrote it largely in connection with the copper rush to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (an area west of the bustling northeast corridor where Greeley lived and worked).  I think of these famous words today because I leave for the UP in a few hours, partly to lead a retreat, and partly to spend some time alone kayaking, hiking, and horseback riding.

What is it about "Going West" that holds so much appeal?

Greeley's full quote is as follows: "Washington is not a place to live in. The rents are high, the food is bad, the dust is disgusting and the morals are deplorable. Go West, young man, go West and grow up with the country."

If we treat "Washington" as a metaphor for urban life, then the impulse to go west becomes much more understandable. And, in over nearly two centuries, it is just as relevant.

Many of us crave a simplicity and serenity that is virtually impossible to achieve in the modern city. We're too busy trying to make money to pay our rents or mortgages to focus on character, let alone community; we're too wired in to electronic gadgets to be self-aware; we're too preoccupied with our narrow social orbits to feel linked to nature, with its awe-inspiring beauty and mind-blowing vastness.

Yoga doesn't cut it for me. Give me mountains, trees, and lakes any day. Give me the West. Get me the hell out of here so that I can feel truly alive.

People Are Pissed

Not every expression of outrage is equivalent, but there is plenty of anger fueling the souls of men and women around the world. From the streets of London, Hama, and Tel Aviv; to the floors of Congress and Wall Street; to households and board rooms from the United States to Greece, Italy, and elsewhere--people are pissed.

Some of these expressions of anger are motivated by a deep, indignant desire to change corrupt governments, institutions, and societies; others are simply base and destructive criminal outbursts.  Yet the question remains: Why all this anger?

In his studies of animals, Konrad Lorenz wrote not only about the famous "flight or fight" response (when an animal is confronted by an adversary or opponent); he also described the link between frustration and aggression (when an animal is faced with adversity or challenge). Today, we human animals are acting out in very similar ways.

People the world over are frustrated and enraged by the geo-political and economic uncertainties all around us; by the horrific challenges of war, poverty, hunger, and changing climates; by new technologies that promise salvation but (too often) add only more confusion and complexity to our lives. The center is not holding. We are being tossed, turned, and tormented by a new world order that we don't fully fathom because it is still going through its own birth pangs. And we are not happy about it.

Welcome to the new millennium. Stick close to your family and friends, because it's going to be one hell of a ride.

Murdoch Mania & the Media

The ripple effect from the hacking and bribing scandals connected to Rupert Murdoch's media empire continues to spread across continents. It has led to public apologies, arrests, resignations, and today even a suicide. More negative and damaging fallout is a mathematical certainty.

But there's a deeper story here. This unfolding, almost epic narrative is about more than the dangers that can occur when one person or corporation becomes too powerful. It is about more than hubris, corruption, and intimidation. It is about the role, and excessive impact and influence, of media--in all of its outlets and forms--in our world.

There is much excitement still about the enormous growth of "social" media, even as the "traditional" forms of media (newspapers, magazines, books) are in a state eclipse. What is so enticing? Information is not knowledge. Yet, like fast food, we can quickly swallow sound-bytes and passively digest data: emotional outpourings from hacked phones, lurid posts on Twitter, and gaffes from politicians are far sexier to most of us than serious debate and discourse on the issues that actually affect our societies.

So turn off your iPad for the day. Ignore Facebook for a few hours. Let the talking heads on CNN and Fox blabber on to themselves about the Casey Anthony trial.

They need you more than you need them.

Slouching Toward Cupertino

As I noted in my last post, we are all living through truly historic times. Whether it is the geo-political situation, the economy both here and abroad, climate change, advances in science and medicine, or any other number of areas, there are some real game-changers emerging. We have not slouched into this new millennium; seismic events have hurled us into and through its walls.

Yet how many of us have spent any serious time thinking about, reflecting on, and assessing these many and varied changes?  It seems that the concurrent rise of technology has turned us into a nation of addicts. After years of resistance, I bought my first smart phone a couple of months ago, an iPhone, and I must confess that I, too, have become addicted to it. But I have also become so dependent on the device that I can see how easy it is to lose one's perspective on the outside world. And how can we change the world if we don't fully understand it? How can we understand it if our eyes are glued to our iPads? Do these new and amazing gadgets make us happier and more fulfilled human beings, or do they make us even more narcissistic than we already are?

What is at risk, I fear, is the total collapse of community itself. Without honest reflection and moral assessment, we will become a nation of self-absorbed individuals, a collective of gadget-dependent cocoons who interact with each other in virtual rather than actual ways.

I, for one, will take a flesh-and-blood embrace over a text or an e-mail any day.

Weiner's Wiener & the Tragicomedy of Our Time

At a time when we are witnesses to revolutions, wars, and the consequences of climate change (i.e., hard news) the media has chosen to pander yet again to our baser desires and has trumped most of the important stories with tales of Anthony Weiner's junk shots.  I'm not sure which is more pathetic--Weiner's lame and juvenile behavior, or our insatiable interest in it.

Martin Luther King was a womanizer.  Gandhi treated his family like crap.  Yet despite their very real personal flaws and imperfections, these men were able to achieve great things.  Does the fact that Rep. Weiner used his Twitter account to send pics of his pecs to female admirers show poor judgment?  You bet, and I feel sorry for his pregnant wife.  He's a schmuck.  But his poor judgment only relates to his personal life.  It has no bearing whatsoever on his legislative skills or accomplishments.  Clinton is another fine example.  He acted like an idiot with Monica Lewinsky, but in my view that had nothing to do with his abilities as President.

I have had enough of our collective voyeurism.  We are living through a momentous period in history, and who knows how things will ultimately unfold.  There could be very dark days ahead--or bright and hopeful ones.  Let's get our heads out of the reality-TV mindset and refocus our attention and energy on what really matters.

Who Needs Foreskin, Anyway?

I just watched some weirdo from the Bay Area debate Rabbi Shmuley Boteach on CNN about the issue of circumcision.  Using a very conventional and worn-out approach, Shmuley defended the practice by highlighting its merits from a medical and physiological perspective--it helps to prevent HIV infection, it enhances the sexual experience for both men and women, etc.

While I am on his side, Shmuley is all wrong.

It is precisely in its primitivity, the tribal character of the brit ritual--with its blood, pain, and mystery--that the power (and hence the validity and relevance) of circumcision lies.  The "hygiene" or "medical" argument is not the correct tactic to use against radical, dogmatic secularists who decry the "barbarity" of our millennia-old ritual; rather, a defense of circumcision should rely on what it has always relied on: fidelity to tradition, a link to our ancestors, the spirituality of the experience.

Muslims practice circumcision as well and have for many centuries.  Do we see them retreating like weasels behind the perceived protection (and supposed validation) of modern science?  Do they feel the need to make justifications and apologies for their ancient religious observances?

Hey, fellow tribespeople: Where is our backbone?

I've witnessed and participated in brit milah rituals from Brooklyn, New York to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, and without fail, they have been some of the most moving spiritual moments in my life--as well as in the lives of the families and communities themselves.  Sure, it's discomforting to watch a baby cry; nevertheless, like the howl of a ram's horn during the Days of Awe, that cry awakens something so deep, so profound, and so transformative in the souls of all those who hear it that its psycho-spiritual power is impossible to deny.  And its practice would be totally myopic and inane to reject. 

Easy, Spartacus: Obama on Israel and Palestine

Let me first state that I agree with most of what President Obama had to say recently about the dire need for a two-state solution.  I concur with the idea that, in the end, some sort of territorial arrangement will have to take place that both ENSURES THE SECURITY of Israel and that also involves LAND SWAPS to make certain that such an objective is realized.  Too many people have failed to highlight this critical element in Obama's speech.  He did NOT advocate a unilateral return of the entire Golan Heights, the Jordan River Valley, or every single inch of the West Bank.

I think that it was a misstep, however, to talk about "pre-1967 borders" in a public and internationally-televised speech from the White House at this volatile and very uncertain moment in the region.  That's the reason behind a lot of the reactionary freaking out that we're seeing right now--as well as Netanyahu's patronizing, professorial rebuke as he sat by the President's side.  Obama, true to his nature and clearly emboldened by the killing of bin Laden, made a big, brash foreign policy statement that was somewhat reckless; Netanyahu, true to his nature, responded with typical arrogance and without any mention of the vital land swap point.  I think that President Obama made up for a good deal of his policy-wonk cockiness in his speech to AIPAC, where he more clearly spelled out his position and also--and necessarily--brought up the total impossibility of negotiating with anybody who considers Hamas (a terrorist organization which strives to destroy Israel) to be a "peace partner."

So now let's all take a deep breath.  Abbas, show some guts and get rid of Hamas once and for all; Bibi, get over yourself and start taking seriously what everyone knows has to happen.

Rodney King was wrong--we CAN'T all get along.  Fine.  So let's get down to the nitty gritty business of talking through territorial issues, ensuring security, and reconfiguring the region into two viable and peaceful nation-states.  Barack and Bibi have puffed their chests long enough.

Second-Hand Noise & Other Postmodern Irritants

One of my recent posts dealt with the issue of boundaries.  I want to pick up on that theme again in light of an experience I had yesterday on the L here in Chicago.

I'd just returned from a series of meetings in lovely Las Vegas, and I was beat.  I caught the Blue Line train at O'Hare Airport and settled into my seat, hoping to have an hour of peace after a long and busy weekend.  Before we 'd arrived at our first stop away from the terminal, I witnessed no fewer than eight people (about 40% of those in my train car) immediately start talking on their cell phones.  And I mean really talking--loudly, emphatically, and unapologetically, as if no one was with them and they were in the privacy of their own homes.

I heard each and every conversation: one young woman was griping about a boyfriend; an older man was having a verbal fight with his wife; a TSA worker was schmoozing with a friend.  And on and on.  I had no choice but to listen to their inanity, in all its minute detail.  I felt like I was trapped in a car filled with a bunch of chain smokers.  Their second-hand "smoke," however, was noise.

Part of me wanted to stand up, grab the cell phones out of everyone's hands, and hurl them out of the door at the next stop.  Part of me wanted to shout aloud, "Turn off your damn phones!  I don't want to hear your conversations and I couldn't care less about what you have to say to your friends and family!"  I restrained myself.

Today, I wonder why.  And I'm mad at myself for keeping silent.  If we have become comfortable enough as a society to say to strangers who are smoking in our face, "Would you mind putting out your cigarette?", then why should we tolerate the noise- and space-pollution of people who don't give a second thought to their surroundings or show sensitivity to the privacy of others?

What would you have done?

Bin Laden: Marked Man or Federal Case?

Suddenly the likes of towering intellectuals such as Michael Moore, Rosie O'Donnell, and even Osama bin Laden's own millionaire son are arguing that, rather than being the object of a targeted killing, bin Laden should have (somehow) been captured and "brought to justice" through a jury trial in the Hague or here in the United States.  Interesting.

These great minds have drawn comparisons with the Nuremberg Trials after the Second World War, which helped to educate the world about the Holocaust, Nazi Germany, and the machinery of genocide.

The analogy is comical.  Osama bin Laden was never the president, prime minister, nor Fuhrer of a modern nation-state.  He led Al Qaeda, a terrorist movement, through a network of cells, couriers, and social media outlets.  He commanded no army or navy, murdered Muslims and non-Muslims alike, and in the end aimed not to capture lands or repel invaders but to incite hatred, violence, and spread a twisted, cultish form of Messianism.

Had it even been possible, bin Laden deserved a jury trial about as much as Charles Manson deserved a talk show.

I have opposed, and always will oppose, state-sponsored capital punishment (a discussion on this topic at another time).  But the extrajudicial killing of a mass-murderer who was in the very thick of plotting yet more mass murders is not only justified, it is morally obligatory.

Are We Becoming a Nation of Schmucks?

One thing I can't stomach is when people use Facebook to tell me where they went for brunch or what they bought at Urban Outfitters.  I really don't give a damn.  It's just too much information and minutia.  Is there no such thing as having boundaries anymore?

We seem to have followed that same trend this past week when it comes to discussing the raid in Pakistan that killed bin Laden.  As some commentators have said already, this is likely the most "non-covert" covert operation ever.  We (and now, of course, the entire world, including the bad guys) know not only which special operations unit carried out the raid, but which specific team; we know the exact number of SEALS who participated; we know they had a dog with them; we know about the new, so-called "Stealth" helicopter; we know the number of minutes the team was on the ground and who they killed and in what sequence; we know that the CIA had surveilled the house for weeks ahead of time.  We know far too many details about the how, when, and where.  And so do the terrorists.

In the weeks and months ahead, there is little doubt that other covert operations will occur, thanks to the data that was collected a week ago.  But now, thanks to the media and a culture that loves minutia so much--and has such a poor grasp of the importance of exercising restraint and respecting boundaries--the very people our troops are stalking will be in a much better position to detect and/or avoid interception and to continue with their homicidal agenda.

When did we become such idiots?

How Do You Spread the "Gonzo" Gospel?

Here I am, after having written 9 books and dozens of magazine and newspaper articles, trying my hand at this (not so) new-fangled medium: the blog. I fought this for years, but I've come to the conclusion that as much as I think that technology and social networks can affect us in negative ways, they can also open up new doors of connectivity like nothing else. And now that I am no longer a congregational rabbi in the conventional sense, I want to start up this online community of seekers, dreamers, thinkers, questioners, doubters, and provocateurs. I have my own gospel to preach—call my approach "gonzo" or "guerilla"—and I plan to start preaching it through this venue. So read my stuff. Write back. Challenge me. Give me kudos or give me crap.  But join this group and jump on the bus with me as we explore this wacky, difficult thing we call the human condition. Come into my tent, sit your butt down, and let's try to figure out--as a community--how to evolve and grow more deeply as spiritual beings, how to critique society, culture, religion, and other trends and tendencies in productive ways, and how to better ourselves and our world by taking the Warrior's Path toward both inner and outer wisdom and transformation.

The Death of bin Laden

The death of Bin Laden was necessary; it was justified; it is not something that should be celebrated in the streets. While his removal should have occurred many years ago, our government and her allies know that this will not end the war on terror. We must remain vigilant and decisive and strong. Sadly, the fight continues.

I saw with my own eyes when the hijacked airplanes, directed by Bin Laden and his lieutenants, flew into the World Trade Center and brought down the twin towers. I counseled at Ground Zero with the other first responders. I helped guide a downtown Manhattan congregation through some of its darkest days. I will never forget those experiences; the memories will never leave me. Yet the reality and the symbolism of today's event makes me feel confident that, in the end and inevitably, evil will never triumph.

Whatever our political views, we owe an enormous debt of gratitude to the military and intelligence community for their diligence, efforts, and ability. We owe a special debt to our special forces. And, despite the inherent disagreements and tensions with them, we need to thank the government and military of Pakistan for their cooperation, even when it was reluctant.

This is not a time to rejoice or to mourn, to relax or to overreach. It is a time to reflect, assess, and pray.

May this world find peace one day. May we all, at long last, be able to lay down our weapons of war and work to heal this fractured world.