Thursday Kavvanah, 4/28/2011 - Mitzvah 101

The Talmud (Yevamot 47a) teaches us that when a non-Jew comes to a rabbi seeking conversion to Judaism, the rabbi is supposed to try to dissuade him/her, and then if the candidate persists, teach him/her some mitzvot (commandments), and specifically the following (from this week's parashah, Qedoshim):

וּבְקֻצְרְכֶם אֶת-קְצִיר אַרְצְכֶם, לֹא תְכַלֶּה פְּאַת שָׂדְךָ לִקְצֹר; וְלֶקֶט קְצִירְךָ, לֹא תְלַקֵּט. וְכַרְמְךָ לֹא תְעוֹלֵל, וּפֶרֶט כַּרְמְךָ לֹא תְלַקֵּט: לֶעָנִי וְלַגֵּר תַּעֲזֹב אֹתָם, אֲנִי יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם
Uvqutzrekhem et qetzir artzekhem, lo tekhaleh pe-at sadekha liktzor; veleqet qetzirekha lo telaqqet. Vekharmekha lo te-olel, uferet karmekha lo telaqqet. Le-ani velager ta-azov otam, ani Adonai Eloheikhem.
When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap all the way to the edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not pick your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen fruit of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger: I the Lord and your God. (Leviticus 19:9-10)

Why did the rabbis of the Talmud identify these particular mitzvot, of all the possible choices in the Torah (roughly 613, depending on how you count), as the essential things that one who is joining the Jewish tribe needs to know? It points to the centrality of two features of Jewish life:

1. Gemilut hasadim - the obligation to take care of those in need with practical deeds of lovingkindness, i.e. supplying them with their basic needs;

2. Derekh eretz - literally, "the way of the land" - fundamental respect for others with whom we share our physical and spiritual environment.

Even though most of us today do not have fields that would allow us to fulfill these apparently agricultural mitzvot, we should go about our lives committed to the spirit of the text. The fundamental mitzvot are social rather than agricultural: take care of others, and play nice in the sandbox.

Wednesday Kavvanah, 4/27/2011 - What does it mean to be holy?

Parashat Qedoshim opens this week with a sweeping mitzvah (commandment):

קְדֹשִׁים תִּהְיוּ כִּי קָדוֹשׁ אֲנִי ה' אֱלֹהֵיכֶם
Qedoshim tihyu ki qadosh ani Adonai eloheikhem
You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy. (Leviticus 19:2)

The question is simply aching to be asked: what does it mean to be holy?

Of course, the answer given by the traditional commentators is all that follows in the rest of the parashah: honoring your parents, keeping the Shabbat, leaving the corners of your fields unharvested for the poor, and so forth. Scholars refer to this series of laws as the Holiness Code.

Perhaps a modern holiness code might include the following general principles: striving to make the right choices (most of the time, we know what they are!), working hard to see the good in others, improving oneself, and making this world a better place.

7th Day Pesah 5771 - Making the Case for Jumping into the Synagogue

(Originally delivered at Temple Israel, Monday, April 25, 2011.)

Hag Sameah.

We read Shirat HaYam this morning - the song of victory that the Israelites sang upon crossing the Sea of Reeds dry-shod. There is a well-known midrash about what happened immediately before they crossed; that the waters had not yet parted, and a brave individual named Nahshon ben Aminadav jumped in, taking the proverbial leap of faith. The water came up to his neck before God parted it. Nahshon, we assume, crossed the dry land with wet clothes. But kudos go to him for jumping in.

A news story crossed my desk this week about a church in suburban Minneapolis that encourages attendance on Easter Sunday by having a lottery drawing for prizes: big screen TVs, video game consoles, and so forth. They spent over $8,000 on these giveaway items. The spiritual leader of this congregation, Pastor Eric Dykstra, claims, “I have no problem bribing people [he apologizes for being crass] with crap in order to meet Christ.” They expected upwards of 5,000 people to attend services yesterday; I did not get a chance to check followup reports to see if they met their goal.

As somebody who spends lots of time thinking about how to bring people into this building, and many hours working hard to make sure that the programming that we have here (services, dinners, schools, adult ed, youth activities, etc.) is appealing to as many people as possible, I was intrigued by this story.

“Really,” thought I. “Maybe we have been overthinking all of this. Maybe all we have to do is give away some ‘crap.’”

You know, to guarantee a minyan every week day, we give away a free iPod. And to make sure that Rabbi Stecker’s upcoming class on Jewish insight into relationships is well-attended, we raffle off a brand-new Blackberry at each session. And think of the possibilities for the Youth House...

Has it really come to this? Not that I buy into Christian theology, but if you’re looking for salvation from the eternal fires of hell by going to church, shouldn’t that be a bigger draw than a Nintendo 3D DS?

Pastor Eric thinks we should get people into shul by any means necessary. I am not sure I agree.

On the other hand, only about 20% of our Religious School students meet the synagogue attendance requirement. I would love to find a way to bring those parents of the other 80% into the synagogue and to help them realize, “Hey, if I do not bring my children to the synagogue to take part in Jewish life, who will?”

Of course, we’re all in a constant struggle for time, and we all continuously wage the battle of investment vs. results. If I buy this 47” LCD TV (for example), will it be worth the money? Will it be better than the TV I have right now? Will it raise my electric bill?

If I send my kid to Syracuse instead of SUNY-Binghamton, will she have a better chance of getting into law school? Will the difference in out-of-pocket expenses allow me to buy a new car?

And, of course, if I go to synagogue, will I get anything out of it? Won’t staying home be a better use of my time? And hey, I could go to the mall and check out big-screen TVs...

Well, what DO we get out of coming to the synagogue? Here are some possibilities:

A few moments in conversation with God
Much more time in conversation with the person next to you
A sense of community
A connection to my people, my past
Hope for the future
Herring in cream sauce (just kidding)

Alas, no TV. But isn’t all that stuff more valuable?

Or maybe I’m living out some kind of curious rabbinic fantasy. Maybe tangible items ARE indeed worth more than the spiritual nourishment that tefillah and communal participation provides. Maybe our spiritual needs are being drowned out by the endless options for consumption. Maybe the qol demamah daqqah (the “still, small voice”) cannot be heard over the din of YouTube videos and the endless clicking of the smartphone keys of texting teenagers.

Meanwhile, I want to contrast the church raffle story with another one: a New York Times article from last week about Kiryas Joel, the village in Orange County whose population consists exclusively of Satmar Hasidim.

By the numbers, here’s a snapshot of Kiryas Joel:
* Lowest per capita income in the US
* Lowest median family income (avg. is about $18K/yr)
* Highest average family size
* Median age is under 12 years old (half the population is not yet bar/bat mitzvah!)

And yet this town shows none of the typical problems that poverty statistics like these would ordinarily show: Virtually no violent crime. No homelessness. No drug use. No malfeasance. And the residents live a fairly spartan, yet committed lifestyle - Dr. William Helmreich, a sociology professor at City College, comments as follows: “They spend whatever discretionary income they have on clothing, food and baby carriages. They don’t belong to country clubs or go to movies or go on trips to Aruba.”

Kiryas Joel represents a kind of idyllic extreme: they have cut themselves off from the larger society, and it works. All (or virtually all) of their children are committed to Jewish life and practice. There is no need to auction off TVs in shul; the very idea would be ridiculous.

Well, OK, so we do not live like the Satmarers do. We are not exclusively immersed in Jewish life and practice, like Nahshon ben Aminadav was in the Sea of Reeds. And frankly, I’m happy about that. We are comfortable living in the modern world with a general affirmation of traditional Jewish practice. That is indeed what we do at Temple Israel, and in the Conservative movement at large.

Ever since the philosopher and traditionally-observant Jew Moses Mendelssohn joined the ranks of the Berlin intellectual elite in the middle of the 18th century, we Jews have lived as part of the fabric of the greater society.

But frankly, we have something to learn from the Haredim in terms of their commitment. Somewhere between Kiryas Joel and the Easter Sunday auction of durable goods, there is a sweet spot of dedication to Judaism without isolation from society; Nahshon’s wet clothes on dry land. And that’s where we need to be.

We are not opting out of gentile America, where the fastest-growing religious identification is “None.” However, as we move forward, we need to make the case for ourselves and particularly our children about why to come to Temple Israel - for school, for services, for youth group activities, and so forth.

Everybody who is here today has made a choice - to put aside all other possible things that you could have done today to come to Temple Israel. You gain something of value, of spiritual value by coming here. We have to take the reasons that we gathered a few minutes ago, and make that case to others.

Two days ago, Shabbat morning services were led by members of the Youth House and other teen members of this community. Many of you told me how happy you were to see teenagers up on the bimah, and at least two parents asked me why we do not do this more often.

Frankly, I too am happy. It was wonderful to see our young adults lead us in tefillah and demonstrate their knowledge and commitment to Jewish life as well as their fine vocal talents.

But later that afternoon, I was left with mixed emotions. The service was months in preparation and promotion. And all told, there were no more than 20 teenagers here in the sanctuary that morning, and I am counting a few that never ascended the bimah. We have over 80 kids enrolled in the Youth House; over 300 teens in this age range (grades 7-12) who are members of Temple Israel and on our email list. Where were they? And this on a Shabbat in the middle of school vacation, with relatively few academic and sports-related activities.

I would love for Temple Israel to put together a task force for discussing what we do during tefillah and creating a vision for synagogue services here, such that our community feels more ownership and connection with what we do on an average Shabbat morning. Such a discussion would, I think, energize our services, and might just bring in a few more attendees, including children and teens. Furthermore, in the coming years we will be re-designing the Youth House program, with an eye toward increasing participation not just among our community, but non-members as well. These are good things.

But the greater need is to bring more children into this room more often. We need to focus on Beth HaGan (the nursery school) and the Religious School to bring those parents here with their children. We need to develop and promote the Tot Shabbat service and the Junior Congregation service to feed into synagogue attendance, and not merely cater to those who voluntarily show up. And really the only way to compete with all the other choices and stresses that families face is to prove to them that there is value in attending.

How do we do that? Simple. We figure it out for ourselves, and then we talk about it. All of us who are here today made the choice; we should be sharing that choice with others. We in this room agree that Judaism is valuable, and I think that most of us would also agree that the Conservative model is also valuable. We need to share it with others, and set the bar higher. We need to dip a bit more than a toe into Jewish life, and model that for our families and friends. I don’t mind walking around in a wet suit and tie on Shabbat; and I hope that you will do so with us.

Hag sameah.

Thursday Kavvanah, 4/21/2011 - Opening the Door at the Wrong Time

What is the central message of Pesah? Is it the removal of hametz from our homes and our hearts? Is it the requirement that in every generation we should see ourselves as having personally come forth from slavery to freedom? Is it the celebration of the spring wheat harvest?

Contextually speaking, the central message is the following:

הָא לַחְמָא עַנְיָא דִי אֲכָלוּ אַבְהָתָנָא בְּאַרְעָא דְמִצְרָיִם. כָּל דִכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵיכֹל, כָּל דִצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח.

"This is the bread of poverty that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat; let all who are in need come and take part in the Pesah festival."

Three observations point to the centrality of this message: (1) it's found right up front in the fifth step of the seder, or order, that we go through on the first two nights of Pesah, just after the Four Questions. (2) We read this after having drunk only one cup of wine. And (3), unlike the bulk of the haggadah, it's not in Hebrew - it's in Aramaic, which is the language that the Jews spoke when the seder originated.

This was the message that the ancient rabbis wanted us to take away from Pesah - that it is our duty to remember those that are hungry, even as we sit down to eat a huge, festive meal. Freedom from slavery means that just as we must procure our own food, so too must we see to it that all are fed.

Why, then, do we open the door AFTER dinner, ostensibly to welcome the prophet Elijah? The proper time to open the door is right at the beginning, to demonstrate that we mean it when we say, "Let all who are hungry come and eat."

The Paschal Lamb in the Third Millennium

Here's a stunning article from the Forward newspaper about livestock ready for the slaughter. The Jewish people have not formally sacrificed according to ancient law for nearly 2000 years, and there are certain legal and logistical challenges to doing so, primary among them that the messiah/mashiah/anointed descendant of the Davidic line has not yet arrived. But these guys are ready, should the need arise.

I would hazard a guess that not too many Conservative rabbis have signed on to this. Happy Pesah!

Shabbat HaGadol 5771 - Seeking Spiritual Purity Through Twitter

(Originally delivered on Shabbat morning at Temple Israel, April 16, 2011.)

This is one of the more frantic periods of the Jewish year, a time of scrubbing, cooking, preparing, searching, burning, and so forth. And then comes the parade of relatives, the fabulous dinners, the new Maxwell House haggadah (did anybody here find it?), birkat kohanim at Temple Israel, and of course the 2nd Night Seder downstairs led by yours truly, and then seven more days of gastronomic mediocrity.

But the spring cleaning mandated by Pesah is not just about cleaning. There is, I am certain, a higher purpose. And that purpose is what makes Judaism and Jewish life continue to speak to us, continue to draw people to synagogues such as this one, and will continue to make Conservative Judaism in particular a viable option in the future. American Jewry will always have a need for synagogues that are traditional yet open, non-judgmental, and non-coercive; places where they may seek meaning and holiness and yes, spiritual purity.

Before we address this, let’s take a moment to compare Pesah to another holiday, one that is almost precisely half a year away: Yom Kippur, about which we read in today's parashah, Aharei Mot. These two occasions stand in opposition to each other across the circle of months, and yet share so many traditions and objectives:

1. Both require forms of physical denial related to eating.

2. Both invoke themes of redemption.

3. There are purification customs that are common to both: some immerse themselves in a miqveh prior to both YK and Pesah; some wear the kittel, the traditional white garment that symbolizes purity, on both festivals.

4. Pesah begins on the 15th day of the month of Nisan, which is the first month of the year; Yom Kippur falls on the 10th day of Tishrei, which is the seventh month, but the first month that falls in the new year.

And so forth. Put another way, Pesah is the reflection of Yom Kippur. Call it Hag Ha-Aviv, the festival of spring, or Hag Ha-Herut, the festival of freedom, or even Hag Ha-Matzot, the festival of unleavened bread, but its deeper meaning may be found in the requirement to cleanse.

And that cleansing is not merely physical - it is also spiritual. The external requirement to clean thoroughly one’s home reflects an inner struggle for purification for internal spring cleaning as well.

Cleaning our homes, kashering our kitchens, these are all things over which we have real control. Our minds, our bodies, and our lives, sometimes less so. But going through the annual ritual in preparation for Pesah is something like the Stanislavski method for acting - the physical act elicits a certain emotional response.

On some level, I think, we all want to be pure. And we want our children, our parents, our friends to be pure as well.

But life is not pure; life is complicated and messy. Yes, there are happy moments: celebrations, holidays, small victories, and so forth. But there are unhappy, ugly moments as well. I don’t have to name them - we all know what they are. And no matter how happy we are, no matter how satisfying or complete or joyous one’s life is, we all eventually hit stumbling blocks. And those stumbling blocks are the sources of tum’ah, of spiritual impurity in our lives. Most of us want to be rid of that.

The eternal possibility of purity, of clean, unbesmirched souls in the face of so many opportunities for the opposite is one reason that many of us keep coming back to synagogue, keep participating in Jewish traditions. What are the three most-observed Jewish holidays? Attending a Pesah seder is the second (after lighting Hanukkah candles); the National Jewish Population Survey of 2000 indicated that two-thirds of us go to a seder annually, more than fast on Yom Kippur and more than three times as many of us who keep kosher at home.

These are three holidays that work well for American Jewry (unlike, say, Shabbat: only 28 percent of American Jews light Shabbat candles regularly, and fewer still attend synagogue on Shabbat). I’m not in a position to tease out all the possible reasons for this, but still it is unique that two of these top three have to do with spiritual cleansing.

We have, I think, a deep-seated desire to seek purity - clean hearts, clean minds, clean bodies.

* * *

Last Shabbat, we had about 150 visitors to our community. Teenagers and staff from all over Nassau County came to the USY Chazak Division Spring Kinnus (convention), which we held over at the Youth House. There were, over the course of the roughly 44 hours that they were here, a number of holy moments. Imagine 150 young Jewish women and men singing together the words of Qabbalat Shabbat, welcoming Shabbat in unison. Picture those same teenagers learning Jewish text together. If you listen, you might still hear the echoes of raucous Shabbat songs with ruah, with spirit, in the USY tradition.

USY is an institution that works, where the older kids lead the younger kids in tefillah, in learning, in doing. I was lurking in the back of the room, mostly unseen, which is really a true pleasure for a rabbi: to be in a room full of Jews and NOT be needed.

What was particularly inspiring, however, was the willingness of these children to lead each other - that there were high school students in the room that stepped forward to be in charge, Jewishly, to take the red heifer by the horns and forge ahead and make Judaism happen. On Sunday morning, decked out in tallitot and tefillin, we were treated to a Shaharit (morning) service that was seasoned with video snippets from the movie Shrek, arguably one of the most surreptitiously Jewish animated movies of recent years. Not my cup of tea, exactly, but it was outside the box, and the kids were captivated by tefillah.

Now, I’m not suggesting that teens are necessarily coming to USY events because they are in search of purity. (Actually, more likely it’s quite the opposite.) I am, however, pointing to the fact that USY works. It brings young people from Conservative communities together, and not just for social reasons.

We need to focus on what works. The need for purity, spiritual cleanliness may appeal to many of us. But it has to be available, it has to be accessible and understandable and delivered through simple, meaningful rituals. As one of my colleagues in the Rabbinical Assembly, Rabbi David Wolpe of Sinai Temple in Los Angeles has been stating publicly for some time now, what we promote has to fit on a bumper sticker.

Some of you might know that I recently started using Twitter. For those of you who are not familiar with this new medium, let me explain: you can post, or “tweet,” as frequently as you want, and people who are “following” you can read what you write. The catch is that a tweet cannot exceed 140 characters. So you have to be succinct, even to the detriment of proper grammar and spelling.

The guys who created Twitter understood that the future consists of many small chunks of data. I know I sound cynical, but I’m fairly certain that 140 characters is about the limit of what most people will willingly read without too much investment, in today’s world of infinite technological switchability.

I bring this to your attention because the popularity of Twitter is yet another sign that we are undergoing a major paradigm shift in how we relate to each other. Judaism, and in particular Conservative Judaism is subject to the same social trends as all of our other lifestyle choices. (And involvement in Jewish life is more of a choice than it has ever been.)

It is no coincidence that the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism has just published a new strategic plan, one that defines the mission of our movement as follows:

• To transform and strengthen our kehillot (congregations) in their effort to:
o inspire meaningful prayer
o sustain a culture of lifelong Jewish learning
o nurture religious and spiritual growth
o promote excellence in kehillah leadership

(By the way, that’s 235 characters, and that’s less than half of the new mission statement.) They did not mention spiritual purity, per se, but I think it falls under at least two of those bullet points.

If the movement is indeed to continue, it must find new ways to do all of the above - to bring the themes of Judaism into people’s lives, to help them seek spiritual cleansing on Pesah and Yom Kippur, given the current cultural and technological milieu. We must take what works and emphasize those programs and institutions, and develop new ones that work for today. And if that means that the traditional synagogue model is replaced by something else, something that can be served in 140-character chunks, so be it.

USY works. The Ramah camps work. The Twitter model? Not yet. Regardless, the fundamental search for purity, or holiness, or meaning, is what we need to focus on as a congregation, as a kehillah, and indeed as a movement, as we boldly sail into the future.

Shabbat shalom, and hag kasher ve-sameah.

Thursday Kavvanah, 4/14/2011 - Kashering the Soul

As Pesah approaches and we grow more frantic with completing all the necessary preparations in time, I am reminded that Pesah, like Yom Kippur (exactly half a year away), is as much about the spiritual cleanse as the physical. On this holiday, we "fast" for eight days by denying ourselves dietary staples, as we invoke themes of redemption and purity.

Spring cleaning is not just for the house and the kitchen; along with our external environments, we kasher our souls for Hag Ha-Aviv, the Festival of Spring. Go ahead, get down on your knees to scrub that oven - it's good for you.

Tuesday Kavvanah, 4/12/2011 - The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring

A week away from Pesah, the temperature is climbing gradually. Pesah is as much about spring renewal as it is about freedom; at least two of the symbols on the seder plate are there to remind us of spring, but the earth is dropping natural hints all over the place.

This morning when I arrived at Temple Israel for our morning minyan, I was greeted by a floral explosion right outside the chapel windows - the tree that sits just outside has blossomed. At the end of Shaharit, as we were wrapping up our tefillin, we recited the following berakhah, which is customarily recited when one sees trees in bloom for the first time each year:

ברוך אתה ה' אלקינו מלך העולם
שלא חיסר בעולמו דבר
וברא בו בריות טובות ואילנות טובים
להנות בהם בני אדם

Barukh atah Adonai, eloheinu melekh ha-olam
shelo hiser be-olamo davar
uvara vo beriyot tovot ve-ilanot tovim
lehanot bahem benei adam.

Praised are You Adonai our God, who rules the universe,
which lacks nothing;
for God created fine creatures and pleasant trees
in order that humans might enjoy them.

The berakhah says nothing about flowers. Rather, this is a larger opportunity to appreciate the trees and the other features of the environment and our enjoyment of them, which returns every spring.

Pesah is in bloom! Happy cleaning.

Thursday Kavvanah, 4/7/2011 - Steadying the Rollercoaster of Life

As a rabbi, I am with people for all sorts of lifecycle events: birth, death, marriage, divorce, and so forth. These events often fall on top of each other, and occasionally within the same family.

This morning, I was with a family celebrating their son's becoming a bar mitzvah (one who reaches the age of Jewish adulthood in the context of Jewish law at age 13) as he put on tefillin ("phylacteries" - leather straps and boxes containing words of the Torah that are worn during Shaharit, the morning service) for the first time and read from the Torah. Meanwhile, the boy's cousins had just suffered the loss of the patriarch of the family, and the funeral was held just an hour and a half after the tefillin service. Nonetheless, the cousins were there, celebrating with the bar mitzvah boy.

Judaism sanctifies time with holidays and lifecycle rituals; such ceremonies give our lives meaning and framework. That joyous and sad moments occasionally coincide reinforces for me the sense that life can be a rollercoaster of emotion, one which can be steadied by said spiritual framework.

עֵץ חַיִּים הִיא לַמַּחֲזִיקִים בָּהּ
Etz hayyim hi lemahaziqim bah
The Torah is a tree of life for those who grasp it

Holding on to the Jewish framework helps alleviate the angst of high and low. That's why I do what I do.

State of the Youth House, 2011

(Originally published in the Temple Israel Voice, 4/1/2011.)

Once Purim has passed, the rest of the Jewish school year always seems to speed toward Shavuot and hence the end quite rapidly. From my vantage point as the interim director of the Youth House, it has been quite a year. Rabbi Stecker, the lay leadership and I set a few goals for the Youth House this year, goals that were not entirely met, but that we hope will continue to be on the table as new leadership takes over. Here they are:

1. The Youth House should be open to all local Jewish teens in grades 8 to 12. While it has always (at least in recent memory) been available to non-members of Temple Israel, it was generally something that you had to know about to join, and only those who were enrolled had access to YH activities. This year, we have tried to expand the pool of participants by sending out our updates and information not just to those who come on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but to all TI member teenagers in our age range, and also non-members for whom we have email addresses.

For nearly every YH event this year, there have been two prices: one for students enrolled in the YH academic program, and one for everybody else. This has in fact encouraged non-enrolled students to come our activities, because we have made it clear that all our welcome.

We have a wonderful facility and an excellent program for teens that has the potential to attract many others whose families have never been associated with Temple Israel. With wider promotion and more savvy social networking, the Youth House could very well become the primary center for Jewish teens on the North Shore.

2. Youth House programming needs to be more flexible to accommodate the busy schedules of our teens. Parents and kids are more selective about what they choose to participate in, and are less likely to commit lots of time to the Youth House. The Youth House needs to function more as an a la carte activity center: classes can be available on Tuesdays, Thursdays, or both days, and there will be the monthly social action program Team Tikkun as well as other social action programs on Sundays, and some sort of regular trip to Israel, and the fall, spring and winter retreats, and March of the Living (we have 5 Temple Israel members participating this year), and so forth. Rather than functioning on a membership model, the Youth House might work well with a variety of options for participation. The bar will be set low for those who want only minimal participation, and many options will be available for those who want more.

3. The Youth House needs to develop greater involvement with USY and Kadima. We are not alone! There are other Jewish teens on Long Island, and all over the country and the world. Although we have had a few participants in various regional USY events from year to year, we think that the Youth House program would benefit from more involvement. In a dramatic attempt to raise the interest in USY, we are holding the Chazak division’s Spring Kinnus here at the Youth House next week (April 8-10). There will be around 150 teenagers from all over Nassau County coming to stay with us and socialize as they celebrate Shabbat in an appropriate context. This has not happened at Temple Israel in recent memory, and is a credit to our Youth Director Joe Pearlman for helping to put it together. (By the way, we probably still need help housing teens; contact me or Joe ASAP if you can help!)

Kadima is the Conservative youth group for kids in 6th through 8th grades, and although we have had a few Kadima events this year, we think it would be a benefit to the Youth House to develop this program further as well. It would also serve as a feeder to USY.

4. There should be an annual subsidized Youth House trip to Israel. Children who fulfill the requirements of the entire Religious School program and continue attending through Hebrew High School should be taken together on a trip to Israel some time during the 11th or 12th grade. This would be a positive incentive to attend, and would be something that the kids would all look forward to. Our trip to Israel has, in fact, galvanized the Youth House membership, and has in fact generated new members. To have such a trip annually would be a great community-building program.

5. The Youth House needs some official documents: a handbook and a mission statement. I began work on a handbook last summer, although the day-to-day running of the institution as well as my other job (that of the Associate Rabbi of Temple Israel) conspired to prevent me from finishing it. The Youth House, it seems, has been running on momentum for a number of years; given that I am the fourth director in five years, continuity has been somewhat lacking, such that the goals and objectives are now unclear. A good policy handbook would give everybody affiliated with the institution - parents, teens, educators, etc. - clear guidelines for how it works, what to expect, and so forth.

Meanwhile, the Youth House needs its own mission statement, distinct from the Mission Statement for Education that was drafted by Project Re-Imagine a few years back, to help focus the academic and social offerings. It is not enough to continue doing things just because they have always been done that way; every now and then we must re-evaluate, and the time has come.

* * *

There are many challenges to the building of a successful youth program, and we have many pieces in place already. But as I stated during one of my High Holiday sermons, the Youth House does the holiest work of any part of Temple Israel. As such it is all the more important to continue to reshape and redefine it. I look forward to being part of that conversation as the new director starts pouring fresh ideas into the mix in the coming year; I hope to hear your voice as well.

Tuesday Kavvanah, 4/5/2011 - Agreement of Mouth and Heart

I am currently studying the first order of the Mishnah, Zera'im ("seeds"), and wading through vast swathes of ancient agricultural laws - what may be harvested during the shemittah (Sabbatical) year, for example, and what qualifies as tithed produce - complicated by a range of botanical Hebrew vocabulary that never came up in ulpan.

However, last night I came across a rabbinic gem. If one vows to donate a certain portion of produce, and accidentally called it the wrong type of offering,

לא אמר כלום, עד שיהא פיו וליבו שווין.
Lo amar kelum, ad sheyehei piv velibo shavin.
He has not said anything valid until his mouth and heart are in agreement. (Terumot 3:8)

How often is it that our mouths and hearts are in true alignment? Don't we often say things that we do not mean, whether accidental or on purpose? Is it even possible to expect such harmony?

The Mishnah is pointing to a fundamental feature of the human psyche - that we are complicated, and that our words do not always reflect our intent, such that we cannot even necessarily assume the validity of the vows of another. Of course, we already know this about ourselves. To assume this of others, on occasion, may help us to understand better those around us.