Showing posts with label women of the wall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label women of the wall. Show all posts

Friday, July 19, 2013

We Were All At Sinai. (Women, Too.) - Va'et-hannan 5773 (Summer Sermon Series #4)

Today’s topic is egalitarianism, the principle that men and women are equal under Jewish law. This is an especially hot item today, given some high-profile recent events in the Jewish world. 

The curious thing is, I thought that the argument over women’s roles in Judaism ended thirty years ago! I grew up in a Conservative congregation that counted women as long as I could remember. My mother served for years as a gabbayit and frequently read Torah. Temple Israel became egalitarian in 1976, when Rabbi Waxman’s wife Ruth was called to the Torah, and chanted the haftarah as well. I never thought that in 2013 we would still be talking about it.

And yet we are, perhaps largely due to the activities of Women of the Wall, the group of women, Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist, that meet regularly every Rosh Hodesh for a service at the Kotel, the Western Wall. I mentioned last week that in their first service since the Israeli Supreme Court officially sanctioned their service, including the wearing of tallit and tefillin and praying together out loud, a large group of Haredim (often but inaccurately called “ultra-Orthodox”) attempted to obstruct them by harassing the 350 worshippers and boxing them out of the Kotel plaza by busing in yeshivah girls at 6:30 AM. WoW has kept the issue of egalitarianism at the fore in the wider Jewish community, both in Israel and here.


Judaism’s segregation of women and men into separate and unequal roles is a long-standing tradition, but one that we should work even harder to reverse. After all, we live in a world in which women are a majority of college students. They may not yet earn as well as men, but nobody thinks twice today about female doctors, lawyers, CEOs, or politicians. Why should the situation be any different in the synagogue?  In a world in which women are presidents and prime ministers, how can we countenance denying them equal leadership roles in matters of faith?

And while the majority of our ancient books - the Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible), rabbinic texts - reflect the position of women in the eras in which these books emerged, we no longer live in those times. Halakhah / Jewish law has changed throughout the ages to reflect new social realities, and it should continue to do so today. There is a rabbinic principle in halakhic analysis called “shinui ha-ittim,” loosely translated as, “times have changed.” Sometimes, we have to account for the fact that the world continues to move forward, and what applied yesterday may not still be valid today. As a people, and indeed as a species, we mature, evolve, we learn; so too do our laws and customs.

So why was it so surprising, for example, when one of the new members of the Israeli Knesset, Dr. Ruth Calderon, a professor of Talmud at Hebrew University, gave a Talmudic lesson to the Knesset at her swearing in? The original Hebrew video of this on YouTube has had over 200,000 views, a very large number for a relatively small Hebrew-speaking population. (Here is a version with English subtitles.) It is a beautiful and heart-warming speech that I urge you to view. 

It is surprising because we are still in a transitional time, a time in which many quarters of the Jewish community still reject full female participation in Jewish life, still do not call their daughters to the Torah in acknowledgment of becoming bat mitzvah, still segregate women on the other side of a mehitzah, which can be as minimal as a curtain and as extensive as a complete wall, and justify all of this with the apologetic statement that “women are on a higher spiritual plane, and therefore do not need the mitzvot to which men are obligated.”

Of course, this has been the custom for hundreds and maybe thousands of years, and I do not wish to cast aspersions on the way that others worship, because then I would be just like the Haredim that are trying to obstruct WoW. However, times have changed. Women and men share much more than they used to, and not just the workplace. Statistics show that among younger couples, men are far more likely today to stay home with the kids while the wife works, and to share in running the affairs of the household. We are living in fundamentally different times. And we here in the Conservative movement more readily acknowledge the changes in gender roles in the wider society, and reflect them in our Jewish practice.

Those that say that we in the Conservative movement have gone off the traditional rails because we have enabled womento participate fully are right only with respect to history. But in terms of halakhah’s response to modernity, they are the ones who are wrong. And we have traditional sources on which to base our elevation of women in Judaism.

As a simple example, there is a clause found multiple times in the Talmud that is relevant here. It goes like this:
שאף הן היו באותו הנס
She’af hen hayu be’oto ha-nes.
Literally, it means “since they (feminine) were part of the same miracle.” It’s used in three places: once in reference to women’s obligation for reading Megillat Esther on Purim (Megillah 4a), once in reference to women’s obligation to light Hanukkah candles (Shabbat 23a), and once referring to women’s obligation to drink four cups of wine at the Pesah seder. This last one is most applicable today, as we read the Ten Commandments. Women must drink the four cups of wine because they were redeemed from Egypt along with the men. Well, the Torah also tells us (Exodus 20:15, e.g.) that kol ha’am, all the people, witnessed the giving of the Torah on Mt. Sinai, shortly after the Exodus from Egypt. The women were there, too, and as much a part of that seminal, covenantal moment as the men.

Many followers of traditional Judaism swear up and down that the only three positive, time-bound mitzvot / commandments to which women are obligated are making hallah, lighting Shabbat candles, and going to the miqveh, and they are exempt from all others. They are wrong. This is a mistaken understanding of rabbinic tradition, and the Talmud mentions many other mitzvot to which women are obligated in addition to the three I have identified above. Here are just a few examples: Berakhot 20a-b and Eruvin 96a suggest that women may put on tefillin; Megillah 23a states that a woman may read Torah before the congregation; Menahot 43a states clearly that women are required to fulfill the mitzvah of tzitzit, etc.

Reading in the larger sense, the fact that women have traditionally been excluded from the performance of many mitzvot is more about sociology than what is found in traditional Jewish sources. The rabbis defined a woman as something less than a man, in the same boat with children and slaves, because that is how women were understood in Israel and Babylonia 1500 years ago, and in so doing they exiled women to the other side of the mehitzah.

The Conservative movement has, since the mid-1980s, encouraged women’s equal participation; we have ordained female rabbis since 1985. The vast majority Conservative synagogues are egalitarian.

Given how times have changed, it is therefore upon us to continue the struggle to bring women to the same status in Jewish life as men, to offer women the same opportunities for participation as men have traditionally been given. How can we do this? By continuing to call our girls to the Torah as benot mitzvah, to teach female members of our community to be shelihot tzibbur, prayer leaders, and Torah readers, to encourage women to take on other mitzvot traditionally thought of as masculine, such as tallit and tefillin, and generally to provide more opportunities for women as well as men to participate fully in Jewish life, on equal terms.

And by the way, it is not only the Conservative movement that acknowledges this. No less an Orthodox authority than Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, the pre-eminent halakhic decisor of Orthodoxy, gnashed his teeth and invoked the inflexibility of halakhah in the face of modernity when he conceded in a 1976 teshuvah (rabbinic answer to a halakhic question; Iggerot Moshe OH 4:49) that women may indeed put on a tallit, blow the shofar, and shake the lulav, and recite the appropriate berakhot. Not that many women in Orthodoxy do these things, but in theory, they can under Rabbi Feinstein’s authority. (To be sure, this was not a concession to the Conservative movement. Rabbi Feinstein elsewhere insisted that Conservative synagogues are not synagogues, and that Conservative rabbis are not rabbis.)

This is Shabbat Nahamu, the Shabbat of comfort, when we begin the arduous process of healing and rebuilding in the wake of Tish’ah Be’Av, the saddest day of the Jewish year and the commemoration of the destruction of both the First and Second Temples. Today we read the first of seven special haftarot that speak of redemption, as we look toward Rosh Hashanah and the holiday cycle of Tishrei. And there was a hint of reconciliation from Orthodoxy this week: the Orthodox Union (OU) and the Rabbinical Council of America, the largest body of Modern Orthodox rabbis, issued a statement this week against the protests that have taken place at the Kotel. While not exactly endorsing Women of the Wall and their struggle, the carefully-worded document includes the following:

Recently we have witnessed a frightening exacerbation of internal discord and an ominous intensification of inflammatory rhetoric. We have heard vile insults, offensive name-calling — including the inciteful invocation of the name 'Amalek' — and vicious personal attacks emanating from all sides on the various troublesome issues that we now confront. We have even witnessed physical violence. Indeed, in recent months we have seen precincts of Jerusalem’s Old City, in the shadow of the destroyed Temple for which we mourn today, become a venue for provocation and insult, rather than a place of unity for the global Jewish community.
 
We urge all Jews to celebrate the diversity of our community, whatever our ideology or choice of head covering. Each of us — men, women and children — is a cherished member of our people and we must educate all members of our community to honor and respect each other. We pray that all will one day soon glory in the rebuilding of our nation and our Temple.
OK, so it does not exactly say, “let’s build an egalitarian section at the Kotel.” But it is a statement against sin’at hinnam, the causeless hatred for which the Second Temple was laid waste on Ninth of Av in the year 70 CE. And that should be what Shabbat Nahamu is all about. We are all in this together, and we cannot let our internecine theological disagreements drive us apart.

We were all at Sinai. Women and men. So says the Torah. And we are all equally permitted to partake of the full extent of what Jewish life offers. We can live and worship comfortably alongside those who do not accept egalitarianism, but we must continue to stand up for equality in Jewish life. Let us hope that the rest of the Jewish world will soon be willing to daven alongside us as well.

Next week, we’ll talk about Israel.

Shabbat shalom!


~
Rabbi Seth Adelson
(Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck, Shabbat morning, July 20, 2013.)

This is the fourth installment in the seven-part Summer Sermon Series, in which we are discussing the essential Jewish values that we at Temple Israel highlight in our approach to Judaism. This is our vision of Jewish life; the first three installments are:

3. Engaging with Torah

Friday, July 12, 2013

Gravity and the Luminescent Age of Torah - Devarim 5773 (Summer Sermon Series #3)

When I was in AP Physics in high school, I recall my teacher, Mr. Blackmer, teaching us about gravity. Some of you might remember (if you dig deep enough into your memory) that Newton’s Law of Universal Gravitation is as follows:

             m1m2
F = G ────
               r2
where:
F is the measure of gravitational force between two objects
G is the gravitational constant
m1 and m2 are the masses of the two objects
r is the distance between them

Usually, when we think of gravity, it is in the context of our relationship with the Earth. The Earth is turning, and the reason we are not all flung off into space is because gravitational attraction keeps us tethered to the ground. But we attract the Earth as much as the Earth attracts us. Mr. Blackmer wanted to demonstrate that gravitational attraction affects both bodies, and that when we jump up (for example), the Earth pulls us back down just as we pull the Earth up to us. Yes, the distance that we are pulling the Earth is vanishingly small. But it’s there. So Mr. Blackmer suggested the following: whenever you’re feeling down, and powerless, jump! It’s a reminder that you can affect really big things.

And then, to demonstrate, he jumped up, and the Earth moved just a wee bit to meet him.


http://mail.colonial.net/~hkaiter/astronomyimagesB/gravity.gif

Gravity is, I think, a nice image to illustrate the relationship between Jews and Jewish learning. Torah (used in its widest sense) is a huge mass of information, and many Jews are attracted to it, some more than others. And by studying it, we affect the entire body of Jewish learning, even if only by a little, because when we learn, we insert ourselves into the text.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that the highest mitzvah of Jewish life is Talmud Torah, the learning of Torah in its widest sense, including all the texts of the rabbinic canon (Mishnah, Gemara, midrash, commentaries ancient and modern, and so forth). I spoke about the fact that more of us are studying Torah now than ever before, mostly due to access to new translations and new electronic tools for learning the greatest works of Jewish tradition. I can read Maimonides on my phone; I can search the Shulhan Arukh (R. Yosef Caro’s 16th century codification of Jewish law) on my desktop; you can study the Talmud on a tablet anywhere.

Judaism has entered the information age. In just a few years, the very idea of paper books will seem unwieldy and quaint. The implications for how we interact with Judaism are tremendous; we have always been “the People of the Book.” Somehow, “the People of the E-book” doesn’t quite work as well.

Shabbat issues aside, these new electronic Jewish resources are good for the Jews. We are living in a Luminescent Age of learning Torah, which bodes well for the future of Judaism. The availability of all of our holy texts at our fingertips means that more of us will seek (well, search) and more of us will find. And more of us will discover the value of learning Torah, of struggling with Jewish text.

We read this morning the beginning of the book of Devarim / Deuteronomy, the fifth and last book of the Torah. It opens with the phrase, “Elleh ha-devarim” “These are the words that Moshe addressed to all Israel on the other side of the Jordan.” (It is worth noting here that although devarim in modern Hebrew means “things,” it is classically understood as “words.”)

Elleh ha-devarim. It is the beginning of the end of the Torah. We are now forty years after yetzi’at Mitzrayim, the departure from Egypt, and on the East Bank of the Jordan River (funny how the “East Bank” never comes up in the news!), and Moshe is delivering a book-length speech to the Israelites prior to his death.

Rabbi Moshe ben Nahman, aka Ramban, aka Nachmanides, the prolific commentator of 13th-century Spain, in his introduction to Devarim, observes that “Elleh ha-devarim” implies all of the laws given in the book from the Ten Commandments forward. A few verses later in Devarim (1:5), we read the following:
בְּעֵבֶר הַיַּרְדֵּן, בְּאֶרֶץ מוֹאָב, הוֹאִיל מֹשֶׁה, בֵּאֵר אֶת-הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת...
On the other side of the Jordan, in the land of Moab, Moses undertook to expound this Teaching...
Rashi suggests that this verse means that prior to his death, Moshe translated the entire Torah into seventy languages, the seventy that are traditionally thought of in rabbinic text as the original languages created in the Tower of Babel episode.

Put together, these ideas suggests to me that these medieval commentators saw the book of Devarim as a symbol of the Torah writ large, an iconic representation of all Jewish learning - the laws, the stories, the translation and commentary, and everything that flows from it. Translation, by the way, is not only a form of commentary in itself; it was also thought of rabbinically as intrinsic to the learning of Torah. In the Talmud, Tractate Berakhot 8a, we are urged to read the entire Torah three times each year, twice in the Hebrew and once in translation or with commentary. The Talmud goes further to promise that those who do so will enjoy long life.

These devarim, these words - they are our heritage, our past, present and future.

Ladies and gentlemen, I suspect that, more than Shabbat, more than kashrut, more than the physical aspects of Jewish observance, it is our collected body of knowledge and our commitment to study that has kept us Jewish. The Babylonians, the Romans, the Islamic conquests, the Crusaders, the Inquisition, the Nazis - they could destroy our holy places. But they could not destroy what we carried in our heads and in our hearts. The gravitational attraction of our mass of Torah has kept us from flying off into oblivion, kept us on the ground.

But there is even more to the story. Rashi and Ramban and their fellow commentators are only a fraction of the journey that has brought these devarim, these words to us here today. For nearly two thousand years, since the beginnings of rabbinic literature, we have engaged as a people in the teaching, learning, interpreting, commenting, arguing over, creating and re-creating Torah. Every generation in every place where Jews have lived has, in some sense, shaped the Torah. We read the story of Creation differently here and now than our ancestors did in Jerusalem in the first century. We read the Exodus story differently today than the Spanish exiles of the 15th century. We understand Moshe’s rebuke of the people differently than Moses Maimonides did in Egypt of the 12th century, or Moses Mendelson did in 18th century Germany. And all of these may be effectively included in the mass of Torah that is all part of how we read it today - we are the next point in the Torah continuum, the next “dor” in “ledor vador,” from generation to generation.

The 20th-century German Jewish philosopher Martin Buber envisioned the revelation at Sinai, the moment when God gives Moshe the tablets of the Torah, as a kind of collision of humans with the Divine.  The Sinai experience left both God and humans fundamentally changed, like moving objects that crash into each other and exchange their momentum. The same is true for the words of our tradition. Every time we pull those books off of the Jewish bookshelf, every time we engage with our sacred texts, we are fundamentally changed, and so are the ancient words for all who come after us. And revelation continues even today, as Torah unfolds and God reveals more to us. We change, God changes, and the very nature of Judaism changes.

And that is one key to understanding who we are in the Conservative movement, and who we are at Temple Israel. We conserve tradition; we return to our traditional books year after year. But we also acknowledge that tradition has changed, that the Judaism of today is unique to this time and and to this place, but still connected to what came before.

I want to wrap this up by addressing something that happened in Israel this week, which will also serve as a connecting piece to the next two sermons in the series, on egalitarianism and Israel.

On Monday morning, Rosh Hodesh Av, the Women of the Wall and their supporters, about 350 people, showed up at the Kotel / Western Wall in Jerusalem for their monthly prayer service, the first such service since the Israeli Supreme Court ruled that it is legal (!) for anybody to pray at the Kotel “according to their custom.” In the case of Women of the Wall, that means praying out loud in a group, with some wearing tallitot and tefillin. We will speak more next week about why doing these things are acceptable under halakhah, Jewish law.

But it is not acceptable to the Haredi sector of Orthodoxy. To prevent the WoW from praying according to their custom, Haredi rabbis ordered girls’ seminaries to bus their students to the Kotel at 6:30 AM, half an hour before WoW meets, to fill up the Kotel plaza with people so that the WoW group could not get much further than the entry gates. Furthermore, a group of Haredim blew whistles, jeered and shouted at them, held aloft offensive signs, and a few threw bottles and eggs at those who were trying to daven. The police allowed the WoW to hold their service, and detained those that threw things. You can see video of this here.

It is true that many of us in the Jewish world read our sources and traditions differently, and it is a shame and embarrassment that some of us who hold the idea of Torah so dear choose to fight against an interpretation that conflicts with their own. Disagreement is a part of the continuum of Torah; on any given page of the Jewish bookshelf, one may find arguments that are leshem shamayim, for the sake of heaven. But mean-spirited, nearly-violent protests against other Jews who are trying to worship in a way that is condoned by 80% of the Jewish world?

This is why we at Temple Israel, in the Conservative world, must give in to the gravity of Torah. Let it pull you in. We must step up our efforts to engage with Torah, and not let the fundamentalists dictate how to read our holy books and how to interact with God.

Read it not as “Elleh ha-devarim,” these are the words, but rather, “Elleh devareinu,” these are OUR words. This is the living tradition that we have received from God, and that has been passed down to us via our ancestors. Every hand that has touched it has changed it just a little bit. And the next hand will always be yours.

The words of Torah include you. Find yourself in the text! It’s your heritage. We have, of course, many opportunities to learn here at Temple Israel, and if you want to dive into Torah but do not know where to start, come see me. Do not let the Luminescent Age of Torah pass you by!

Don’t fight against the gravity of Torah. Jump, and it will come up to meet you (but just a little bit).

Shabbat shalom!


~
Rabbi Seth Adelson
(Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck, Shabbat morning, July 13, 2013.) 


The first two installments in the Summer Sermon Series may be found here:



Friday, January 11, 2013

Let My People Pray - Va-era 5773

When Israel was in Egypt’s land / Let my people go

These are the words of the old spiritual, originally composed and sung by black slaves in America about their plight, their desire to be set free from bondage. Slaves who were brought here from Africa were stripped of their original tribal cultures and made to worship as their white Christian masters did, and they found strength and solace in the messages of the Bible. The thematic line of this spiritual, “Let my people go,” comes from Parashat Va-era, which we chanted this morning. God instructs Moses to go to Pharaoh and say:
ה' א-ֱלֹהֵי הָעִבְרִים שְׁלָחַנִי אֵלֶיךָ לֵאמֹר, שַׁלַּח אֶת-עַמִּי, וְיַעַבְדֻנִי בַּמִּדְבָּר
The Lord, God of the Hebrews, sent me to you to say, “Let My people go that they may worship Me in the wilderness.”

What the spiritual leaves out is the second part of that verse, about worshipping God in the desert. What is God’s justification for requesting freedom for the Israelites? It is not necessarily that they deserve freedom because slavery is wrong. Rather, they should be released so that they could receive the Torah and thereby worship God freely. The command given to Pharaoh from God is as much about religious freedom as it is about physical freedom. Moshe delivers this request to Pharaoh multiple times in this parashah and next week’s, as the plagues are unfurled on Egypt, and it is always couched in the language of spiritual purpose. As our Etz Hayim commentary points out (p. 359), “It was not only freedom from something, it was freedom for something.”

The Kotel in 1910, with men and women praying in close proximity, without a mehitzah. Many such images exist.
The religion that God bestows upon the Israelites in the latter parts of the book of Shemot / Exodus is, of course, that of the priestly sacrificial worship, practiced first in the desert using the portable tabernacle, the mishkan, and in later centuries in Jerusalem at the First and Second Temples. Fast forward more than a millennium, to the year 70 CE, when the Romans destroyed the Second Temple, and the Jews needed to find a way to reach God through a means other than sacrifice. And that route was prayer, which we continue to do today. Rather than animal sacrifice, we offer today avodah shebalev, the service of the heart, as Maimonides puts it.

Here at Temple Israel, as is the custom in virtually all Conservative synagogues, we pray in a style that reflects the openness of our society to full participation of men and women. This is, of course, a break with historical Jewish practice that only came about within the last half-century or so. We are egalitarian; we count women and men equally under halakhah / Jewish law. And this is as it should be, because the world has changed in the last 2,000 years.

In our society, women can be doctors, lawyers, CEOs, judges, politicians, or even the leader of the most powerful country on Earth. So why, when it comes to Jewish ritual, should they be confined to the “back of the bus”, that is, the other side of the mehitzah (the wall separating the sexes in Orthodox synagogues)? Why should women be prevented from leading the community in tefillah / prayer, reading from the Torah, becoming rabbis or mohalot (those who perform ritual circumcisions) or soferot (scribes that write holy documents like the Torah)? The very idea of keeping women from participating in all aspects of Jewish life is not just absurd, but deeply offensive.

Times have changed. We have changed. And mainstream Judaism has always accommodated change.

I was recently asked by a member of this community if I would work as a rabbi in an Orthodox synagogue. My answer was, as you may not be too surprised to hear, no. Not because I do not respect Orthodoxy and those who choose to pursue Judaism according to its principles - I do very much so, as an advocate of religious freedom and pluralism. Not because Orthodoxy is inauthentic - it is of course as authentic an expression of Judaism and at the same time in many respects just as modern as we are. And not because much of Orthodoxy does not accept me as a rabbi.  I could never be an Orthodox rabbi because this, the Conservative movement, is my spiritual home.

There are three principles of Conservative Judaism that are to me non-negotiable:

1. That we accept that Judaism has developed and changed historically, and what we today call Judaism was not handed to Moses on Mt. Sinai, but is a product of two millennia of natural growth. Judaism as we know it, including Orthodoxy (a modern concept in itself), has never been fixed.

2. That we accept modern understandings of God and the Torah, according to the tools of academic inquiry and contemporary philosophy, and allow them to stand alongside and interact with the traditional views;

3. (and this is the most important item) That we accept men and women as being equal before God - the principle of egalitarianism.

Today is not only Shabbat, the second-holiest day of the Jewish calendar, but also Rosh Hodesh Shevat, the first day of the eleventh month of the Jewish year. Rosh Hodesh is not really a holiday; it is a day that is slightly elevated above the rest of the month because it marks the renewal of the lunar cycle that was so important to our ancestors. Today is the day of the new moon.

Unlike other, more significant holidays, Rosh Hodesh has no special practices other than a few liturgical changes. There are no special foods, no particular ritual items like ram’s horns or palm fronds or a candelabrum. To my knowledge, there are no Rosh Hodesh songs or stories.

In his comments to the story of the Molten Calf (Parashat Ki Tissa), Rashi cites a midrash that the women are given Rosh Hodesh as a day of rest because the female Israelites refused to surrender their jewelry to Aaron to build the calf. So there is at least a midrashic basis for making Rosh Hodesh a special day for women.

As such, there are two things that have developed for Rosh Hodesh in the last two or three decades. One is the widespread establishment of women’s Rosh Hodesh groups, which can take a variety of forms because there is nothing in classical Jewish literature or practice that indicates how to do this. Rosh Hodesh groups often feature discussion, recitation of tehillim / psalms, some group activities, and of course food, and all for women. I have, in fact, never been invited to participate in a Rosh Hodesh group! (But hey, I’m not bitter.)

The second is the Women of the Wall. I have mentioned them here before - this is the Rosh Hodesh group writ large, consisting of Orthodox, Conservative, and Reform women, that has been meeting in Jerusalem at the Kotel, the Western Wall plaza, every Rosh Hodesh since 1988. They feature a shaharit / morning service conducted entirely by and for women. They did not meet today, because it is Shabbat, but will reconvene again for Rosh Hodesh Adar in a month.

Here is the troubling part: since 2002, when the Israeli Supreme Court allocated the Robinson’s Arch area of the Western Wall for non-Orthodox, egalitarian groups who wanted to conduct mixed-gender services at the Kotel, it has been illegal for any group to conduct a service on the women’s side of the mehitzah at the traditional Kotel, and illegal to conduct egalitarian services anywhere in the Kotel plaza. Furthermore, any woman wearing the traditionally male tefillah accessories, tallit or tefillin, can be arrested, and some of the Women of the Wall have indeed been taken to jail and subjected to harsh treatment.

The Kotel, the exterior western retaining wall of the Second Temple complex, rebuilt by King Herod in the 1st century BCE, has long been considered the holiest site in Judaism. Every tourist group goes there; I remember my first visit as an eager 17-year-old, when the tears welled up from deep within me as I extended a hand to touch the ancient Herodian stones.

The area that is traditionally thought of as “The Kotel” is actually a very small fraction of the total surface area of that western retaining wall; it became elevated because for many centuries, it was the only part of the wall that was accessible to visitors.

Today, the entire Kotel plaza is effectively an Orthodox synagogue. It has its own rabbi, Rabbi Shmuel Rabinovich, of Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) extraction, appointed by the Chief Rabbi of Israel. Recently, Rabbi Rabinovich wrote an opinion piece in Israel’s Yedi’ot Aharanot newpaper explaining how he is a moderate fighting off the intrusions of “extremists” like Women of the Wall, in which he said the following:

This is how fanaticism operates. It asks for protection in the name of tolerance, then thrives and flourishes until it becomes too late to stop the devastation it brings on us all.
I'll say it loud and clear: As long as I am the Western Wall's rabbi, fanaticism will not establish a foothold at the site. The Kotel's stones can teach us about the price of zealotry.

Women who want to hold a prayer service, who want to participate in the mitzvot of Jewish life, and men and women who want to pray together near the traditional Kotel are “fanatics” who will bring “devastation” on all of us. Thus saith Rabbi Rabinovich.

The worst possible kind of fanatacism is that which has the gall to declare itself mainstream. Non-Orthodox Jews represent more than 80% of American Jewry. What we do is not extreme. We are the mainstream.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Kotel is not a synagogue. It is a very old wall. And it belongs to all of us: Haredi, Modern Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, secular, humanist, Zionist, non-Zionist, etc.

Some of you might be thinking right now, “Why does this matter? Why should I care if the Kotel functions like a Haredi synagogue?”

Let me tell you why this matters. We live in an age in which our children’s commitment to Israel, something which the American Jewish community has long taken for granted, is undeniably on the wane. So when they go to Israel with their synagogue or youth group or Birthright or whatever, and they see that the State of Israel, aided and abetted by the intolerance of the Israeli Rabbinate, dismisses the mode of Judaism in which they were raised, this only creates doubt about their connection to the Jewish State. For most of us, ladies and gentlemen, our connection to Judaism is deeply associated with what we do in synagogue. Rejection of our mainstream practices by the increasingly right-wing religious authorities, in league with the Israeli government - THAT is what will bring devastation on us all.

Let My people go, that they might worship Me. Indeed.

There is here a slight glimmer of hope: Natan Sharansky, the former Russian refusenik who is now the head of the Jewish Agency, has been assigned by PM Netanyahu to study the matter and come up with a plan. I am cautionsly optimistic, but let’s see how this plays out.

Meanwhile, let us hope and pray that we are soon set free to worship as we please, as our ancestors once were.

Shabbat shalom.


~
Rabbi Seth Adelson

(Originally delivered at Temple Israel of Great Neck, Shabbat morning, January 12, 2013.)