My Summer in Israel’s Matzav

This article was published in the September/October 2014 issue 

of the Tikvat Israel bulletin along with another congregant's 

reflections as part of a feature called: Our Summer Experiences in Israel …

Despite this summer’s situation in Israel, for the most part, I had quite a good summer. However, usually each time I leave Israel I ache with a longing to stay. This time was different in that although I was ready to come home, I still ached. 

I ached with grief over the “matzav” – the situation  – in Israel. I ached for all the inhabitants of the land, Jew and Palestinian alike, for being caught in the impossible grip of injury, death and destruction.

I also ached from a sense of guilt for exercising my privilege of leaving a country at war and going home to safety. I felt guilt over no longer being able to show in person that I wanted to help in whatever way I could, though in truth I really didn’t know how to help except by providing the emotional support to those who ask or need and the economic support of being a tourist.

I spent the majority of my summer in Jerusalem where it was almost possible to forget at times there was a war going on … almost. Although we didn’t experience any of the day-to-day fighting, there was a sense of tension, heaviness and hyperawareness that seemed to be communally experienced. There were also pro-and anti-war rallies and riots popping up daily. I only experienced a few red alert sirens in Jerusalem and two others over a Shabbat in Tel Aviv. One quickly learned where the nearest miklat, or bomb shelter, was located relative to one’s apartment and on neighborhood streets.

Most days I spent teaching and learning at the Conservative Yeshiva. Located in the center of Jerusalem, it’s a wonderful place to study traditional text in an egalitarian setting with people from all over the world. I taught a learner’s minyan for those students (of all ages) who were uncomfortable or unfamiliar with the traditional daily shacharit service or with prayer in general. My goal, as I taught about keva (obligatory prayer) and kavanna (intentional or spontaneous prayer), was to facilitate each person’s development of their own personal prayer practice and relationship with tradition. 

While I rarely discussed the matzav in my class, I hoped that by developing an intentional prayer practice or at least a better understanding of traditional prayer, each person would be acquiring “practical spiritual skills” with which to deal with the ever-present stress.

I actually thought I was dealing with the stress fairly well. I’d lived in Israel for a year during the first war with Lebanon and had spent extended periods there during other stressful times. But, of course, the emotional and psychological toll of the matzav got to me as it did to anyone else.  Strangely enough, it wasn’t the rocket attacks that unnerved me. Rather, it took a phone conversation with my daughter to do that.

My daughter decided to spend Shabbat in Tel Aviv the first week after the war began. I wasn’t thrilled, as Tel Aviv was rapidly becoming a favorite Hamas target, but what was I to do? As we spoke during our Shabbat Shalom conversation on Friday, I found myself reviewing the procedures of what to do if she got caught away from a miklat/bomb shelter during a rocket attack – out of doors or in a car. It turns out she knew what to do and I just had to be satisfied with that. At the end of our conversation, I blessed her for Shabbat, told her that I loved her and hung up.

Shortly thereafter I found myself trembling. I had just reviewed rocket attack safety procedures with my child. I’m an American. I never expected to have to do that. But I’m also a Jew. A Jew who spends a lot of time in Israel. So why was I so surprised and unnerved? Nevertheless, I was. And to some degree, I still am after returning to Rockville.

I received many e-mails over the summer asking if I was going to come home early or if the sender, who was thinking of coming to Israel, should actually come. I never did consider coming home early and while I wanted to say to everyone, “Yes, of course, come!” I couldn’t (and didn’t) do that. One person’s sense of safety and belonging isn’t the same as the next person’s. Each must make their own choices and those choices will be the right ones for them.

There is so much we can learn by integrating our tradition with the multi-cultural complex world we live in. When Jennie and I were chevruta partners at the yeshiva in a course that traced the civilizational development of the phrase “V’Ahavta L’reacha Ka’mocha,” (love your neighbor as yourself), we applied that knowledge to current-day relationships.

Finally, it was borne out when I spoke to people -- Jews, Christians, Muslims and tourists -- about country, family, heritage and the pain and sense of helplessness that this situation was bringing to all of them.  May peace come soon and in our time.

Note: Since this article was written, a permanent cease fire has gone into effect. Let us pray that it holds. AMB

Me in front of Robinson’s Arch, the

egalitarian section of the Western Wall 

in Jerusalem. Had just finished davenning 

Shacharit (morning prayer) with the Conservative Yeshiva.

Alex and Eema

Haven't posted in a while. Am planning on starting a new blog now that I'm no longer a rabbinical student. But wanted to share this article that appeared in the Spring 2013 issue of Today's Israel! 
http://www.uscj.org/todaysisrael.

Alex and Eema

         I was last in Israel a year ago and can’t wait to get back. One way to satisfy this yearning is my weekly Friday Shabbat Shalom conversation with my son.  Even more special than just hearing about Israel is hearing about his studies at the Conservative Yeshiva (CY) a place that I love.  For example, recently we talked about my preparation for an upcoming wedding and he offered to lend me his Talmud class notes on Masechet Kiddushin. How cool is that?
         This was fairly typical of Alex’s and my weekly conversations. Alex, 19, is currently spending his gap year on the Nativ College Leadership Program on the CY Track. The CY is one of my favorite places to learn. My first experience at the CY was in 2009 during a summer and fall semester as part of my rabbinical school training. I fell in love with the CY as a place where I could study ancient text, with both traditional and modern perspectives, with people of all ages.     
         Although Alex and I did not study at the CY at the same time we did get to have a Mother and Son learning experience. We would share his learning during our Shabbat calls so that it became our learning. He shared shiurim that I remember learning – I found my notes and we were able to compare! He would tell me things he learned in that week’s Community Discussions that he either had questions about or was excited to share or that he thought would be appropriate for use in one of my Sunday schools.
         Alex took one of my favorite classes, Liturgy, with R’Daniel Goldfarb. We often discussed what went on in class, reviewing the various aspects of different prayer, comparing traditional to liberal perspectives. These conversations helped me prepare my monthly service at my shul. A highlight was when Alex came home over winter break and taught a class on Israel at one of my schools. He used skills and knowledge learned at the CY and on Nativ to prepare for and teach the class. He could never have done that before this experience. It was fantastic! Through all this we’ve had discussions on philosophy and theology as Alex continues to develop his adult Jewish identity.
         As Jewish parents we are commanded to teach our children. We want to share our passions and interests with our children. As a rabbi I want to teach my children that which I love – Judaism. I am always trying to find ways to share this with my both my son Alex and his sister Jennie, who is studying to be a Jewish educator. To have Alex study at CY is a dream come true for his Eema. To have him love his time at the CY and want to return is a blessing. For Alex to want to share so much of it with his Eema is a gift that I will treasure for the rest of my life.

       
Rabbah Arlene Berger
Education Director of the Chavurah at Sixth and I Historic Synagogue,
Washington, DC

Alex Berger,
NATIV 32
UMD, Class of 2017

Israel Education - Seamless Integration into our curriculum

It's been a while since I've posted. Here is something that I wrote on "The Seamless Integration of Israel into Supplementary School Curriculum," some time ago, back when I was still an Education Director as well as a Student Rabbah. Given all the craziness in Israel and the tenuousness of the relationship between it and today's young, I thought I'd post this. 

For far too many years, Israel has been taught in supplementary schools as the Land of Milk and Honey. It is discussed as a land of abundance, a safe haven for the Jewish people in times of persecution, the land of our forefathers (and foremothers), the land of our people’s inheritance as it states in the Torah. This view of Israel no longer works for the youth of the twenty-first century. They are growing up in a time when Israel has always existed – they have never yearned for Zion of old because modern Israel, today’s Zion, is an actuality. They do not remember what it was like to be Jewish before the existence of the State of Israel. The persecutions experienced by the first generation Jewish immigrants to the United States are not real and urgent, they are the stories of their great-grandparents.

Today’s youth have a different relationship to God and religion than those of the past as well. It is “cool” to question or be scornful of organized religion, the existence of God and one’s relationship to God. For some, religion is still an integral part of their daily lives; for others, religion barely exists in the periphery. The concept of spirituality has taken the forefront – but spirituality can be found without a connection to Judaism, even without a connection to God. Witness Buddhism, a religion and philosophy that is a cornerstone to spiritual practice but as a non-theistic religion does not have a God figure attached to it. Another popular spiritual venue is the study of Kabbalah, particularly in Hollywood. The spirituality being found in this popular Kabbalah is also not God-centered. The Kabbalah Centre International gives a definition of Kabbalah on its webpage that touts the attainment of spiritual wisdom without mentioning Judaism or God.

So where does Israel come in? How do we keep our children connected to Judaism and to Israel in a world that offers so many options? One solution is to take a close look at the curricula in supplementary schools and see how Israel is being taught. What message is the school giving and how is it making Israel relevant to the everyday lives of its students?

I believe that the way that Israel has been taught in the past no longer works. Designing a curriculum that has an Israel focus in one grade (usually fifth) as well as programs for Yom Ha’atzmaut and references during teaching the holidays is not sufficient. This tactic gives the message that “Israel” is a stand alone topic that is not really related to anything else that the students are learning. It is either an afterthought or a subject that the school doesn’t really know what to do with.

The following set of questions can be found in the document “Changes-Israel Then and Now"”: A CurricularGuideline to Accompany the Exhibition Changes” edited by Kiewe, Moskovitz-Kalman, and West.

“‘Israel’ as a learning subject must be revised. A few questions should be asked when approaching to create a learning framework for ‘Israel’:

·         What do we want to teach? “Israel” the concept? ‘Israel’ the holy land?; ‘Israel’ the land of refuge for all Jews?; ‘Israel’ the melting pot?; ‘Israel’ the modern state?, ‘Israel’ as an initial sign coming of the moshiach? (For additional insights, see Dr. Barry Chazan’s article: “What We Know About the Teaching of Israel.”)

·       How do we fill the gap between the land of Israel as perceived by someone whose primary source is the Bible, and reality in the year 2002 as shaped by the modern State of Israel?

·       How can we ensure that the subject of Israel will be periodically upgraded and integrated? What will the process of revising our curriculum include?

·       How can we equip educators, especially those who have not been to Israel, with the sufficient tools to create a change?

·         How can we present difficult issues that exist in the reality of a Jewish State/democracy with non-Jewish minorities in a fair and accurate way – without undermining a sense of loyalty or affinity to the State?”

The idea of seamless integration of Israel into curriculum does not seem very difficult on the surface. Instead of teaching Israel only as a discrete subject, it should be interwoven throughout the curriculum. When holidays are taught, link them to Israel; when discussing Tikun Olam, discuss Israel and ecology; when looking at text, find the link to modern as well as ancient Israel; and when reviewing life cycle events, discuss how they are celebrated by Israelis in addition to Americans. This seems easy enough. So what makes integration of Israel so difficult? And why did it take weeks of research until I could find even a few documents or templates for Israel integration? One answer is that this is still a fairly new endeavor so the examples are few and far between. The programs that do exist are still in the proposal stage or are just finishing their first iterations. According to Gerber and Mazor (2003) “The underlying issue it seems is not an absence of Israel Education but a lack of systematic national planning and thought. With only a few exceptions, comprehensive, multi-disciplinary, developmentally and sequentially appropriate approaches to Israel Education are lacking.”

Any type of change that is systemic, as full integration of Israel into the curriculum of a supplementary school would be, requires buy-in from several different categories of stake holders. In this case they would be Hebrew school committees, teachers, parents and possibly synagogue boards.

To fully integrate Israel into curriculum, several steps must be taken.

1.     The community (school, synagogue or both) must define what it means by the term Israel. Does it mean the modern state (and which aspects of it: religious or secular?), the historical state, or the religious Zion.

2.     The definition must be articulated and transformed into an educational goal. Curricula must be found or developed to support this new goal.

3.     Teachers must be trained to teach all aspects of Israel – with training programs, visits to Israel, etc.

4.     Finally, where do the Palestinians and the Arab-Israeli conflict fit in? How will they be presented? Who will train the teachers to present this information in an objective manner and is it possible? At what age should this be presented?