<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?>
			<!--  RSS generated by The Jewish Week Blogs - A Rabbi&apos;s World on Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:13:14 CST -->
			<rss version="2.0">
			<channel>
				<title>The Jewish Week Blogs - A Rabbi&apos;s World</title>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com</link>
				<description>Click a category below to go to a specific Jewish Week blog</description>
				<language>en-us</language>
				<copyright>Copyright 2008 The Jewish Week Blogs - A Rabbi&apos;s World</copyright>
				<docs>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/</docs>
				<lastBuildDate>Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:13:14 CST</lastBuildDate>
		
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World has moved!</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World has moved! Check out the new, improved blog site here - and remember to&amp;nbsp;update your bookmarks.</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/A_Rabbis_World_has_moved.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/A_Rabbis_World_has_moved.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Wed, 17 Sep 2008 11:09:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>It Took a While...Paul McCartney in Israel</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World: It Took a While, But&amp;hellip;

&amp;nbsp;


It&apos;s not a slow news time, to be sure, but after a conversation with my sister a few days ago, I know what the really big news story is in Israel.&amp;nbsp; It&apos;s not about Ehud Olmert, Tzippi Livni, or any other political or religious figure; it&apos;s about Paul McCartney.&amp;nbsp; Yes, Paul McCartney, whose forthcoming concert in Park HaYarkon on September 25 promises to be the biggest such event in Israel&apos;s history.&amp;nbsp; 

As has been reported recently, the Beatles were supposed to visit Israel in the early sixties, but Yossi Sarid&apos;s father (how ironic is that!), who was then the Minister of Culture, vetoed the concert because the Beatles were considered to be a &amp;quot;bad influence&amp;quot; on the country&apos;s youth.&amp;nbsp; It&apos;s straight out of &amp;quot;Footloose.&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; Something of the anti-rock and roll sentiment from the Elvis years seemed to have rooted in Israel&apos;s socialist leadership back then, and they actually vetoed the concert.&amp;nbsp; When you think about Israeli artists today like Aviv Geffen, it&apos;s hard to believe exactly how puritanical the country was back then.&amp;nbsp; What a blown opportunity!

But in the spirit of &amp;quot;it&apos;s never too late&amp;quot; (although it obviously is, with two members of the band already dead), Paul is helping Israel redeem itself with a concert that has the country in a tizzy.&amp;nbsp; My sister, whom I remember well having posters of the Fab Four on her bedroom wall when we were kids, informed me that she spent five hundred shekel for a standing room ticket!&amp;nbsp; Five hundred shekel!&amp;nbsp; For standing room!&amp;nbsp; And there are expected to be countless thousands of people there, willing to pay that much and obviously much more.

Truth be told, were I there, I would pay it in a heartbeat.&amp;nbsp; With all the issues facing Israel, one more existentially threatening than the other, with all the sorrows and all the disappointments, people like my sister will get to be teenagers again for a few spectacular hours.&amp;nbsp; Already last Friday afternoon, one of the Israeli radio stations was playing a possible set list for the concert, fueling the frenzy.

September 11, Iran, political corruption, deep and painful worries about the future&amp;hellip; Hearing &amp;quot;She Loves You&amp;quot; can only be what the doctor ordered.



</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/McCartney_in_Israel.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/McCartney_in_Israel.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 12 Sep 2008 08:18:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: What Will We Talk About?  McCain, Palin, Obama and Biden</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World:&amp;nbsp; What Will We Talk About? 


&amp;nbsp;
Let&apos;s see&amp;hellip; the Olympics are over.&amp;nbsp; The political conventions are over.&amp;nbsp; Other than what sounds like endless hurricanes making their way towards the east coast, we&apos;ve run out of the big topics!

Well, not quite.&amp;nbsp; The conventions may be over, but now comes two solid months of unending bombardment with commercials, debates, op-eds, blogs (can&apos;t complain too much there, I guess), and what Seinfeld would undoubtedly refer to as just so much yadda.&amp;nbsp; It&apos;s time to hunker down.

Somewhere beneath all the mountains of excess verbiage that we are about to experience, there are some serious issues to be discussed.&amp;nbsp; For all the excesses of both conventions, all the hyperbole and all the demonization of the other that makes up political discourse in this country, I still have the vaguely positive feeling that two thoughtful people are running for president, two people capable of reflection and possessed of admirable qualities.&amp;nbsp; This is not a time for a president of the United States to govern from the gut- something that President Bush raised to a not-so-fine art.&amp;nbsp; From&amp;nbsp; a country of some three hundred million people considered to be among the most powerful in the world, we have a right to expect that our president be someone endowed with intellectual curiosity and broadness of vision, and an appreciation of subtle areas of gray as much as of absolutes.&amp;nbsp; I think- I hope- that both Senators Obama and McCain fit that qualification.

But both conventions left me with questions- serious questions- that I hope the next two months will help me answer.&amp;nbsp; I&apos;d like to know what in the world qualifies Sarah Palin to be a heartbeat away from the presidency other than her obvious folksy appeal to the &amp;quot;average American&amp;quot; and her ability to deliver a well-written speech (well-written by someone else).&amp;nbsp; 

Aside from her policy positions, many of which I find deeply disturbing, I&apos;m still stuck on the fact that she didn&apos;t have a passport until two years ago!&amp;nbsp; Am I missing something here??&amp;nbsp; She didn&apos;t have a passport??&amp;nbsp; She hadn&apos;t been abroad?&amp;nbsp; 

And am I really supposed to be impressed by the fact that she hunts moose?&amp;nbsp; Not much moose hunting involved in the executive branch of government.

Just to be fair, I&apos;m not so convinced that Senator Obama has the kind of experience that justifies his meteoric rise, either.&amp;nbsp; He wrote his own speech, and there are few better speakers out there.&amp;nbsp; He&apos;s obviously a cerebral man, and an impressive one.&amp;nbsp; But in terms of pure experience and expertise, Joe Biden&apos;s credentials are far more impressive than his.&amp;nbsp; And what exactly is &amp;quot;change that we can believe in?&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; 

And while we&apos;re on the change issue, how can John McCain warn the powers that be in Washington that &amp;quot;change is coming&amp;quot; when his own party has run the government for the last eight years?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; If a Republican candidate adopts the mantra of change, isn&apos;t that a virtual admission that the last eight years were deeply troubling- in itself a justification for a democratic victory?&amp;nbsp; 

Fasten your seatbelts&amp;hellip; it&apos;s going to be a bumpy ride.


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Skolnik_on_conventions.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Skolnik_on_conventions.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 05 Sep 2008 11:26:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: Endings and Beginnings…</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World: Endings and Beginnings&amp;hellip;



The imminent arrival of the Hebrew month of Elul is invariably a wake-up call to all of us.&amp;nbsp; Aside from the obvious- that Rosh Hashanah is four weeks away- there are also, of course, subliminal messages that come with a time of penitence and sober introspection. 

We are in a time of endings, and of beginnings.

One would think that there would be a kind of numbing sameness to this exercise.&amp;nbsp; After all, it comes around every year, and we know the drill.&amp;nbsp; The air begins to get just a little bit cooler, older children are leaving for college, younger ones stocking up on school supplies, and there is no way to avoid that fact that, as school gears up and seasons change, summer is coming to an end.&amp;nbsp; For most people, that realization involves more than a twinge of sadness.

But though we know that feeling all too well, its sadness is invariably mitigated by the welcome possibilities of new beginnings.&amp;nbsp; Both in a religious sense and in a practical one, it&apos;s hard not to feel that we have what we used to call in our childhood a &amp;quot;do-over.&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; No matter what was less than wonderful in the preceding year, no matter how disappointed we may be in ourselves or in others, a new year soon to begin offers the chance to do it better this time around.&amp;nbsp; That&apos;s the feeling that guards against any sense of numbing sameness.&amp;nbsp; Beginnings may, as the Midrash teaches, be difficult.&amp;nbsp; But they are also, in a sense, like newborn children- perfect and unspoiled, and rife with unknowable potential.

It&apos;s been an interesting exercise having the Democratic Party convention juxtaposed with Elul so visible just over the horizon.&amp;nbsp; Truth to tell, whether Democrat or Republican, party conventions are all about new beginnings- or at least the desire to convince everyone that what is to follow will be new and different.&amp;nbsp; There are few venues in which the word &amp;quot;change&amp;quot; (so crucial in a spiritual sense at this time of year) gets used quite as often as at a political convention.&amp;nbsp; 

Especially in a year like this one, when no matter which party wins we will have new president, we are asked to believe in the possibility that things can be better than they have been.

Talk about numbing sameness&amp;hellip; how can one not be cynical about political promises of better times to come.&amp;nbsp; And yet, the spiritual dimension within us virtually demands that we remain open to new possibilities, in others and in ourselves.

I&apos;m trying.


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/endings_and_beginnings.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/endings_and_beginnings.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2008 21:41:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: Olympic Musings…</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World:&amp;nbsp; Olympic Musings&amp;hellip;
&amp;nbsp;


As the summer Olympics in Beijing draw to a close, it seems like a good time to reflect on the goings-on of past few weeks.&amp;nbsp; The big news (other than the Herculean feats of Michael Phelps and others), as reported by the people who determine what makes the news, seems to be that people actually watched, and in record numbers. 

Being on vacation afforded my wife and me the chance to watch more than we would have otherwise, and I am obliged to admit that much of it was compelling.&amp;nbsp; The gymnastics competition, male and female, showcased athletes performing at the peak of their abilities, and one could only gape in amazement at what they were able to do (no matter how old or young they are).&amp;nbsp; In swimming and track and field, previous world records seemed significant only as markers for what used to be the &amp;quot;gold standard&amp;quot; in any particular event.&amp;nbsp; Records were rewritten just about every day, sometimes by significant amounts.&amp;nbsp; To use an overused word, it was awesome.

Two random observations on the games, one amusing, one definitely not so.

To begin with the innocuous, I take you back to the women&apos;s floor exercises in the gymnastics competition.&amp;nbsp; To this layperson&apos;s eye, the floor exercise looks like a series of dance postures and moves punctuated by tumbling sequences that send the competitors flying through the air, expected to land without a twitch.&amp;nbsp; And it&apos;s all set to music, which in some way is supposed to relate to the moves on the floor.

I wonder if some of you caught this moment.&amp;nbsp; One of the competitors from the former Soviet Union- I think it was a Russian woman- performed her floor exercise to a techno-version of the theme from Exodus.&amp;nbsp; Actually, I think more than one woman used the Exodus music.&amp;nbsp; The irony was too delicious for words.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I&apos;ve heard that Paul Newman is quite ill these days; I hope he was watching.&amp;nbsp; Ari Ben-Canaan would have enjoyed knowing that gymnasts from the homeland of &amp;quot;Let my people go!&amp;quot; were finding inspiration from music whose Zionist lyrics proclaimed, &amp;quot;Until I die, this land is mine!&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; 

From the innocuous to the surreal:

I think I remember reading before the Olympics that the Chinese government was prepared to issue permits to those who wished to protest during the games.&amp;nbsp; Did you see any protests?&amp;nbsp; I didn&apos;t.&amp;nbsp; On the front page of today&apos;s New York Times (8/21) there&apos;s an article about an elderly Chinese couple being sent for &amp;quot;re-education&amp;quot; for having asked for a permit.&amp;nbsp; 

The Chinese succeeded in sanitizing these games, and NBC played along.&amp;nbsp; 

There were features on Beijing nightlife, where to eat, where to buy the best silk, and on and on.&amp;nbsp; But I don&apos;t recall seeing anything more than the most cursory mention of the Tiananmen Square massacre, or the repressive nature of the Chinese government (for all of its capitalist tendencies).&amp;nbsp; 

People commented on how, contrary to pre-Olympics concerns, the air quality in Beijing was the best it had been in ten years.&amp;nbsp; Amazing.&amp;nbsp; That&apos;s what happens when you shut down all your factories within a suitable distance from the city.&amp;nbsp; They hid the pollution, they hid the poor people who live in Beijing and eke out a living hawking merchandise from their little wagons, they hid the protestors&amp;hellip;. And the result, of course, is that Beijing seemed like a summer wonderland.

I&apos;m told they hid the anti-Semitic propaganda in Berlin in 1936, too- not to mention the Jews.

China is not Nazi Germany, but it&apos;s certainly not Disneyland either.&amp;nbsp; Amidst our celebration of our athletes and their noble competitors, we owe the victims of Tiananmen Square to at least remember them.


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Olympic_Musings.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Olympic_Musings.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 22 Aug 2008 08:40:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World:  When in Newport...</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World:&amp;nbsp; When in Newport&amp;hellip; 


&amp;nbsp;
With all of our kids in camp or working elsewhere for a good part of the summer, my wife and I stole away for a precious few days alone, and, like God said about Tuesday a long time ago, it was very good.&amp;nbsp; Though our (four) children are increasingly independent and only our youngest will actually be living at home this year, your children are always your children, and coupled with the pressures of our jobs, it was wonderfully rejuvenating to be away with each other and no one else.

One of the places we visited was Newport, Rhode Island- a place we had long wanted to visit but simply had never gotten to.&amp;nbsp; Large portions of the coastline of Newport are not commercially developed.&amp;nbsp; I spent many of my childhood summers on the over-developed Jersey shore, and though I loved it, this was something else entirely, and much more special.&amp;nbsp; It was so refreshing to be able to simply bike along the coastline and stop where one wanted to read, listen to music, or just contemplate the natural beauty.&amp;nbsp; Newport is magnificent.

But being in Newport, of course, also provided us with the opportunity to spend Shabbat morning at the Touro Synagogue, one of America&apos;s oldest, dating back to colonial times.&amp;nbsp; It was to the leadership of Touro that George Washington wrote his famous letter declaring that America would, to bigotry, give no sanction.&amp;nbsp; If only for that reason, it seemed to be almost an imperative to daven there.&amp;nbsp; Our weekend coincided with the imminent onset of Tisha B&apos;Av, so there was not a huge crowd, but that in no way colored the experience of being there, at least for me.

Earlier in my time off, I had indulged in watching the entire HBO mini-series on John Adams, and I loved every minute of it.&amp;nbsp; Rarely do we allow ourselves to consider what remarkable people the founding fathers of this country were, and what enormous courage (some would and did call it other) they displayed in staging a revolution for independence from all-powerful England.&amp;nbsp; Those were truly difficult and perilous times, and they discovered in themselves enormous reservoirs of wisdom and perseverance.&amp;nbsp; 

Sitting in the Touro Synagogue, one could close one&apos;s eyes and imagine being back in the late 1700&apos;s, wondering as a Jew whether the promise of America and its freedoms would extend to the fledgling Jewish community as well.&amp;nbsp; The building looks and feels almost exactly as it did then, and it doesn&apos;t really require all that much imagination to think those thoughts, even all these years later.&amp;nbsp; Washington&apos;s iconic reassurances to the Jewish community of colonial Newport still resonate with us today.&amp;nbsp; The manifestations of hatred and bigotry ore more often than not more subtle than they were then, but the fact that America has provided such a welcoming home to us should never be forgotten.

It was so good to be away!


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Rabbi_in_Newport.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Rabbi_in_Newport.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 15 Aug 2008 11:02:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: Hekhsher Tzedek, Early Childhood Education and a Few Other Things</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World: Hekhsher Tzedek, Early Childhood Education and a Few Other Things




About two weeks ago, shortly after I posted a blog on the importance of Jewish Early Childhood Education (well received by most of the Jewish early childhood educators whom I know), someone posted a comment on the blog- anonymously.&amp;nbsp; 


The comment actually conflated a few issues that I had written about over the past weeks, including my strong support for Hekhsher Tzedek, the Conservative Movement&amp;rsquo;s ethical/ritual kashrut initiative that has gained wide attention post-Postville.&amp;nbsp; It connected the chronically low salaries (and benefits) for Jewish educators in private institutions like synagogues and day schools with the movement&amp;rsquo;s current focus on ethical treatment of workers as it relates to the production of kosher foods.&amp;nbsp; It also criticized the disparity between salaries paid to teachers, and those to clergy.


For the purposes of this blog I will leave that last comment aside, because I don&amp;rsquo;t think it&amp;rsquo;s germane to the more compelling point at hand.&amp;nbsp; But I would like to comment on the connection between Hekhsher Tzedek&amp;rsquo;s focus on ethical treatment of workers, and our own employees with the Jewish community.


From a macro perspective, one could and should bring the concerns of Hekhsher Tzedek to bear on an eclectic variety of business concerns.&amp;nbsp; It is certainly true that Nike&amp;rsquo;s exploitation of child labor in foreign sweatshops comes to mind, along with numerous other egregious examples of corporate greed and corner cutting.&amp;nbsp; And it is certainly true that we need to be looking in our own communal mirrors even as we focus a critical gaze outwards.


I think, though, that what tripped the sensitivity wires in Postville was that the responsible organization was owned and run by religious Jews who clearly resented the implication of a connection between the laws of kashrut themselves and so-called &amp;ldquo;politically correct sensitivities&amp;rdquo; about treatment of workers.&amp;nbsp; Also, the laws of kashrut themselves are designed to be a vehicle to bring holiness even to eating, which when all is said and done is one of the more primal drives that we are endowed with as human beings.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The abuse of illegal immigrants for the sake of producing kosher meat at the lowest possible prices is such an offensive concept to so many of us- regardless of movement label- who take kashrut seriously, and try to encourage others to do so as well.&amp;nbsp; There is no over-estimating the Hilul Hashem involved in what happened in Postville.&amp;nbsp; It was bad for the cause of kashrut and bad for Judaism, and demanded a strong communal response- not a blind defense.


At its worst, the chronically low wages paid in too many Jewish educational institutions does not rise to the level of what happened in Postville, unhappy though the situation is.&amp;nbsp; Teachers do have vacations, they are offered the opportunity to buy into existing health care options&amp;hellip; Yes, they work hard, for not enough money.&amp;nbsp; But they are not &amp;ldquo;abused.&amp;rdquo;


That having been said, there is one other aspect of this whole issue that is relevant both to the situation in Postville and, all too often, to Jewish institutions as well.&amp;nbsp; From where I sit, the constant and unrelenting pressure to pay the very least amount possible for Hebrew School and Day School tuitions, and, for that matter, synagogue dues, also contributes to the problem.


I am hardly unaware that we are living in difficult and painful economic times, and no one wants to pay more than he/she has to for anything.&amp;nbsp; But when parents threaten to pull their children out of schools if they raise their tuitions, even modestly, and when they essentially force a school to charge far less in tuition than what it costs the school to run well, they are essentially complicit in the underpayment of staff and teachers.&amp;nbsp; Of course it would be better for a school to provide health care for all of its faculty, but even factoring in fund-raising (an area in which the Jewish community is a little over-active), there is simply not enough money to always do what one would want to do- not for malice of lack of caring, but simply for economic stability.&amp;nbsp; My children have attended certain day schools that charged much, much more than our local day school did.&amp;nbsp; But I could hardly fault the school for wanting to pay its faculty a living wage, or have a real art and music program instead of a token of one.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Higher tuitions bring better conditions for faculty and students.&amp;nbsp; We need to understand our role in this, and not to reflexively always act as if a tuition increase is an act of war.


And in synagogues, it seems that every member wants dynamic and charismatic clergy who will attract new members and satisfy the eclectic needs of older ones.&amp;nbsp; But they, too, are supporting families, and dues play such a large part in the budget of most synagogues.&amp;nbsp; You can&amp;rsquo;t pa the best clergy and teachers on the lowest dues.&amp;nbsp; You just can&amp;rsquo;t.


Similarly. I also feel that if the cost of having kosher meat that is not produced on the backs of illegal immigrants is paying more, well, then, we should pay more.&amp;nbsp; End of discussion.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;rsquo;m not talking about the kind of price gouging that one too often sees around Passover, but rather a realistic price that reflects our obligation to workers, as well as consumers.&amp;nbsp; That&amp;rsquo;s what Hekhsher Tzedek is about.&amp;nbsp; Not &amp;ldquo;muscling in&amp;rdquo; on the kashrut industry, as some have ridiculously suggested, but simply remembering that achieving the goal of easy availability of kosher meat at the expense of fundamental human decency is hardly what kashrut is about, in my humble opinion&amp;hellip;
</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Hekhsher_Tzedek_and_Early_Childhood_Education.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Hekhsher_Tzedek_and_Early_Childhood_Education.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Mon, 04 Aug 2008 12:39:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: A Little Reality Check</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World: A Little Reality Check
&amp;nbsp;



There are few more banal ways to open any kind of blog, article or sermon about Israel than to say &amp;quot;These past few days have been extraordinarily difficult ones for Israel.&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; But- that having been said- these past few days have indeed been extraordinarily difficult ones for Israel.


The painful reality of the death of both Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser, coupled with the necessary release of a horrific terrorist and child-killer, Samir Kuntar, has unleashed a torrent of emotion both here and in Israel.&amp;nbsp; Grief, mixed with anger and frustration, is so real and immediate as to be a palpable, immanent presence.&amp;nbsp; From where I sit, the celebration that greeted Kuntar&apos;s return to Lebanon only served to highlight the sharp distinction that is to be drawn between a culture that glorifies violence and death, and one that will go to remarkable lengths to pursue peace.&amp;nbsp; I am only grateful to be a part of the latter; Baruch She&apos;asani Yisrael! 


Where I live in Queens, the weekend editions of all the major newspapers in Israel are available for purchase on Friday, and they constitute my Friday night required reading.&amp;nbsp; Ma&apos;ariv, Ha&apos;Aretz, and pretty much anything I can get my hands on enable me to get a real-time sense of what Israel and Israelis are feeling and thinking.&amp;nbsp; 


Needless to say, there&apos;s been a lot of soul-searching in those papers about Israel&apos;s willingness to release such a notorious terrorist, even for the sake of redeeming the bodies of two soldiers.&amp;nbsp; Many have pointed with pride to the IDF doctrine of lo mafkirim bashetach- the inviolable principle of not leaving a soldier behind in the field, regardless of condition.&amp;nbsp; For every soldier and reservist, the lengths that Israel has gone to to bring Eldad Regev and Ehud Goldwasser home are an important reminder that, when they go into the field of battle, all of Israel and its government go with them.&amp;nbsp; It is no small comfort as you are called on to risk your life.


But, of course, there are also those who think that the imbalance of the exchange compromises Israel&apos;s security, and further complicates the delicate negotiations to secure the release of Gilad Shalit, who still languishes in Gaza.


This is an important debate, and both views have merit.&amp;nbsp; Thank God that Israel is a country where such debate is part and parcel of the body politic, and one is free to passionately agree or disagree with a decision of the government without fearing reprisal.


But as I see it, where this debate does not belong is here in the Diaspora.&amp;nbsp; It is a discussion for Israel and her citizens, which, no matter how passionately we might identify with Israel, most of us are not.&amp;nbsp; And as long as we are not, and we live here and not there, who are we to offer judgment on what the right thing is for Israel to do in a painful, no-win situation like this one?


Not far from where I live in Forest Hills, in the Jewishly dense neighborhoods of central Queens, I occasionally see windows that proudly display banners with some of the more ubiquitous slogans of Israeli politics.&amp;nbsp; One in particular that has always caught my attention is Lo Zazzim MehaGolan- We are not moving from the Golan Heights!&amp;nbsp; Every time I see it, I can&apos;t help thinking to myself &amp;quot;Hey, you&apos;re not moving from Jewel Avenue&amp;hellip; how can you make claim to have what to say about the Golan Heights?&amp;quot;


I have three children who are of Israeli army age more or less, and a fourth who will be in a few short years.&amp;nbsp; As long as my major decisions and theirs are about how they might be able to afford living on the Upper West Side, which most young Jews their age consider to be Yerushalayim shel Mattah anyway, or which gap year program in Israel to go to before they come back to their dorms and homes here, I don&apos;t see any of us having the right to offer Israel the benefit of our comfortable armchair wisdom.&amp;nbsp; On some religious policy issues, yes.&amp;nbsp; Those issues affect us directly.&amp;nbsp; On security issues like this, no.&amp;nbsp; It&apos;s not our security that is at risk.


My whole birth family lives in Israel.&amp;nbsp; My sister and her family made aliyah almost thirty years ago, and her children have all fought (and still do) in the IDF.&amp;nbsp; One nephew-in-law, about whom I&apos;ve written in this paper, nearly lost his life in the second Lebanon War.&amp;nbsp; My parents made aliyah about six years ago.&amp;nbsp; All of this may grant me some added measure of empathy with what goes on there, along with my own familiarity with Israel from the years when I lived there.&amp;nbsp; But empathy is not citizenship, and neither I nor my children are putting our lives on the line.&amp;nbsp; Crossing Queens Boulevard is about as dangerous as it gets for me.&amp;nbsp; 


It is, indeed, a good time for a reality check.

</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Israel_prisoner_exchanges.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Israel_prisoner_exchanges.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2008 16:24:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World:  Hearing God in Music</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World:&amp;nbsp; Hearing God in Music



&amp;nbsp;
I&apos;ve just returned from spending the past two days at the 19th annual North American Jewish Choral Festival in upstate New York. I am an officer of the Zamir Choral Foundation, which sponsors the festival, and spending time there is something I look forward to every year.&amp;nbsp; This year, as always, I am so proud of what it has accomplished.

This festival- the only one of its kind in the Jewish world- brings together many hundreds of accomplished and aspiring singers of Jewish choral music from around North America, and a few from Israel as well, to sing and celebrate the best of Jewish music.&amp;nbsp; In a world where Carlebach melodies are reverentially considered high art, this festival uses the vehicle of choral music to remind the Jewish world that there is culture beyond the easily singable melody.&amp;nbsp; Not that there&apos;s anything wrong with singable melodies- I love them like the next person- but there&apos;s more and better music out there, part of our cultural legacy.&amp;nbsp; And this festival is a resounding reminder of just how incredibly beautiful that music can be.

The festival has a little of everything.&amp;nbsp; There are pick-up choirs that rehearse together for three days and then perform on the last day.&amp;nbsp; There are master classes with great singers and conductors, and performances by some of the most prominent performers of our time.&amp;nbsp; This year, Theodore Bikel entertained us all with his amazing Yiddish and Hebrew repertoire, and some French, too!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; There are premieres of new music commissioned by the Foundation, and, of course, there are also chances to network with other like-minded people and to create new friendships.&amp;nbsp; At this year&apos;s program, Dr. Ruth Westheimer received a special award for her devotion to the Jewish cultural arts and support of the Zamir Choral Foundation and its work.&amp;nbsp; All of this is the brainchild of my dear friend Matthew Lazar, a musical giant whose incredible energy has transformed a &amp;quot;nice dream&amp;quot; into an overpowering reality.&amp;nbsp; 

But I think what consistently amazes me the most about the festival is its transdenominational appeal.&amp;nbsp; 

In a Jewish world so fractionalized and contentious that sometimes even simple conversation becomes impossible between Jews of different ideological stripes, the Choral Festival uses the medium of music to transcend senseless hatred and find common ground.&amp;nbsp; 

There are religious services of every stripe available, and I would wager that other than a place like the GA, this is one of the few venues in the Jewish world where Orthodox, Conservative and Reform Jews not only attend the same conference, but actually interact and learn to enjoy each other&apos;s company and passion for Jewish life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; 

Both literally and figuratively, they make beautiful music together.&amp;nbsp; In harmony.&amp;nbsp; Jewish texts come alive in ways that speak to all participants without concern for turf or legitimacy.&amp;nbsp; In ensemble music, no one note matters more than another, for all of them are a part of a whole that is simply incomplete without all the others.&amp;nbsp; 

Block that metaphor, you must be saying&amp;hellip; but really, the metaphor is exactly and entirely what today&apos;s Jewish world needs.&amp;nbsp; Music provides us all with a common vocabulary that transcends words.&amp;nbsp; Soaring harmonies set to sacred texts and Hebrew folk songs can take you places that you never dreamed of.&amp;nbsp; It&apos;s all the power of great music, with the power of Judaism factored in.

Matthew Lazar does what no one else in the Jewish world does today, fusing his passion for great music with an unequaled devotion to the Jewish people, the State of Israel, and Judaism itself.&amp;nbsp; And he does it with style- great style and class.&amp;nbsp; Both he and the festival are precious gifts to us all.
&amp;nbsp;


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Hearing_God_in_Music.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Hearing_God_in_Music.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 09:35:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			<item>
				<title>A Rabbi&apos;s World: In Appreciation of Jewish Early Childhood Education</title>
				<description>A Rabbi&apos;s World:&amp;nbsp; In Appreciation of Jewish Early Childhood Education 
&amp;nbsp;

&amp;nbsp;
More than twenty years ago, when my now twenty-five-year-old son was in Nursery School, I learned how little I understood about how the minds of young children work.

Instead of walking him to school one rainy morning, I decided to drive.&amp;nbsp; We were sitting at a red light when I noticed that the vehicle in front of me was a police van, and there was a horse inside.&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Hillel,&amp;quot; I said to my son.&amp;nbsp; &amp;quot;Look at that horse in the police van!&amp;quot;&amp;nbsp; There was a long pause, after which my son said, half to himself, &amp;quot;I wonder what the horse did&amp;hellip;&amp;quot;

It was at that remarkable moment that I realized how much more than &amp;quot;child care&amp;quot; quality early childhood education is.&amp;nbsp; And as I progressed as a parent and grew as a rabbi as well, I came to understand how precious the contribution is that quality Jewish early childhood education makes in the developing Jewish identity of a young child.

When I watch parents coming to the orientation that opens each year of our Jewish Early Childhood program, I am always keenly aware that, for many of them, it&apos;s the first time they&apos;re setting foot in a synagogue since their bar/bat mitzvah.&amp;nbsp; Ambivalence abounds.&amp;nbsp; Some very powerful rooting instinct pulls them back, but it&apos;s not an easy step for them, and their mixed feelings about their own Jewishness are written on their faces.

Their children, however, have no such ambivalence, and it is the magic of great Jewish early childhood educators that makes their first encounters with Judaism and Jewish living magical and enriching.&amp;nbsp; At the most basic level, they learn to associate the very act of walking into a synagogue building with a pleasurable experience. What a concept!&amp;nbsp; But of course they learn much more.&amp;nbsp; They learn the joy of anticipating Shabbat&apos;s arrival, and how even Friday feels special because of it.&amp;nbsp; They learn the wonderful rituals that make Jewish holidays special and unique, the importance of tzedakah, the special place of Israel in the life of a Jew, and maybe- just maybe- by learning how to play nicely with each other, they can extrapolate the importance of Jews learning to play and work nicely with each other as well.

Our Nursery School director of fourteen years, a wonderful woman named Adrienne Cohen, just retired following the completion of this past school year.&amp;nbsp; As I stood with her at a dinner in her honor, I tried to come up with the right words to pay her tribute.&amp;nbsp; I think I spoke nicely, but I realized as I was speaking that I couldn&apos;t really say enough.&amp;nbsp; There&apos;s really no adequate way to acknowledge the contribution of a Jewish educator whose life&apos;s work has been to teach our youngest children how to love being Jewish. 

Undoing the cynicism and alienation that some adult Jews bring with them to synagogue life is a terribly difficult challenge.&amp;nbsp; I hope it&apos;s as difficult to lose the good feelings that are produced by a great Jewish Early Childhood program!&amp;nbsp; 


</description>
				<link>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Jewish_early_childhood_education.html</link>
				<guid>http://blog.thejewishweek.com/post/Jewish_early_childhood_education.html</guid>
				<author>jdbesser@gmail.com (James Besser)</author>
				<pubDate>Fri, 11 Jul 2008 09:14:00 CST</pubDate>
				<category>A Rabbi's World</category>
			</item>
			
			</channel>
			</rss>
		