Archive for October, 2006

Our Green Shul

mishkan-day-view-1.jpgPlease allow me to brag just a bit about my synagogue, Jewish Reconstructionist Congregation, which is currently constructing a brand new building in Evanston, IL. We’re looking to earn a gold rating with the US Green Building Council, which would make it the “greenest” synagogue in the country!

Here’s a recent Chicago Tribune article describing our project:

October 27, 2006

Temple Plans Eco-Friendly Makeover

An Evanston congregation hope to become the nation’s first “green” synagogue.

By Deborah Horan

Tribune Staff Reporter

By building a new home with salvaged brick, low-flow toilets and solar-powered lights, the Jewish Reconstructionist Congregation in Evanston hopes to become to first certified “green” synagogue in the nation.

Congregants said they drew from Jewish teachings on respecting God’s creation when they decided to construct the $6.5 million house of worship according to U.S. Green Building Council “gold status” specifications.

“Anything we can do to help the environment is in our best interest and in our children’s best interest,” said Alan Saposnik, the synagogue’s board president.

The congregation held a groundbreaking ceremony Sunday to celebrate ambitious plans to replace an older synagogue at 303 Dodge Ave. with the new one at the same spot. The old synagogue is being demolished, and the green-friendly one is slated for completion by the end of 2007.

During a recent sermon titled, “Walking the Walk: The Sacred Art of Energy Conservation,” Rabbi Brant Rosen told the congregation that God created the world to be inherently sustainable and that sustainability depends upon human behavior.

“To put it simply, the future of our world is up to us,” Rosen said, according to a transcript.

Sapsosnik said the new synagogue will feature energy-efficient boilers, heavy insulation, flourescent lights inside the synagogue and solar ones in the parking lot – all designed to reduce energy consumption by about a third from the usual standards.

Sensors will automatically shut off lights if they detect no movement in a room. Large windows will maximize natural light, and a white roof will deflect sunlight to reduce dependancy on air conditioning in the summer, Saposnik said.

The landscaping won’t require permanent irrigation, and about 80 percent of the building material will come from recycled sources, including old bricks from the demolished synagogue. Architects plan to use recycled cypress wood to build the facade.

“We want to use material that might have gone into a landfill,” said Michael Ross of Ross Barney Architechts, which designed the new synagogue.

Each element of the desgin that conserves energy earns points toward Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design certification, said Helen Kessler of HJ Kessler Associates, a consultant working with the synagogue.

A score of 39 qualifies a building for gold status; a score of 52 confers platinum status.

The synagogue went for gold because many of the features that would have counted toward a platinum rating – such as a geothermal heat pump system – were too expensive, Kessler said.

In January, the synagogue became the first in the nation to register with the Green Building Council to become LEED certified. Only one place of worship – the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Wooster, Ohio – has earned gold status, according to Caitlin Bennett, a council spokeswoman.

The council will not grant certification to the synagogue until it can inspect the building after completion, Bennett said. But according to the design, it is on track to earn 40-odd points, Kessler said.

Few non-profits and places of worship seek LEED certification because going green can be expensive, Saposnik said. The green-friendly features of the Evanston synagogue, for instance, will add $650,000 – roughly 10 percent of the building’s total costs.

The synagogue received a grant of $105,000 from the Illinois Clearn Energy Community Foundation to help defray those costs, said Bob Romo, program officer at the foundation.

The synagogue will have to raise enough money to foot the difference.

The congregation expects to recoup some of the expense through lower heating, air conditioning and electricity bills.

Jesse Greenberg, a domestic affairs associate at the Jewish Community Relations Council in Chicago, said he doubted many synagogues would seek to become green enough to qualify for LEED certification.

But, he said, his organization has started an envirnomental awareness campaign to encourage synagogues to do what they can to conserve energy by installing flourescent lights, carpeting and new windows.

“It really comes from our sacred texts, the Torah and the Talmud,” Greenberg said of his council’s environmental push.

The campaign, only three months old, includes a flier with a slogan taken from Ecclesiastes to drive the point home: “See to it that you do not destroy my world, for if you do there will be no one else to repair it.”

“Our Jewish values (encourage) us to take care of our environment,” Greenberg said.

On Fair Trade and Rabbinical Authority

cffee.jpgOn October 17, in the blog “A Blog from the Underground” libertarianwannabe discussed my 10/11 post “Mirembe Kawomera.” Here’s what libertarianwannabe had to say:

I happenned to stumble on a blog through wordpress’s list of the fastest growing blogs. It seems interesting and well-written although it comes from a left-wing Reconstruction (redundancy?) viewpoint and four posts in it shows. Take the second post abput some over-priced Fair Trade coffee (that seems to be the popular phrase to use by the rich when they either rip the poor off or decide to massage their conscience by overpaying them)

<<Why is a rabbi going on about Fair Trade Coffee? Because I believe it’s a mitzvah to drink it. After all, Judaism teaches us over and over again to be socially responsible consumers, to act justly toward workers and to alleviate poverty in our world. So what could be more Jewish than drinking Fair Trade Coffee?>>

He essentially fingers the problem facing the Reconstruction and Reform movement, namely what authority does the Rabbi have and in fact what’s the reason to listen to him. So they turn to left-wing activism and such causes and then claim that the Torah makes it a mitzvah to do such a thing. Of course no claim would be made about what a person who drinks free-trade coffee (a product for us invisible handers) is doing. However the website is very interesting and readable.

To libertarianwannabe:

First of all, thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments. “Interesting” and “Readable” are definitely two things I want my blog to be.

One important point of clarification: the name of the Jewish denomination to which I belong is “Reconstructionism,” not “Reconstruction.” I encourage you and other readers to learn more about my movement – click here for more information. (“Reconstruction,” on the other hand, refers to a period of American history immediately following the Civil War. Click here if you’d like to learn more about that).

Though perhaps I did the cause of Fair Trade a disservice by raising and discussing it in a very short post, I have no interest in getting into an economic shoving match with a libertarian on this subject. I will only say it is difficult for me to understand how anyone can claim poor coffee growers could possibly be “overpaid” or that Fair Trade “rips them off.” I encourage readers to learn more about Fair Trade, what it stands for, and it is such a critically important global movement.

By what authority do I make my claims? Your very use of the word “authority” is an interesting one – and it betrays your traditional bias regarding the sources of religious authority. As a Reconstructionist rabbi, I do not purport to be a religious authority figure. We Reconstructionists believe that in the contemporary world, religious authority more appropriately resides in educated decisions made by individuals and communities. We also believe that most Jews today do not desire their rabbis to be authority figures, but rather Jewish teachers, advocates, resources and leaders. My studies at the Recontructionist Rabbinical College trained me in this regard, and as a rabbi I can only hope these roles provide sufficient cause for folks to “listen to me.”

In a comment to your post, “Rachel” responded:

The guy doesn’t even bother to work in relevant Bible Quotes, he just assumes we don’t need anything other than our leftist ideals.

Fair enough, Rachel. I agree with you, actually. I share your impatience with rabbis who short shrift Jewish tradition and assume that their mere title will give their words the necessary Jewish gravitas.

So let me expand on my claims a bit. Yes, I do passionately believe that it is a mitzvah to buy Fair Trade coffee – but not simply because of my “leftist ideals.” After all, Judaism teaches that:

1. We are obligated to be responsible consumers.

As Maimonidies taught in the Mishneh Torah (Laws of Theft 5:1):

One may not buy from a thief the goods he has stolen and to do so is a great transgression because it strengthens the hands of those who violate the law and causes the theif to continue to steal for if the thief would find no buyer he would not steal, as it is written, “He who shares with a thief is his own enemy.

While purchasing coffee is not literally the same as buying stolen goods, we can and should make the case that consumers have an obligation to educate themselves about the source of the goods they purchase. It is thus reasonable to infer that consumers should not purchase any goods that the seller has obtained unethically or unfairly.

2. We are obligated to insure that workers are treated justly.

In Deuteronomy 24:14-15, we learn,

You shall not abuse a needy and destitute laborer, whether a fellow countryman or a stranger in one of the communities of your land. You must pay him his wages on the same day, before the sun sets, for he is needy and urgently depends upon it.

We should underline here the line “urgently depends upon it.” Poor workers depend upon a reasonable wage for their very livelihood. If coffee farmers work hard to produce a product that we want and need, we have an obligation to insure they receive a fair wage that will allow them to live a sustainable life.

3. We are obligated to help the poor.

In Midrash Exodus Rabbah 31:12 we read:

There is nothing in the world more grievous than poverty – the most terrible of sufferings. Our teachers have said: if all the troubles of the world are assembled on one side and poverty is on the other, poverty would outweigh them all.

And how do Jews help allieviate poverty? The primary Jewish method is through the giving of tzedakah. Maimonidies famously taught that the highest level of tzedakah is by entering into business partnerships that help the poor become self-sufficient. When we buy Fair Trade coffee, we are doing just that.

For those who are interested in Fair Trade and grassroots sustainable development from a specifically Jewish point of view, I highly recommend the work of American Jewish World Service (who helped educate me on much of the above).

Thanks again for reading!

Parashat Noach 5767

noahs-ark.jpgWhile Noah’s Ark is a popular Bible story for children, there is nothing particularly childish about it. It often occurs to me, not completely facetiously, that Noah’s Ark isn’t a very appropriate story for kids.

The Noah story is actually a very adult cautionary tale about the human penchant for destruction and the spiritual consequences of violence. These themes are presented vividly at the outset: in Genesis 6:11 God sees that the “earth had become corrupt” (“vatishchat ha’aretz”). It is notable that the Hebrew word for corruption (“shachat”) also means “destroy” or “slaughter.” It no coincidence that the same word is used for God’s destruction of the world (6:17) suggesting that humanity’s destructive tendencies ultimately became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Following the Flood, God indicates an acceptance that violence is an indelible part of human nature (8:21) and creates laws designed to help mitigate its humanity’s bloodlust (see 9:4 and 9:6). In this regard, the Noah story teaches hard lessons about the darker aspects of the human species as well as the ongoing need to keep them at bay.

When I teach this story to children, I usually find that they are less disturbed by humanity’s behavior than God’s. Sure, people behave badly – but why should God? Why does God respond to destruction and violence with more destruction and violence?

Short of apologetics, there are no good answers to questions like these. (“I don’t know, Annie, why do you think God behaves this way?”) But, yes, it is difficult to ignore the fact that that God exhibits a markedly human frustration and impatience in the Noah narrative (see 6:6). In some ways, God’s “bloodthirsty” behavior seems to be a powerful mirror reflection of humanity’s. Even the rainbow sign itself might be viewed as a reminder for God to mitigate God’s more destructive impulses.

Though different readers will draw different theological conclusions from the Noah story, the essential imperative is clear for us all: we must learn to face and transcend our penchant for violence and destruction. The ultimate stakes – the very future of life on our planet – remain the same for us as they did for Noah’s generation.

The Jewishness of the Long Distance Runner

marathon-man.jpg“Schindler’s List?” “The Chosen?” “Fiddler on the Roof?” Naaahhh…

I like “Marathon Man.”

Yep, for my money, one of the great Jewish movies of the last thirty years. You’re dubious? I’ll explain.

“Marathon Man” (1976) is the story of Babe Levy (Dustin Hoffman), a Jewish graduate student and long distance runner. A series of complex events set him at odds with an ex-Nazi death camp doctor named Christian Szell (Laurence Olivier) who has come out of hiding in South America to travel to New York City in order to retrieve a fortune in stolen diamonds.

Most remember this movie for the infamous scene in which Szell tortures Babe with a dentist’s drill, mistakenly assuming he knows where the diamonds can be found. (“Is it safe? Is it safe?”) In the end, Babe manages to literally outrun his tormentors and he eventually turns the tables on Szell in a climactic scene at the Central Park reservoir.

In thrillers such as this, one would expect the lead to be the classic tough guy. As played by Hoffman, however, Babe, is a Jewish anti-hero: he is short, bookish, and is picked on by the tough residents of his neighborhood. But, being a marathon runner, Babe is also tenacious, driven and almost obsessively focused. As film critic Kathryn Bernheimer notes, “In the end, it is Babe’s ability to withstand pain and his endurance – products of his running as well as his heritage – that allow him to triumph over his Nazi persecutor.” Interestingly, Babe’s older brother, a shadowy secret agent named Doc (Roy Scheider) is cut more from the traditional action hero mold, but “Marathon Man” counterintuatively opts to make Babe the primary protagonist. The juxtaposition of these two Jewish archetypes provides a fascinating counterpoint to one another – but given their respective fates, the film makes it clear its money is on the long distance runner.

The ending of the movie makes a particularly powerful Jewish statement. As it turns out, the way this scene was created is something of a story in itself. In the recent book “Stars of David” by Abigail Pogrebin, Dustin Hoffman claims he refused to act in the scene as originally written by screenwriter William Goldman: with Babe shooting Szell point blank in cold blood. Hoffman’s refusal apparently precipitated a summit meeting with Goldman and director John Schlesinger, where Hoffman says he told them flatly, “No I won’t play a Jew who cold-bloodedly kills another human being. I won’t become a Nazi to kill a Nazi. I won’t demean myself.”

Hoffman’s strong convictions led to the much more dramatic and emotionally powerful scene in which Babe never loses the moral upper hand and the Nazi still gets his ultimate comeuppance in the end. This critical change in the ending lends all the more poignancy and symbolism to “Marathon Man’s” final image. It is for me, one of the classic Jewish moments in film: Babe throws his gun into the reservoir and slowly runs off into the distance. Of course, if he had shot Szell, this act would simply have meant he was disposing of his murder weapon. But with the changed ending, this image has a much deeper symbolic resonance.

In Hoffman’s words, “That’s important to me: that I didn’t shoot him in the end. Being a Jew is not losing your humanity and not losing your soul. That’s what they were unable to do when they tried to erase the race; they tried to take the soul away. That was the plan.”

To Talk or Not to Talk?

syria.jpgWhat harm is there in talking? I’m sure experts on the fine art of diplomacy would offer all kinds of complicated answers to this question, but for this non-expert, the question still remains. What harm is there in just talking? What, exactly, is the down side?

At the moment, Israel’s government is debating this very issue vis a vis the question of talks with Syria. In recent statements, Syrian President Bashar Assad has stated he is ready to talk peace with Israel, and his overtures have given rise to a remarkable spectrum of reactions from Israeli leaders. As Israeli columnist Gershom Gorenberg wrote in the Jewish Forward earlier this month, these responses are particularly fascinating because they don’t break down predictably along Israeli political lines. (Those opposed to talks with Syria include Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and the dovish Labor Party member Ephraim Sneh. Those advocating talks include Olmert’s own Defense Minister Amir Peretz and Internal Security Minister Avi Dichter, as well as the Likud Party’s former military Chief of Staff, Moshe Ya’alon).

Since I’m not a pundit, I won’t venture a guess as to whether or not Assad’s overtures are genuine. (For those interested in further analyses on this subject, I highly recommend Syria expert Joshua Landis’ blog SyriaComment). I will only ask this: what would be the harm in finding out?

The fact that this question is being publicly considered by Israel’s political establishment can only be seen as a positive and healthy sign. Alas, it seems to be a discussion our own government is incapable of having.

Indeed, the Bush administration has made no secret of its desire to isolate Syria internationally. Just last month, Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice called on other nations to join the US in imposing sanctions on Syria, though she didn’t specify what exactly she had in mind. Our government has also made no secret of its goal to remake the Middle East in its image. Some suggest, alarmingly, that there is still a hope in the Bush administration for a regime change opportunity in Syria. (See SyriaComment on this point).

There are indications that Olmert’s unwillingness to respond to Assad stems primarily from US pressure. So this is what it’s come to: an ideologically-driven US administration might actively be discouraging Israel from even entertaining the possibility of talks with a potential partner in peace. These days, the prospect of the US serving as an authentic broker in the Mideast peace process feels little more than a bygone dream.

To those who believe that engaging with one’s enemies is simply appeasement, I would respond: where exactly has unilateralism gotten us? It is truly a sign of the times that none other than former Secretary of State James Baker recently remarked in an ABC interview: “I believe in talking to your enemies. In my view, it’s not appeasement to talk to your enemies.”

Amen to that. Where there’s talk, there’s hope.

Non-Random Acts of Kindness

sky085.jpgMany of you are familiar, I’m sure, with the ubiquitous bumper sticker that says, “Practice Random Acts of Kindness and Senseless Acts of Beauty.” I will confess to you (with all due apologies to any of you who may have this sticker on your car) that I am not a big fan of this particular message.

Of course there is nothing wrong at all with encouraging kindness and beauty. But personally speaking, I would argue the exact opposite. I would argue for “Non-Random Acts of Kindness and Mindful Acts of Beauty.” If you really think about it, kindness shouldn’t be random – frankly, it should be mandatory. (God forbid if we could only depend upon the kindness of strangers when they happened to be “randomly kind” toward us…)

Actually, I think this slogan reveals something very important about contemporary American culture. As a society that values individual initiative, it is natural that we will view compassion as a random, voluntary enterprise. So we act compassionately whenever we feel compassionate. And to be sure, we might well feel a great deal of compassion for others – for our loved ones, and even for people we don’t actually know. The problem, of course, is that feelings cannot be guaranteed. They come and go. Feelings are, by definition, elusive and transient.

Jewish tradition provides us with a different model. Compassion is not random – it is an imperative. Even love itself is commanded: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “You shall love Adonai your God.” “You shall love the stranger, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt.”

In other words, compassion should not be reduced to random feeling. Judaism teaches that compassion should be a mindful, ongoing conscious practice. We should teach ourselves how to be compassionate even if we are not feeling particularly compassionate – even if we are too overwhelmed to feel compassionate. Compassion is, for lack of a better word, a discipline.

The most well known Hebrew word for compassion, “rachamim,” comes from the root rechem, or “womb” and suggests the kind of unconditional compassion that comes with parental love. More broadly, we might understand rachamim as the kind of compassion that we show toward those with whom we have a unique personal connection. The word “chen” is usually translated as “grace.” This form of compassion generally refers to gestures of favor or goodwill.

And then there is “chesed,” a word that is usually rendered as “lovingkindness,” but might be more accurately renedered as “covenantal loyalty.” Chesed is the kind of love and compassion that comes from a deeper sense of mutual obligation and communal accountability. When people live “covenantally,” it is with the explicit understanding that the community is accountable to the individual just as much as the individual is accountable to the community.

Though the Torah presents this covenantal model in a Jewish context, I would suggest that as Americans we would do well to apply it to our national community at large. Too often, it seems, American culture venerates individual freedoms to such an extent that we often view the suggestion of communal obligation as a personal violation. In a covenantal context, however, our individual freedom is necessarily refracted through the experience of our mutual responsibility to one another.

Clearly this notion has very real political implications – and in the end, I’m not sure what it would take to create an authentic sense of convenant in our increasingly divided American body politic. But I do believe that as long as we view our mutual responsibility to one another as random or voluntary, true compassion will be in increasingly limited supply in our country. If we affirm that our compassion is not dependant on how we happen to feel, but is rather guided by a sense of obligation and responsibility to one another, then maybe, just maybe, we might find that our compassion is not as limited or arbitrary a commodity as it often seems.

So here’s my new bumpersticker: “With Compassion Comes Responsibility.”

People You Should Know About: Shoaib Choudhury

shoaib.jpgI urge readers to act on behalf of Salah Udin Shoaib Choudhury, a courageous Muslim journalist who was imprisoned for promoting interfaith understanding in his country.

Choudhury is a prominent, award winning Bangladeshi newspaper editor who has promoted religious tolerance, spoken out against Islamic radicalism, and urged his country to recognize Israel. In 2003, he was charged with sedition (a capital offense in Bangladesh) and subsequently imprisoned for 17 months. He was released in April 2005 and is currently awaiting trial.

In the meantime, Choudhury continues to advocate his positions publicly, despite the growing threat to his safety. The Jerusalem Post reported yesterday that on October 5, he was attacked and beaten in his office by a crowd that allegedly included leading officials of the country’s ruling party.

Choudhury’s case has been tirelessly advocated by Dr. Richard Benkin, a Chicago-area Jewish activist. Click here to learn more about Benkin’s efforts. The American Jewish Committe website offers ways you can act on Choudhury’s behalf.

Complete Immobilization

scream.jpg“Dancing is the complete immobilization.”
- The 2000 Year Old Man

“These are people who want to come and kill your families.”
- President Bush to Matt Lauer on The Today Show, (September 12, 2006)

“The whole world is a narrow bridge, but the main thing is not to fear.”
- Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav

The 2000 Year Old Man (aka Mel Brooks) claims that most of our cultural rituals were originally created out of fear. Singing, for instance, evolved from the need to invent louder and louder ways of crying for help. The handshake was created to keep the other guy’s hand immobile, lest he was holding a sharp stick that he might poke in your eye. Dancing, he explained, was “the complete immobilization” of your potential enemy. (“Both hands, and you keep the feet busy so he can’t kick you!”)

Maybe he’s on to something. After all, fear has become such a complete aspect of our post-9/11 national culture, you might say we are fast approaching something resembling “complete immobilization.” If there was ever any doubt, it can now be officially stated: we Americans are a profoundly fearful people.

With the November 2006 elections almost upon us, some pundits are claiming that the politics of fear has finally outlived its usefulness. Whether or not this is true, it must also be admitted that fear per se is not necessarily a bad thing. Indeed, our fear reflex has served us well during the course of our evolution as a species. It’s just that in this complex 21st century world, it’s so hard to know which of our fears are irrational and which are truly justified.

Here’s a paradigm from Jewish tradition that might be instructive:

In Hebrew there are two oft-used words for fear: “pachad” and “yirah.” I like to define pachad (often translated as “dread”) as our fear of the Boogie Man – those dark irrational fears that awaken us suddenly at four in the morning. Pachad might also be understood as our fear of The Other – the fear of that which we do not understand and that which we do not wish to understand.

Yirah, on the other hand, is often translated as “awe.” To be in awe, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel famously taught, is to experience “radical amazement.” To stand in wonder before a a reality that far transcends our knowledge or understanding. Awe may sometimes be a fearful experience, but yirah cannot be defined exclusively by fear. It is defined equally by our humility, our respect, our acceptance of the ultimate limits of our power in the world. When we learn to stand in awe, we use our fear as a springboard to embracing a truth much greater than ourselves.

When the great Hasidic master, Reb Nachman of Bratzlav said “the main thing is not to fear,” he was recognizing both the reality and the paralyzing nature of pachad. Yes, it is natural and even necessary to have fears – but we must beware lest we allow our fears to consume us.

To put it simply, pachad is the fear that reflects our darkest selves, and yirah is the fear that reveals our deepest humanity. And in so many ways, it seems to me, recognizing the difference between the two will be key to crossing the “narrow bridge” of our post-9/11 world.

Darfur FAQs

darfur.jpgQuestion #1: How can we reasonably compare the crisis in Darfur to the sheer scale of evil that was the Holocaust?

Of course there are aspects to the Holocaust that set it apart from other genocides. This claim, however, is largely academic. At the end of the day, there is nothing to be accomplished by insisting upon what makes our suffering different from all suffering. What is more critical is what all genocides have in common. As the great Israeli Holocaust scholar Yehuda Bauer has written:

Each genocide is different, but it would be a mistake to dismiss the similarities. Foremost among them is the suffering of the victims. There is no better or worse genocide, just as there is no better or worse murder, no better or worse torture. There is no scale to measure suffering. Jews, Armenians or Poles who were martyred and murdered all suffered the same. (Jewish Forward, May 13, 2005)

Underlying this question is one of the more unwelcome phenomena in Jewish life: our tendency to tend to cling tenaciously to the “uniqueness” of the Holocaust. We assert and reassert that the Nazi war against the Jews was different from other genocides. We insist that it was more extreme, more complete, more insidious in its conception and execution. As empathetic as we Jews may generally be, many of us recoil when we hear of another atrocity even compared to the Holocaust. It has become our untouchable event – the evil against which nothing can ever be compared.

When we stubbornly insist upon the uniqueness of the Holocaust, it can easily numb us to the crimes that are committed against others. After all, the logical conclusion of this thinking is to believe that nothing done to anyone else could ever be as horrible or as wrong as what was perpetrated against us. And as a result, we end up closing our hearts to the evil perpetrated in our own day. Or worse: we use our own pain as a weapon against the outside world.

It is encouraging that organizations such as American Jewish World Service and the Jewish Council for Public Affairs have provided important leadership for the Save Darfur Coalition. Indeed, the growing participation of Jewish voices in the protest against the Darfur genocide provides hopeful evidence that the Jewish community may have turned a critical corner on this issue. If so, this would be a welcome development. When it comes to protesting genocide, Jews, of all people, should be leading the charge.

Question #2: Among the myriad of human rights crises currently being perpetrated in the world today, why are we spending so much time and attention focusing on Darfur?

It is true that no small number of global abuses currently cry out for our attention. But it is important to bear in mind that human rights abuses do not occur in a vacuum. For instance, if one logs on to the websites of Human Rights Watch or Amnesty International to learn more about the Darfur crisis, one invariably learns about war crimes in the Northern Uganda, Burnudi and the Congo. At the US Holocaust Memorial Museum’s Committee on Conscience website, one finds that in addition to Darfur, Southern Sudan and Chechnya are on their”standing agenda” for genocide watch.

Activists may often compartmentalize issues for good tactical reasons, but in truth these issues are fundamentally related to one another. The more we educate ourselves and raise our consciousness about one specific issue, the more we invariably learn about how these issues are fundamentally interconnected. Whereas it might seem that working on one specific cause might naturally exclude work on other worthy causes, the opposite is actually true: activism tend to expand exponentially.

One example from my own congregation may serve to illuminate this point more fully. Our Global AIDS Task Force recently sponsored a World AIDS Day program in which we heard from a local doctor, Dr. Marge Cohen, about a new Rwandan Women’s AIDS clinic. Although it is well known that this pandemic has been decimating communities in Sub-Saharan Africa, there has been a marked increase in HIV/AIDS among Rwandan women. Why? It is due in large part to the widespread and systematic rape of Tutsi women during the Rwandan genocide in the mid-1990s.

In other words, through the course of our work on the HIV/AIDS pandemic, our consciousness was raised on the issue of genocide. And it has not ended there. As our AIDS Task Force will attest, our activism on this issue has connected to us to a deeper understanding and concern about a variety of issues, including global poverty, grassroots sustainable development, and women’s rights. Though AIDS may have been the initial entry point for our activism, it has inevitably led to other points along a larger global continuum.

It is thus a fallacy to consider activism to be a “zero-sum game.” As those who work for social justice and human rights will attest, action begets action.

Question #3: The genocide in Darfur is the product of age-old tribal conflicts that have little to do with us. Who are we to insert ourselves into this situation?

This is not an uncommon reaction to the news of genocide or human rights abuse around the world. While Serbia was ethnically cleansing Bosnian Muslims, for instance, Secretary of State Warren Christopher referred to it as “a humanitarian crisis a long way from home, in the middle of another continent.“ Whether it is Serbs massacring Bosnians, or Hutus killing Tutsis in Rwanda, our gut reaction is invariably the same – it is all too easy for us to dismiss these events as the result of ancient and tribal hatreds occurring in another part of the world – battles that are not our concern and that we are powerless to do anything about.

However, Jews of all people should understand the profoundly fatal consequences of such attitudes. After all, in 1938, British foreign minister Neville Chamberlain referred to the war in Europe as “a quarrel in a foreign country between people of whom we know nothing.” How often have we Jews asked, “Where was the world in our hour of need?” How often have we ourselves taken the rest of the world to task for standing by while the Nazis implemented their Final Solution?

There can be only one logical conclusion: if we hold the world accountable to us, then we must be accountable to world as well. Or as Elie Wiesel has eloquently put it: “How can we reproach the indifference of non-Jews to Jewish suffering if we remain indifferent to another people’s plight?” (from remarks delivered at the Darfur Emergency Summit, July 14, 2004.)

The preamble of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted by the General Assembly of the United Nations in 1948 refers to “the inherent dignity and the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family.” Indeed, the inherent worth of all human life, so central to contemporary definitions of human rights, have been influenced in no small way by the Torah’s teaching that all humanity is created in God’s image.

Who are we to insert ourselves into this current situation? Who are we not to?

Question #4: The genocide in Darfur is occurring in the context of a complicated and convoluted political situation. Is there anything private citizens can realistically do to end it?

Private citizens are not as powerless to stop genocides as we often profess. As human rights scholars and activists have long pointed out, genocidal regimes are often encouraged by the world’s silence. In her book, “A Problem From Hell,” Samantha Power writes:

Hitler was emboldened by the fact that absolutely nobody “remembered the Armenians.” Saddam Hussein, noting the international community’s relaxed response to his chemical weapons attacks against Iran and his bulldozing of Kurdish villages, rightly assumed that he would not be punished for using poison gases against his own people. (Slobodan) Milosevic saw that he got away with the brutal suppression of an independence movement in Croatia, and reasoned he would pay no price for committing genocide in Bosnia and Kosovo. (pp. 506-507.)

If we do agree that genocide is enabled by silence, then we must also agree that it is the responsibility of our politicians, Washington lobbyists, the media, organizations and, yes, private citizens to shine the brightest light possible on these atrocities. If the politics of the situation are complex, then we must educate ourselves and others about the issues at hand and strongly advocate realistic and effective courses of action.

In the case of Darfur, this might mean any number of measures, be they military (i.e., providing UN peacekeepers, mobilizing NATO to establish a No – Fly Zone), diplomatic (i.e., encouraging President Bush to apply pressure on Sudan trading partners such as China and Russia) or economic (i.e., lobbying State legislatures to follow the example of the states that have already divested their considerable investments in Sudan).

The Khartoum government, like so many genocidal regimes before it, assumes the world will consider this crisis to be an internal Sudanese issue – and so it will be as long as the world refuses to speak out and bring its atrocities into the light of day. Activists thus have a crucial and sacred role to play: to ensure that the cry of Darfur remain front and center on the world’s conscience.

Even the most cynical among us should be reminded that this issue is not nearly as complicated as we tend to think. Years from now, the history of the Darfur genocide will have been written. When your children and grandchildren ask you about your role in this history, you will answer either that you spoke out or that you remained silent.

What will your answer be?

(Visit Save Darfur for up to date information and learn how you can make a difference.)

Mirembe Kawomera

coffee-beans.jpgYou should buy Fair Trade Coffee.

If you drink coffee, that is. If you aren’t, I’m not recommending that you create a new addiction, but if you happen to be like me and millions of other hopelessly addicted caffeine junkies, you should at least be aware of the larger economic implications of your habit.

Some basic facts: coffee is the second most actively traded commodity in the world, after oil. Since 1990, retail sales of coffee have increased to $80 billion from $30 billion. Globally, about 2 billion cups of coffee are consumed a day – and 400 million of those are in the United States. Four multinational corporations (Philip Morris, Procter & Gamble, Nestle, and Sara Lee) control 70% of the world coffee market, with the international price determined in New York and London.

At the other end of the equation, more than 25 million farmers and coffee laborers depend upon coffee cultivation for their livelihood. Most of them live in dire poverty because the price of coffee has fallen drastically in recent years. By drinking Fair Trade Coffee, you are supporting efforts to guarantee coffee farmers and workers a fixed price for their product, which in turn will help support the sustainable development of their communities. (Fair Trade has more than just economic implications, however. Click this link to learn more.)

Why is a rabbi going on about Fair Trade Coffee? Because I believe it’s a mitzvah to drink it. After all, Judaism teaches us over and over again to be socially responsible consumers, to act justly toward workers and to alleviate poverty in our world. So what could be more Jewish than drinking Fair Trade Coffee?

My personal favorite is Mirembe Kawomera (“Delicious Peace”), a Fair Trade Coffee produced by a Ugandan Jewish/Muslim/Christian cooperative. It is distributed in the US through Thanksgiving Coffee and can be easily bought via the Internet.

So you should drink Fair Trade Coffee. And if you want to support economic justice AND interfaith cooperation in a world that desperately needs both, you should drink Mirembe Kawomera.

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Welcome to "Shalom Rav," a collection of posts that have nothing much in common other than my desire to share them with you.

While some of my posts are related to my day job (I serve as Rabbi of Jewish Reconstructionist Congregation in Evanston, IL), the opinions I express here are mine alone and do not reflect official stands of my congregation or any organization with which I'm affiliated.

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