Israel, Diaspora Jews, Women, and a Wall

I've been following with much interest the incident at the Kotel (Western Wall) in Jerusalem in which a Conservative Jewish woman was arrested for wearing a tallit (prayer shawl). Nofrat Frenkel (pictured) was led away by Jerusalem police in November for the "crime" of praying with a tallit at the Western Wall. She is a member of Women of the Wall.

This story only highlighted what many have known about Israel for a long time. It is not a democracy when it comes to the religious practices of its citizens. Much has been written about this travesty since Frenkel's arrest and the incident has only caused the Women of the Wall to be more active in their pursuit of religious equality.

The most recent development in the story is the police interrogation of Anat Hoffman, director of the Israel Religious Action Center and leader of Women of the Wall yesterday. Hoffman was told that she is a suspect in a felony for not obeying a legal order and disrupting the peace. She denied the accusation, stating "the people who disturbed the peace at the wall were the men who protested out loud against the women of the wall and not the over 100 women who prayed together and celebrated the new month."

I haven't written about this on my blog since there's just not much more to say. I wish the Israeli government would get its act together and allow for various interpretations of religion in the country. How many different ways can that be stated?

The reason I mention this now, however, is because of the way in which this ongoing conflict has been used by Israeli journalist Noam Sheizaf (pictured) to describe what he calls Jewish Americans' case of split personality disorder when it comes to Israel.

When I first stumbled on Sheizaf's article (through a Google Alert) it was on a Pro-Palestinian website so I was skeptical about his perspective. However, the article originated on Sheizaf's "Promised Land" website and is an intelligent essay about why most Jewish Americans are so hesitant to criticize Israel publicly.

The Maariv newspaper editor writes, "My friend noted that if some of the articles on the Israeli media – and not even the most radical ones – were to be printed in the US and signed by non-Jews, they would be considered by most Jewish readers like an example of dangerous Israel-bashing, sometimes even anti-Semitism."

Sheizaf articulates very well the seemingly ironic position that so many liberal American Jews find themselves in concerning their views on Israel. Admittedly, I am in this category. I never criticize Israel or its government's policies publicly, because, well, it's Israel -- my Israel, my homeland. The Jewish state has enough critics, I reason; it could use more people playing defense for the team. But when it comes to religious pluralism, I have no problem expressing my frustration for the control that the ultra-Orthodox wields in Israel. A monopoly by one denomination of a religion for all official religious acts is not democratic.

Sheizaf uses the recent incidents at the Kotel with the Women of the Wall to underscore his point:

Here is an example: as we all know, the Orthodox Jewish establishment has an official statues in Israel (unlike most Western countries, state and religion are not separated here, and the chief Orthodox Rabbi has a position similar to this of a supreme court justice). The same Orthodox establishment is very hostile to none-Orthodox Jews, which happen to make most of the American Jewish community. A few weeks ago, Fifth-year medical student Nofrat Frenkel was arrested for wearing a talit at the Kotel. I expected all hell to break in the States. After all, this concerns Jews’ right to practice their faith in the most holy place in the world. I wouldn’t say the event went unnoticed – I saw some blog posts and articles referring to the incident, and Forward published Frenkel’s account of the day – but it certainly wasn’t enough for people in Israel to notice. If American Jews spoke on this matter, it was with a voice that nobody heard.

Now imagine the public outrage if Frenkel was arrested anywhere else in the world for wearing a talit. For some reason, many Jews accept the fact that only in Israel – the same country which asks for their political and financial support – they are seen almost as Goyim. Very few of these Jews will admit that Israel is simply not a very tolerant place, to say the least.

What followed the incident in the Kotel was even more interesting: speaking at a convention of the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, the Israeli ambassador to Washington Michael Oren said that Frenkel was not arrested but just “led away” by police from the area after offending some people’s feelings there. This was simply not true – she did get arrested – and two weeks later Oren admitted to this fact and claimed he was given “incomplete information” from Jerusalem (even though the fact of Frenkel’s arrest was widely known and never disputed, both in Israel and in the US). Yet even then the ambassador didn’t provide any explanation for the arrest itself, and nobody seemed to demand it from him anymore. More importantly, if there was some discomfort felt in the Jewish community regarding the way ambassador Oren handled the whole affair, it failed again to reach the Israeli media or the Israeli public.

It is interesting that there hasn't been more of a public outrage among Jews in the Diaspora about the way in which women are treated at Judaism's holiest site in its holiest city. The fight waged by Reform and Conservative Jews in the Diaspora on the Haredi monopoly in Israel has continued over the past two decades in a passive way. From the comfort of our Diaspora pulpits, we Conservative rabbis express our disdain that our conversions aren't recognized in Israel and that we can't hold a mixed male/female minyan at the Western Wall, but when we get to Jerusalem, we walk our group to the Southern promenade (the back of the bus) with our tail between our legs.

I believe that what Sheizaf is saying is that if American Jews would only "grow up" and formulate a more mature (and realistic) perspective on Israel qua nation-state, then there would be more advances in the realm of religious pluralism. I confess that I love to remind critics of Israel that the Jewish state is the only real democracy in that region. However, religious freedom must be a prerequisite for true democracy.

Sheizaf concludes with a recollection from when he staffed a 5-week American teen tour of Israel. He notes that "as far as politics and history goes, it was elementary school level, with the whole program avoiding any issue that might seem too complex or controversial... Sometimes I feel that with regards to Israel, the entire Jewish community never got off the Taglit bus. Jews are almost desperate to hold on to some sort of a naïve image of this country, its people and its institutions. This is most evident with the way they see the IDF. It’s not just that they don’t believe what the Palestinians are saying – they can’t even imagine the Israeli army doing bad things. The US army – yes; the IDF – never. More than ever, I wonder what role this naïve image of Israel – almost an abstract Israel, which has nothing to do with the actual Middle Eastern country – plays in the way Jews see themselves, and how are they going to look back on it ten or twenty years from now.

Coming Out as a Rabbi

There are times when rabbis might not be so willing to let others know they're a rabbi. Apparently that wasn't the case for Rabbi Geoff Mitelman, a Reform rabbi in Westchester, NY, when he was an audience member of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Geoff and I spent a couple of hours learning a piece of text from the Torah together this past November in the Clal offices in NYC as part of the Rabbis Without Borders fellowship. A few weeks later, he posted the following on our group's e-mail forum:

The reason I'm writing is because I thought you all might get a kick out of this -- my girlfriend and I went to the taping of The Daily Show last night. Jon Stewart is actually QUITE Jewish (and is pretty knowledgeable about Judaism), and he does a Q&A with the audience before each show. I (of course) had to see if I could bring out any of his latent Jewish-ness, so I told him I was a rabbi and asked him what his favorite Hanukkah memory was... It was very cool.

Here is the clip from the beginning of the show which aired later that night:

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Intro - Rabbi in the Audience (RabbiJason.com)
www.thedailyshow.com

Not all rabbis, however, would be so forthcoming about their profession (especially to a man about to broadcast to millions of people). In fact, Rabbi Mitelman's posting led to an interesting conversation about when to fess up about being a rabbi and when to keep the cards closer to the chest. One female Conservative rabbi married to a male Reform rabbi explained that they had also been to a taping of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart a week prior, but chose to not disclose their professions.

She wrote that there are times when she has "not shared that I was a rabbi in order to avoid the inevitable shock, surprise, and ensuing questions. Usually when I am traveling, on vacation, or otherwise outside of my "normal" world, I do not advertise the fact that I am a rabbi, and have often responded that I was a teacher or social worker when directly asked my profession. I am now wondering if I am doing myself and our profession a disservice by doing this. Would it be breaking down more borders and opening up new opportunities to share my profession?"

There are certainly times when it makes sense for rabbis not to broadcast what they do. This would be more difficult for the Catholic priest who's collar is a dead give-a-away. I know of rabbis who go grocery shopping many miles from their home so as to experience some privacy. There are also rabbis who wouldn't think of exercising at the local Jewish Community Center for fear of being bothered with work-related questions. Personally, I enjoy working out at the JCC and find that most people are quite respectful of the reason that I'm there (to break a sweat and not play "Ask the Rabbi").

For some rabbis, the setting might dictate whether they "out" themselves as a rabbi or not. Seated next to a fellow Jewish person on an airplane, for instance, if I say I'm a rabbi I could be in for a long flight listening to every reason why Hebrew School was a scarring experience for this individual. Why their childhood rabbi caused them to despise organized religion in general as an adult. Seated next to a non-Jewish individual on an airplane, I could explain that I'm a rabbi and then field endless questions about why Israel doesn't just make peace with her Arab neighbors already, or why some Haredi rabbi was indicted for tax fraud. That would be like a Unitarian minister having to defend Catholic priests for the child molestation scandal.

This is the reason why Rabbi Joel Meyers, former executive vice-president of the Rabbinical Assembly, admitted to his colleagues at a convention in 2007 that he often tells the person sitting next to him on the plane that he is either a college professor or a therapist.

Ultimately, however, I recognize that I am always a rabbi. There have been times when I'll tell someone that I am a rabbi and it leads to a wonderful and fulfilling experience. The opportunity to teach strangers (both Jews and non-Jews) often arises at the least likely times. I'm sure it's no different than my friend who's a pediatrician not wanting to volunteer her profession when she's on an airplane for fear that she'll have to give medical advice for every ailment that has ever afflicted the children of the woman seated next to her. But in the event of a child getting sick on the plane, I know she'd jump into action without a moment's hesitation.

Last month, I was on an airplane returning home from New York. A Jewish man sat down next me. (I know he was Jewish because as soon as he saw I was wearing a kippah, he immediately told me that he's Jewish and that he speaks a little Yiddish.) He spent the entire plane ride telling me about what he did for a living. And it was truly fascinating.

The man, Walter Arnold (pictured), is an extremely talented artist who works with stone. He's designed beautiful fireplaces, breezeways, fountains, and sculptures for some of the most breathtaking homes and churches in the country. Trained in Italy, Walter told me that his art graces the White House, Washington National Cathedral, and the Capitol. He pulled out his computer and showed me dozens of pictures of his work. It was breathtaking.

At the end of the flight, Walter handed me his business card and asked for mine in return. Looking at it, he exclaimed, "Wait, you didn't tell me you were a rabbi. I could have asked you so many questions." I explained to him that what he does for a living is much more interesting to me than what I do. I thanked him for the enjoyable conversation. And we said goodbye.

The Demise of the Conservative Movement

As a Conservative rabbi, a Jewish person raised in the Conservative Movement of Judaism, and one whose theology is well grounded in Conservative Judaism, I had absolutely no interest in the Conservative Movement's Biennial Convention that took place earlier this month in Philadelphia. What's more is that I didn't even hear many people (rabbis included) talking about this convention. At least not locally in Metro Detroit; a city which once boasted some of the largest and most thriving Conservative synagogues in the country. The lack of interest was... well, actually interesting. I couldn't even tell you one person from Detroit's Jewish community who flew to Philadelphia for this convention.

Yes, I read a few articles from the national Jewish publications and websites about "The Biennial," but there wasn't much coverage of the convention on Twitter compared with the Reform Movement's convention a couple week's earlier, which had several times the participants and dozens of tweets each hour.

I don't believe Conservative Judaism is dead. I just believe it's stuck. I don't blame Conservative Judaism as an ideology for this. Rather, I blame the movement. That is, I blame the institution. It has yet to prove that Conservative Judaism is meaningful in the 21st century to a new generation of Jews.

And now, as if anything could be less interesting than the Conservative Movement's Biennial Convention, a two-day scholarly conference is taking place in Jerusalem's Van Leer Institute entitled "Conservative Judaism: Halacha, Culture and Sociology." This academic conference plans to discuss the burning issues threatening to split the Conservative Movement, such as the ordination of homosexual and lesbian rabbis, the sharp drop in the number of young members and the challenge of intermarriage. Sounds like fun!

Perhaps, one person who gets it is my colleague Noah Zvi Farkas (right). In a Jewish Week op-ed, Rabbi Farkas lays out his own understanding of what ails the Conservative Movement. Titled "The Re-founding of Conservative Judaism," he writes:

As a young rabbi who believes in the idea of religious movements, I note that Conservative Judaism is a grass-roots coalition that has lost two of its primary organizing principles: one was that Conservative Judaism and Conservative synagogues serve the need for Eastern European Jewish immigrants to become Americanized while holding on to their religious roots.

The other is the recognition that the scholastic trend to study ancient and medieval Jewish texts scientifically, known as Wissenschaft des Judentums, has not yielded a sufficiently sacred orientation for Jewish life.

Jews in my generation, that is, Jews whose great-grandparents or grandparents came to this country looking for the promise of the American dream and needed a connection to what was familiar, are no longer motivated by the same sorts of organizing principles that our ancestors were. For generations Conservative synagogues thrived on the complicity that Jews will, more or less, seek out a synagogue when they move to a town, and that they will join that synagogue and continue to give to that synagogue because that is what Jews simply do.

Exactly! Times have changed. The Jewish community has changed. Conservative leaders have spent decades deciding whether it's kosher to ride to shul, whether a penis is a requirement for the rabbinate, and whether two men can commit to each other lovingly with the use of two glasses of wine, two gold rings, and an ancient Aramaic document transposed into a modern piece of artwork. While all this was being debated, the centrist Orthodox shuls grabbed the best and brightest in the Conservative Movement who didn't become rabbis while the Reform outreached to those the Conservatives refused to inreach.

I think Rabbi Farkas hits the mark when he suggests a community organizing approach to re-found Conservative Judaism as a meaningful denomination for the 21st century. It needs a re-branding and an institutional overhaul. But it also needs to cease doing what hasn't been working. And that includes these conventions and conferences that only prove that there is a growing majority out there who don't care about these conventions and conferences. Plus, they'll save a lot of money.

Private Jewish Tutoring

Last weekend at a wedding, I was approached by a lovely couple who were very excited to see me after many years. It took me a moment to recall they were Brian's parents, but when I did, my excitement matched theirs. Brian was a student in the first class of Hebrew School I ever taught. I got my start as a Jewish educator as a young 18-year-old college freshman in East Lansing, Michigan. I taught the same group of students for three years in a row; from fourth grade through sixth grade.

After Brian finished sixth grade, his parents hired me as a private tutor to continue teaching him Hebrew and to train him for his upcoming bar mitzvah. For a year, I visited Brian at his parent's home on a weekly basis where we went over his Torah portion, haftorah (selection from the Prophets), and worked on his bar mitzvah speech. Some thirteen years later, I still remember learning about the Nazirite Samson with Brian. I didn't merely teach him to recite his Torah reading and haftorah; rather, we studied the biblical text with the commentary so that he understood what he was chanting to the congregation.

Brian's parents shared with me how meaningful that experience had been for their son. As they walked away, I found myself feeling nostalgic about the one-on-one Jewish education I offered Brian, and also about the article I recently read in the New York Jewish Week about private Jewish tutoring.

The NY Jewish Week cover story explained something I quickly discovered upon moving to Manhattan for rabbinical school over a decade ago. Many families choose to hire private tutors in lieu of Hebrew School. Writer Julie Wiener explains:

As seemingly growing numbers of families in New York and other major metropolitan areas eschew Hebrew schools for the convenience and intimacy of private tutors, many in the organized Jewish world — particularly those active in synagogues — worry that tutoring's individualized approach, part of a larger trend in modern American culture, poses a threat not just to synagogues, but to the very ideals of Jewish community.

The only thing that surprised me about Wiener's article was that it took this long for the topic to make the headlines. At the Jewish Theological Seminary in the late 90's, I had quite a side-business with the various private tutoring jobs I amassed. There was an e-mail list sponsored by the Rabbinical School Student Organization (RSSO). Local Manhattan families would post blurbs about their need for a private tutor for their son or daughter who was too busy to attend Hebrew school at the temple or synagogue, had a learning disability that required an individualized approach, didn't care for the Hebrew School teacher, or didn't get along with the other kids in Hebrew School. In some cases, the parents didn't want to join a temple or synagogue, preferring a do-it-yourself approach instead. In other cases, they didn't want their child to commit to the several hours a week of Hebrew School that was required to become a bar or bat mitzvah because of extracurricular obligations like hockey, soccer, dance, theater, or other tutoring time.

The compensation was great for full-time graduate students in New York City. In most cases, I was paid $80/hour, but tutoring a group of students (i.e., three) was upwards of $125/hour. Many of the jobs were advertised on the e-mail list, but the best tutoring jobs were passed down from graduating rabbinical students to younger rabbinical students.

When my friend and next-door neighbor Mickey Stanger graduated from the Seminary, I inherited several of his students. There was the young boy with ADHD who I tutored weekly for four years. His parents didn't want to renew their membership at the synagogue and the boy's learning disability wasn't handled appropriately by the teachers. In the first couple years, I taught him Hebrew and basic information about Jewish holidays and customs. When he turned twelve, we began to prepare for his bar mitzvah -- an intimate Havdallah service that I created specifically for him (do-it-yourself Judaism).

Those four years created a wonderful relationship not only with the young boy, but also with his parents. He never would have learned as much in a structured classroom, but I was able to personalize the lessons to meet his learning needs. Of course, it could be argued that while this family got what they wanted -- a personalized bar mitzvah ceremony that perfectly fitted their son's needs -- they did not gain a closer relationship to a synagogue community or a rabbi as they would have with the traditional Hebrew School and bar mitzvah path.

There was also the group of three rowdy boys I tutored weekly around the kitchen table. They would have been thrown out of their Hebrew School classroom each week for their disruptive behavior, but I was able to reach them through various techniques that would have been impossible for a teacher in a classroom. I also tutored a young girl in Hebrew reading. Sitting in her parents' multi-million dollar brownstone, I became the family's rabbi often finding myself counseling the parents through their bitter divorce. While I usually found myself walking into vast, beautiful Upper East Side apartments to a team of nannies, maids, and other tutors, it was not just the wealthy who engaged tutors. Some families, as the NY Jewish Week article explains, are either allergic to shul membership or found it was more cost effective to forgo Hebrew School tuition for private tutoring.

JTS Professor Jack Wertheimer is quoted in the NY Jewish Week article. He "wonders how well private programs can socialize young Jews to feel part of a congregation. One of the great advantages of Jewish children being educated in schools is that they are exposed to different types of Jewish role models. They see the rabbi, they see their teachers, they see other adults engaged in Jewish living. The private route limits the exposure of young people."

In the article, Rabbi Laurie Phillips, director of education at Congregation Habonim, likens Jewish studies tutoring to private sports lessons. "You can learn to play soccer with a tutor, but it’s a different experience if you’re learning one-on-one versus being part of a soccer team. You'll know how to play, but won’t know how to be part of a team." I think that's a fair assessment when it comes to tutoring in place of Hebrew School. Unfortunately, because of time constraints there aren't many families who are supplementing Hebrew School with tutors. It's usually an all-or-nothing proposition.

Along with the argument that these children are missing out on the community experience when they are only privately tutored, there is also the case of synagogue membership hurting. Many families join congregations so that their children can attend Hebrew School and become bar or bat mitzvah. When Jewish families in the metropolitan areas opt for private tutoring instead of Hebrew School, it also means they're going the do-it-yourself Judaism route as well and forsaking synagogue membership. That clearly hurts the synagogues.

Nevertheless, it appears that the private Jewish tutoring business is thriving. Some educators have incorporated and run large tutoring businesses for groups and individuals who opt out of the Hebrew School track. Rabbi Reuben Modek's website for his Hebrew Learning Circles program offers private bar and bat mitzvah preparation, as well as cultural and religious education. As if that alone won't infuriate local pulpit rabbis, Modek also advertises that he'll officiate at life-cycle events taking full advantage of the craving for do-it-yourself Judaism.

It's only a matter of time before this coastal and big city trend of private tutoring for those who opt out of Hebrew School makes its way to the "heartland" Jewish communities. Already, in the Metro Detroit area, one former synagogue bar/bat mitzvah tutor has begun advertising in the Detroit Jewish News that he can be hired for private tutoring for those not wishing to attend Hebrew School. Yes, this hurts synagogues, but ultimately let's hope it will make Hebrew Schools improve. Competition often does just that.

Basterds at the Seminary

JTA writer Ami Eden began his blog post about the showing of Quentin Tarantino's "Inglourious Basterds" at the Jewish Theological Seminary as follows:

There are many wonderful things to say about the Jewish Theological Seminary, but let's face it -- it's not exactly where all the hipsters meet. Honestly, how many times do you find yourself saying: I'm going to a really cool event at JTS tonight.

Important. Interesting. I'll even give you provocative (sometimes). But, cool?

Well, to be fair, I guess I also wouldn't characterize JTS as the hippest place in Manhattan. Sure, the six years I spent there in rabbinical school were some of the best and most exciting years of my life, but "cool" programs were not the Seminary's forte. Recently, times have been tough on JTS with harsh financial woes, budget cuts, and the downsizing of its faculty and staff. They have even decided to close the Seminary on Fridays to save money. I do give Arnie Eisen, the new chancellor, a lot of credit for trying to turn things around and improve the image of JTS. Although, some might do a double-take at the recent programs the Seminary has hosted.

First, there was the event a couple months ago hosted by Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Model Esti Ginzburg, and sponsored by Birthright NEXT and the Council of Young Jewish Presidents. The party for young Jewish New Yorkers was described as "an evening of fashion and passion." However, having JTS (the academic center of Conservative Judaism) sponsor a party hosted by a bikini model didn't sit well with many of my female rabbinic colleagues.

Rabbi Joanna Samuels wrote in the Forward, "An institution that trains clergy should probably stay away from events fronted by swimsuit models. People who learn, teach, and advocate for the highest values of our tradition are not going to increase Judaism's appeal - or their own - through forcing an association with low-brow celebrity culture. The religious leaders who chase after celebrities in the name of kiruv -lo and behold! -often turn out to be using their Torah-for-the-masses public face as a screen for their own narcissism or social climbing."

Well, I'm not sure the event demanded that level of criticism, but I too found it odd that JTS would host such an event. Hopefully, it achieved its mission of getting hundreds of professional, active, vibrant, young Jews to a party in which they could network (network, by the way, means date and then get married whereby they will produce Jewish offspring to repopulate the Jewish community).

The next event the Seminary produced could also be described as cool and controversial, although in a different way. When I received an e-mail publicizing the screening of Quentin Tarantino's film Inglourious Basterds, I immediately recognized it as the Seminary trying something new and different. When I read that Tarantino himself would attend the event, I booked a flight to NYC. I didn't want to pass up a chance to watch a Tarantino film with Tarantino. I've been a big fan of the filmmaker's for years, and Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, and the Kill Bill movies are among my favorites.

So, how does a Jewish academic institution like JTS come to host a screening and panel discussion of this violent, controversial, and profanity-laden film? Here's the story:

Rabbi Jack Moline, a Conservative rabbi in Alexandria, Virginia did what many rabbis (myself included) did on Yom Kippur this past Fall. He delivered a sermon based on the Holocaust film everyone was talking about -- Inglourious Basterds. Moline tells his congregation that this is, in some twisted way, a feel good Holocaust movie for us Jews. He explains that it is cathartic to view the film, in which the Nazis die horrific deaths, as a revenge fantasy. His sentiments were not much different than the sentiments of many rabbis, including Rabbi Irwin Kula. In his articulate review of the film on the Huffington Post, Kula concluded, "Thank you, Quentin Tarantino. You have reminded us, whether you intended to or not, that we are never as powerful as our greatest fantasies and never as powerless as our worst nightmares."

So, Jack Moline's sermon makes its way to Lawrence Bender, the producer of the film. Bender also reads Irwin Kula's review on the Web. He reports about both of them to Quentin Tarantino, who is interested in what rabbis think about the film. Rabbi Marc Wolf, vice-chancellor of JTS, suggests to Chancellor Arnie Eisen that the Seminary show the film and host a panel discussion including Lawrence Bender. Some calls were made, some Jewish connections to Hollywood utilized, and that's how a Hollywood producer came to find his way to 3080 Broadway to sit on a panel moderated by the Seminary's chancellor, and including Rabbi Jack Moline and Rabbi Amy Kalmanofsky (a biblical scholar and self-proclaimed lover of gory films).

Following the 2 1/2 hour film, shown in Feinberg Auditorium on a large, rented HD screen with dynamic stereo sound, Bender announced to the dismay of the audience that Mr. Tarantino would not be attending due to a sore throat. While I was certainly disappointed that I traveled to NYC to see and hear Tarantino, the panel discussion (titled: "Jewish Persecution and the Fantasy of Revenge") was very interesting nevertheless. It began with Chancellor Eisen reading from Irwin Kula's impressions of the film (the crowd was obviously taken aback when Eisen didn't censor himself in reading Kula's words which included a profanity or two). Kalmanofsky then gave an exciting perspective on why she loved the film so much and had no problem with the violence or the revenge cast upon the Nazis. Moline said much of what he had spoken in his Kol Nidrei address, and explained that he returned to the pulpit the next morning on Yom Kippur day to give a different take on Holocaust memory and the respect deserved by the victims. All agreed that after so many Holocaust films had been produced, this one offers a much different take. And one that was a breath of fresh air.

Lawrence Bender spoke about traveling to Israel and Munich with Tarantino to show the film to audiences there. Everyone laughed when he recounted the story of his sitting down to lunch with the actor who played Hitler. The actor was in full makeup and sat alone during the lunch break. Bender recalled that he sort of felt badly for the guy and joined him. Perhaps, the highlight of the panel discussion was Lawrence Bender's own father, who sat in the audience behind me and kept offering his own assessment of the film's message (see video clip below).

All in all, it was a much different JTS-sponsored program than I remember attending as a student at the Seminary. Things have certainly changed at JTS and I'm glad the administration is trying new things. Chatting with Marc Wolf earlier that day, he dropped a hint about what could be his next big production at JTS when he asked if I'd seen the Coen Brother's new film "A Serious Man." "Wouldn't it be interesting to hear them talk about that film here?" he asked.

Here's a video clip of Lawrence Bender and Arnie Eisen talking about Inglourious Basterds:

White House Comedian Ari Teman Gets a Laugh Out of Obama

Ari Teman is having a great year. First, the Jewish comedian and founder of Jcorps wins the highly competitive Jewish Community Hero award. Next, he gets invited to the White House Hanukkah party. I'm pretty sure it was a legit invite and that he didn't just crash an official White House party like Tareq and Michaele Salahi did last month.

Seth Galena, one-half of the Bangitout.com duo, reported on Facebook about Ari Teman's White House experience. Apparently, he didn't just shake the president's hand in the receiving line, but actually used the time to tell Barack Obama a joke. The party was a who's-who of Jewish D.C. including an assortment of Jewish leaders from across the nation.

Here's the apparent conversation between Ari Teman and the 44th president of the U.S.:

Ari: Mr. President, I'm a comedian from New York --
Obama: Are you funny?
Ari : I tell jokes about you on stage every night, can I tell you one?
Obama: Sure.
Ari: I'll say "Obama" instead of "Mr. President."
Obama: Sure.
Ari: So, they're calling Obama a Nazi --
Obama: Oh yeah (nodding)
Ari: Which I think is fantastic... because if you thought the Presidency was a tough job for a black guy to get!
[Obama starts cracking up.]
Ari: ...Nazi... we have overcome! Mr. President, you have broken down color barriers.
[Obama, still laughing, shakes Teman's hand again and gives him a hug]
Obama: That's great!!

Impetus for Max Weinberg's Mormon Song

When Tablet Magazine published the article about Senator Orrin Hatch's Hanukkah song, Rabbi Jason Herman, who is part of Clal's Rabbis Without Borders fellowship with me, was quick to send the link to the article over our e-mail discussion list. Little did I know at the time, another RWB fellow, Rabbi Alana Suskin, was already thinking of a way to reciprocate Senator Hatch for his holiday song for the Jewish people.

According to the JTA, "Blogger Larry Yudelson posted a query to his fellow Jewschool.com contributors wondering if 'there are any special Mormon holidays for which we can return the favor?'"

That's when Alana, who is also Jewschool's managing editor, suggested a holiday song for the Mormons. The problems was she couldn't think of any special Mormon celebrations. Long story short, Rob Kutner (right) got involved. Rob used to write for The Daily Show and I've blogged about his hilarious Purim shpiels in the past on this blog. He now writes for the Tonight Show and thought this was a funny idea. So Kutner wrote the Mormon song that Tonight Show band leader Max Weinberg sings to "I Have a Little Dreidel."

After the bit aired on the Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, Kutner wrote on Jewschool.com: "It's definitely an interesting moment when Jewish culture is mainstream enough to provide a window on another minority religion's relative marginalization."

And that's the story of how the Jewish bandleader Max Weinberg came to serenade the Mormon senator Orrin Hatch on the Tonight Show.

Conservative Rabbis Must Exercise

Almost six years ago, when I became a Conservative rabbi, I knew there were certain expectations placed on me by my new professional organization, the International Rabbinical Assembly of Conservative Judaism (the RA). Specifically, they expected that I would follow the few rules they had or face expulsion from the Assembly. These rules were:

1. Not officiating at a commitment ceremony or wedding between two members of the same sex;
2. Not recognizing patrilineal descent (Jewish lineage from the father instead of the mother);
3. Not officiating at an interfaith wedding;
4. Not officiating at a wedding in which a divorced bride didn't have a Jewish bill of divorce (get) from her ex-husband, or in which a divorced groom hadn't given his ex-wife a get.

Well, with the acceptance of a religious ruling allowing Conservative rabbis to officiate at same-sex commitment ceremonies three years ago, it looks like #1 is no longer on the books.

Further, studies have shown that some 80% of Conservative Jews recognize people as Jewish who are the offspring of Jewish dads, but not Jewish moms (just as the Reform movement has officially done since 1983). My sense is that this will be the next significant change in Conservative Judaism, so rule #2 can't be far from being passé too.

Privately, I've heard there are Conservative rabbis officiating at interfaith weddings under the RA's radar screen. However, from my vantage point, most rabbis still firmly hold by rules #3 and #4 above.

The one RA rule I hadn't foreseen when I became a rabbi is that I must agree to stay in good shape and maintain a healthy diet. So, I was surprised to get an e-mail earlier this week from RA executive vice-president Rabbi Julie Schonfeld and two marathon-running rabbinic colleagues telling me to get to the gym pronto. Although, I must say that I do agree with the Shalem Campaign, urging us rabbis to make fitness a part of our daily lives and to eat healthy. The campaign, which is based on the President's Fitness Challenge, was picked up by the JTA in an article titled "Eat right and exercise, Conservative rabbis told."

At least now when I'm spotted at the gym in the middle of a workday, I can just explain that I'm following orders and trying to be a good rabbi.

Kosher Baskin Robbins

In time for Hanukkah, a few weeks ago my kosher certification initiative (Kosher Michigan) officially certified as kosher the new Baskin Robbins ice cream store in my hometown of West Bloomfield, Michigan. To show appreciation for becoming kosher, the store's owner (Stella Stojanovic) created these new Hanukkah ice cream cup


Stella's former Baskin Robbins location in West Bloomfield was about a mile from the home in which I grew up. Coincidentally, it was in the same strip mall as Marty's Pizza, where the late Marty Herman started making his famous Marty's Cookies thirty years ago. Those cookies are now certified kosher by Kosher Michigan too.

Max Weinberg's Mormon Tribute

Last week, I wrote about the Hanukkah song that Senator Orrin Hatch wrote for the Jewish people. Well, apparently, Max Weinberg (of the E Street Band and the Tonight Show) was so taken by Orrin Hatch's generosity that he wanted to reciprocate the favor.

On last night's Tonight Show with Conan O'Brien, the show's only Jew, Max Weinberg, sang his Mormon tribute to the senior senator from Utah (with help from Conan and Andy Richter). The song is sung to the tune of "Dreydel Dreydel." Here's the video clip: