From Generation to Generation...

I receive a weekly newsletter from American Public Media called, "The Writer's Almanac." Garrison Keillor, of "Prairie Home Companion" fame, edits selections of poetry, as well as stories about authors and poets. Last night, just a few hours of the closing "Ne'ilah" service of Yom Kippur, I read the following poem, by Leonard Nathan. It called to mind a famous Hasidic story, which I've transcribed below. I think both the poem and the story have something to say about the state of our relationship with Jewish tradition. Read them. Let me know what you think. In your estimation, how do the poem and the story relate to our current situation? Does one of them more closely describe where we are today?


Truth


by Leonard Nathan, z”l


As children in the schoolroom game


whisper from one end of the class to the other

and garble the message they pass on or change it


beyond recognition, so we


pass on the truth of our kind.




My father heard it from his, something


vaguely involving God, and his father


heard it from his, and so on back


to Abraham, and so father


passed it on to me, but God had dropped out.




And so my son heard it, a wisdom


found inside a Chinese fortune cookie:


"Be good and hope," which he will pass on


to his son, but maybe with good


missing or hope, maybe with love added.



Though love was never meant to mean so much.


"Truth" by Leonard Nathan from The Potato Eaters. © Orchises Press, 1999.





When the founder of Hasidic Judaism, the great Rabbi Israel Shem Tov, saw misfortune threatening the Jews, it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and the misfortune averted. Later, when his disciple, the celebrated Maggid of Mezritch, had occasion for the same reason to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say, "Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayer." Again the miracle would be accomplished.
Still later, Rabbi Moshe-leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say, "I do not know how to light the fire. I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient." It was sufficient, and the miracle was accomplished.
Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rizhin to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God, "I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer and I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story, and this must be sufficient."
And it was sufficient. For God made man because He loves stories.

From Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim

A Greener Yid: The Shofar as Environmental Call to Action

I am a technophile, a first adopter, and a lover of all things “gadgety.” From my first Palm Pilot, to my current Blackberry, I love ‘em all.

Imagine my surprise, then, to read, in JTA (the Jewish Telegraphic Agency), that Judaism brought to the world the first wireless technology. And not only that; the Shofar, the article points out, is among the “greenest” technologies ever.

JTA, in "Seeing Green in the Shofar and its Call to Action," offers:

Is green the theme of the shofar this Rosh Hashanah season? In a year of sustainability and carbon footprints, high gas and hybrids, the shofar is the simplest, most eco-friendly method of reaching the Jewish community with a vital message.

The shofar, if you pause to think about it, is a rhapsody in green. Lightweight and easily transportable, it sports no moving parts -- the shofar blower, or ba’al tekiah’s, own mouth becomes the mouthpiece. Yet it's dependable enough to deliver the complex musical message required to begin a new Jewish year.

A totally natural product, its availability is a byproduct of an already ongoing ancient enterprise -- sheep herding.

Powered by one human, and empowered by a congregation, the shofar requires no batteries, power cord or transformer. When we hear it, we are the ones who become transformed.

Back to the Future...

In the moments before their b’nei mitzvah, long time Sinai congregant Laura Waisbren told her children: “There are just a few times in life you get to have your entire world assembled before you for a celebration.” At the whirlwind of Michael and Sophie’s becoming b’nei mitzvah yesterday begins to subside, I now see just how wise those words truly are.

On Sunday, my mother shared with me a synagogue bulletin article I had written just after I celebrated becoming bar mitzvah. Reading my own pre-adolescent words, I was struck by how eerily they captured sentiments I hold dear even today.

Yet, those early thoughts challenged my own sense of life-narrative. When people ask when I decided to become a rabbi, the story usually begins at sixteen, when I spent half a year in Israel as a high school exchange student. In light of this now uncovered article I wrote at thirteen, it may well be time to reexamine that assumption! At the risk of self-plagiarizing, permit me to share it with you:


“BETTER THAN CHICKEN SOUP - by David Cohen

Most people think they would probably enjoy the rabbi's job. The fact is that there is a lot more to being a rabbi than conducting services, socializing at the Oneg Shabbat, being a leader, and attending a variety of meetings. There is a lot more.

A few weeks ago Debra Fields (ed. The rabbi’s daughter) and I had the opportunity of observing one of the less joyous tasks of a Rabbi. The Junior Youth Group had made New Year's greetings for the hospital patients, and the two of us went with Rabbi Fields and Rabbi Rosenberg to distribute them.

When we arrived at Middlesex Hospital, I was scared. Not that anything was to go wrong, but I did not know what to expect. The first room we came to, I said to myself - "Well, here goes." We stepped in and the Rabbi introduced me and then himself. He told the patient that we were from Anshe Emeth (Synagogue) and that I was a representative of the Junior Youth Group. Suddenly, it was time for my big line. I said "Happy New Year" and that I hoped she was feeling better. She thanked me and we left. Gee, this was easier than I thought! Many of the patients were very appreciative of the time and effort that went into the greetings cards we handed out. One man was even too touched to speak. Another elderly woman said "they were more beautiful than a Rembrandt" and then she added "and I have seen a Rembrandt." The Rabbi later told me it was not the quality of the artwork that made her say that.

Throughout the trip I felt that I had never before known what the Rabbi does during the week. Many patients had said that the only person besides their families to visit them was their spiritual leader.

On leaving each room I realized how good it felt doing things for other people. Even at the end, however, I felt an uneasiness -going into someone's hospital room. At one point, for instance, we were in a man's room and I had said something and he just stared at me. The Rabbi sensed something was wrong and continued the conversation. What a lifesaver! I was about to collapse right on the spot.

I felt very good about the whole trip after it was over. I was very proud of myself and the projected effort made by our Temple to perform Mitzvoth.

While many of the things we do are important, nothing compares to getting out to accommodate the needy. I think all the members of our Youth Group are worth their weight in Jerusalem stone when they work to make something for the needy or disabled. Not only that, but their cards were the best medical treatment since chicken soup!

About a week later, I unexpectedly had the opportunity to be on the receiving end of this same mitzvah. Lady luck had struck again, and guess who became a patient in the hospital - Me! How the tables have turned. I could now understand the feeling of being alone in a hospital, although not for long. Like the nice guy the rabbi is, he found out and came right over to visit me. Nevertheless, while everyone is very nice, a patient can't help being a little scared, for it can pretty lonely, especially at three in the morning. I was lucky, for during the day I had lots of visitors. Even though my medicines made me tired, I was still very happy to have them, for I remembered that many of the elderly had no visitors at all and were really lonely.

I hope the Junior Youth Group will be thoughtful enough to deliver some of their "Rembrandts" again. They are cheaper than medicine, and make the patients feel so good!

(Synagogue Bulletin editor's note: 13 year-old David Cohen lives in East Brunswick, and has just celebrated his Bar Mitzvah. We predict he will not only be a great Rembrandt, but a Sholem Aleichem as well!). “

Well, history reveals that the Rembrandt prediction was way off base, but I like still tell stories, some even by Yiddish author Sholem Aleichem.

Should my seventh grade essay inspire you to consider doing a mitzvah, our Chesed Committee arranges for congregants to visit other homebound congregants. Please consider doing the mitzvah of “Bikur Cholim”, which though it’s often translated as “Visiting the Sick”, it also means spending time with those who are lonely and could use some human companionship. It would make a tremendous difference for someone in our community.

Julie joins me in hoping that 5759 is a wonderful year for you and yours,

Rabbi David B. Cohen

( David B. Cohen, age eleven, won a set of World Book encyclopedias, from the syndicated columnist, "Ask Andy.")

As many of you know, I returned last night from 10 days in Downeast, Maine, Mt. Desert Island, Acadia National Park, etc. It’s a place so beautiful my dad was moved to say, on our first visit 30 years ago: “Moses must have made a wrong turn somewhere in the desert!”

Alas, the natural beauty of fir trees, salt air, and craggy, rocky mountains is not always accompanied by sunny weather. There’s always some misty days. This year there were many, most of our vacation, in fact. Everyone was talking about global warming and its affects, given the unusual nature of the storms with lightning and thunder and torrential downpours, sort of what we had here a few weeks ago.

While out for a walk one day – reminded of a similarly cloudy stormy day in the January of 1996. I was in Jordan on top of Mt. Nebo, reading the last words of the last of the five books of Moses – Devarim, that describe the view he had the day before he died. As consolation for not getting to go into the land, God showed him the land from the finger of the Galilee in the north, to the Negev desert in the south, from the great sea, the Mediterranean, to the mountains on which he stood. It was breathtaking and quite moving, to, as the spiritual puts it: stand on the rock where Moses stood.

We begin this Shabbat the yearly reading of Devarim, or, as its known in Greek and English,
Deuteronomy. The name comes from two greek words, Deutero, which means “second” and “nomos”, which means law. Hence, Deuteronomy is the second telling of what happened during the forty years in the desert, as remembered by Moses. In a way, it’s Moses’s farewell speech, given not to those he left Egypt with but to their children who are about to cross the Jordan into the promised land.

Interestingly, when Moses tells them of what their parents had done for forty years in the desert, Moses doesn’t say what THEY did, but says: what YOU did. He drums into the second generation the experience of the first, making it their own, hoping that they will assimilate it and thus be able to avoid the pitfalls and mistakes made by their parents. More radically still, the message is pitched even to us living in the twenty first century; we are the “you” Moses included that day. We too stand at a juncture, at the banks of a river whose far shore holds incalculable challenges and blessings, if we will only be wise enough to discern which is which.

At this time of the year, the link between Moses’s last speech and who each of us is here today finds full expression in the cycle of ten Haftarah readings preceding the High Holy Days. This Shabbat is the last of three Shabbatot preceding the ninth day of Av, tisha b’av, the day we recall the destruction of the first and second temple. These three weeks of Torah and Haftarot preceding the ninth of Av are filled with words of reproof, as Moses warns and condemns the Israelites, and the prophets follow suit. After tisha ‘ b’av, however, the tone changes entirely. Verses of consolation, Nechemta, flow to the people, to soothe them and remind them that no matter how bad things had gotten, better time would soon be at hand.

This week’s Haftarah is taken from the Book of Isaiah, and it’s theme is so powerful the entire Shabbat is named in its honor. Shabbat Hazon, the Sabbath of vision.

And what is the vision we speak of? To answer, let’s transport ourselves back two hundred years ago, to the back of the classroom of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev, who lived in late eighteenth century Eastern Europe. He begins his lecture asserting that Shabbat Hazon is so named because on this Shabbat, the Shabbat immediately preceding Tisha B’Av, every Jewish person is afforded a vision of the third Temple, rebuilt to the glory of its predecessors.

Permit me to share a parable, says the rabbi, in order to illustrate what I mean.

Once, there was a king who had a garment made for his son. When the son received the garment he wore it out in no time, climbing, running, jumping and sliding in the dirt in the stables. The King preceded to make his son a second garment, but this one, too, soon was soiled and unusable. The King made a third garment, but this one he kept and didn’t give to his son. He held it up and said: when you are ready, you will receive the garment.

Reb Levi Yitzhak finished the story, inhaled briskly, and asked: what do I mean by this story?

A student in the front of the study hall quickly rose to his feet. Clearly, he said, the garments stand for the destroyed temples. And the third withheld garment for the third yet to be rebuilt temple you say we can have a vision of today. But I have a question for you: why does the parable use a garment as a metaphor for the Temple? Shouldn’t it have been something else? I mean, a garment doesn’t last forever; it frays and over time falls apart. The Temple, but for our forebears’ backsliding, would have lasted forever. Why not compare the Temple to an object made of metal or stone, something enduring and indestructible?


Reb Levi Yitzhak waited a few moments and looked out to the students. Does anyone have a response? It’s a reasonable question. Why is the parable about a gift of a garment rather than of metal or stone?

Toward the back of the room, a student lifted his hand slowly. “Yes, it’s true that a garment is transient, much moreso than a building. But the point may not be about the building as a structure, but about the Temple as something more.

In other words, think about a garment. Little by little, it takes on the character of the person who wears it. The problem with the king’s son was that he didn’t realize how his behavior would ruin the garment and make it entirely ineffective. So too the Israelites didn’t realize that their behavior would sully the Holy temple, making it unfit as a place to honor God. Only once the people saw the connection between their behavior and the temple would God be willing to rebuild a third temple.

…A Sabbath parable in the shadow of Tisha b’Av, the day we remember our cultures most articulate expression of its love for God, the Temples, and how our own misdeeds brought them to dust. A message for us corporately to be sure, but also for us as individual, solitary human beings who yearn for the capacity to change ourselves to more fully embody who we want to be and should be. As the hope of a rebuilt temple endures among some of our people, may the new year enable us to realize the promise each of us holds for repentance, redemption and growth.

Shabbat Shalom.

Dear Bloggees:
This op-ed was written last March, but still speaks powerfully to the situation in Gaza. As Syria uses Iranian money to buy the most sophisticated Russian arms, and Iran stands ready to, at the very least, back its proxies in the region, Hezb'Allah and Hamas, Yoffie's comments' relevance only increases.
David Cohen -

Preparing U.S. Jews For Assault On Gaza

Reform leader argues that Israel will soon be forced to drop its ‘restraint’ policy.

by Eric H. Yoffie
Special To The Jewish Week

A few weeks ago, I sat with a Jewish delegation that met with some important Protestant leaders here in the United States. The conversation quickly turned to events in Gaza. In a perfunctory sentence or two, our Protestant colleagues said that of course they condemned the rocket fire directed at Israeli cities, but in their view the real problem was the suffering of the Palestinian population in Gaza and the wildly disproportionate nature of Israel’s response to Palestinians attacks.

Deeply pained and angry, I replied: You are absolutely right. Israel’s response has been wildly disproportionate because it has been far more restrained than what would be expected from any other civilized, democratic government.

Did they understand that since 2001, more than 7,000 rockets had been fired from Gaza at civilian targets in Israel? Did they realize that a “proportionate” response would involve 7,000 Israeli rockets fired at civilians in Gaza? Did they appreciate that the relatively small number of civilian casualties in Israel resulted not from the humanitarian intentions of Hamas but from the crudeness of their weapons, and that those weapons were now improving? Did they know that the traumatized children of Sderot lived in constant fear? On what basis, I asked, did they expect Israel to tolerate these attacks?

And what would their congregants be saying if their churches in Michigan had been subjected to seven years of hostile fire from across the Canadian border? Would church leaders be calling for “restraint” from the American government in these circumstances? And did they really expect that any American president would show such restraint?

What followed, of course, was the suggestion that the “occupation” was responsible for the rocket fire. I replied: Excuse me, but Prime Minister Sharon pulled out of every inch of Gaza in 2005, and his successor was elected on a platform calling for unilateral withdrawal from most of the remaining territories. And yet there has not been a single day of quiet following that withdrawal. Indeed, rocket strikes significantly increased after it was completed.

Yes, I assured them, I shared their concern for Palestinian suffering in Gaza. But the simple fact is that if terror and rocket fire were to come to an end in Gaza, the suffering of her people would end as well.

There was nothing surprising in these exchanges, but they reminded me of how much American Jews have yet to do to educate their fellow citizens about Israel’s current plight.

And there is some urgency in this task because I have little doubt that Israel’s restraint will soon come to an end.

During my recent visit to Jerusalem, I met with the prime minister and more than a dozen Knesset members from across the political spectrum. Virtually all of Israel’s political leaders are reluctant to escalate the military conflict with Hamas; they fear the uncertain results of such an escalation, as well as heavy casualties on both sides. Nonetheless, from most of those to whom I spoke, what I heard was that there would soon be no alternative to a more aggressive military posture.

The reason for this is simply that the attacks on Sderot threaten Israel’s very existence.

Once again, most of the world has found a way to take an utterly intolerable situation — nearly daily attacks on Israeli civilian centers — and turn it into something that is both tolerated and even routine. And as the accuracy of the rockets increases along with the Iranian role in supplying Hamas forces, the circle of cities under attack has begun to expand.

It is only a matter of time before Hamas cells in the West Bank begin firing rockets as well.

The result is that it is now possible to imagine a scenario under which Israel, without ever losing a war, would cease to be a viable state.

As a result, there is a strong likelihood that in the months ahead, Israel will move against Hamas forces in Gaza. With or without an invasion, her army will likely target all of Hamas’ military installations, institutions and leaders. Since for years Hamas fighters have hidden themselves in civilian centers such as schools and hospitals, Palestinian civilian casualties are certain to grow. But Israel will almost surely decide that it can no longer protect Palestinian civilians at the cost of sacrificing the well being of her own.

This is not a welcome scenario. It would be preferable by far if international diplomacy could arrange a ceasefire that would end the rocket fire without allowing Hamas to build up her forces for future attacks. But chances for such a diplomatic resolution are small, and Israel must prepare for the worst.

Israel must also continue to support American diplomatic efforts to advance what is left of the peace process. President Bush hopes for a diplomatic breakthrough this calendar year, and while he is unlikely to succeed, he has earned, by word and deed, the trust of Israel and the American Jewish community. Surely, as he pursues this diplomatic course, he is entitled to the goodwill and cooperation of Israel’s government.

In that regard, we should keep in mind that an Israeli attack on Gaza is certain to unleash a barrage of international criticism. American support will be essential if Israel’s military is to have the time it needs to complete its mission. For that reason, current tension between Israel and the American government over Israel’s settlement policy is a potential disaster.

An unpopular president who is being asked to take the heat for support of an unpopular Israeli military operation is entitled to some consideration from Israel’s leaders. Whatever the differences, Israel needs to get its settlement policies in line with American expectations and to do so now.

With all this said, the responsibilities of American Jews are clear. A centrist Israeli government has done everything within its power to escape a military confrontation.

Nonetheless, confronted by challenges to its sovereignty, by expanding attacks on its civilian population, and by the unrelenting hatred of an anti-Semitic, religiously fanatic regime, it is moving toward the military action in Gaza that it had desperately hoped to avoid.

Let us remember, then, that the Jewish state came into being for just such a time as this, when Jewish lives are in danger and no one but a Jewish army will come to their rescue. And let us remember too that our task now is to support Israel in her time of need, to make her case to our fellow citizens, and to do all that we can to rally the Jewish people and good people everywhere to her side.

Rabbi Yoffie is president of the Union for Reform Judaism.

Beliefnet's "Top 10 Spiritual Excercises"

A Spiritual practice is like any other discipline. It takes dedication, hard work, and repetition.

Here is number one! Let us know if ou try to adopt any of these.


1.) I ________, therefore I am.

French philosopher Rene Descartes wrote, "I think, therefore I am." But, what if thinking isn't the reason for your existence?

What word or phrase might you substitute for "I think"?

Here are a few ideas:

* I complain, therefore I am.
* I have stuff, therefore I am.
* I improve on things, therefore I am.
* My parents procreated, therefore I am.
* I create, therefore I am.
* God loves me, therefore I am.

Every version gives a very different perspective on life. Meditate on what you would put in the blank and see what you discover.


2. Parkinson's Law (named after 20th Century British historian Cyril Northcote Parkinson) states, "work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion." That's just the way it is.

Paradoxically for adults, it takes work and planning in order to successfully rest. Can you spend five minutes today not doing? How about 10 minutes? Or a half hour?

Thinking About Gaza
By Eric H. Yoffie

A few weeks ago, I sat with a Jewish delegation that met with some important Protestant leaders here in the United States. The conversation quickly turned to events in Gaza. In a perfunctory sentence or two, our Protestant colleagues said that of course they condemned the rocket fire directed at Israeli cities, but in their view the real problem was the suffering of the Palestinian population in Gaza and the wildly disproportionate nature of Israel’s response to Palestinians attacks.

Deeply pained and angry, what I said was this: You are absolutely right. Israel’s response has been wildly disproportionate because it has been far more restrained than what would be expected from any other civilized, democratic government.

Did they understand that since 2001, more than 7000 rockets had been fired from Gaza at civilian targets in Israel? Did they realize that a “proportionate” response would involve 7000 Israeli rockets fired at civilians in Gaza? Did they appreciate that the relatively small number of civilian casualties in Israel resulted not from the humanitarian intentions of Hamas but from the crudeness of their weapons, and that those weapons were now improving? Did they know that the traumatized children of Sderot lived in constant fear? On what basis, I asked, did they expect Israel to tolerate these attacks? And what would their congregants be saying if their churches in Michigan had been subjected to 7 years of hostile fire from across the Canadian border? Would church leaders be calling for “restraint” from the American government in these circumstances? And did they really expect that any American president would show such restraint?

What followed, of course, was the suggestion that the “occupation” was responsible for the rocket fire. I replied: Excuse me, but Prime Minister Sharon pulled out of every inch of Gaza in 2005, and his successor was elected on a platform calling for unilateral withdrawal from most of the remaining territories. And yet there has not been a single day of quiet following that withdrawal. Indeed, rocket strikes significantly increased after it was completed.

Yes, I assured them, I shared their concern for Palestinian suffering in Gaza. But the simple fact is that if terror and rocket fire were to come to an end in Gaza, the suffering of her people would end as well.

There was nothing surprising in these exchanges, but they reminded me of how much North American Jews have yet to do to educate their fellow citizens about Israel’s current plight. And there is some urgency in this task because I have little doubt that Israel’s restraint will soon come to end.

During my recent visit to Jerusalem, I met with Israel’s Prime Minister and more than a dozen Knesset members from across the political spectrum. Virtually all of Israel’s political leaders are reluctant to escalate the military conflict with Hamas; they fear the uncertain results of such an escalation, as well as heavy casualties on both sides. Nonetheless, from most of those to whom I spoke, what I heard was that there would soon be no alternative to a more aggressive military posture.

The reason for this is simply that the attacks on Sderot threaten Israel’s very existence. Once again, most of the world has found a way to take an utterly intolerable situation – nearly daily attacks on Israeli civilian centers – and turn it into something that is both tolerated and even routine. And as the accuracy of the rockets increases along with the Iranian role in supplying Hamas forces, the circle of cities under attack has begun to expand. It is only a matter of time before Hamas cells in the West Bank begin firing rockets as well. The result is that it is now possible to imagine a scenario under which Israel would cease to be a viable state without ever losing a war.

As a result, there is a strong likelihood that in the months ahead, Israel will move against Hamas forces in Gaza. With or without an invasion, her army will likely target all of Hamas’ military installations, institutions and leaders. Since for years Hamas fighters have hidden themselves in civilian centers such as schools and hospitals, Palestinian civilian casualties are certain to grow. But Israel will almost surely decide that it can no longer protect Palestinian civilians at the cost of sacrificing the wellbeing of her own.

This is not a welcome scenario. It would be preferable by far if international diplomacy could arrange a ceasefire that would end the rocket fire without allowing Hamas to build up her forces for future attacks. But chances for such a diplomatic resolution are small, and Israel must prepare for the worst.

Of course, if war does come, Israel will not get a free pass. Targeted military operations that tragically result in civilian deaths are one thing. But indiscriminate artillery barrages in civilian areas – which some Israeli ministers have called for – are another matter. Israel has always resisted pressure to resort to such tactics, and it must continue to do so now.

And Israel must also continue to support American diplomatic efforts to advance what is left of the peace process. President Bush hopes for a diplomatic breakthrough this calendar year, and while he is unlikely to succeed, when it comes to matters of the Jewish state he has earned, by word and deed, the trust of Israel and the North American Jewish community. Surely, as he pursues this diplomatic course, he is entitled to the goodwill and cooperation of Israel’s government.

In that regard, we should keep in mind that an Israeli attack on Gaza is certain to unleash a barrage of international criticism. American support will be essential if Israel’s military is to have the time it needs to complete its mission. For that reason, current tension between Israel and the American government over Israel’s settlement policy is a potential disaster. An unpopular President who is being asked to take the heat for support of an unpopular Israeli military operation is entitled to some consideration from Israel’s leaders. Whatever the differences, Israel needs to get its settlement policies in line with American expectations and to do so now.

With all this said, the responsibilities of North American Jews are clear. A centrist Israeli government has done everything within its power to escape a military confrontation. Nonetheless, confronted by challenges to its sovereignty, by expanding attacks on its civilian population, and by the unrelenting hatred of an anti-Semitic, religiously fanatic regime, it is moving toward the military action in Gaza that it had desperately hoped to avoid. Let us remember, then, that the Jewish state came into being for just such a time as this, when Jewish lives are in danger and no one but a Jewish army will come to their rescue. And let us remember too that our task now is to support Israel in her time of need, to make her case to our fellow citizens, and to do all that we can to rally the Jewish people and good people everywhere to her side.

Rabbi Yoffie is President of the Union for Reform Judaism.