God Is In This Place

by Rabbi Alissa Wise

This sermon was given Sunday, January 23, 2012 at St. Johns Presbyterian Church in San Francisco. Many thanks to St. Johns for the invitation and exceptionally warm welcome. The ideas within are in part thanks to the good thinking of JVPers who came before me and the work I did with my comrades at Jews Against the Occupation in NYC 2001-2004, among other smart people.

In Genesis we read:

Jacob woke from his sleep and said, surely God is in this place, and I did not know it!

It happened for me like that too. Well, maybe not exactly. Let me tell you what happened.

In the summer of 2007, while I was studying to become a rabbi, I lived in the West Bank for two months. One day I planted trees in a destroyed olive grove outside of Nablus. I was working with local Palestinian farmers and a group of activists from Sweden. None of the Swedish activists were Jewish; most of them were anarchist college students who were on the first trip to the Middle East, there just for a couple weeks to support Palestinian non-violent resistance.

Before we set out for the day, we exchanged information in case of arrest or injury, chose individuals to negotiate with the army, and reminded each other to follow the lead of the Palestinian farmers, to retreat when they wanted to and not to stray from the group.

As we walked the four miles out to the plot of land where the olive trees had been uprooted and now would be replanted, we got to know each other a bit. The Swedish internationals were intrigued that I was becoming a rabbi, and on our long walk out to the grove, they questioned me about what I believed about God. As happens a lot when I am with anarchists and activists who don’t like or trust organized religion, there was a skepticism, or at least a confusion about my religiosity; especially as the nearest religious Jews were the ones who did the uprooting. I would often dodge the question about God in this kind of situation.

But, at that moment I had an answer. As if, I, like Jacob suddenly woke up.

There I was on the lookout for Israeli military snipers or jeeps and being pressed to answer what I believed about God, in a land full of claims on God. I scanned my history with this land—my family’s connections to Jerusalem, my teen camping trips in the North of Israel, my dance club days in Tel Aviv in college — and I came to truly understand for the first time that it was against all odds that I was standing there. I had planted trees not too far from Nablus before with the Jewish National Fund — before I knew their participation in the erasure of Palestinian history. Yet there I was, a middle-class American Jew raised in a right-wing Zionist Jewish home, and now I was helping Palestinian farmers plant trees as an act of resistance in the occupied West Bank. It was in response to this question asked of me in Nablus that I filled in the blank about God:. God is the impulse in me to serve the Other out of a sense of responsibility that stems from the Source of redemption.

God was in this place and I did not know it.

And, then I did. I never looked back.

My responsibility to the other — the most intimate and the most distant — is what brings me to and sustains me in the work seeking a just peace for Israelis and Palestinians.

We all have a responsibility to hear from those directly affected by occupation and oppression how we might support their struggle for dignity, self-determination and equality.

After all, these demands are basic — as much as we might hope for ourselves – as the Golden Rule teaches — treat others as you would like to be treated. So simple, so basic — so incredibly challenging.

In 2005, a Palestinian call for Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) was made by over 120 organizations in Palestinian civil society. This call, a request for solidarity, urges those concerned with Palestinian human rights to take action in their local communities by organizing consumer boycott and divestment campaigns — like the effort underway in the Presbyterian church to divest from Caterpillar, Motorola Solutions, and Hewlett Packard.

Make no mistake about it — the call for Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions made by Palestinian civil society is a rebuke of the current policies and actions made by the Israeli government. This includes the ongoing military occupation of the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem, and the lack of basic civil rights for non-Jewish Arab citizens of Israel.

Several Christian denominations, including your own, have made brave, constructive decisions to investigate whether their churches’ investments contribute to violence and oppression in Israel and Palestine. Churches are reviewing investments as a means to ending the humiliation and brutality faced by Palestinians under occupation — an occupation that causes great harm to Israeli society as well. As long as one nation occupies another, neither can enjoy  true peace and security. As Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. taught, no one is free until we are all free.

The churches engaging in this review and calling for divestment understand that investing in corporations that profit from the occupation is unethical.  Examining the impact of their investments is a practical, effective way for American Christians to do good rather than cause harm — and is an answer to the Palestinian call for solidarity.

The decision to divest from the occupation is also critically important for Jews everywhere.

All too often, when a non-Jewish group or individual, speaks out against blatantly unjust Israeli policies and actions, they are accused of acting on that unreasoning hatred of Jews and Judaism that is commonly called anti-Semitism.

Anti-semitism, like all forms of oppression, seeks to lump all Jews together and assign us a set of characteristics–some negative, some positive.  In the lumping, we are made less human, no longer seen as individuals with our own individual lives and characteristics. Saying that all Jews support Israel unconditionally is in itself a kind of anti-Semitism, then, as it denies us the right to form our own opinions, beliefs, and relationships with Israel as whole people.

Issuing a moral rebuke such as a targeted divestment shows a respect for Jews, and others that support Israeli policies, that is fundamentally incompatible with anti-Semitism.  Such an act is predicated on the belief that the recipients of the rebuke are capable of reevaluating their actions and turning onto a more just path.

I can think of no greater act of friendship than to risk defamation in order to remind one’s friends of their own ideals when they, themselves, have forgotten them. In fact, this idea of sacred rebuke – tochecha – one of my most favorite Jewish concepts/values — is included in the Holiness Code — the section of the Torah that is famous for its focus on moral and ethical imperatives.

Tochecha is about our obligation to tell someone when they have done or are currently straying and behaving wrongly – whether to us, or to another. What’s more, tochecha requires us also to engage with those we are rebuking and assist them and support them in the repair of the wrong you are calling out.

As we learn in Leviticus 19:17:

You shall not hate your fellow human being in your heart. Rebuke your fellow human being but incur no guilt because of this person.

You shall not hate your fellow human being in your heart — this is required for one to engage in tochecha — rebuke. It must be based on love and respect.

We know that Jews will not be truly free or secure until the oppression of the Palestinians ends. By examining the economic underpinnings and voting to divest from companies that benefit from the Israeli occupation, that literally have a vested interest in the failure of a just peace, Christian churches are acting as partners with Jews in our own liberation.

Millennia of persecution have left most Jews with deep scars. Whether our relatives perished in the Holocaust or whether they suffered lesser forms of persecution and discrimination, we have been deeply affected by anti-Semitism.

Unfortunately the phenomenon is alive and well throughout the world.  Many still hold wrong-headed beliefs about Jews — that we are miserly, loud, arrogant, or untrustworthy. Or that we are all rich, smart and powerful.

Even if American Jews  are mostly safe and secure, we often don’t feel that way. We remain vigilant and ask our allies to remain alert as well.

Because our wounds run so deeply, it is very difficult for many Jews to recognize that Israel, not Palestinians, hold disproportionate power.

But, even still, that sacred rebuke is essential — even if — and perhaps because – it is difficult for some Jews to hear. It is precisely because of my love for my own family members, my community members that I do the work I do and participate in the call for BDS and see the growing global movement as a path to a lasting peace, with justice.

As a third century rabbi, Rabbi Yossi ben Chanina, taught: “A love without reproof is no love.”  His study partner Resh Lakish added: “Reproof leads to peace; a peace where there has been no reproof is no peace.”

Out of respect and love — highlight what is wrong, and together we step toward peace.

Highlight the harm of settlement expansion and of the various consumer products—like SodaStream and Ahava cosmetics that are profiting off of Palestinian’s natural resources and stolen land. Highlight the acts of Caterpillar which makes millions off of demolishing homes and uprooting olive trees. Each year, U.S. corporations receive an alarming subsidy from U.S. taxpayers. By law, 75% of U.S. military aid to Israel must be spent in American corporations. It is with this money, for example, that Israel buys weaponized bulldozers from Caterpillar.

Highlight Motorola solutions who profits from Israel’s control of the Palestinian population by providing surveillance systems around Israeli settlements, checkpoints, and military camps in the West Bank, as well as communication systems to the Israeli army and West Bank settlers.

Highlight Hewlett-Packard who provides on-going support and maintenance to a biometric ID system installed in Israeli checkpoints in the occupied West Bank which deprive Palestinians of the freedom of movement in their own land and allows the Israeli military occupation to grant or deny special privileges to the civilians under its control.

The Presbyterian church’s decision to openly look at your investments, and to call for divestment from the companies stated above – Caterpillar, Motorola Solutions, and Hewlett Packard – is so brave in part because you are doing it in the face of being painfully and wrongfully accused of anti-Semitism. The legacy of persecution against Jews runs deep and the prejudice is real even today. Accusations of anti-Semitism should not be taken lightly. Nor should they be issued carelessly.

As I see it, the quest for justice is at the core of Jewish tradition and identity. When Jews support the Israeli occupation, we are acting from fear due to centuries of intense persecution and genocide. When the US government supports the Israeli occupation in the face of international human rights violations, it is acting out of self-interests that have nothing to do with Jewish values, traditions or security. The very essence of Jewish values is a tradition of justice.

To the Jewish organizations that wield the accusation of anti-Semitism against those that speak out for justice, I ask, When have  you raised your voice when Israel demolishes  a Palestinian home or uproots a  Palestinian orchard?

The truth is that the majority of American Jews have never felt so distant either from those organizations or from Israel itself. Major studies commissioned  by these same organizations have found  that most young American Jews feel emotionally unattached to Israel and report that peace is a higher value to them than security.

These same American Jews reject the idea that all Palestinians or Muslims support terrorism. Other studies have confirmed that over two-thirds of American Jews are “disturbed by Israel’s policies and actions.”

For many American Jews, maintaining harmony with Jewish organizations like the Jewish Federation, the Jewish Community Relations Councils, and the Anti-Defamation League – comes  at the price of the values that most American Jews hold dear: justice, equality and peace.

Because the organizations of our parents and  grandparents no longer speak for us, groups including my organization, Jewish Voice for Peace, are generating  phenomenal support among American Jews.  Jewish Voice for Peace is one of the largest and oldest grassroots Jewish peace organizations in the US We have a professional staff of seven that supports over 100,000 Internet activists and some 1000 members in over 30 chapters across the United States.

Our work at JVP includes having initiated the largest divestment campaign for Palestinian human rights in US history. This campaign — the We Divest campaign — is now a national coalition effort that is demanding retirement fund giant TIAA-CREF divest from the Israeli occupation. Our petition to TIAA-CREF highlights 5 companies — 3 of which — Caterpillar, Veolia and Motorola Solutions — are part of their “socially responsible investment” portfolio. There is currently no way for TIAA-CREF investors to not be investing in human rights violations against Palestinians.

Daily humiliation at checkpoints, segregated Jewish-only roads, illegal settlement expansion, restrictions on movement and access to jobs and healthcare — all parts of a Palestinian’s life living under occupation must be stopped.

While not all may be ready to hear us, we must continue to speak. Our obligation to sacred rebuke endures — for Jews and non-Jews alike. We at Jewish voice for peace need your help. We cannot end the Israeli occupation alone. We need our allies to stand side-by-side with us.

This work, my friends, is where God resides. God is surely in this place, and, now, I do know it.

And yet, in truth. we do not know for sure what will come of it.

As the book of Proverbs beautifully teaches us in chapter 9 verse 8:

A scoffer who is rebuked will only hate you; the wise, when rebuked, will love you.

For decades, churches have led the way in applying the nonviolent tactic of divestment to end violence against civilians all over the world. The Presbyterian Church has shown the integrity, and the courage, to rebuke the Israeli government for its bitter oppression of the Palestinians.

Whether it was intended, or not, this rebuke speaks also to the many Jews, and non-Jews, who support Israel’s oppressive policies, or stand aside and leave them unopposed.  Now we must face the test of our own integrity, and our own courage:  we must choose how we will hear the message of divestment.  Will we be scoffers, hating our friends for challenging our misdeeds, or will we be wise, loving them for reminding us of the pursuit of justice that is our highest calling, and the expression of our better selves?

The answer, of course, is that our response will be mixed, and, at first, the scoffers may well predominate.  Yet I believe that the day will come, be it in one year, five years, or in fifty, when the Presbyterian Church’s action in this matter will be remembered with love and gratitude by Jews around the world.

I am proud to be among the first to say, Todah Rabah, “Thank you!”

If We Bomb Iran, What Will Happen to Iranian Jews?

by Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb

Jewish history overflows with tales of sorrow. Are we to endure yet another loss, but this time perpetrated by our own foolish hands? Those who think that  bombing Iran serves a defensive purpose should reconsider and remember a forgotten people, the 35,000 Jews of Iran. What will happen to them?

In 2009 I had the honor to co-lead two interfaith peace delegations to Iran under the auspices of The Fellowship of Reconciliation, Shomer Shalom Network for Jewish Nonviolence and The Center for Interfaith Dialogue in Teheran. These two delegations are part of a continuing global effort to cultivate positive relationships between people of faith in areas of potential or existing conflict.

During both visits to Iran,  we spent time meeting the Jewish communities in Tehran, Esfahan and Shiraz. I had the opportunity to visit synagogues during prayer services, eat at a kosher restaurant, meet Jewish students at Hebrew school, and enjoy open conversations with Jewish cultural, political and communal leaders in public Jewish institutions and private homes.

Jewish people have lived continuously in Iran for nearly three thousand years. They are guardians of a rite of ancient pilgrimage to the tombs of Esther and Mordecai, the prophet Daniel and the beloved Serach Bat Asher whose stories are well known to the Jews of the Middle East. Iranian Jews possess a 1800 year old Torah in Hamadan and a  rich historical memory. They are proud of their religious Persian Jewish identity. The Jewish communities of Iran should be considered a spiritual heritage by people of faith everywhere.

Jews in Israel, the United States, Europe and elsewhere, should speak up now, before it’s too late and demand that war be taken off the table for the sake of this ancient community that does not want Israel to intervene in their country. Are we to end the life of the ancient Jewish community of Iran by causing instability to be unleashed in their midst?

No serious person with experience in the region thinks initiating a war with Iran will bring security to the United States, Israel or the region. There are many other channels of peacemaking to pursue. If you ask the Jews of Iran, or, for that matter the vast majority of citizens of Iran, they will tell you to please allow them the freedom to do the work of social change in their own country.

Outside military intervention will only make matters worse for everyone.  We have lost enough of our ancient diaspora. Let us not endanger the only continuous Middle Eastern Jewish community in the world today. Let us stand up to the propaganda and fear mongering pushing us toward another disaster.

Jews/Christians and Israel/Palestine: Rediscovering the Prophetic

Here is the sermon that I delivered yesterday at St. James Episcopal Cathedral in Chicago. If you would like a copy of “Steadfast Hope,” the study guide to which I refer in my remarks, click here.

I am so pleased to be here with you this morning – and so very honored to have been invited to preach to you today. I want to especially thank Dean Joy Rogers for the invitation and to St. James for hosting me so graciously.

I’d also like to thank my very dear friend, Father Cotton Fite of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Evanston, who I believe had no small part in making my visit here a reality. Many members of my congregation have come to know Father Cotton well – in addition to our friendship, he has become something of a mainstay at our Shabbat morning Torah study group. I value my friendship with Cotton quite deeply – and I’d like to think that our the work might provide a model for a new kind of interfaith action. Indeed, this very model is at the heart of my message to you this morning.

I’d like to start properly: with this Sunday’s Episcopal lectionary selection from the Hebrew Bible: 1 Samuel, chapter 3:

In an earlier chapter, we’ve already read that Samuel was born under somewhat remarkable circumstances. Before his birth, his mother Hannah had promised to dedicate him to divine service if only God would only bless her with a child. In chapter 3, the young Samuel is now serving under Eli the priest at the temple in Shiloh. We’re told that in those days, “the word of the Lord was rare; prophecy was not widespread” – clearly a literary clue that this all about to change.

Samuel is sleeping in the temple, next to the Ark of God. In the middle of the night, God calls out to Samuel, and Samuel, who thinks he hears Eli calling him, runs to the priest, and says “Hineini – Here I am.” Eli replies, “I didn’t call you – go back to sleep!” This happens again, and Eli, presumably with even greater exasperation in his voice now, sends Samuel back to bed.

When it happens a third time, Eli finally realizes what is going on. So he instructs Samuel, “If it happens again, say ‘Speak Lord, for Your servant in listening.” When Samuel is called yet again, he follows Eli’s instructions. God then reveals to Samuel that Eli’s priestly house is about to be punished, due to the corruption of his sons and his unwillingness to rein them in.

The next morning, Eli asks Samuel what God said, adding “please do not hold anything back.” And so the young Samuel tells Eli everything: “the good, the bad, and the ugly,” if you will. Painful though it must have been, Eli accepts God’s word as delivered by Samuel.

At the close of the chapter, we learn that Samuel grew up and “the Lord was with him.” As the text puts it, “(God) did not leave any of Samuel’s predictions unfulfilled.” Thus, Samuel quickly gained a reputation through Israel as a trustworthy prophet. He would go on, of course, to be one of the greatest prophets in Israelite history.

Now on the surface of this story, there is sort of a endearing slapstick quality to the young Samuel’s discovery of his prophetic abilities. Because of this, I think it’s too easy to misunderstand the real source of Samuel’s greatness. What made Samuel a great prophet? Was it because he was promised to God by his mother? Was it because he had the ability to hear God talking to him when no one else could – not even Eli the priest himself?

No, I believe the key to his prophetic greatness lay in what came next. Samuel learned a harsh and painful truth about a very powerful man – a man who also happened to be his spiritual mentor – and he was willing to speak that unvarnished truth to him. He did not shrink from his prophetic responsibility, although the chances were probably strong that Eli could cast him out for delivering such a message.

This is, after all the essence of being a prophet. A prophet isn’t someone who can tell the future – and a prophet is certainly not special for being chosen to deliver God’s divine message. No, the essence of being a prophet lies in one’s readiness to speak painful, difficult, often public truths to power.

We will soon learn a great deal about the wages of power in the book of Samuel. The Israelites will eventually come to Samuel and tell him they want a king of their own. They tell him they want to be “governed like all the other nations.”

Samuel is grieved by this request – like all prophets, he takes it very personally. But God tells him, “Don’t fret. It’s not you they are rejecting, Samuel, it’s me. They’ve just never understood where the real source of power in the world lies, despite my attempts to demonstrate this to them over and over again. If they think that putting their faith in military and political power will save them, fine. But they will soon find out where that path will lead them.”

And of course as they come to discover, kingship in Ancient Israel doesn’t go so well for the new nation. It becomes focused on militarism, becomes incorrigibly corrupt, splits in two and eventually gets overrun from within and without. During this period, it is only the prophets who continue to speak the hard truth to power, who rail against the toxic ambitions of Israelite empire, who warn that this path will eventually be their downfall. And so it becomes.

When I asked Dean Joy for some advice on what I should say in my sermon to you today, she advised me to share my own spiritual vision with you, to speak a bit about the values that drive me as a spiritual leader. So I will say that, personally speaking, prophetic religion is my primary spiritual inspiration as a rabbi, as a Jew, and as a human being. I am driven by religion that speaks hard truth to power. By faith that holds unmitigated human power to account.

I fervently believe that when religion advocates the cause of the powerless, when it stands with those who are victimized by the powerful, when religion proclaims that God stands with the oppressed and seeks their liberation – this is historically when religion has been at its very best. And conversely, when religion is used to promote empire, when it is used as by the powerful to justify their rule, when it is wedded to militarism, nationalism and political power – this is, tragically, when we witness religion at its worst.

I cannot help but read Jewish tradition with prophetic eyes. As a Jew, I’ve always been enormously proud of the classic rabbinical response to empire. I believe that the Jewish people have been able to survive even under such large and mighty powers because we’ve clung to a singular sacred vision. That there is a power even greater. Greater than Pharaoh, greater than Babylon, even greater than the Roman empire that exiled us and dispersed our people throughout the diaspora. It is a quintessentially Jewish vision best summed up by the prophetic line from the book of Zechariah: “Lo b’chayil v’lo b’koach” – “Not by might and not by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of Hosts.”

And as a 21st century American Jew, I cannot help but view the world through prophetic eyes as well. Painful though it is, if I am to be true to my understanding of my spiritual tradition, I cannot simply look away when I see my own country going down the road to empire, when I see our nation enmeshed in a state of permanent war around the world with economic disparity growing ever larger here at home.

To be sure, these are not issues of concern for the American Jewish community alone. And in my own interfaith activism, I have been deeply inspired by my clergy colleagues and other people of faith who share this prophetic vision. For me, this is the most critical aspect of the interfaith relations – the movements that are created when faith traditions come together to hold power to account in a time of unacceptably growing gaps between the wealthy and poor, the privileged and the exploited, the powerful and powerless.

However, in order for this coalition to truly thrive, more specifically, in order for Jews and Christians to truly work together, we are going to have to find new ways to talk to each other. We must not park our prophetic values at the door whenever our conversations grow difficult. And one of the most difficult conversations has to do with the issue of Israel and Palestine.

In my opinion, the issue of Israel – Palestine is the one area in which true interfaith cooperation tends to break down. However, if we are to use the prophetic model as a guide for Jewish-Christian relations, then our communities cannot shirk from sharing hard truths with one another.

Just as the Jewish community has not hesitated to hold the Christian community to task for any number of historical issues, I do not expect the Christian community to shrink from fully speaking its mind on the issue of Israel – Palestine. We cannot and should not dance around this issue. To my mind, there is simply too much at stake.

This is, needless to say a painful issue for Jews to talk about amongst themselves, let alone with others. But I would like to emphasize that there is by no means a uniformity of opinion on this issue in our community. While I have strong feelings about this subject, I do not pretend to speak for my congregation or the Jewish community at large – nor should any Jewish leader.

In this regard, I want to your church to know I am profoundly appreciative of the Episcopal publication of “Steadfast Hope: The Palestinian Quest for Just Peace,” the report that originated in the Presbyterian Church. I’m glad to know that your church has been studying it together these past few weeks and I’m so happy to be able to join your study session here after our service this morning.

More than the content itself, I am truly inspired by this study guide because it represents an authentically prophetic statement. It is faithful, forthright, and unflinching. Rather than paper over the difficult issues, it shines a light on them. And in the end, these are the places where real dialogue must ultimately start.

I have no doubt that “Steadfast Hope” is being attacked angrily by some in the Jewish community and elsewhere. But that is, of course, the nature of prophetic witness. You don’t shy away from speaking your truth because you’re worried about hurting feelings, you can’t dwell on the prospect of being labeled any number of names, and you shouldn’t allow yourself to be bullied or cowed into silence. On the contrary, acting prophetically means speaking your truth knowing full well that there will be strong opposition, but with the faith that there will also be those on the other side who are ready to hear your message and ready to work alongside you in your struggle.

So I’d like to suggest carving out a new place for interfaith relations between our respective communities. Not one that seeks dialogue for dialogue’s sake, nor one that engages in political bartering, but one that finds common cause in prophetic witness.

Indeed, I hold on to this hope for my own community as well – and here I’d like to return to our lectionary chapter once more. If we read this story carefully, we may well discover that Samuel is not the only hero here. There is also Eli the priest – who is able to hear powerful rebuke, along with a prophecy of terrible consequences for his family.

What does he do? He has the wisdom, the humility and the strong sense of self to ask Samuel for the whole truth – and when he hears it he is able to accept it. He is able to hear this difficult, harsh, prophecy and not react with anger or defensiveness – for he knows it comes from a place of truth and righteousness.

I believe that Eli’s response to Samuel’s prophecy provides a powerful model for my own community. While I fervently hope that we find the strength to offer prophetic witness, I also pray that we find the courage to accept it as well. To overcome the fears that keep us from finding true partners in the struggle for liberation in our world.

So let us come together by facing down the glorification of corrupt power. Let us work together to affirm loudly that it is not by might and not by power but by God’s spirit alone that we will create God’s kingdom here on earth. And let us find a common worship in the God that stands with the oppressed, the marginalized and the vulnerable.

I look forward to working together with you in this sacred work and, once again, I thank you so very much for inviting me to join you in worship this morning.

May There Soon be Heard in the Streets of the World, Lovers and Beloveds Shouting in Celebration…

by Rabbi Alissa Wise

As a rabbi, I have a complicated relationship to marriage.

On the one hand, I believe in the transformative power of ritual and want to facilitate meaning-making and connection whenever we are able to have it. We live in an uncertain world where opportunities for celebration should not be passed by, and certainly people making bold commitments and affirmations of love are one of those opportunities.

On the other hand, as a spiritual leader, I can not stay silent when I see the harm marriage has long caused in our culture. A coveted status here in the US, marriage reinforces systems of privilege and oppression in our culture, dividing us in harmful ways, whether through ill-advised immigration laws, through cutting people off from their support networks in hospitals, by making non-romantic love and connection invisible, or by distracting the LGBTQ community to see marriage as the ultimate goal for gender and sexual liberation.

But even these divisions aren’t quite as stark as those in Israel – in particular for Palestinians who marry Israelis. This past Wednesday, the Israeli Supreme Court upheld a ban on Palestinians living with Israeli spouses.

That’s right–they affirmed an existing law that forbids Palestinians without Israeli citizenship to live in Israel with their spouses who have Israeli citizenship.

While here in the US, marriage is tied to privilege, in Israel marriage means separation. If you are the Israeli spouse, it means leaving your home – and most likely your friends and family – to live with your partner. While the six Supreme Court judges who voted to uphold the law recognized the existence of couples’ constitutional right to live together, they added that “this does not necessarily require that they make their home in Israel.” The marital status discrimination being faced by a segment of Israelis, is based on ethnicity and citizenship.

Adalah – The Legal Center for Arab Minority Rights in Israel, who mounted the legal challenge to the Israeli Supreme Court, issued the following statement yesterday:

The High Court of Justice today approved a law the likes of which does not exist in any democratic state in the world, depriving citizens from maintaining a family life in Israel only on the basis of the ethnic affiliation of the male or female spouse. The ruling proves how much the situation regarding the civil rights of the Arab minority in Israel is declining into a highly dangerous and unprecedented situation.

The sixth blessing of the seven wedding blessings recited under the huppah at most Jewish weddings reads: “May there soon be heard in the streets of Jerusalem, lovers and beloveds shouting in celebration”.

Yes, may this be so – for all who live there and for all who wish to make their home there.

What Will 2012 Bring?

by Rabbi Alissa Wise

The new year of 2012, which is a second new year for many Jews, is another chance for self-reflection, personal inventory and intention setting. Perhaps we can think of it as a bit of a “quarterly check-in” of the work done a few months back at Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur. This new calendar year shift offers an opportunity to look at the political year ahead of us and to make some predictions (read: hopes) for what this year might hold for us.

From my seat as Director of Campaigns at JVP, I’m thinking this year will be a year of talking about BDS in the Jewish community. Yes, 2011 saw plenty of that with ground-breaking BDS panels and discussions in Boston and Brooklyn, among other places, where Jewish pro-BDS activists were heard in synagogue or other Jewish communal venues. But 2012 is already primed to continue this—and perhaps a lot more directly and intensively – engage the Jewish community around BDS and Jewish support for BDS in particular:

1. The upcoming Penn BDS conference in early February is already being organized against by the Israel Action Network (IAN)– a relatively new effort of Jewish Federations of North America in partnership with the Jewish Council on Public Affairs.  The conference includes workshops and presentations by leading journalists, academics, activists, and religious leaders—including JVP Rabbinical Council rabbis and leaders of Young, Jewish, and Proud and the initial “alert” from IAN mentioned coordinated efforts with many anti-BDS Jewish communal institutions including Hillel and the Israel Campus Coalition.

2. In 2010, Hillel passed a restrictive  “Standards of Partnership”  that state that Hillel will not “partner with, house, or host organizations, groups, or speakers that as a matter of policy or practice” support BDS, among other things. In 2011, these standards were used to restrict the JVP-Brandeis chapter from formally affiliating with Brandeis Hillel. Now, in 2012, JVP’s Go & Learn Initiative aims to challenge this kind of McCarthyism in the Jewish community around engaging in conversation or learning about BDS.

The Go & Learn Initiative, inspired by Hillel the Elder’s famous response to the challenge to say what is the Torah while standing on one foot: “What is hateful to you, do not do to others. That is the whole Torah; go and learn.” Rooted in the ethical obligation we have to others, the initiative will bring BDS education events—interactive workshops and dialogues about BDS—to Jewish communities across North America. Go & Learn BDS Education events are a way for Jews to continue to (or begin to) develop their own opinion on BDS, in an informed, multifaceted way.  The educational materials that are developed for this effort will be made available for public use and development by whomever wishes to explore–not necessarily support–BDS as a tactic.

3. The Student Leadership Team of the We Divest Campaign—the campaign demanding retirement fund giant TIAA-CREF divest from companies profiting from the Israeli occupation—will launch campaigns on a dozen campuses nationwide this spring. The Israel on Campus Coalition and the Israel Action Network are paying special attention to campus activism as a focus of their anti-BDS efforts. And this campaign, initiated by JVP, and now a national coalition effort, is currently the largest divestment campaign in support of Palestinian human rights in the US,  potentially increasing its exposure to anti-BDS organizing efforts.

It remains to be seen what all of this will amount to—but what I hope it does is contribute to improving the lives of Palestinians living under military occupation in the West Bank and Gaza and being denied basic civil rights inside Israel. Also, I hope it will nudge us all to hold fast to a commitment to learning and discussion, to stimulate curiosity in each other, grow our respect for each other, to be inspired by our shared commitment to self-determination, equality and justice for all people, to reflect critically and honestly on Israeli policies, and to support the expansion of Jewish communities in authentic and positive ways that nurture and respect who we all are in our unique– and fabulous– Jewish identities.

May 2012 be a year of chutzpah and curiosity and may it be a year of small and large successes living Torah: not doing to others what we hate being done to us.

From the “Original” Palestinian Talmud Blog

by Rabbi Alissa Wise

During rabbinical school, I spent three summers doing human rights work on the West Bank, largely with the International Women’s Peace Service in the Salfit Region of the West Bank. While there, I kept a blog of my experiences which was called “Palestinian Talmud.” I am delighted that a blog with the same title is being re-imagined now by the JVP Rabbinical Council.

In honor of the first Palestinian Talmud blog, I am sharing here a handful of my posts from Summer 2007, the second summer I spent on the West Bank witnessing documenting human rights abuses perpetrated by the Israeli Army and/or the settler population and also working with Birthright Unplugged and Birthright Replugged.

In reviewing these posts, I am struck by how many of these stories are as important to read and tell now as they were four and a half years ago, and by how entrenched and frighteningly normative a lot of what I describe has become in understanding the Israeli occupation.

As a new reader to these posts, I am curious what stands out to you as interesting and relevant. Please share your respectful comments below.

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