From the Rabbi

It is the time of year that we read about the Ten Plagues and the eventual liberation of the children of Israel from Egypt. Their thrust into the desert was the moment they became a people — a people of immigrants. For the rest of the Torah, they will be roaming the wilderness. So it’s not surprising that the Torah is full of mandates to love and care for the immigrant. The Torah calls us in dozens of different ways to love the stranger, as we were all strangers. Many immigrants pay with blood to arrive on safe shores. They make a blood covenant with Lady Liberty and the ideal of freedom, just as the children of Israel had to apply blood on their doorposts in order to leave.

As an immigrant and a son of immigrants, I always felt comfortable in America — the land of immigrants. Beyond the discussion about legal or illegal immigration, we must not forget that we are playing with many lives. But for those undocumented, they live in the shadows. Their liberation would not be to leave, but to stay. In America, immigration and its many issues should not be perceived as a hot potato, but rather as its meat and potatoes. While we are debating a comprehensive solution to the immigration system, let’s not forget that life doesn’t wait. Many families formed, many children were raised, and for many, this is the only reality they know. Let’s deal with this issue as we deal with life itself, starting with the life in the womb.

I often compare the discussion about immigration to that of abortion. Just as many of us wouldn’t want to end the life that developed in the womb, we shouldn’t want to uproot the life of a family. America may secure its borders but cannot ignore the life that developed in its womb. Deportation, like abortion, sometimes is necessary. According to Jewish law, “life” begins after 40 days in the womb, the time of the first heartbeat. Similarly, in immigration, after a certain point, life develops.

Immigration is a religious act. It is willing to leap forward through a bloody door. The Prophet Ezekiel says: “And when I passed by you, and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you: In your blood, live; I said to you: In your blood, live;” (16:6) According to our rabbis, Ezekiel is referring to the lamb’s blood on the doorpost and the blood of the covenant with God who gives life (also circumcision), the blood we are willing to give in order to reach a better existence. Immigrants don’t just develop life here, they bring life with them. Accepting the immigrant gives the other side an opportunity to fulfill many mitzvoth. Immigrants are our way to be God fearing. Ultimately, they can be the best ambassadors on earth, and also in heaven in front of God.

Blessings,

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

By its name, Jerusalem is a city of peace (“they shall regard peace”), and for centuries the object of hope for the Jewish people. The yearning to return to Jerusalem was not simply to return home, but to return to God, with Jerusalem acting as the bridge between earth and heaven. The Talmud (Taanit 5a) brings a midrash where God Himself says, “I shall not arrive in the heavenly Jerusalem (Yerushalayim shel Maa’la) until I arrive at the earthly Jerusalem (Yerushalayim shel Mata).”

In essence, Jerusalem is built on two levels: The road to redemption in heavenly Jerusalem goes through its earthly twin. God will not bestow His blessing of peace from heaven until we bestow the blessing of peace on each other here on earth. The Jewish yearning is to bridge the physical and the spiritual Jerusalem, where the angels from Jacob’s Ladder will continue to go up and down, and where it feels as comfortable on earth as in heaven.

Following President Trump’s Jerusalem’s speech, the Conservative Movement worldwide — including 13 of its institutions, the Rabbinical Assembly, United Synagogue, and the Jewish Theological Seminary — issued the following statement:

“Jerusalem is Judaism’s holiest city and the capital of the State of Israel, as the Conservative Movement has long maintained in resolutions and public statements. We are pleased at the President’s initiative, that the United States government will now recognize Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and begin the process of moving the American  diplomatic mission from Tel Aviv.

“The status of Jerusalem is a matter to be settled in direct negotiations between Israel and the Palestinians. But in recognizing Jerusalem as Israel’s capital and planning to move the American embassy to a location under uncontested Israeli sovereignty, the U.S. government acknowledges the age-old connection that Israel and the Jewish people maintain with the holy city.

“We urge the U.S., Israel, the Palestinian Authority, and the international community to take the bold steps needed to advance a two-state solution and a regional accord between Israel and its neighbors. Now more than ever, Israelis and Palestinians deserve a just and durable peace that protects the security of Israelis and grants to Palestinians an independent state in which to realize their national aspirations.”

I believe our movement’s message summarizes and encapsulates the elements that are needed for us to strive for a peaceful earthly Jerusalem. Whether the President’s announcement was simply stating an existing reality, or meant as a will to “undo” the U.N.’s denial of any clear Jewish connection to Jerusalem in its resolution last year, the fact is that Jerusalem is where we have established our capital and we want that fact to be recognized. U.S. policy on the ground reflects an awareness that Jerusalem is a city subject to dual claims, both of which the United States still respects. And that shouldn’t disqualify the U.S. from being an honest broker between Israelis and Palestinians. I hope that other countries and leaders around the world will stand behind Israel and its right to make Jerusalem its capital.

Furthermore, neutrality is not necessarily the best strategy here. For two states to exist next to each other, the Palestinians should grant that right to Israel, too. U.N. resolutions should be calling on the Palestinians to stop their monetary support for terrorists, and stop teaching hate of Israel in their textbooks. Recognizing Jerusalem as the capital of Israel does not negate a Palestinian connection to the land. In fact, the Talmud continues to say that the ultimate obstacle to bridging the physical Jerusalem with the heavenly one is idol worshipping. Since all monotheistic faiths fight against idol worship, there should be no problem in having the Jewish sector and the Muslim sector next to each other.

There is divinity even in this political reality and discussion — a sacred and difficult conversation — as in a marriage. In fact, we say it at every Jewish wedding: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I remember thee not; if I set not Jerusalem above my chiefest joy.” That is to say, the relationship between God and the people of Israel is a marriage. There are ups and downs, and we can be away for a long time, but we are still married to each other.

As we enter the month of Tevet, let’s take to mind the lesson of Hanukkah and the candles we just lit for eight nights. At the end of the Haftarah for Shabbat Hanukkah: “Not by might, nor by power, but by My spirit, said the Lord of hosts.” (Zechariah 4:6) Eventually, Jerusalem will show us how to be in peace.

Chodesh Tov.

—Rabbi Gadi Capela

Dear members and friends,

During the last three weeks, I have been enjoying an incredible trip around the beautiful United States. Visiting the breathtakingly massive rock formations within many of our national parks always reminds me of our fleeting existence. One of the most beautiful — and one hard to remain indifferent to — is the rock formation in Sedona, Arizona. The sandstone and limestone deposits of millions of years, which were once a bottom of an ocean, are now revealed as a magnificent sculpture made by nature. The “natural artist” used the force of wind and water to shape its material. The red rocks are even analogous to blood and perhaps ourselves.

This sight immediately brought to mind the verse from Job (14:19): “The waters wear the stones; the overflowings thereof wash away the dust of the earth…” This verse also became the inspiration for Akiva to become Rabbi Akiva — the greatest sage of the Talmud (c 50-135 CE).  A Midrash (Avot de Rabbi Natan Ch. 6) lays out the story:

What were the beginnings of Rabbi Akiva? It is said: When he was 40 years of age, he had not yet studied anything. One day he stood at the mouth of the well. “Who hollowed out this stone?” he wondered. They said to him: “The water that falls on it every day.” They said to him: “Akiva, have you not read, Stones, worn away by water? Immediately, Rabbi Akiva drew an inference [kal v’chomer] with regard to himself: if what is soft carves out the hard, all the more shall the words of Torah, which are as hard as iron, hollow out my heart, which is flesh and blood. Immediately, he went to study Torah… The teacher wrote down aleph-bet for him and he learned it; aleph-tav, and he learned it; the Book of Leviticus, and he learned it. He went on studying until he learned the whole of Torah.

This story is about late blooming and the power of persistence — how Rabbi Akiva at one point as an adult decides to change his life and begins learning Torah as though he were a child. He compares the water to Torah that can shape him over time in the same way that water shapes stones. This became Rabbi Akiva’s motto: If water can wear down a stone, Akiva can become a scholar… If water can wear down a stone, then every Jew can and will study Torah… If water can wear down a stone, the Jewish people can overcome Rome… If water can wear down stone, then the Temple can be rebuilt…

However, we recently read about Lot’s wife, who turned back into a rock, into a pillar of salt. (Genesis 19:26) “But his wife looked back from behind him, and she became a pillar of salt.” Perhaps this occurred because she turned back instead of letting herself go forward. Perhaps she was afraid of the long and slow road ahead. In the short run, perhaps rocks shape the path of water. But in the long run, water shapes rocks. We, too, should not resist the wind and the water of life, but let them shape and form us like red rocks, to become a refined version of ourselves. Let the waters wear the stones in us, and wash away the dust of the earth.

Chodesh Tov,

—Rabbi Gadi