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Jewish Post & Opinion |
Maybe you'll agree
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| By JENNIE COHEN | By ED STATTMANN |
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On the first yahrzeit for my father, Gabriel Cohen, founder and publisher of this newspaper from 1930–2005, I am giving up my space to make room for the following tribute from one of his writers from the 1970s, Yossi Klein Halevi. Jennie Cohen 4-16-08 Remembering Gabe Gabe's vision of journalism, of Jewish journalism, and of American Jewish life were all focused on the same principle: Make it interesting. Gabe understood that the failure of American Jewry in the mid-20th century was to turn one of history’s great sagas into tedium. How could Jewish life in the 20th century possibly be boring? That was Gabe's challenge to American Jewry – and his challenge to those of us who were privileged to write for him. I first encountered the P&O as a boy growing up in Brooklyn in the early 1960s. The experience was revelatory. In the pages of the P&O I encountered the unpredictable, the exciting, the bizarre. There was a prophet named Eliezer, picketing Temple Emanuel, enraged at the rule of the wealthy. There was Abraham Joshua Heschel, accusing American Jewish leaders of betraying Soviet Jews. The P&O transformed American Jewry into something it was not yet: a worthy continuation of the Jewish story. It would be no exaggeration to say that Gabe was one of the visionaries of American Jewish renewal. He insisted that American Jewry had the talent, the resources and the commitment to transform itself into a vibrant, interesting community. All it needed was passion and courage. Those qualities were the hallmarks of Gabe the editor. As a teenager, my dream was to write for two newspapers: the Village Voice and the P&O – the Voice because it was then promoting what became known as the new journalism, and the P&O because it was promoting American Jewish vitality. In 1971, when I was 18, I finally got up the nerve to write him a letter. Would he be interested in a column about Jewish activism, written from the perspective of a supporter of the Jewish Defense League? I enclosed a sample column. I still cherish the opening line of the note Gabe wrote back: “You do real good.” He suggested a weekly column, at the princely sum of ten dollars a shot. I was stunned: You mean they actually pay you to do this? He placed my column, “Young Jewish Activist,” opposite that of Mike Tabor, who wrote a column called “Young Jewish Radical.” JDL vs. the Left. Gabe wanted confrontation, gladiator politics – vitality. Anything to wake American Jews from their stupor. Of course Gabe never censored, never asked me to tone down an opinion, no matter how outrageous – and some of my personal attacks on Jewish leaders were probably libelous. Occasionally he’d praise one of my columns in his Editor’s Chair, which I read avidly, shamelessly searching for my name, cherishing a nod from Gabe. Gabe taught me to write from my deepest truth, and damn the consequences. He taught me that journalists do this for love, not money – and he was his own best example of selflessness. He taught me not to wait for others – even him – to promote my own causes. In 1973, I was part of a group that was arrested in a demonstration in Moscow. I waited for Gabe to cover the event, which received widespread publicity, but he devoted only a few lines to the demonstration. Hurt and angry, I didn’t send him a column for several weeks. Finally, I wrote to tell him how I felt. He wrote me back a testy note, saying that I was the one who had a story to tell and why hadn’t I written it yet instead of complaining about him? Needless to say, I resumed my column – and Gabe turned my Moscow experiences into a series. As far as I can recall, we actually met only once. I was in Chicago, visiting friends, and went to Indianapolis to see him. I had expected someone big, fierce; instead, I found a seemingly fragile, folksy mid-Western Jew. The fragileness of course was deceptive. Gabe wasn't an easy man, perhaps not always conventionally nice. But he taught me the difference between being nice and being good. And Gabe, as a journalist, as a Jewish journalist, as an American Jew, was as good as they come. Yossi Klein Halevi is contributing editor and Israel correspondent of The New Republic. Currently he is senior fellow at the Shalem Center, where he is writing a book about the Israeli paratroopers who reunited Jerusalem in 1967. He worked as a senior writer for the magazine Jerusalem Report from its founding in 1990 until 2002. He got his start writing for this newspaper in the early 1970s under the name Yossi Klein. His most recent book, At the Entrance to the Garden of Eden: A Jew’s Search for God with Christians and Muslims in the Holy Land was published in 2001. Halevi, the son of a Holocaust survivor was born
and raised in New York. He moved to Israel in 1982 and now lives
in Jerusalem with his wife and three children. Jennie Cohen
6 Nisan 5768 (Lev. 14:1–15:33) Today, outside of my office (literally) are 120 teenagers from the NFTY’s Ohio Valley region who have gathered at IHC for their annual spring conclave. To some of you, the memory of youth conclaves brings back smiles. For those who never participated, couldn’t participate or chose not to be part of IHC’s youth program or NFTY, you may not totally get it. I grew up in MAFTY (Mid-Atlantic Federation of Temple Youth, which is now known as NFTY-MAR) and loved the three or so conclaves that occurred every year. It was a chance to see Jewish friends around the region and to make new ones. The opportunity to grow as a Jew and as a person was always a result of the weekend experience. The song sessions and services were uplifting and inspiring. They still resonate with me today. The youth outside my office will get a similar experience this weekend as well nearly 40 years after my NFTY years. I am not sure why some youth choose to make IFTY or NFTY (North American Federation of Temple Youth) a part of their lives while others run from it as far as they can. I am not sure why some parents insist or encourage their children to participate while others don’t even know we have a youth program at IHC. Congregational youth programs are about bonding, values, leadership, social action, and Judaism. Friends made through these programs are not just for today, but can often last a lifetime. The personal growth is positive and healthy. I would love more families at IHC or their temple wherever it is to make youth programs a priority. I guess part of my struggle is that congregations say that the youth is the future. Temple leaders say this and parents say this, but for too many it is just words. When our youth lead a service (like this evening) they need to know that the congregation stands behind them. I’ve seen youth in our congregation take roles in worship or other programs and their parents don’t even attend to support them. What is the message? When we needed extra housing for this conclave, a number of parents said yes, but we only had enough room because some parents took a lot of the youth. (Thank you to everyone who said yes.) In a congregation that probably has 150 high school age youth, why wasn’t this an easy task? Our future is always with the next generation,
but the next generation doesn’t need simply to hear this,
they need to see obvious signs of support and encouragement. They
need to know that IHC or any other congregation deeply values who
they are and cares about what they are to become. Sandy and I both
participated in youth group and were blessed by two children who
wanted to do the same. Yes, I am the rabbi, but that doesn’t
guarantee that my children will share my passion. We encouraged
them to participate and go to the conclaves. We never let any obstacle
get in the way of their meeting other Jewish youth or growing as
Jews. They went to GUCI, participated in EIE, the Reform high school
semester in Israel program, went to conclaves, and more. Where we
had success others may not, but it usually won’t work at all
without the adults and parents and even grandparents, aunts, uncles,
cousins giving the message that Jewish youth programming is important
and can make a difference in who one is. If you are reading this
message and you have young children or grandchildren, consider what
you want your child to be and where you want your child to receive
positive values and friendships. One obvious answer is youth group. When you light your Shabbat candles this evening,
light one for the youth, as they are our future and we must light
the way for them. Light the other as a reminder to ourselves that
we must be part of process that makes this work. It doesn’t
matter whether your children are done with youth group; we are all
still parents and adults. Our task is never finished. Rabbi Adland is senior rabbi of Indianapolis Hebrew Congregation. Updated 4/17/08
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In the news recently, the Olympic Torch, as runners take it toward Beijing, has – thanks to protesters – been illuminating China’s policies of repression toward Tibet. As Jews, many of us will feel obligated to speak up for those who cannot and to speak up so that others will do so. We know what happens when nobody is left to speak up. The summer Olympic Games will take place, though, inevitably. The games will showcase the best possible face that China can present. They will also provide a sounding board for those who damn China for repressing Tibet and supporting Sudan’s policy of mass murder in Darfur. Like China and the United States, Israel is a nation state. No nation state is holy, even in the Holy Land. The Dalai Lama visited Israel in February 2006, and Israel’s Foreign Ministry denied him a formal meeting, describing his visit as a private one. He was welcomed by human rights groups, but not by the Jewish state. Last month a Knesset member, Michael Melchior, averred in that legislature that Israel has “a moral duty regarding the Jewish and the general history we’re part of.” He acknowledged that Israel has interests in China and suggested that Israel rule out boycotts and sanctions, but added, “I suggest we say what needs to be said and what the other cultured nations have already said.” Hardly a scream of protest. Israel has expressed no intention of boycotting the Olympic Games. As individuals, we can speak out. Film director Steven Spielberg did so loudly enough to be heard globally. He very publicly withdrew his commitment to be an artistic adviser to the games because he supports efforts to pressure Beijing on its support of Sudan’s government. The current protests about China’s ongoing repression of Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism come down to protests about nationality and religion. But gelt out-yells guilt every time. China wields great and growing economic power. Try shopping in America exclusively for goods that are not made in China. Don’t expect serious foreign policy moves by Israel or any nation against the Asian giant. Do expect to hear more Jewish voices from individuals and organizations opposing China’s repressive policies. Be glad of that much. However the Games turn out, China won’t forever bully the world. Remember the short life of the “Thousand-year-Reich” after its glorious hosting of the Olympics. Maybe you’ll agree. Ed Stattmann
From the Chasidic Rabbi I go every day to the local hospital and help men put on tefillin and pray. This week – almost every week, and sometimes every day – I had an amazing experience. One of the patients I had been seeing for a long time was dying. He had been in and out of the hospital for about a year. Whenever possible, he was always very happy when I helped him put on tefillin. He had prayed three times a day all his life. This Wednesday his end was approaching, and a lot of his family gathered around his bed. They were crying, and I joined in. He was unconscious, but his son was happy to put on tefillin. I came back the next day, and he was still hanging on. Again his son put on tefillin, and took upon himself to do this mitzvah every day. At that moment his monitor showed that his heart stopped beating. We all started crying and recited Shema Yisrael. His heart started to work again. I then turned to the other patient in the room. He had been hospitalized for a month, and I had been attempting to persuade him to put on tefillin, but he had refused. This time, I was crying fully, and the guy in the next bed was dying. He tried again to refuse, but his wife told him he should do it and finally he agreed. Sometimes we get so involved with the vanities of life that we forget what is really important, like doing mitzvahs. But when we come face to face with death, we can more easily set our priorities straight. When we look death in the face, we realize that every moment of life is precious. We can utilize our time by doing good deeds. Rabbi Benzion Cohen, K’far Chabad, Israel
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