Leonard Cohen’s “psycho-religious” Jewish Journey, Part II

This is a brief follow up to an earlier post about Leonard Cohen’s incredible Jewish Journey and status in my books as an all around kick-ass dude.

It seems The Forward generally agrees with me that this is a man who should not be ignored. In an article this week, the Jewish paper covered an interesting incident that transpired outside on of his Radio City concerts.

Turns out that instead of a camp-out for tickets, it was the myopic and hypocritical anti-Israel throngs who were making noise outside of Radio City, in an attempt to boycott his concert (did they have tickets? Was it really a boycott if they never had tickets?) and hold a rally, all in a vein attempt to get Cohen to cancel an upcoming concert date in Israel.

I’ve got three things to say:

1. Cohen is exactly the kind of person who these protesters should be encouraging to go to Israel. He is unsatisfied with the status quo, is an ardent supporter of a two-state solution and equal rights, and regularly uses his music to rouse the populous out of dormancy. They should charter a jet and send his ass into Jerusalem right now.

2. Political ponderings aside, the Forward article makes an interesting (and very brief) statement about the differences between Canadian and American Jewry. Check this excerpt out:

Born and raised in Montreal, where he attended Orthodox day schools through high school, Cohen is one of a trio of iconic figures in the city’s intensely ethnic Jewish culture, along with late novelist Mordecai Richler and poet A.M. Klein. All three became towering figures in Canada’s general culture through writings that were deeply suffused with their Jewish experience, in much the same way as American writers such as Philip Roth and Saul Bellow. Unlike the Americans, however, the three Canadians remained deeply engaged with Judaism and the Jewish community throughout their lives.

3. Any article that includes the phrase “a live psychodrama of his psycho-religious career” is worth reading. Check it out.

Help me! And help us all! For the sake of GOOD music!

Will you help me win? Do you want to be a part of music history? Will you help us ALL win?

Click on the picture to head over to the Facebook invite, and click “I’m Attending!” and be a part of the release of this momentous album!

I will be ever-appreciative and may even provide you with cookies in exchange for your assistance (this does not constitute a bribe… I just like cookies)

Many Thanks,
J

At least I don’t have to wear a Sheitel

It’s been two weeks since I’ve shaved. The itchy, irritating, and ever-growing mound of hair protruding from my face is starting to get annoying. Friends at work are asking about it, and I’m starting to get stared at on the subway. That means something in New York. And let me just say at this point that necks should not be allowed to sprout hair; it’s more than a minor inconvenience. It’s weird.

Some have asked if my folicular growth experiment is an homage to my country’s national sport and its related superstitions at this time of year. No, it’s not. I wish it were, though. On Monday night, I was asked by one of my youth groupers if I was just trying to fit in more at a concert I’ll be seeing in June. I laughed.

So the beard growth – for those who aren’t familiar with the Jewish obsession with hair – is one of the customs related to the Counting of the Omer. I’ll say flat out at this point that I’m not mourning any ancient plague or series of destructions. That’s not why I’m growing out the beard. I’m not mourning. I listen to music during these 49 days, and I continute to be a generally happy person. Although there wasn’t a new LOST tonight. That’s a downer.

The reason I let my hair grow is that it is a physical, bodily, intimate symbol of my being a Jew (intentional use of the Present Active Participle form of the verb “to be” ). For 49 days, part of my physical being exudes Jewishness. It’s more than wearing a kippah. It’s something I can’t just take off. Now as a Jewish male, part of my physical being always exudes Jewishness… but I didn’t have any choice regarding whatever was exuded 8 days after I was born. During this time period, I make the active choice to be present with my Judaism.

And what exactly does growing a beard have to do with Judaism? Good question. Like LOST, Judaism has this funny thing with time. 6 days you shall do this, 2 days you shall not do that, these days you shall not eat, these days you shall drink a lot, during these hours you shall do this, at the time when you can see the light of the sun you shall do such and such. And then there’s the custom of not shaving for the 49 days between Pesach and Shavuot.

What’s it really all about?

For whatever reason you choose to buy into, ultimately our ancestors decided that this was a time period when people shouldn’t be engaging in celebratory actions (read: don’t shave, because we don’t shave when we’re mourning, and if we’re not celebrating, then we’re morning). My personal favourite reason for not celebrating at this time is that the period between Pesach and Shavuot comes at the time leading up to the grain harvest in Israel. Our ancestors’ lived a deeply agrarian lifestyle, and their livelyhood and existence was entirely dependent upon the grain harvest. Not wanting to jinx anything or count their sheaves before they hatched, they treaded lightly – avoiding any early celebrations, and going so far as to adopt tribal mourning customs.

So today – in this time – while I can celebrate that Trader Joe’s was not as busy as I thought it would be today and I could harvest me some kickass Mexican avocados, I can also remember that this was not always the case. In fact, for most of our history it was the exact opposite. We were dependent upon the seasons and the rainfall and the dew and the sun and the power of God, and we knew we had to be mindful of that. Time has changed…

Judaism is a religion with practices deeply intertwined with the space-time continuum; a religion that understands that the laws of nature and the laws of physics are part of the laws of halachah. Allow me to wax cliche: “A season is set for everything, a time for every experience under heaven” (Kohelet 3:1). Cliches are cliches for a reason; they’re often truisms, too. While Steven Hawking, Albert Einstein, Abraham Joshua Heschel, and Pete Seeger discover the quirks of time, it’s God who ordains them. And those are some d(D)udes you don’t want to mess with. I may not understand the mechanics of time, or know how to till the soil, but I am able to say “for this time, in this place, I am and will be reminded of the essence of my Jewishness. I can take 49 days and remember that Judaism is a religion that accesses God through the creation of the Earth, and through the experience of time.

That may sound hokey or hippie or maybe even Buddhist. Sure, I’m Jewish and always will be. It’s part of my essence, and I don’t really need to be reminded of that everyday. But it’s nice to physicalize the essential every now and then. How often to we get a chance to internalize and externalize at the same time? As my wise friend, Andy, is currently relaying to me through instant messenger: “We’re too settled in our world of technology, too desensitized. At the end of the day, I think people just need to take a moment to say “damn.’”

I’ve got an itchy beard.

“Damn.”

The Art of the Jewish Journey

This post is cross posted to the URJ KESHER Blog, where I’m also a contributor. They’ve got good stuff there, too.

Leonard Cohen – prolific songwriter, singer, musician, poet, novelist, and philosopher – is a music hero. He’s been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Canadian Music Hall of Fame, and the Canadian Songwriters Hall of Fame. He is also a Companion of the Order of Canada – our country’s highest civilian honour. These aren’t mere platitudes bestowed without good reason: his career spans six decades and is unwaveringly progressing; Lou Reed, front-man of The Velvet Underground, has labeled Cohen as being amongst “the highest and most influential echelon of songwriters.” Not bad for an observant Jew from the Montreal suburbs.

In the interest of full disclosure, I admittedly love his music, but what has impresses me most about Cohen is his desire to infuse his connection to Judaism in all that he creates. For him, Judaism isn’t just one sphere of many in his life, it is a ubiquitous reality. Listen to his music, read his poems, or watch him on stage, and it is clear that a Jewish stream flows through all he does. In his music and poetry, Cohen has incorporated Machzor liturgy, Torah ethics, and Tanakh stories (think the opening verse of “Hallelujah”). He also observes Shabbat, even while on tour. Impressive.

And yet, there are those who would accuse him of reneging against his Judaism. You see, Leonard Cohen also embraces a Zen-oriented lifestyle which – for some – is sufficient grounds to expunge him from the Jewish people. Heavy.

In his 2006 “Book of Longing,” Cohen responds to these accusations with poetic eloquence:

Anyone who says
I’m not a Jew
is not a Jew
I’m very sorry
but this is final.

The pen is mightier, indeed.

It seems to me that Leonard Cohen offers a pretty good model of pluralistic Judaism. His argument that a monolithic interpretation of Judaism is inherently antithetical to what Judaism is about is almost Talmudic in its essence. It bears a close resemblance to the oft quoted passage “shiv’im panim laTorah,” that “there are seventy faces to the Torah” (B’midbar Rabbah 13:15). Many Jews could learn from Cohen.

It also seems to me that this man would fit in well at Jewish camp – a place where Judaism isn’t just one sphere of life; isn’t just an item from 10:00-11:00 on the schedule; isn’t confined to the sanctuary or the library. Judaism at our camps is effervescent. Certainly, it manifests itself in different individual ways – music, sports, programming, environmentalism, prayer, and yes, Torah study – but it is most definitely akin to the life Cohen leads: omnipresent and profound.

At our camps, we embrace the notion that there is no monolithic definition of Judaism, or what it means to live a Jewish life. We know that the beauty of Judaism is that every Jew has the ability to find a different, unique face of the Torah and see it in their own way, even while we are all learning and living from the same Book. If Cohen went to a URJ Camp, nobody would tell him he’s not a Jew. Here, we embrace the journey that is Judaism.

So go find some of Leonard’s music or writings, and spend some time with them. Truly, there is a Jewish journey within his art.

Israel vs. The Rest, Part Three: Shitting the Way to Victory

A review of my experiences at yesterday’s pro-peace Rally, this is Part 3 in a series of posts on rallies related to what’s going on the Mideast. Read Part 1 and Part 2.

Today, as I think about yesterday’s rallies, I am certain of three things:

1. Shit is on people’s radars. The frequency of people tagging blogs with “Gaza,” “Israel,” and “Palestine,” has shot through the roof. Needless to say, not everything is newsworthy or even cogent, but at the very least, it does indicate an increased awareness.

2. People still don’t know shit. In my next post, where I focus on what a rally really is, and what it really needs to entail, I’ll argue that the vast majority of the 10,000 people at the pro-Israel “rally” don’t know much about what they are supposedly rallying for. For now, I’ll throw this out there in support of why our protest was a real rally, and the other wasn’t:

No dialogue resulted from the other “rally.” It was just a bunch of guys on a podium shouting platitudes, with a bunch of people cheering. There was no working to bring about change. It was monolithic. Everyone even looked alike, as all were given “tzeva adom” (red alert) hats to wear. The organizer informed the multitudes that these hats were “a symbol that the missiles would stop falling, and the alerts would end.” Right. Hats. Why not take the money that was spent on the hats, and donate it to assist those lives in peril in southern Israel? That’s really advocacy. That’s real activism.

At our rally, there was dialogue (albeit hostile at times), that had the express intent of bringing about a change to the status quo in the Jewish community. We may not have changed people’s point of view, but we made it undeniably clear that this is not a black and white issue. We got attention from a wide variety of media and press, including Radio-Canada, who interviewed me in French when they heard I was Canadian. They all seemed mildly surprised that there could possibly be supporters of a “middle-way.” No surprise, given that much of the media was focused on the giant stage on 42nd Street.

3. People sure can throw shit. Here’s a run-down of the colourful remarks hurled – by Jews – at me and others yesterday:

“You’re leading the way back to Auschwitz!”
“You’ll bring about another 9/11″
“You’re not Jewish! Take off your kippas! You’re not a real Jew!”
“There are no innocent civilians in Gaza!”
“Shame, shame shame!” (Repeat, ad nausea…)

Deeply hurt, I didn’t take any of these slurs personally. They hurt because they’re a stewing indicator of the inability of people to see beyond their own point of view. If there is a solution to the shit, it lies in people who are able to see beyond their limited horizons and outside of their borders.

While I’m not so sure I want to remember everything, I’ll have photos and video posted soon.

–
Next up, Part Four: Rallying the way to Victory

Identity Politics

Where was the Toronto Star three months ago, when I needed them to back me up? Now, after facing a small amount of backlash for my repeated arguments that the Conservative Party of Canada was able to win in my riding of Thornhill by attracting the votes of Jews who would vote for whichever party looked like they supported Israel more, Thomas Walkom – National Affairs Collumnist – has penned an article on ethnic voting and identity politics that backs up the very arguments I postited. Here’s an excerpt:

…In a world where no single party can command a majority of MPs, individual ridings become even more significant. And among some voters in some ridings, support for Israel is a make-or-break issue… Identity politics predates Confederation… In ridings where there is a significant Jewish population, this matters. Kent, for instance, may back Israel as a matter of deeply held principle. But if he did not, this might well hurt him in Thornhill, a riding that he narrowly won last year…

While this is pretty much a closed issue that I hadn’t intended on revisiting, the situation in the Israel and Gaza has brought it to light again. So thanks, Thomas. I couldn’t agree with you more!

Israel vs. the Rest, Part Two: Facebooking the way to Victory

This is part 2 in a series of posts on rallies related to what’s going on the Mideast. Part 1 is here.

I had originally intended my second post in this series to be a look at some organizations and people who actually have the guts to get dirty and actively involved in the causes they are supposedly rallying for. I’ll get to that later this weekend. Instead, I need to comment on another “rally” that is taking place right now, as we speak. I received an email yesterday from the World Zionist Organization – a group that I have been an active member of in the past – notifying me of a 24 hour “virtual rally” on Facebook for the citizens of southern Israel. I almost laughed a little. I though to myself “this is either going to be a forum for some pretty harsh vitriol, or it’s going to be a poorly ‘attended,’ with no discernible positive outcome.”

So I checked in on the “rally” a few minutes ago. There are about 4,000 people “attending,” and about 100 people have posted comments on the wall. I’d say that by Facebook standards, those numbers really aren’t much to be proud of; Zoolander and Hogwarts seem to be more pressing causes. I’m not surprised. What did surprise me was the breakdown of wall posts: about 70% were one line platitudes of Israel’s actions, 5% were anti-Arab rants, and one girl had the courage to post that she was leaving the “rally” because it didn’t offer any constructive purpose, aside from providing a forum for Anti-Arab bashing. And what about the other 25%? Well they thought that they were RSVPing to an actual rally, and posted comments regretting their absence. They didn’t even know it wasn’t a really rally. Sad.

The Facebook “rally” isn’t an ultimately terrible thing. It’s not evil, and if residents of Israel take emotional support from it, then I’m not entirely opposed. But let’s be clear: it’s not a good thing either, and it does have one pretty sinister aspect to it. A “rally” like this lives in the realm of fence-sitting, as it allows people to give vocal (or textual) expression to something they support, but doesn’t channel that support into an active cause. It’s apathy masquerading as passive activism. Like this week’s rally at the Israeli Consulate, the Facebook “rally” doesn’t accomplish much. But at least at the New York rally, people got up on their feet and went somewhere. Here, all people did was click a button online.

To be sure, this was part of the marketing of the “rally” as well. My email informed me that “all you have to do is log in and click ‘attending,’” and that that would be a show of my support and sympathy. Wow! Maybe the WZO and Facebook should partner and create a line of virtual bereavement sympathy cards. They could give Hallmark a run for their money.

What’s saddest of all about the Facebook “rally” is that it was being held on Facebook — arguably the greatest social networking tool humanity currently has at its disposal. Had there been any critical and constructive thinking on the part of the planners, this “event” could have channeled people to get out of their offices, and do something. It could have provided educational resources. It could have been a forum for true dialogue. It could have brought together pragmatists, progressives, and true activists from not only the Jewish, Zionist, and Israeli world, but also the Arab, Palestinian, and “other” world! Instead, a “rally” like this one only furthers the notion that the conflict in the Mideast can be viewed through black and white lenses, or through “Attending” or “Not Attending” mouse clicks. It’s all a virtual folly.

Shabbat Shalom.

Next up:
Part Three – A look at the dictionary definitions of the word “rally” and how that should be your first clue as to how these are not real rallies.

Part Four – A look at some organizations and people who actually have the guts to get dirty and actively involved in the causes they are supposedly rallying for.

Part Five – A review of how I got dirty and active.

Israel vs. the Rest, Part One: Cheerleading the way to Victory

6 years ago, during my first year at York University, it was the height of the second intifada. Both in Israel and on my campus, tensions flared, screaming matches in public places were common, and a war was waged by both sides to win over the compassion of the media. And on some days in Vari Hall, the central court on campus, if you squinted your eyes just enough, you might have actually thought you were in the West Bank. After all, they had bombed out buses, and we had bombed out buses. They had a separation fence wall, and we had a separation fence wall. They had checkpoints, and we had checkpoints. They had screaming Jews and Arabs, and we had screaming Jews and Arabs. Really, the only difference between the two locales was the lack of terrorists killing people and an armed response. Aside from that, it was war on all fronts.

As an impressionable freshman, fresh out of high school and youth group, I was only too eager to join in the protests and become an activist. I donned my IDF uniform, draped myself in an Israeli flag, and held up posters of victims of terrorism, shouting my support for Israel and feeling ever so proud. Yes, I was an activist. I didn’t tell people that at that point, I had never been to Israel or the West Bank, because it didn’t matter. I read Israel newspapers, and I watched international news. But not CNN.

This is the story of far too many members of the Jewish community in North America. Switch sides, and it’s the story of far too many members of the Muslim/Arab community in North America. The details really are the same on both sides. People – many of whom have never been to the land they are yelling about – engaged in screaming matches, fueled mostly by pent-up emotions and an unhealthy dose of propaganda from whatever news outlet is telling the story in the way they want to hear it.

Thankfully, I got tired, grew weary, and mellowed out. I saw the bigger picture. I tried to broaden my horizons. I saw through the vitriol and realized that these rallies, protests, and screaming matches really didn’t accomplish anything. For the most part, they were nothing more than a giant way to get to catharsis for each party. Whoever screamed the loudest, pushed the hardest, showed the most gruesome photos, and attracted the largest group of unimpressed observers won. There was nothing activist about these rallies, nothing influential, and nothing lasting. Sure, they made the newspapers the next day, and spawned a screaming match of words in the letters-to-the-editor section. But that was it. These rallies didn’t influence any change in policy, they didn’t win over larger groups of fence-sitters, and they didn’t raise any knowledgeable awareness among the “activists”. They were and always will be a small blip on the time-line of the conflict.

Which is why I surprised myself yesterday, as with trepidation I joined Hanan – one of our shlichim – and walked down to the Israeli consulate in New York yesterday to watch a pro-Israel/anti-Hamas rally. Not to take part. Just to watch. I wanted to see what a rally looked like after the supposed end of the second intifada. I wanted to see what a rally looked like here in New York.

And here, in the centre of the Jewish world outside Israel, I saw more of the same. Yelling and shouting; some of it filled with hatred, some of it filled with passion, but none of it filled with activism. If anybody there thought that their speeches, chanting, and anthem-singing would actually stop Hamas from raining down rockets on Israel, they were sorely misguided. If anybody there thought that their speeches, chanting, and anthem-singing would actually change US policy on Israel, they were sorely misguided. Maybe in a country or city where support for Israel wasn’t natural, a rally such as this could have had a substantive purpose. But this is New York City! The thousands of people crowding Second Avenue weren’t there to accomplish anything other than a giant feat of cheerleading. And unimpressive cheerleading at that – nobody was tossed into the air, there was no marching band, and there were no pompoms.

At the rally, Malcolm Hoenlein, the Chairperson of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations had an interesting statement to share with the crowd:

“We tell the United Nations today: Stay out. Let Israel do what it has to do.”

Mr. Hoenlein sure is a great cheerleader. He pretty much sums up my entire argument. Thanks, Mr. Hoenlein. What these cheerleaders and rallyers want most of all – more than dialogue, more than constructive discussion, more than engaging activism on the part of North American Jews – is for their side to win. They view Mideast politics as a football game, where North American Jews are cheerleaders jumping around wildly on the sidelines. They don’t want anyone else to get involved, they don’t want to hear the commentary from the pundits (people who actually know something about what’s going on), they just want to see their side pummel the other side without any interference. The UN may have many issues, including a woefully poor track record on being balanced when it comes to Israel, but at least it tries to be a representative voice of moderation. Much more than we can say for Mr. Hoenlein – a man who is supposed to represent the major Jewish organizations, and thus supposedly, the majority of organized Jews.

And unfortunately, this isn’t just a Jewish problem. It’s the same on both “sides.” Most of the Western World is content with viewing the conflict in Israel as a football match, because it means they don’t have to get hurt and dirty. They can just dance wildly from the sidelines, cheering and screaming, holding up signs and feeling as though they’re contributing to the welfare of their team.

But cheerleaders don’t get to win the Super Bowl.

*****
Tomorrow — Israel vs. The Rest, Part Two: Those who have the Guts to get Dirty

What would Moshiach Eat?

Two interesting moments at shul this morning, back in Thornhill:

1. My Rabbi paused before Aleinu to say a few words:

“Aleinu is a prayer about the coming of y’mei hamashiach – the days of the Messiah, or the Messianic age, depending on your point of view. In that light, I would like to make sure that the latkes have been put in the oven, so that they will be warm by the time we’re finished praying. You can’t have y’mei hamashiach without latkes.

On the surface, I’m sure this was just a humourous interlude for most – but it struck a great theological chord for me. That a rabbi who strongly identifies with the Reform Movement would make a reference to the coming of the messiah, and leave open the possibility that someone might accept a personal messiah, and not just the generic “messianic age” is a huge indicator of the uniqueness of the Reform Movement in Canada, and in particular, my Rabbi. It was a joke, a casual reference, not intended to be a drash or a d’var t’fillah. But in those few, brief sentences, there resonated a resounding cry of the possibility for Reform Judaism to embrace in practice the spectrum of beliefs that it purports to do so on paper.

2. Not having put much thought into it before, I noticed this morning at the start of the amidah that our congregation repeats the line “Adonai s’fatai tiftach ufi yagid t’hilatecha” chanting it twice – in Hebrew both times. While there’s nothing that says you can’t chant it twice, there’s also no specific reason to do so. One might ask: why is this prayer read twice? What is it about this specific line that merits a double reading? The answer – nothing. Then why do we chant it twice?

Before I go out in search of the actual answer, I want to posit a hypothesis…

A number of years ago, due in large part to the influence of the rabbi, our shul made a conscious decision to increase the amount of Hebrew used during services. As a result, almost the entirety of Shabbat Shacharit is now conducted in Hebrew. My guess is that on the way, the pre-Amidah line was read in both Hebrew and English, to facilitate the transition. At some point, the English was dropped, but people were accustomed to chanting it twice, so the English was just replaced with Hebrew, resulting in a doubly-chanted Hebrew line.

That’s my hypothesis. Tune in next week when I hope to have an answer from the Rabbi.

Extra Terrestrial

I had an encounter at the airport coming back to Toronto on Wednesday. For those of you familiar with my travel history, this should come as no surprise to you. I travel a lot, and as a result, I often have lots of stories to share. These stories are often delightfully fun for the listener, yet traumatic for the protagonist (me). They range from being interrogated in “the room” at the airport, to being told that the airplane “needs to be control, alt, deleted.”

Wednesday’s story was slightly different. No interrogation room, and no technical worries.

As I was going through customs in Toronto, I handed in my immigration form. On it, I had listed my home address as my home address here in Toronto – my parents’ house. This is the house I grew up in, the house where I “reside” when not in New York, and the house where I currently have a bed. It’s still home. Every time I’ve crossed the border, I’ve always listed it as my permanent residence. Seeing as my time living in New York has an explicit expiry date stamped in my passport (October 2011 I get kicked out of the USA!), New York certainly can’t be my permanent residence (although, I wouldn’t complain if it were.)

So I handed in my immigration form. Here’s the encounter that followed:

Canadian Border and Customs Agent (CBSA): “Were are you coming from, sir?”

Me: “New York.”

CBSA: “What do you do there, sir?”

Me: “I work there.”

At this point I was prepared to launch into the longwinded explanation of what I do, why it has to be done in New York, what exactly Jewish Camp is, and what the hell the Union for Reform Judaism is. I’m used it . But that didn’t happen.

CBSA: “So why did you list this address in Thornhill as your home address?”

Me: “Because that’s my home address. I’m a non-resident alien in the United States. I live there, but I don’t permanently reside there.”

CBSA: “Well that’s fine and dandy, but you don’t reside in Canada either, so you can’t list that as your home address.”

Me: “Pardon?”

CBSA: “You don’t reside in Canada. You can’t list yourself as a resident of Canada when you don’t reside here. This isn’t your permanent address.”

Me: “But when I cross in to the US, they don’t let me list my New York address as my permanent address, either… So where do I live?”

CBSA: “You’ll have to figure that out on your own. For now, I’m stamping you as a visitor to Canada.”

Me: “But I’m a citizen! I have a passport and a house in Thornhill!”

CBSA: “You don’t live there. You don’t have residency in Canada.”

Me: “Well shit.”

And with that encounter, apparently I became a drifter. An alien in the US, and a visitor to Canada. Although this seems humourous on the surface, I’m actually slightly troubled by this loophole. It creates a sub-status of individuals somewhere in between refugees and political deserters, and I am neither of those.

So here I am, an alien. Awesome.