Second-career rabbis

Israel's largest newspaper, Haaretz, has published a report on the growing trend toward second-career rabbis. They cite the statistic that 15% of the incoming class in the Reform movement is 'second-career'.

I would bet the percent in the Reconstructionist movement is more like 40% or 50%. In other words, I wasn't the only one to come up with this idea! The above picture illustrates how old we all are going to be before we actually graduate ...

http://www.blogger.com/www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/904579.html

Protest poetry

From the translation of With An Iron Pen, an Israeli collection of 99 poems by 45 Israeli writers protesting the occupation of Arab lands in West Bank and Gaza. The English translation of the book has yet to find a publisher.

Retinal Tear
by Dvora Amir

"All people are the same in their nakedness, as are houses when they become heaps of rubble."*

One could feel there the atmosphere of just before something terrifying.
A heavy engine inserted a blast into the earth.
Into my widened pupils a house collapsed,
crumbled, landing in the eye's depths.
A puzzle of frozen dryness, as on the bottom of a dying lake,
was etched into my eyes. "Retinal tear," you said,
and I know, there are some sights for which there is no repair;
an armless old man flapping his empty sleeves toward his face,
a girl looking for her notebook in the ruins.
And later, the curses of women who were torn from the walls of their home
drilled into my eye-socket, and you told me,
whoever scars a person's home--in the end his eyes will be scarred,
whoever demolishes a person's home--in the end his soul will be demolished.

Translated by Rachel Tzvia Back

*Written by Olga Friedberg in the ruins of Leningrad under siege.

Rachel Tzvia Back

We had a wonderful opportunity to attend a reading and discussion with American-Israeli poet Rachel Tzvia Back this week. She read selections from her new collection, On Ruins & Return, which tracks the cycle of violence that continue to mark the lives of both Israelis and Palestinians, as well charmed us with poignant and painful observations about our modern world. If you appreciate great poetry, definitely check her stuff out. http://www.amazon.com/Ruins-Return-Rachel-Tzvia-Back/dp/1905700377/ref=sr_1_1/105-2045045-8076407?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1192305846&sr=8-1

One highlight from the evening I'd like to share:

In 2005, the first collection of Israeli protest poems was published. Called With An Iron Pen (a quote from Jeremiah), it featured 99 poems by 45 Israeli writers protesting the occupation of Arab lands in West Bank and Gaza. The collection had a huge impact in Israel, where it shot up the best-seller list, and was talked about widely in both print and broadcast media.

One look at the book and Rachel knew it simply had to make its way into English. Although she has lived in Israel for 29 years, she writes her own poetry in English, and she teaches English literature at a college near Haifa. She set about doing the translation herself.

One-and-a-half years later, the book is ready. It is, as she explained, finalized in every way: "Every T is crossed. Every I is dotted."

So why haven't you seen it yet? Because they can't find an American publisher. No one wants to touch it with a 10-foot poll, she said, not even the small presses, or printing houses openly sympathetic to its political stance. Most especially the Jewish presses are not interested. "What this goes to show is that expressing dissent or criticism against Israel is far more accepted in Israel than it is in the U.S. Here, people just can't deal with it at all."

their sons my sons

Lost limbs again
this time in a strawberry field

Early morning January sun rises
gently talks softly to yesterday's
rain lingering still at field's edge

where perfect strawberries are ready for eating
first day of the feast festival of the sacrifice
Ishmael taken to the hilltop Isaac carried away

This time it is mother Maryam who does not know
the boys her boys woke early to a school-less day
they are racing now through the strawberry field

The red fruit is full sweet with dew and dawn
is collecting night's blankets day is waiting to spread
her arms around us all in the fields and the boys cannot

say how from where there was no sign a bomb would fall
in the early morning family field the boys do not know their legs
are bleeding their bodies lie still their limbs scattered half-boys

and dead boys none of them know how
later before the funerals after the hospital Maryam
will return to the charred and beautiful

bleeding strawberry field
to gather in her scarf scattered flowers
and flesh

[Gaza 11-1-05: bomb falls on 12 boys in a field. 7 boys killed; the 5 wounded all lost limbs]

Rachel Tzvia Back

Mordecai Kaplan's diaries

Jan. 15, 1931

I know very well what I mean by God. God to me is the process that makes for creativity, integration, love and justice. The function of prayer is to render us conscious to that process. I can react with a sense of holiness and momentousness to existence because it is continually being worked upon by this divine process.

I am not troubled in the least by the fact that God is not an identifiable being; for that matter neither is my ego an identifiable being. Nor am I troubled by the fact that God is not perfect. He [sic] would have to be static to be perfect. Nothing dynamic can be perfect since to be dynamic implies to be in the state of becoming.

-- Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan