FAITH HOUSE Manhattan

A Muslim Response to a Bombing Plot This Week

~ Sammer Aboelela, one of the leaders in Faith House community of communities and contributor to this website, is Community Organizer with the NYC Community of Muslim Progressives. He also serves on the Board of Directors of Muslims for Progressive Values.

Sammer just left for Cairo, Egypt to visit his family. Couple of days before he left, he and I (Sammer and Samir) met in a coffee shop on the West Side and spend some time discussing the latest in Middle East and then dreaming, hoping, reminding one another why we are doing this community organizing thing. Soon after arriving to Cairo he heard the news about the bombing plot in New York and emailed this letter to us, his Jewish and Christian friends in New York sharing his personal thoughts. Some of the people who live near Riverdale Temple synagogue have been our guests at Faith House and we both met many of our caring and concerned Jewish friends through Marcia Kannry and The Dialogue Project.

Dear friends,

I’m sitting in Cairo now as I write this letter, at the home of relatives with whom I was reunited yesterday after nearly a decade of separation.  I went to sleep last night with a feeling of peace that I haven’t felt in a long time, and woke early this morning to the sound of the Azhan, the Islamic call to prayer, as it sung its way across the neighborhood and through the open window over my bed.

But as I was sharing hugs with my Muslim family here in Egypt, four very disturbed Muslim men were planting bombs in an effort to tear apart Jewish families in New York.  Early news reports suggest that these men were “upset about the war in Afghanistan,” so with a deranged rationale of misanthropic nihilism they somehow concluded that planting bombs in front of two Bronx synagogues and recreating the atmosphere of bloodshed, fear, and loss we experienced during and after 9/11 would provide some personal cathartic release.

I want my friends in the New York Jewish community to know how deeply I sympathize with the emotional anguish that is sure to pervade in the wake of this failed plot.  While we’re all concerned for the wellbeing of our families in this period of economic insecurity, none of us should carry the additional burden of being potential targets of violent acts of hate and terror.  You have no idea how relieved I am that you are all safe from the will of these would-be terrorists, and how concerned I am for your (and our collective) ongoing health and safety.

In all honesty, it is times like these that I wish Islam had some mechanism for excommunication.  I wish that my non-Muslims friends and acquaintances would see me, my family, my Muslim friends, and the American Muslim community as representative of Islam rather than the headline grabbing sociopaths who act in our name.  I’m so sick of finding myself ashamed of something I didn’t do, by someone I do not know, with motives I do not share, against people for whom I care.

Please know that you are not alone in the shock of this news… that good everyday people whom you have never met, and will likely never meet, as far away as Egypt are also distressed by this story.  My thoughts and their thoughts are with you.  My prayers and their prayers are for you.

Peace,

Sammer Aboelela
Organizer, New York Community of Muslim Progressives

God Is Not a White Man

~ by Samir Selmanovic

Here is the video that is as comforting as it is challenging. Any thoughts? Thank you Rev. Vince for sending this to us.

New Life

~ by Samir Selmanovic

This has been the longest winter in New York that I can remember. It is officially Spring now ... and soon we will see the blooms and blossoms. We look forward to seeing signs of life in many other ways, like being a better country, better believers, and a better humanity. New ideas, energies, and movements are still under the ground but the seeds are moist and will sprout in their time. Life always finds a way. Blessings to those of you who are Christians observing Lent and are waiting for Easter morning to break in!

Changes and new life are also underfoot in Faith House.

   1. After serving as Faith House Director I am transitioning to the role of Christian Co-Leader. This will better fit my gifts and skills, needs of my family, and my ability to work on the publication and promotion of my upcoming book this September.

   2. Bowie Snodgrass, after serving as Christian Co-Leader is now transitioning to the role of Faith House Director. She has been the heart and hands behind much of what we have done since our launch last Fall. I will assist her by working shoulder to shoulder with other co-leaders as we forge a diverse network of friends in the city.

   3. Jill Minkoff, our Jewish Co-Leader has to attend to her full time Rabbinical studies and her work at the Board of Jewish Education in New York City, so she is not staying with Faith House in this capacity. She will assist us as a supporter and advisor.

   4. We have a new face and passionate heart joining our team. Rabbi David Ingber from Romemu Congregation will serve as an acting Jewish Co-Leader. We are thrilled to sit at his feet and learn! Read his bio HERE.

   5. Rabia Gentile, a hub of kindness and calm for our team burning with the fire from above, will continue to serve as our Islamic Co-Leader.

Our seeds are in the ground. Thank you for watering us, and warming our soil by watching and praying over us.

Jewish Blessing of the Sun

~ by Rabbi Justus Baird. Rabbi Baird is Director of the Center for Multifaith Education at Auburn Theological Seminary in New York and serves on the Advisory Council of FaithHouse.

According to Jewish tradition, the Sun was in a certain place in the heavens at the exact moment when the world was created.  And every 28 years the Sun returns to that exact location. On April 8, 2009, just before the first night of Passover, the Sun will arrive again at that place, and Jews around the world will mark the moment through various prayers, rituals, and learning that we call Birkat Hahammah, the blessing of the Sun.

It is a time to think about creation, about how creation was not only a single moment - but is rather a continual process.  In the Jewish daily liturgy of the Shema blessings, we read, 'uvtuvo mehadesh bekhol yom tamid ma'aseh v'reishit,' "You renew the works of creation, continually, day by day.  Yes there was a beginning, but creation is actually a continual process of renewal.  It is a time to reflect on the question, "What is God asking you to create at this moment?"

For those interested in learning more, consult some of the excellent resources online, or visit a local Blessing of the Sun event.  For listings of both, see http://www.blessthesun.org.

Changes and Transitions

Change is in the air. It is a part of life. New births, life transitions, and growing pains are all around us. We have a new President of our nation. Our families, friends and communities are facing unprecedented challenges. It is during times like these that we are asked by life, by God, to find peace, to offer peace and to fortify our communities. Faith House Manhattan has also been going through a challenging period and I feel we have risen to the occasion and continue in our pledge to uphold and build an inter-dependent community.

Over these past few months we have moved our "home" to a new space, Intersections, a smaller and more intimate space filled with natural light and accessible to the street at 274 5th Avenue. At Intersections we will hold our Living Room gatherings every 2nd & 4th Saturday of the month. Every 1st & 3rd week, we will venture out to serve and learn from the larger community of New York City, through visits to various communities or sacred sites and by finding opportunities to serve.   

We have experienced staffing changes when our beloved Rabbi Jill Minkoff transitioned from her role as our Jewish Co-leader, as she continues her rabbinical school and takes on increasing responsibilities at the Jewish Board of Education. We were also honored to welcome into our circle the beautiful and inspired Rabbi David Ingber, who will very soon join us as our Acting Jewish Co-leader. Some of you may already know him as he has lead and participated in past Living Room gatherings, as well as organized the Hanukkah party this past December. You can learn more about Rabbi David on his website.  

With so much positive change and growth we feel blessed, though we have also been met with increasing financial challenges. In a recent interview, former President Bill Clinton beseeched the American people to continue to give to charitable causes. At Faith House Manhattan, we know first hand that with this economic downturn, charitable giving has decreased. While this is understandable, still many feel that in such a time of uncertainty, charitable giving is needed now more than ever. As you may know Faith House functions entirely on personal donations given from the community and we continue to appeal to you for your support. No amount is too small or too great. Thank you.

Love and prayers from Manhattan,

Juliet rabia Gentile
Muslim Co-leader, Faith House Manhattan

Answering Christian Critics of Faith House (Part 2): God Our Stranger

~ by Samir Selmanovic

Throughout the history of human interaction, we have been faced with the problem of the stranger. For every “us” there has to be “them.” To describe ourselves, we have to differentiate ourselves—me and you, kin and non-kin, friends and enemies, neighbors and foreigners. Without dividing the world, we would have no identity. Since the beginning of humanity, belonging to a group has been a matter of survival and, over the ages, multiple identity boundaries have been drawn—gender, tribe, race, religions, nations, possessions, political parties. The stranger is different from us.

We are engaged with strangers in inverse proportion to the distance that separates us. With globalisation, however, the distance between “us” and “them” has been rapidly vanishing. Through the media, in our workplace and in our families, the stranger has come close. Now, the other is not only “out there.” They have moved into our physical, intellectual and emotional neighborhoods. The distance that used to separate us is being abolished and our perspectives are changing.

In this new relationship, we are confronted not only with a new view of those we used to consider “outsiders” but with a new view of ourselves. They see in us what we could not recognize in ourselves and, when we let them, they tell us what we cannot tell ourselves. They have arrived into our daily lives with their beauty, wisdom, and vulnerabilities, as well as their suffering, grievances and aspirations. Like an uninvited company consultant who can see what the company cannot see, the stranger reveals. And that’s the problem of the stranger. To survive we need to protect ourselves from the stranger; to survive we need the stranger to help us see.

In the Scripture, this problem has been inversed and transformed into one of the most potent commandments for God’s people. While the Hebrew Bible commands, “you shall love your neighbor” only once, it commands no less than 36 times to “love the stranger.” For example, it demands, “When a stranger lives with you in your land, do not ill-treat him. The stranger who lives with you shall be treated like the native-born. Love him as yourself” (Leviticus 19:33). In the New Testament, Jesus insists the ultimate judgment of our acts will come from the way we treat the stranger (see Matthew 25:31-46). In the Muslim world, informed by the Quranic texts, one is expected to take a stranger into one’s home and treat him with honor and care no less than three days, even when one is considered an enemy. This may seem as nothing but a simple invitation to a virtue of neighborly love, but there is far more to this insistent call of God.

Abraham, the father of three monotheistic faiths, was ordained by the priest Melchizedek, an outsider to the covenantal family. Although a stranger, he was called “the priest of the Most High.” We have no idea where and how he became a priest before Abraham was called to follow God. Later, Abraham and Sarah were visited in their tent by three strangers to whom they offered hospitality, only to discover they were God’s angels. In what is generally known as the Christmas story, “wise men” from the East who look to the stars for answers—outsiders to the race and religion of Israel—after following an unusual star to Bethlehem, visited baby Jesus to confirm the identity of Jesus as Messiah. The entire history of people who follow God has been held together by the visits, wisdom and care of strangers, people who were not “us” but “them”—the other. Why the other? Why does God insist on speaking to his followers through strangers?

Because understanding our relationship and life with the Divine Other—the Holy One who will always confound us—is inextricably intertwined with our relationship and life with the human other—humanity that also confounds us. God comes in the form of and works through a stranger because the otherness of a stranger is akin to the otherness of God. The human other is a trace of the Divine Other in whose image the stranger has been made. The challenge God poses to us is to see God’s image in one who is not in our image. The less strangers we know the more truncated out vision of God will be.

The blessings and corrections of God come to us from the outside of the boundaries we have made for our groups, through those who can tell us the truths we cannot tell ourselves.  If we could know these truths on our own, they would not be strangers. Strangers bring not only danger to us, but also advice, solutions, beauty, opening for us new vistas into understanding the humanity, the world and God. But the blessing of the stranger goes deeper. When encountering another, we also encounter ourselves in a new way. Each encounter challenges our isolated and ingrown ideas and helps us become our better selves. And this is where the grand invitation of God to humanity lies: without knowing and caring for the other, we cannot know neither God nor ourselves.

Religion has been one of the most potent identity-forming mechanisms. It has bound people together in common purpose, joy and action as well as contributed to the prejudice, exclusion and violence toward the outsider. Now when globalization has turned our societies into societies of strangers, every religion has a chance to transcend its own limitations. We live in a society where relativism—claim that no differences really matter—is too weak to stop the aberrations of religious or anti-religious fervor. Mere tolerance of the other will not do. As Jonathan Sacks, chief rabbi of England, points out, “Only an equal and opposite fervor can do that. Healing . . . must come, if anywhere, from the heart of the whirlwind itself.”

We are all part of a larger web of life in which “the other” is part of our own life. Those not in our image are, however, in the image of God. In the past, the whirlwind of religious passion came from our experiences of being visited, corrected, and blessed by God. Today, God has not withdrawn Himself. He is calling us to a profound experience of meeting Him in a stranger. For those open to the strangers, the whirlwind never stops.

(from Signs of the Times, Australia, adapted by the author)

The Story of "God In the Other"

~ by Sheryl Fullerton (article from www.readthespirit.com)

It seems everywhere I look these days, there is talk of interfaith this or that, for or against. The impulse either to strengthen boundaries or breach them seems intense, maybe because of the general feeling that change is in the air, that an era is ending and we need new ways forward—or, as some feel, we need to do everything in our power to resist the changes.

It’s from such times of tension and uncertainty and passionate discussion that books are born. And that is the case with a new book we’re publishing next fall by Samir Selmanovic, tentatively titled for now “God in the Other.”

I remember when I first opened up Samir’s proposal. His opening statement hit me right between the eyes: “For years I’ve been talking about three monotheistic religions to nonbelievers. And here is what I hear: ‘At best, Jews, Christians, and Muslims look like three religious stooges in a slapstick comedy. At worst, they look like three brothers with hands clasped in prayer and soaked in blood.’ We have littered history with incredible amounts of stupidity, injustice and suffering. The world has simply had it with us. They are not listening anymore… Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have painted a picture of God that is difficult to admire, much less worship….Either monotheism will die, or evolve.”

When I read that, I nodded.

To continue reading The Story of "God In the Other" click HERE.

A Jew's Prayer for the Children of Gaza

This past Friday, I (Samir) went to welcome Sabbath and worship with our Jewish brothers and sisters of Romemu community on the Upper West Side. It was four hours of singing, dancing, food, tears, laughter, hugging, wisdom and compassion. Here is a prayer by Rabbi Levi Weiman-Kelman of Kol HaNeshama, Jerusalem, that we prayed together. You might want to read it in your churches, mosques, or synagogues. Imagine, you can have Christians reading a Jewish prayer for Muslims. God will hear.

If there has ever been a place forsaken, Gaza is that place.

Lord who is the creator of all children, hear our prayer this accursed day. God whom we call Blessed, turn your face to these, the children of Gaza, that they may know your blessings, and your shelter, that they may know light and warmth, where there is now only blackness and smoke, and a cold which cuts and clenches the skin.

Almighty who makes exceptions, which we call miracles, make an exception of the children of Gaza. Shield them from us and from their own. Spare them. Heal them. Let them stand in safety. Deliver them from hunger and horror and fury and grief. Deliver them from us, and from their own.

Restore to them their stolen childhoods, their birthright, which is a taste of heaven.

Remind us, O Lord, of the child Ishmael, who is the father of all the children of Gaza. How the child Ishmael was without water and left for dead in the wilderness of Beer-Sheba, so robbed of all hope, that his own mother could not bear to watch his life drain away.

Be that Lord, the God of our kinsman Ishmael, who heard his cry and sent His angel to comfort his mother Hagar.

Be that Lord, who was with Ishmael that day, and all the days after. Be that God, the All-Merciful, who opened Hagar's eyes that day, and showed her the well of water, that she could give the boy Ishmael to drink, and save his life.

Allah, whose name we call Elohim, who gives life, who knows the value and the fragility of every life, send these children your angels. Save them, the children of this place, Gaza the most beautiful, and Gaza the damned.

In this day, when the trepidation and rage and mourning that is called war, seizes our hearts and patches them in scars, we call to you, the Lord whose name is Peace:

Bless these children, and keep them from harm.

Turn Your face toward them, O Lord. Show them, as if for the first time, light and kindness, and overwhelming graciousness.

Look up at them, O Lord. Let them see your face.

And, as if for the first time, grant them peace.

Living Room Gathering - Holy Journey: Hajj and Eid al-Adha

~ by Bowie Snodgrass

Last Saturday, December 6, our Living Room gathering was an amazing and inspirational day at Faith House. Thirty-five people came for a discussion about the story of Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son in the Muslim tradition, led by Community of Progressive Muslims! Sixty-five people gathered for a Living Room, where we were blessed by Rumi's poetry performed by Tamir, Persian singing of Haale, wisdom of Andrew Vidich, and stories of Hajj shared by Maisah Sobaihi. Forty people stayed afterwards for chanting, dancing, and prayer in a Dhikr led by Shaykha Fariha al-Jerrahi.

The experience was fabulous, plus a few attendees expressed their desire to come again on the 20th for our big Channukah party after experiencing Romemu's Rabbi David's energy. A feast of food showed up and that night brought the first snow of the season! A day of overflowing, abundant hope, generosity, curiosity, and seeing the dream of Faith House further unfold before our very eyes.

To see more photos of this event and other Faith House Living Rooms, click HERE.

Talk to Your Enemy: A Wish for the New Year

~ by Amichai Lau-Lavie, Faith House Advisory Council member, and founder, executive, and artistic director of Storahtelling Inc.

Things got heated during the first televised presidential campaign when Iran was mentioned. Will the future president of the United States sit with the present president of Iran, whose hateful words towards the US and Israel just echoed in NYC? Does talking to the enemy legitimize the other’s views? 

 McCain and Obama probably didn’t know it but their debate on this issue touched on the core issue of the High Holy Days: the art of talking to the enemy.  In the classical Judaic liturgy for this season of reflection, the enemy is often described as a voice within--our personal demons, nay-saying selves that lead us into thought patterns and behaviors we later regret. How does one deal with these inner enemies? Meet them at the table, say the sages: confront, converse, come to terms--but do not avoid that which holds you back from becoming all that you wish to be in the world.

But the enemy is not just an internal voice. One of the demands this season is to confront real-life enemies and do what we can to amend conflict. Atonement with God is not possible until one is reconciled with fellow human beings, says the Talmud. Go through your address book, highlight those with whom you have unfinished business, then take the plunge and meet them at the table: initiate a conversation--no matter what. I know: easier said than done.

To give us inspiration and to make that point clear, our ancestors chose really challenging Torah stories to accompany these days.  On the first day of Rosh HaShana, we will meet Abraham and Sarah and witness as they deport Hagar and Ishmael, the no-longer-wanted-at-home surrogate mother and firstborn child. On the second day, we will accompany Isaac to the mountaintop on which his father expects to sacrifice him in the name of God. On Yom Kippur we will hear the silent scream of Aaron, the high priest whose two sons’ die while on duty, and we will spend three days inside the belly of a big fish, trapped with Jonah, a reluctant social activist.  None of these biblical tales are simple, and all point us in one direction: we need to show compassion for the other in our lives, to learn from and with the other, and even to reconcile with the other--both within ourselves, and within the full ranks of humanity. 

The Torah Service, invented by Ezra the Scribe in Jerusalem, 2,500 years ago on Rosh Ha’shana (Happy Birthday, Torah Service!)--was meant to accompany our lives with the values, found in stories, that will chart our growth and guide our way. The stories chosen for the High Holidays are no exception:  inside each and every one of them hides a coded call for awareness and action, potentially personalized by each one of us, if we pause to listen.

This year, the second day of Rosh HaShana, October 1st, coincides with Eid Al Fitr--the Holiday of the Sacrifice,  the festive conclusion of Ramadan. On this day, as Jews chant the Torah tale of Abraham binding his son Isaac, Muslims recall the Koran’s version,  in which the son bound is believed to be Yishmael. What a grand opportunity this can be for dialogue, for conversation--with preparation, but without pre-conditions--between the children of Isaac and the children of Yishmael, children in bitter conflict nowadays, but whose origin story and legacy of pain is one and the same: the raised knife of their father. How do we get beyond that pain and all those that followed and chart a peaceful and respectful co-existence?  Set the table: start with a conversation--on this New Year’s Day, and beyond. 

May this year bring us closer to having uncomfortable conversations with all respected others, inside ourselves and out in the world.  May we all have the courage to face the rage and hurt, pleas and passions, and invite ourselves to a table with our enemies, laden with nourishment for a well earned feast of peace.

Shana Tova & Eid – al - Fitr Said!

May Peace Prevail!

Live Words: A Fourfold Song

There is one who sings the song of his own life, and in himself he finds everything, his full spiritual satisfaction.

There is another who sings the song of his people. He leaves the circle of his own individual self, because he finds it without sufficient breadth, without an idealistic basis. He aspires towards the heights, and he attaches himself with a gentle love to the whole community of Israel. Together with her he sings her songs. He feels grieved in her afflictions and delights in her hopes. He contemplates noble and pure thoughts about her future and probes with love and wisdom her inner spiritual essence.

There is another who reaches toward more distant realms, and he goes beyond the boundary of Israel to sing the song of man. His spirit extends to the wider vistas of the majesty of man generally, and his noble essence. He aspires towards mans general goal and looks forward to his higher perfection. From this source of life he draws the subjects of his meditation and study, his aspirations and his visions.

Then there is one who rises toward wider horizons, until he links himself with all existence, with all God's creatures, with all worlds, and he sings his song with all of them. It is of one such as this that tradition has said that whoever sings a portion of song each day is assured of having a share in the world to come.

And then there is one who rises with all these songs in one ensemble, and they all join voices. Together they sing their songs with beauty, each one lends vitality and life to the other. They are sounds of joy and gladness, sounds of jubilation and celebration, sounds of ecstasy and holiness.

The song of the self, the song of the people, the song of man, the song of the world all merge in him at all times, in every hour.

                                ~ Rabbi Kook (1865 - 1935)

Academics and Faith House

~ by Samir Selmanovic

Ever since Professor Jon Paulien and other faculty from Loma Linda University initially inspired me to take this journey off the maps, I have met some trail-blazing academics who have added to the fire. Foremost among them is Professor Paul Knitter from Union Theological Seminary and Rabbi Or Rose from Hebrew College in Newton, MA. Their exceptional writings have been outdone by their personal, warm, constructive, and tireless spirits. We shared a teaching experience at Envision 2008 conference at Princeton University earlier this year, organized by another inspiring and spirited professor, Peter Heltzel from New York Theological Seminary. And now as more opportunities to teach together in New York City appear, we find ourselves excitedly talking at the same time about this expanse of the sacred that does not know boundaries made by humans. At times, I feel like a beginner on a very long journey, seeing no more than three feet forward, sitting down with people who have been scanning the horizon for many years.

So, I am glad to report that this week Faith House has received wholehearted endorsements from Professor Knitter and Rabbi Rose. You can find an article about some aspects of their work, as well as some information about Rabbi Justus Baird from Auburn Seminary, who is a member of our Advisory Council, in a recent article by Sojourners magazine entitled Many Mansions: Seminaries Teach for a Multifaith World.

"This is exactly the kind of inter-religious dialogue that we need today! For too long, “dialogue” has been primarily the business of academics and religious leaders. Without in any way neglecting sound knowledge and respect for tradition, Faith House seeks to bring the meeting of faiths (and non-faiths!) into our living rooms, workplaces, and local neighborhoods. It shows that people who share the same neighborhood and city can also share what keeps them alive spiritually. And in the process they become better neighbors and better citizens. My hope is that Faith House will become 'Faith Houses' all across our city and country."

Paul F. Knitter
Paul Tillich Professor of Theology, World Religions and Culture (short bio)

"Faith House Manhattan is a noble undertaking that seeks to bring together people from different faith traditions to heal our broken world. This innovative project serves as a model of creative and purposeful inter-religious collaboration."

Rabbi Or Rose
Director of Interfaith & Social Justice Initiatives at Hebrew College in Newton, MA
Rabbi Oris the co-editor of Righteous Indignation: A Jewish Call for Justice and God in All Moments: Spiritual & Practical Wisdom from the Hasidic Masters (both from Jewish Lights Publishing).

Ritual and Repetition

~ by Bowie Snodgras

A couple of weeks ago I was in Seattle for a conversation on what it means to be "Anglimergent."  Abbess Karen Ward of Church of the Apostles hosted a dozen of us to talk about the innovative "emerging" work that is happening around the country by people and communities with an Anglican bond or affection.  If you are interested in learning more about Anglimergence, check out anglimergent.ning.com. 

The night before our gathering began, I stayed at a friend's house and was reading an early-summer New Yorker magazine with a series of one-page reflections on "Faith and Doubt" when I came across one called "Counting Pages" by Allegra Goodman.  I have included the first and last paragraphs below... a beautiful reflection on being inside and just outside of religious structures.

As a young girl, I spent more time outside synagogues than in them.  Services were long, and I always found some excuse to get away.  I remember the Quonset hut where my family went to services when we first moved to Honolulu.  The building looked like a white cylinder half buried in the ground.  I remember borrowed space in a Unitarian church, an elegant old house with woven mats covering hardwood floors.  A weathered tree house sat in the branches of a large tree in the garden.  I'd leave my sandals on the grass and climb the ladder to read Wizard of Oz books.

. . . And yet, inexorably, some of my own religion rubbed off on me.  Might that be the way belief works for some people?  Not  a sudden epiphany but a long, slow accumulation of Sabbaths.  No road-to-Damascus conversion but a kind of coin rubbing, in which ritual and repetition begin to reveal the credo underneath.  As I grew older, I was drawn to poetry, and I began to study the haftarah - the weekly selection from the prophets.  As I grew busier, I began to appreciate the time away from the world.  Services became a refuge.  I did not need to rest when I was a child, because I did not work.  I did not want to come inside, because the outside world was still entirely beautiful to me.

The Other: The Origin and Meaning of the Term

~ Zane Yi was raised in the Christian tradition and is fascinated by the interplay of philosophical and theological thought through history. He teaches and studies philosophy at Fordham University, where he is a graduate student. Zane and his wife, Angela, live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

If you’ve browsed this website, you’ve most likely come across the frequent use of the term “the Other.” You may have wondered, “What does it mean? Where does it come from?”

The term has been developed by European philosophers and came into usage through the work of Jewish/French philosopher Emmanuel Levinas (1906-1995), an extremely influential, some might call quintessentially “post-modern”, thinker. Levinas fought in World War II, taught philosophy at the University of Paris, and is also known for his Talmudic scholarship. Levinas’ extensive writings are permeated with this term, but are notoriously hard to digest. Here is a short overview of the meaning of the term.

According to Levinas, when we encounter another human being, the face of the Other speaks to us and ethically obligates us.

The innovative nature of this claim becomes more evident when Levinas’ thought is compared with the thought of a Frenchman that is more familiar to many people--Rene Descartes. In his quest for absolute certainty, Descartes infamously describes his method of radical doubt. One must doubt everything—the beliefs inherited from one’s parents and teacher, and even one’s own senses!  After demolishing this shaky edifice of beliefs, one can reconstruct a stable building of knowledge built from indubitable facts.

What is the indubitable and, therefore, foundational fact? Descartes claims that he cannot doubt the fact that he is doubting. “I think, therefore I am,” he purportedly claimed. Starting from this point, one begins to work one’s way to other certain facts.

Following Descartes’ lead, many philosophers seem to think that the primary task of philosophy is an epistemological or metaphysical one. What we desire most is absolutely certain knowledge. How do I know that the external world and others exist? (Believe it or not, philosophers have spent much time and energy trying to answer this question!) With the proper method of acquiring knowledge (epistemology), one can ascertain what is real (metaphysics).

Ethics, or “practical philosophy”, is a secondary concern; “knowing” (epistemology) and “reality” (metaphysics) take priority. Once we know what is real, we can find out what is good and right. Furthermore, figuring out the good and right is reduced to the derivation of principles or maxims from abstractions. 

In contrast to this, Levinas treats ethics as a "first philosophy."  According to Levinas, we are immediately aware of the Other through our encounters with him/her (and their "face") and the Other places obligations of care and respect on us, before we begin to theoretically speculate on things, people, life, truth, ourselves, or anything at all! This obligation towards the Other cannot be reduced to linguistic formulations and commands, and transcends race, gender, or religion.

Levinas’ innovative claim is powerfully illustrated by one of my professors, Merold Westphal, who uses an excerpt from Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front to help readers understand Levinas’ insight.

The following is taken from Westphal’s new book Levinas and Kierkegaard in Dialogue (p. 3-4). (The pagination is from Remarque’s book.) 

On a foray between the trenches, I have become separated from my comrades and have found refuge in a crater filled with water and mud. Suddenly a question occurs to me. "What will you do if someone jumps into your shell-hole? Swiftly I pull out my little dagger, grasp it fast and bury it in my hand once again under the mud. If anyone jumps in here I will go for him...stab him clean through the throat, so that he  cannot call out; that's the only way; he will be just as frightened as I am;  then in terror we fall upon another, then I must be first"  (184).

As suddenly as the question arises, a body falls on top of me. "I do not think at all, I make no decision--I strike madly home, and feel only how the body suddenly convulses, then becomes limp and collapses. When I recover myself, my hand is sticky and wet. The man gurgles....It sounds to me as though he bellows....I want to stop  his mouth, stuff it with earth, stab him again, he must be quite, but [I] have  suddenly become so feeble that I cannot anymore lift my hand against him"  (185).

Overcome by the desire to get away, I move as far away as possible in the shell-hole, watching and listening.  Morning comes, and the gurgling continues, drawing first my unwilling gaze and then my whole body is a crawling journey to the side of the dying man. "At last I am beside him. Then he opens his eyes. He must have heard me, for he gazes at me with a look of utter terror. The body lies still, but in the eyes  there is such an extraordinary expression of fright that for a moment I think  they have the power enough to carry the body off with them...the gurgle has  ceased, but the eyes cry out, yell, all the life is gathered together in  them....The eyes follow me. I am powerless to move so long as they are there" (187).

When I am finally able to move, I strain some muddy water from the bottom of the crater, give it to my dying enemy, and then dress his wounds as best I can. The gurgling resumes. After the passing of an eternity, the young Frenchmen passes into eternity at about three in the afternoon. "I prop the dead man up again so that he lies comfortably...I close his eyes. They are brown, his hair is black and a bit curly at the sides. The mouth is full and soft beneath his moustache; the nose is slightly arched, the skin brownish; it is now not so pale as it was before, when he was alive. For a moment the face seems almost  healthy;--then it collapses suddenly into the strange face of the dead that I  have so often seen, strange faces, all alike" (190).

Just as the compulsion to help had followed the compulsion to flee, now the compulsion to speak takes over. "Comrade, I did not want to kill you. If you jumped in here again, I would not do it, if you would be sensible, too. But you were only an idea to me before, an abstraction that lived in my mind. But now, for the first time, I see you are a man like me. I thought of your hand-grenades, of you bayonet, of your rifle; now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. Forgive me, comrade. We always see it too late...I will write to your wife" (191).

Who is the Other in a religious context? We have many terms for her. The unbeliever. The religious fanatic. The liberal. The fundamentalist. The pagan. The goy. The kafir.

Such labels are usually based on a theoretical understanding of the Other (often a misconception), but actually prevent us from a genuine encounter with her. Sadly, in the end, this only impoverishes our own humanity and our experience of the depth and power of our own religious traditions.

We know ourselves most fully in the presence of the Other.

It’s my hope and prayer that Faith House will become a place where encountering the Other, not thinking or talking about him or her or them, is “first philosophy.”

Thank you!

The first big news is that on June 14 about sixty of us had our first preview gathering!  Next week, expect a special newsletter about the event. For information on July 26 and August 23 preview sessions click HERE.

Secondly, after four months of searching, processing a number of applications, and conducting interviews, we have found our three co-leaders!

After the last phone call of this exhilarting and exhausting process, I went to my bedroom/office, sat down and cried. They were tears of happiness and gratitude to God. And to you.

Their names are Jill, Bowie, and Rabia--yes, all women! Click below to read their bios, see their pictures, sense their dreams. They are responsible for guiding, nurturing, and growing individual members and our community as a whole.  Below is a picture taken in my apartment on May 28, 2008, when three of them met for the very first time.

Jill Minkoff (Judaism), READ BIO

Bowie Snodgrass (Christianity), READ BIO

Rabia Gentile (Islam), READ BIO

To support Jill, Bowie, and Rabia, click HERE.

Those of you who have been thinking about contributing but never took time to do it, please take time right now. Click on the link below and help us move the heart all the way across the city!

Samir Selmanovic and Lauralea Banks, New York City

God and the Human Face: A Shavuot Reflection

~ Rabbi Or N. Rose is an associate dean at the Rabbinical School at Hebrew College and the co-editor of Righteous Indignation: A Jewish Call for Justice (Jewish Lights Publishing). Rabbi Rose is a friend  and precious source of wisdom and encouragement to Faith House.

The festival of Shavuot celebrates God’s revelation of the Torah to the Children of Israel at Mount Sinai.  Throughout the ages, Jewish thinkers have interpreted this foundational narrative in a variety of ways, reflecting their beliefs and experiences.  One teaching on matan Torah (“the giving of the Torah”) that I find particularly inspiring is a sermon by the Hasidic sage, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi of Ropshitz (1760-1827), recorded in the book Zera Kodesh.*

The Ropshitzer (as he is called by Hasidim) begins his commentary by quoting his teacher, Rabbi Mendl of Rymanov, who asserts that at Sinai the people of Israel heard “nothing from the mouth of God other than the letter aleph of the first utterance—‘Anokhi, I am the Lord Your God’ (Exodus 20:2).**”   In other words, what the Israelites heard at Sinai from God was undifferentiated sound or the “sound of silence,” for a freestanding aleph makes no sound at all.  In either case, this interpretation is a significant revision of the biblical text (see Exodus 20:1), as it denies that God articulated any specific content to Israel. 

What leads this Hasidic master to reach such a daring conclusion?  He bases his comment on a statement from the book of Psalms, “One thing God has spoken but two things I have heard” (62:12).  That is to say, while the Divine-human encounter is pregnant with meaning, it always requires interpretation to determine its significance for an individual or community.

Following his teacher’s comments about the aural dimension of the revelation, the Ropshitzer inquires about what the Israelites saw at Sinai.  This is a thorny question because in the book of Deuteronomy there are two contradictory statements about the issue. Deuteronomy 4:15 states, “You saw no image when the Lord your God spoke to you,” but just one chapter later it reads, “The Lord spoke with you face to face at the mountain” (5:4).

The Ropshitzer’s resolution of this contradiction builds upon Rabbi Mendel’s insight about the aleph.  He states that while God was indeed formless at Sinai, the people did see a representation of the Divine—the letter aleph.  Where did the Israelites see the aleph?  Was it projected in the sky as a sign of God’s presence, did it take the form of a pillar of fire or a cloud of smoke?  No, the aleph appeared on the faces of the people of Israel.
 

 

Thinking visually, the Ropshitzer explains that if one deconstructs the figure of the aleph, detaching the upper and lower markings from the central line, the components can be restructured to create two eyes and a nose, the outline of a human face. 

He goes on to say that each eye resembles the letter yud (the tenth letter of the Hebrew alphabet), and the nose between them looks like a vav (the sixth letter).  And when one adds up the two yuds and the vav they equal 26 (10+10+6=26).  Amazingly, this number is the same as God’s most sacred name—Yud, Heh, Vav, Heh (10+5+6+5=26), sometimes rendered as “Yahweh” in English, but considered ineffable, unpronounceable, by Jewish authorities.

   

So what does all of this fanciful exegesis mean?  It means, according to the Ropshitzer, that “every human face” represents both the essence of Torah—the aleph—and the sanctity of God’s name—Yud, Heh, Vav, Heh.  It means that at Sinai the community of Israel came to a heightened awareness of the holiness of every person in their midst—from the prophet to the water carrier, from the priest to the wood chopper.  As the Ropshitzer points out, this notion is first articulated in the book of Genesis (1:27), where the Bible describes Adam, the first human, as a being created “in the image of God.”  

The implication of such teachings is that every person—Jew and non-Jew alike (since we are all descendents of Adam and Eve)—must be treated as a holy being, as a bearer of revelation, as a unique manifestation of the Divine.  This is the meaning, says the Ropshitzer, of the teaching in Psalm 16:8, “I set the Lord before me continually.”  In his words, “The seal of the Holy Blessed One is literally on our faces.”

May we be blessed this Shavuot to experience the great and ongoing revelation of God and Torah in the faces of all those who we encounter.

______________

* I wish to thank my teacher, Rabbi Arthur Green, for sharing this text with me.  See his brief comments on this teaching in Seek My Face: A Jewish Mystical Theology, pp. 111-112 (Jewish Lights).

**  My translation is based on that of Rabbi Lawrence Kushner in his The Way Into Jewish Mysticism, pp. 65-69 (Jewish Lights).

A Mother's Day in Darfur

~ Rabbi Or N. Rose is an associate dean at the Rabbinical School at Hebrew College and the co-editor of Righteous Indignation: A Jewish Call for Justice (Jewish Lights Publishing). I (Samir) have met Rabbi Or after he gave a lecture at the General Theological Seminary in Manhattan. Since then, he has become a precious source of wisdom and encouragement to us. Many of us can join hands with Rabbi Or and all who are working towards the end of crisis in Darfur.

An ongoing genocide rages in Darfur, Sudan. The violence has already claimed as many as 450,000 lives and displaced more than 2.4 million people. Mothers, in particular, are at substantial risk in Darfur. After five years of conflict, most women who survived the destruction of their villages now live in displaced persons or refugee camps, where it is difficult to find firewood to cook with.

With no other way to feed their families, thousands of courageous women make the choice every day to leave the camps and expose themselves to attack from roving militiamen so that their husbands (who are at an even greater risk of being murdered) and children may live. The strength and resilience of these women reminds me of Shifrah and Puah, the two midwives in the first chapter of Exodus, who courageously defied Pharaoh and intervened to save the lives of the Israelite male children.

This past Mother’s Day weekend, in synagogues and churches across the country religious leaders shared the story of the brave mothers of Darfur with their communities, and congregants responded by donating generously to help protect these heroic women. This initiative was organized by the Genocide Intervention Network, one of the leading anti-genocide organizations in the United States. Over the next six months, GI-Net will work to build propane-powered kitchens in the camps, thus eliminating the need for firewood collection.

Of course, the crisis in Darfur will not be solved by humanitarian efforts alone.  In addition to helping alleviate the pain and suffering of the millions of people languishing in camps along the Sudan-Chad border, we must also agitate for a just political solution. 

With the Beijing Summer Olympics on the horizon, Darfur activists are calling on the Chinese government, Sudan's largest oil customer, valued arms supplier and chief ally on the U.N. Security Council, to stop President Omar al-Bashir and his ruthless administration from continuing its genocidal campaign against the people of Darfur.

The American Jewish World Service, the Jewish Council for Public Affairs (JCPA), and several other social justice organizations (including GI-Net and the Save Darfur Coalition) are calling on President Bush to boycott the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games unless China takes several key steps to help end the crisis in western Sudan. The list of actions includes China ending all arms transfers to Sudan, strongly and publicly condemning the atrocities in Darfur, and demanding that the government of Sudan comply with existing U.N. Security Council resolutions and rapidly facilitate the deployment of the United Nations-African Union peacekeeping force. 

President Bush could use this opportunity to recommit himself to the Darfur cause, as his record on this issue is inconsistent at best.  What better way for an outgoing president to spend his final months in office than to dedicate himself to ending the first genocide of the 21st century.

As we reflect on the meaning of Mother’s Day and on our love for our families, let us also remember the mothers, fathers, and children of Darfur who desperately need us to take action both as humanitarians and as political advocates.  Let us act with the courage of the ancient midwives of Exodus by joining GI-Net, AJWS, JCPA, and others in helping to birth a new era of justice and peace in western Sudan. 

For New Yorkers: 92nd St. Y Event

TO REGISTER FOR THIS EVENT, CLICK HERE

TO REGISTER FOR THIS EVENT, CLICK HERE

Live Words: Work of Human Beings

In the beginning, the Creator of the Universe, deciding to make a world, drew in the divine breath in order to make room for the creation coming into being. In this enlarged space, the Creator then set vessels, and into the vessels poured the brilliance of divine light. The light was too brilliant for the vessels, however, and unable to contain it, they shattered all over the universe. Since that time, the work of human beings has been to go about the universe, picking up the shards of creation and trying to mend and transform the vessels by refashioning them in a work called 'the repair of the world.'

                                    ~ Isaac Luria, 17th Century mystical Jewish theologian

Four Stories of God

~ by Samir Selmanovic

For more than 20 years since my baptism (a ritual by which one signals publicly that one has become a follower), people have often given me the opportunity to “tell my story”—to “give a testimony,” as we Christians like to call it. Despite the fact that my life with God was not only passionate but also conflicted and complicated, the story itself was easy to tell. It was all one story. One life. One song. 

But it is not that easy anymore. Today, as early Hasidic Rav Kook did long ago, I find myself wondering which song I should sing. Should I look into my own soul and sing the song of the struggles and joys I encounter within? Or should I move beyond myself and sing the song of my people, my religion? Or maybe I should rise above my Christian story and sing a song of all songs of humanity? Or should I spread my heart still wider and sing a song with all creation?

Is the story of God a story of my own soul, a story of my religion, a story of humanity or a story of all that is? To accept all these stories as the stories of God is to imply that my religion then becomes only a part of the ultimate story of the world, not the ultimate story itself.

Orthodox rabbi David Hartman, concerned with the perennial conflict in Jerusalem, insists that different melodies of one God must be cherished: “Each group feels that its way is the only way: there is one God, therefore there has to be one truth. Christians build their story on the Jewish story and therefore feel they are inheritors of Judaism. Muslims built their story on the Bible, and therefore they feel that they are the perfect expression of monotheism. Now, we’ve got to get out of each other’s story. We can’t feel that in order for me to tell my story, your story has to end. . . . In other words, affirmation [of my story] does not require that I demonise those who are different from me. I don’t have to build conviction out of hate and fear.” If my identity depends on annihilation of other stories, I cannot really sing all four songs of God.

What if God measures our religion by the way it contributes to stories other than one’s own? What if our religions will be judged by the good they bring to their non-adherents? Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel says this succinctly: “When in the afterglow of religious insight I can see a way that is good for all humans as it is for me—I will know it is His way.”

In the same vein, The Quran reads, “Had God willed He would have made you into one religious community; but it was his will to test you in what He gave you. So compete with each other in doing good works” (Quran 5:48). Seyyed Hossein Nasr of George Washington University contends that “there’s no more crucial problem for our day than to be able to cross religious frontiers while preserving our own integrity. In fact, I think this the only exciting intellectual adventure of our times.”

So I find it hard to “give a testimony” today without offending people of my own religion whose identity depends on a divided and conflicted world. As a follower of Christ, I have grown to believe in a world that is larger than Christianity. Jesus called this larger world the kingdom of God. It is the symphony made of all stories, individual and communal, our magnanimous God is involved with in this world.

Only God is God. And Christianity is not. Nor Judaism. Nor Islam. Paradoxically, this realization about the greatness of God is a deeply Christian, Jewish and Muslim teaching.

When I pray the Lord’s Prayer, I begin with the first word, “Our . . .” (see Matthew 6:9) and I stop and ask myself, “Who do I include in this Our?” I remind myself that the story of God is bigger than my personal story, bigger than the story of my religion, bigger than the story of all humanity, and bigger than the story of all creation. In the kingdom of God, these four stories are all really my stories—all at the same time—woven together, giving meaning and life to each other.

(from Signs of the Times, Australia, September 2007, adapted by the author)

Faith House Writing Awarded

~ by Nathan Brown

An article written for the Faith House website has been awarded by a Christian publication in Australia. "A Letter to the Three Friends I Wish I Had" by Roy Naden was awarded the Hindson Award for "Best devotional article" in Record in 2007. The article was originally posted on the Faith House web site on March 6, 2007, and was reprinted in Record with permission of Dr Naden and Faith House.

The Record editors' comments with the award read as follows:

"As one of our editorial team commented after reading this article at the time of its publication, 'That article made me want to become a better person.' Now retired, Dr Naden reflected on his working years, both professionally and personally, and expressed regrets for some of the opportunities and friendships missed, before committing to using his remaining years to make the world a better place and support younger people who are now trying to live in a different way."

Dr Naden is originally from Australia, but in retirement lives in Seattle area, Washington. Record is the weekly news magazine of Adventist Church for the South Pacific region, based in Melbourne, Australia.

NOTE: To read "A Letter to the Three Friends I Wish I Had" click HERE.

What Is Jewish Renewal Movement (Part 2)

~ by Marcia Prager

NOTE: to read Part 1 of this article click HERE

In a deep way, Jewish Renewal is built on the idea that we live in a transformative moment in time, in which a new paradigm for spiritual life is being developed. Jewish Renewal draws heavily on the thought of Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, which is a loving critique of the limitations of traditional Rabbinic  Judaism and a call to continue the ongoing renewal of Jewish life in our time, as the Talmudic rabbis did in theirs.

Jewish Renewal actively seeks a relationship with God as the immanent reality that sources and suffuses all creation, and can call to us from beyond creation as well. This changes how we view the earth, the human race, the Jewish people, the relationship of human beings to the rest of creation – everything.

Jewish Renewal is neither "halakhic" (a word usually translated as Jewish Law, but which more literally means "walking the walk") nor anti-halakhic but "neo-halakhic." Just as Rabbinic Judaism involved transcending the halakhah of Temple sacrifice, so Jewish Renewal seeks to go beyond the limitations of traditional Rabbinic Judaism to forge a new halakhah in which Judaism is conscious of its place in an interconnected world. This new halakhah, for instance, includes expansion of the practice of kashrut to include ecological and ethical  criteria, a new exploration of the concept of work as it applies to both the personal and societal Shabbat, and re-examination of intimacy and intimate relationships.

Jewish Renewal has long been committed to a fully egalitarian approach to Jewish life and welcomes the public and creative input of those who were  traditionally excluded from the process of forming the Jewish tradition.

In Jewish Renewal:

- women and men are fully equal and participatory in shaping the future of Judaism;

- those who have often been marginalized in Jewish life are welcomed and honored;

- we are committed to evolving a Jewish path accessible to all who seek to explore and learn;  we welcome all who awakened to spirituality within Jewish tradition and all who experienced that awakening while traveling other paths;

- there is respect for and often learning from other spiritual paths (e.g., Buddhism, Sufi, etc.);

- music, movement, chant, meditation, dance, and drama are encouraged as ways of connecting with God & Torah;

- our gatherings for prayer and celebration are lively,  participatory and engaging of mind and heart; we approach God most often in a circle, because we find we can amplify our prayers through each other's supportive presence;

- we desire to embody wisdom rather than etherealize or intellectualize it;

- we strive to personally sense God as suffusing the world with Divinity;

- we seek to heal the earth and society through seeking peace, justice, and ecological wholeness; we engage in Tikkun Olam, the healing of brokenness in the world through mitzvot and acts of caring.

- we are committed to a deep love of Israel, striving to realize our vision of peace between the children of Isaac and the children of Ishmael in the promised land of our ancestors.

Jewish Renewal is "maximalist" about Judaism – that is, Jewish spiritual practice is undertaken joyously and Jewish values are applied in many down-to-earth life dimensions (food, money, sex, health, politics, etc.) rather than restricted to prayer, holidays, or Torah study.

ALEPH Alliance for Jewish Renewal is a national organization that came into existence to develop,  encourage and promote outreach focused on Jewish renewal. ALEPH is the umbrella for many exciting Jewish renewal projects.

Here are some important Jewish Renewal websites to keep handy:

ALEPH: Alliance for Jewish Renewal
www.aleph.org

Elat Chayyim Jewish Spiritual Retreat Center
www.elatchayyim.org

OHaLaH: Agudat HaRabbanim L'Hithadshut HaYahadut - Association of Rabbis for
Jewish Renewal
www.ohalah.org

Rabbi Marcia Prager is Director and Dean of the ALEPH Ordination Programs and rabbi of the P'nai Or Jewish Renewal communities of Philadelphia PA, and and Princeton NJ. She is the author of The Path of Blessing and the P'nai Or Siddurim for Shabbat. Her work as a teacher of Jewish spiritual practice includes developing and co-directing the Davvenen Leadership Training Institute at Elat Chayyim, and teaching widely in Jewish and interfaith settings.

What Is Jewish Renewal Movement? (Part 1)

~ by Rabbi Marcia Prager who is Director and Dean of the ALEPH Ordination Programs and rabbi of the P'nai Or Jewish Renewal communities of Philadelphia PA, and and Princeton NJ. She is the author of The Path of Blessing and the P'nai Or Siddurim for Shabbat. Her work as a teacher of Jewish spiritual practice includes developing and co-directing the Davvenen Leadership Training Institute at Elat Chayyim, and teaching widely in Jewish and interfaith settings.

I learned about Faith House recently at the Innovation Conference in Ohio. After I introduced the Jewish Renewal movement to a largely Christian audience and led them in experiencing the dynamics of Jewish spirituality, Samir closed our meeting with a prayer and a sweet poem from a Palestinian poet, Naomi Shihab Nye. For those few moments, the whole family of Abraham became one. Later, during a conversation with Samir, I felt a clear resonance with the Faith House project in Manhattan. I believe it will give fresh hope to our largely polarized Abrahamic family as it slowly unfolds along with other renewal movements. This is my report on what is happening on the Jewish side of these developments. I invite you who are Christians and Muslims that are seeking renewal in your own faiths to teach the rest of us about God’s renewing presence in your midst.

Jewish Renewal is the ongoing creative project of a generation of Jews who are seeking to renew Judaism and bring its spiritual and ethical vitality into our lives and communities, and at the same time embrace a global vision of the role of all human beings and spiritual paths in the transformation of life on this precious planet. 

Jewish Renewal is dedicated to revealing Judaism's inner spirit and nurturing our spiritual lives. In Jewish renewal we draw significant inspiration from the legacy of Jewish mystical and Hassidic traditions, which is expressed in the cultivation of traditional practices such as meditation, chanting, and davvenen' [the uniquely Jewish prayer practice that blends light body- movement, modal chant and sacred text] and the study of traditional Kabbalistic and Hasidic sources to enhance both individual and communal practice.

Jewish Renewal as a movement seeks to transform and renew the kavvanah (spiritual intention) with which we practice a revitalized and joyous Judaism.

Jewish Renewal is a phenomenon, not a denomination. It resembles Reform Judaism in some ways, Reconstructionism in other ways, and even Orthodoxy – especially Hasidism – in some important ways. But it is not a formal denomination with an organized hierarchy or structure. Jewish Renewal is a "movement" in the sense of a wave in motion, a grassroots effort to discover and re-discover the modern meaning of Judaism as a profound, self and world-transformative spiritual practice.

Jewish-renewalists see "renewal" as a process reaching beyond denominational boundaries and institutional structures, more similar to the multi-centered civil-rights or women's movements than to contemporary denominations. This renewal process is happening in Jewish music, liturgy, midrash, education, politics . . . and in all kinds of synagogues as well as havurot (smaller, less formal constellations of Jewish community), and even in secular settings.

Jewish Renewal sees itself as transdenominational, a movement that transcends the boundaries of the various Jewish denominations. Its membership includes people who are active in the Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, and Orthodox worlds as well as many others whose only religious/spiritual affiliation is Renewal.

In a deep way, Jewish Renewal is built on the idea that we live in a
transformative moment in time, in which a new paradigm for spiritual life is being
developed.

. . .

Exciting?  Learn much more about Jewish Renewal next week in (Part 2)