(JNi.media) Former Reconstructionist Rabbi Brant Rosen told the Huffington post that he had intended to retire from the clergy, but saw a void he felt needed to be filled: “There are an increasing number of Jews, particularly young Jews, who don’t identify as Zionist and resent the implication that to be Jewish one must be a Zionist. We are really a community for Jews who don’t reduce their Judaism to narrow political nationalism. As far as I know there aren’t any other congregations that describe themselves in those terms.”
Regular attendees of synagogue services may be accustomed to a prayer for the State of Israel or at least the rabbi leading the congregation in a chapter of Tehillim (Psalms) for the safety of those who live in the Holy Land.
But don’t expect prayers for the State of Israel from Rabbi Rosen at his Tzedek Chicago synagogue. Rosen believes the State of Israel was founded on a “Zionist mythos” of liberation of the Jews after generations in exile, but is actually, according to him, a project of colonialist settlers obsessed with creating an ethnically uniform state that sees the Palestinian Arabs, because they are outside of the definition of Israelis and oppose the state, as a perennial problem that must be gotten rid of.
This past Yom Kippur, Rabbi Rosen gave a sermon that could have been delivered by Noam Chomsky. The introduction was dedicated to the fact that the world feels overwhelmed by the Syrian refugee crisis, and he made it very clear who he felt was to blame: “There is ample evidence that, as Americans, we are deeply complicit in the refugee crisis in the Middle East.”
He made the case that the conflicts erupting in countries which refugees are fleeing were fueled by American interference. He didn’t only lay the blame squarely at the feet of the George W. Bush administration, as many Democrats have done, but also took a swipe of Hillary Clinton’s apparent smugness about the realities of war. “In Libya, the US-led NATO bombing destroyed Qaddafi’s government. At the time, then Secretary of State Clinton joked to a news reporter, ‘We came, we saw, he died.’ Shortly after, Libya was wracked with chaos that led to the rise of ISIS affiliates of North Africa,” and the tremendous refugee crisis followed.
Rabbi Rosen mentioned that Secretary of State Kerry announced plans to take in 100,000 Syrian refugees, but dismissed such a proposal as just a “drop in the bucket” towards a solution to a problem America helped cause. He took Kerry’s characterization of America as “a land of second chances and a beacon of hope,” and, as if turning on menacing background music in a sinister, minor key, made this depiction seem not so idyllic. “Kerry’s comment, of course, expresses a central aspect of the American mythos, but one that flies in the face of history. While we like to think of ourselves as a ‘land of second chances and a beacon of hope,’ these words mask a darker reality. It is a hope that only exists for some — and it has largely been created at the expense of others. Like many empires before us, our nation was established upon the systematic dislocation of people who are not included in our dream.” The slaughter of the Native Americans and the institution of slavery built America. The devastation these two momentous crimes caused cannot be underestimated, but the issue with Rabbi Rosen’s argument is that it implies America was built only on these crimes and not at all on virtues.
At some point in his Yom Kippur sermon, Rabbi Rosen got around to the Jews, and said that while the generations of wanderings and the sense of displacement should give Jews a sense of empathy with others who have no home, Jews ran from exile right into the escapism of “Jewish success, and I dare say, Jewish privilege.” At the climax of his sermon, he turned his emphasis onto the State of Israel, referring to a term he coined in an earlier sermon, “Constantinian Judaism,” or a fusion of Judaism and state power. Rabbi Rosen discussed the notion that Israel’s founding as a “liberation movement” was a misnomer. The foundation of Israel, which was meant to end the Jewish exile, displaced the Palestinian people, Rosen said. The result has been the longest refugee crisis, with the military occupation of millions in Gaza—a territory Israel ceded to the Palestinians in 2006.
Rabbi Rosen insisted the sermon wasn’t intended for masochistic self-flagellation, or rather, not merely for that, but was geared toward inspiring teshuva, repentance and return. He said the first step towards repentance was that everyone in the congregation should own the fact that they were partially responsible for the Syrian refugee crisis and benefited from white Jewish privilege. The next step, said Rabbi Rosen, was to “engage in a process of reparations to effect real transformation and change” through “building coalitions and creating movements.” He then referred to the congregation’s mission statement:
“Through our activism and organizing efforts, we pursue partnerships with local and national organizations and coalitions to combat institutional racism and pursue justice and equity for all. We promote Judaism rooted in anti-racist values and understand that anti-Semitism is not separate from the systems that perpetuate prejudice and discrimination. As members of the Jewish community, we stand together with all people’s in the world targeted as ‘other.”
Rabbi Brant Rosen was former president of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical Association, and was a co-founder for Jewish Force for Peace and chair of its Rabbinical Council. He has been consistently outspoken in favor of the Palestinian Arabs, and in 2009 founded the Jewish Fast for Gaza, or Taanit Tzedek, with Rabbi Brian Walt. He served as spiritual leader of a Reconstructionist congregation in Evanston, Illinois, from 1998-2014. In 2008, he was picked as one the of the top 25 pulpit rabbis by Newsweek. He opened Tzedek Chicago in August 2015, which is thought to be the first non-Haredi Jewish congregation that identifies itself as non-Zionist. The non-denominational synagogue is dedicated, according to Rabbi Rosen, to “bearing witness to oppression, particularly when it’s being done in our name as Americans and as Jews.” The congregation shares space with Luther Memorial Church in Chicago.
There are traditional Jewish groups that go beyond non-Zionism to an outright refusal to recognize the State of Israel. One thinks of groups like the Satmar Chassidim or Neturei Karta, who deny the very legitimacy of a Jewish state founded on secular principles. However, it is highly doubtful that they would establish a solidarity with a congregation that does not identify itself as Orthodox-Jewish. Among liberal Jewish movements, although there is sometimes significant criticism of the actions of the Israeli government and society, the clean break from Israel and Zionism makes Tzedek Chicago unique. Rabbi Josh Weinberg, president of the Association of Reform Zionists of America, taught a course with Rabbi Rosen in 2002. He told Huffington Post, “I think you cannot cut off Israel from Judaism. The word ‘Judaism’ was the religious affiliation of people who lived in the land of Judea. All our Jewish expression, Jewish identity, everything we say in prayer books is all geared toward Israel, our nationalist existence in a particular geographic location. Does that mean that, just because we have a spiritual and covenantal relationship with the State of Israel that we always have to agree with what the State of Israel does politically? No, far from it. But I want (improving Israel) to be a project all Jews around the world participate in. And to hear about a synagogue trying to cut off those ties because of politics and policies is sad to me.”
It is the desire to be free from the taint of tribalism, Rabbi Rosen argues, that makes his break essential and inevitable. In an essay, Rabbi Rosen wrote, “I know personally how hard it is for many of us to challenge our tribal Jewish legacy, but as for me, I believe to my very core that whether we like it or not, our collective future will depend on building more bridges, and not more walls, between peoples and nations. I believe the most effective way for us to survive—the only way we will bequeath our traditions to the next generation—is to affirm a Judaism that finds sacred meanings in our connection to kol yoshvei tevel—all who dwell on Earth.” The essay went on to reject the notion of Jewish parochialism and called for an emphasis on the notion that all human beings are created in God’s image. One may ask why the two notions should be treated as mutually exclusive. Rabbi Rosen called for the notion of tribalism to be expanded to include all people who struggle and are marginalized. “We’re going to have to step from behind the walls we’ve built and understand many of our real sisters and brothers have been there all along.” He called for a 21st century Torah, and said the principle of Ahavat Yisrael, love of fellow Jews, should be understood according to the “literal” meaning of Yisroel, “One who wrestles with God” and should really be understood as “Love for All Who Struggle.” He wrote, “To throw our allegiance to those who wrestle deeply for meaning in their lives, who seek to tear down the limits of religious dogma or ideological coercion. These are the members of our tribe–perhaps our most sacred tribe.”
This would be a good point to compare Rabbi Brant Rosen’s critical views on Jewish tribalism with Paul’s views on Jewish exclusivity. Before Paul’s conversion, Christianity was just one more Jewish sect, and Gentiles who wished to join the movement were expected to convert to Judaism, which meant adult male circumcision, keeping kosher, and observing Shabbat. Paul insisted that faith in the Christ was enough for salvation and that the Torah did not bind Gentiles. Paul’s success as “Apostle to the Gentiles” drove a split between Christianity and the then fledgling rabbinic Judaism (which replaced the sect of the Pharisees). Without Paul’s campaign to forcefully sever Christianity from its Jewish core, Christianity may have remained an odd sect within Judaism, believing that their spiritual leader was the Messiah.
Paul successfully argued that Gentile converts—and by extension Jews as well—did not need to get circumcised, eat kosher or rest on Shabbat. He invented a new Torah, one in which the commandments became only spiritual, without the need to physically circumcise, purify, eat. This ideological break from mainstream Judaism necessarily brought about a political break, because without those essential mitzvot Christians could no longer marry Jews.
Since the Reconstructionist movement already disregards the laws of Kashrut and Shabbat, it stands to reason that circumcision would be the last connecting thread between it and classical Jewish halakha-law. In discussing Reconstructionist conversion, the RRC—the movement’s rabbinical college—states emphatically: “The completion of the process is marked by ritual immersion for men and women; circumcision or hatafat dam brit (symbolic drop of blood) for men (unless there exists an extraordinary physical or emotional hazard)…”
Without getting into the issue of whether or not the actual Reconstructionist circumcision meets Orthodox Jewish standards, for the sake of argument, the movement understands the role of the ritual in the formation of a Jewish identity.
Not so Rabbi Brant Rosen, who wrote in his blog: “I’ve certainly been asked by more than one congregant why, if we believe in reconstructing Jewish ritual in accordance with changing attitudes and mores, do so many of us consider circumcision off limits? It’s a fair question. As a rabbi, I’ve come to fully respect Jewish parents’ good faith decisions on this issue. I’ve already done several covenant ceremonies for uncircumcised male babies – and fully suspect that I’ll be officiating at increasing numbers of such rituals in the future.”
So that we can clearly see that the Pauline tendency to associate the universality of Judaism with the abandoning of the commandment of circumcision, Kashrut and Shabbat is repeated almost as a force of nature in the politics and spiritual entity of Rabbi Brant Rosen.
Tzedek Chicago’s website features the slogan “We’re putting Justice on the agenda.” Among core values are “Judaism without borders, a Judaism of solidarity, a Judaism of non-violence, a Judaism of spiritual freedom, a Judaism of equity and a Judaism beyond nationalism.” While many liberal Jews would find such a message appealing, Jews who have a generally positive view of Israel, 7 out of 10 according to a recent Pew Poll, would likely object to the positions taken by the non-Zionist rabbi. Chicago Tzedek calls itself non-Zionist rather than the harsher sounding “anti-Zionist,” but the Anti-Defamation League put Rabbi Rosen in the latter category when he founded Jewish Voice for Peace. According to the ADL’s website, “Jewish Voice for Peace is the largest and most influential Jewish anti-Zionist group in the United States. JVP counts among its objectives an end to US aid for Israel (because of Israel’s “repressive” policies) and the success of boycott and divestment campaigns against Israel.” JVP has lended support to campus BDS efforts and has encouraged divestment from companies that profit from “the Israeli occupation.” JVP had a particularly close relationship with Students for Justice in Palestine during a divestment resolution that was eventually voted down by the student senate. JVP doesn’t stop with supporting boycotts in the “occupied” territories, but supports measures that call for a complete boycott of Israeli goods and denies this is anti-Semitic.
The JVP feels that because it is a Jewish organization, it has “given particular legitimacy in voicing an alternative view of American and Israeli actions and policies” and the “ability to distinguish between real anti-Semitism and a cynical manipulation of that issue.” The group will often stalk pro-Israel rallies with signs that say “Not in My Name” and “This is not My Judaism.” The JVP goes beyond a criticism of Israel to a complete rejection of the legitimacy of the state, has refused to participate in Israel Independence Day rallies and has equated the Palestinian 1948-9 “Nakba” with the Holocaust.
In 2011, JVP chairperson Rebecca Vilkomerson expressed dissatisfaction with the group’s call for boycotts from only the “occupied” territories and wanted the organization to be more in line with their Palestinian allies and call for a full boycott and divestment from Israel. “That is what the Palestinians are asking for, and we respect their call … sooner or later we are going to have to stop the fancy footwork and say we fully endorse the Palestinian call … we talk about it all the time.” JVP was heavily involved with the TIAA-CREF “We Divest” campaign. Although SodaStream employed many Palestinian workers and paid Israeli wages, JVP aggressively advocated boycotting the company and organized “anti-occupation caroling” outside of Macy’s which sold the product. In addition the JVP rallied hard to try to push through a resolution by the Presbyterian Church to boycott a number of companies and was active in the TESC Divest initiative.
JVP, of which Rabbi Brant Rosen is the co-founder and Rabbinical council chair, shouldn’t really have so much influence. It is estimated to have only 500-1,000 members and at most has gathered signatures from 4,000 people. Still, given the anxiety the group produces, it gives the impression that it is much larger. Something similar to what happened with Matisyahu at a reggae festival in Spain, where the Jewish singer was struck from the lineup of performers for not “clarifying” his position on Palestine, was attempted by JVP against the Israeli philharmonic in LA, but with a more pathetic showing. JVP supported a group called “Women in Black-Los Angeles” who sent letters to each member of the Israeli Philharmonic before the concert. The letter was quite formal and polite and referred to the musicians as “representatives of the State of Israel.” It requested that they each sign a letter in support of JVP and Women in Black Los Angeles’ views on Palestine and return it three months prior to their concert in February 2007 or face a boycott. The letter closed with “Peace and blessings.” Not surprisingly, not all of the letters were returned in time, and the groups picketed the concert with signs that read “Boycott Israel.”
Meanwhile, in Evanston, Illinois, Rabbi Rosen was creating some fascinating schisms, and in 2014, after 17 years, decided to step down from his synagogue post as spiritual leader. He was not dismissed, but told the Times of Israel that the atmosphere in the congregation had become more divisive, “and it’s clear that I’m the lightning rod for that division, so I decided ten days ago to step down.” Since Operation Cast Lead in 2008, Rabbi Rosen had become more vocal in his criticism of Israel and on his personal blog, Shalom Rav, wrote, “What Israel has been doing to the people of Gaza is an outrage.” Board President David Tabak agreed with the decision: “The dichotomy of opinion did not bother me. Even the strenuous adherence to these beliefs did not bother me. What I found really disturbing is that a very warm, welcoming and accepting congregation really did have schisms developing.” When Rosen took 20 members to Judea and Samaria to visit Palestinian activists, other members wrote letters to complain, but the last straw was Rosen’s organization, the JVP’s efforts to convince the Presbyterian church to divest from Israel and his participating in pro-Palestinian rallies in Chicago during the conflict in Gaza. “I don’t know that he would have lasted as long as he did at any other congregation,” Joseph Aaron, editor and publisher of the Chicago Jewish News told the Times of Israel.
“The rabbi’s departure is both painful and therapeutic,” David Tabak told TOI, and said he welcomed the opportunity to repair broken relationships. “In other ways, he’s been with us for 17 years. He bat-mitzvahed my eldest daughter, but he won’t be available for the youngest. He’s been a fixture of our lives.” Rabbi Rosen’s synagogue put up with him much longer than even Rabbi Rosen expected. He told the Forward that when he wrote a blog post during Operation Cast Lead in Gaza in 2008, he pressed “send” and thought, “There, I’ve said it. Now what do I do?” This is what he wrote: “We good liberal Jews are ready to protest oppression and human rights abuse anywhere in the world, but we are all too willing to give Israel a pass. What Israel has been doing to the people of Gaza is an outrage.”
Rabbi Rosen insisted that those who left Evanston with him had one foot out the door, and was dismayed that, after his 2008 blog post, some congregants would let their rabbi’s views on Israel, the rabbi who performed their child’s bar mitzvah, interfere with their relationship. “I’m there for them at the most powerful times in their lives. And you bond over that. I felt like ‘Really? After all we’ve been through together? You’re going to leave over this?” In addition, he had his own son to contend with. He wrote the controversial blog post a month before his child’s bar mitzvah, and the boy warned him, “I don’t want you to mention Gaza once.”
There are no Israeli flags in Tzedek Chicago. Rabbi Rosen has written that the symbol, particularly in a place of worship, is tantamount to “idolatry.” When asked about the BDS movement, Rabbi Rosen says it is not only not anti-Semitic, but he invites anyone to “explain to me how it is rooted in anything other than values of equality and international human rights.” In an article published in The Forward, Rabbi Rosen defended those who use the term “apartheid” to characterize Israel’s relationship with the Palestinians.
To those who claim the Israel and Palestinian conflict is complicated, Rabbi Rosen’s response is that the conflict in Darfur is more complicated. The complications involved in the Israeli Palestinian issue lie within the heart: “I’d suggest that if anything is complicated for us here, it is in the possibility that we might in fact have become oppressors ourselves. That is painfully complicated. After all, our Jewish identity has been bound up with the memory of our own persecution for centuries. How on earth can we respond—let alone comprehend—the suggestion that we’ve become our own worst nightmare?”
If you’re recording momentous events in Jewish history—and who doesn’t—you may want to note that sometime in the early 21st century (late 5700s) American Jews began to drift away from their natural, even automatic connection with Israel, and that one of the trailblazers of that shift was one Rabbi Brant Rosen.