The Fly Fishing Rabbi

Keeping a Trout for Dinner?

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 14:31:00 +0000

I have not taken a trout home for dinner in a few years. Out of the few dozen rainbow, brown and brook trout that I brought to the net, each fish was released back to the stream and swam back into the depths. I practice catch and release fishing for the health of the streams, knowing that if we were all to keep every fish caught, the rivers would soon be empty.

The simplest reason why I release the fish that I catch is that I do not enjoy killing a fish. Rainbow and brown trout are beautiful creatures, sleek, elegant and graceful. When holding a fish in hand, I feel the power of its body and I see the beautiful dark purple spots of a brownie or the long pink stripe of a rainbow. To kill such a beautiful and graceful creature feels somehow wrong.

Perhaps I have started to view a trout as more than just a fish, like a pet. Although other cultures eat dogs as part of their cuisine, we would never want any harm to come to our canine friends. I feel a similar attachment to the trout of the stream, as if all of the rainbow, brown and brook trout are like pets that I sometimes have the opportunity to look at and hold for a few brief moments.

Despite my appreciation for trout, I have been thinking that next spring when I find myself back on the water, I may take the occasional trout home for dinner to fulfill the basic human need for food. On a fishing trip a few years ago, I kept two good size rainbow trout. I broiled the fillets with olive oil and salt, and they tasted amazing.

To eat a trout for sustenance is part of being human. In the Bible, after the great flood, God told Noah that humans could eat animals, as long as they removed all of the blood from them. The blood was seen as the very life force of the creature, and to not eat the blood was a way of respecting the animal. God told Noah and all humanity that we are able to consume other animals as long as we respect them and acknowledge their Divine source.

While the Bible acknowledges the relationship between humans and animals as hunter and prey, many of us today have lost this fundamental aspect of being human. We purchase our beef and chicken at the grocery store, packaged in cellophane, sterilized and removed from all connection to the animal from which it came. Most of us urban dwellers never kill an animal ourselves in order to eat. Instead we leave that job to others in meat processing plants far away.

Killing a trout is not easy, and I do not enjoy it. I try to end the life of the fish in a humane manner. I do not use a creel, keeping the fish alive for hours, which I consider cruel. Instead, I dispatch the trout as quickly as possible and I place it in a cooler that I bring along with me for that purpose.

The fly fishing tool used to kill a trout is called a priest, with a wooden handle and a brass end used to strike the fish. We call it a priest because you are offering “last rights” to the trout. However when dispatching a fish, we can also think of ourselves as priests, rabbis or ministers. Just as we expect our religious leaders to conduct themselves to the highest ethical standards, we too must kill the fish in the most humane way possible.

Picture: a fly fishing priest.

Ending the life of a beautiful trout is difficult and I sometimes feel guilty doing it. But it can also teach us spiritual and ethical lessons. We realize what it actually means to kill another animal and so we strive to treat animals with respect. We also remember that a trout is one of God’s creatures, a true miracle of creation. While we are able eat this fish, we do so with a heightened sense of appreciation for the trout itself, and for the world in which it lives.

No Family is Perfect

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 14:18:00 +0000

During this time of year, we wish to be near our families and share the warmth of holidays with them. We may also have mixed emotions and can encounter difficulties in being with our loved ones. No family is perfect, and often we deal with family issues during this holiday season. In Hebrew we call family mishpecha, or in Yiddish, mishpocha. Judaism offers a number of helpful ideas for dealing with mishpecha during the holidays.

Judaism teaches us that no family structure is perfect. We tend to idealize the nuclear family, believing that the perfect family gathering occurs when grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins gather together for a meal and celebration. While this vision of family life is beautiful, it is rare.

Today, many families are simply not structured in this traditional way. We have blended families from multiple marriages. Boyfriends and girlfriends of every age from teenagers to seniors join at the holiday table. In the Bible it says that we are to care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger. By this same principal, our task is to welcome everyone to our holiday tables with kindness.

The Bible is filled with many examples of unique family structures. Jacob had four wives, 12 sons and 1 daughter, making for a very complex family life. Naomi from the book of Ruth had a very difficult family life as well. She lost her husband and two sons. Her daughter in law Ruth stays with Naomi and Ruth even converts to Judaism, saying: “Wherever you go, I will go; And wherever you lodge, I will lodge; Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God.”

The measure of a family is not how closely it matches the traditional structure, but rather the warmth, love and support shared by its members. It is probably no accident then that Kind David descended from the loving family of Ruth and Naomi.

Just as no family structure is perfect, individual family members are not perfect either. It is easy judge our relatives by high standards. Yet Judaism teaches us that benefit in trying to accept our family members despite their flaws.

Beginning with Cain killing his brother Abel, one family member after another in the Torah argues, does not get along and occasionally disowns one another. In many cases, we can learn from the families in the Torah exactly what not to do to promote family unity. A hint: almost sacrificing your child, as Abraham did with Isaac, probably does not engender good family dynamics. All of these stories of difficult family dynamics from the Torah are perhaps meant to teach us that grandparents, parents and siblings are imperfect.

One way to help us accept the imperfections of family members is to look at the core of the relationship which is love. Remembering the love shared between siblings or parents and children can go a long way towards overcoming family issues.

We can all come up with a laundry list of ways that our family members caused us harm. Perhaps we will use the holidays as an excuse to bring up old grievances, or punish family members for past mistakes. Yet if we can try to remember that our family members do love us, we might find ourselves relating to them with kindness and compassion. There are families out there where there is a lack of love, and if we are fortunate to have love in our family, this is reason to be grateful.

In Jewish tradition, one of the guiding values for family life is shalom bayit, which means peace in the home. As the holiday season continues, we benefit from striving for shalom bayit and creating an atmosphere of peace, acceptance and tolerance in our homes.

Judaism does not counsel us to forgive and forget, or to pretend that difficulties in relationships do not exist. However, if we recall the love at the center of our family relationships and seek to let go of some of the difficulties of the past, we can make theses holidays into a warm and joyous time, even if they are a bit exhausting.

The Story of Hanukkah

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 13:22:00 +0000

The Jewish holiday of Hanukkah begins this year on Friday, December 11^th and continues for eight days. The word Hanukkah means dedication, and the holiday celebrates the rededication of the ancient Temple in Jerusalem.

Around 200 BCE (before the common era), Jews were living as an autonomous people in Israel under Greek rule. Twenty-five years later, Antiochus Epiphanes looted the Temple in Jerusalem and massacred Jews. He ordered a statue of Zeus erected in the Temple and sacrificed pigs on the altar, a great affront to Judaism that forbids the consumption of pork. Antiochus effectively outlawed the practice of Judaism.

A Jewish revolt broke out, led by Judah Macabee, whose name means Judah the Hammer. The Macabees defeated the Greeks and restored Jewish sovereignty. Judah then ordered the Temple cleansed and rededicated.

The primary message of Hanukkah is religious freedom. When the Greeks outlawed the practice of Judaism and desecrated the Temple, the Macabees fought back. As Jews, our history of persecution instills in us a strong sense of the importance of protecting our religious freedoms and the liberties of others as well. As Jews in America, we are very fortunate to live in a country that protects the freedom to practice one’s faith.

When the Macabees rededicated the ancient Temple, they went to relight the menorah, the ritual candelabra. There was only enough olive oil to last for one day. However a miracle occurred and that small jar of oil kept the lights burning for eight days.

Many of the customs and rituals of Hanukkah recall the miracle of the oil. We light a menorah (also called a Hanukkiah) for eight nights, adding one candle each evening. Jewish tradition teaches that the Menorah is to be lit near a window so that people walking by may see it and recall the miracle. On Hanukkah, we also eat latkes, small potato pancakes fried in oil, to recall the miraculous small jar of oil. My favorite recipe for latkes is one part onion to one part potato.

Hanukkiah or Menorah from wikipedia.org

The miracle of the oil is also a powerful symbol of hope. Just as the light lasted much longer than expected, so too have the Jewish people lived on for millennia despite difficulties and persecution. One Hanukkah song begins: “Don’t let the light go out, it’s lasted for so many years.”

The light of the menorah is also a symbol of God’s presence and enduring relationship with the people Israel. Like the light of the menorah, God has been with the Jewish people for over three millennia, helping and guiding us through good times and bad. While Jews have a relationship with God, we also believe that God cares for all people.

On Hanukkah, children play a game called dreidel, spinning a small top and wagering on which side the top will fall with gelt, chocolate coins. The four Hebrew letters on the dreidel spell out the phrase: “A great miracle happened there,” referring to the jar of oil that burned for eight days.

Dreidel from wikipedia.org

One final custom of Hanukkah is the giving of gifts to children, right after the menorah is lit. As Hanukkah falls in mid to late December each year (depending on the Jewish calendar), the holiday has become in many ways about giving and receiving gifts. As a child, I remember the excitement I felt the day of our family Hanukkah parties each year and all of the presents from my parents, aunts and uncles.

However, Hanukkah is not a time only for gifts. It is a powerful and ancient Jewish celebration that reminds us of the importance of religious freedom, and gives us hope for the future of the Jewish people.

Happy Hanukkah!

Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer

Is Thanksgiving a Jewish Holiday?

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 21:47:00 +0000

One day in late November a few years ago I ran into a congregant in the hallway of my Temple. She wished me a Happy Thanksgiving. Then she said: “Oh wait a minute. I didn’t mean to offend you. Do you celebrate Thanksgiving?” I said: “Of course! Jews celebrate Thanksgiving.” She laughed, a little embarrassed, and then I wished her a Happy Thanksgiving too.

Picture: A stream near our house in the fall

There are many ritual, historical and theological connections between Judaism and Thanksgiving. Most of the Pilgrims who celebrated the first Thanksgiving were Puritans, a branch of the Protestant faith. The Puritans strongly identified with the historical traditions and customs of the Israelites in the Bible.

In their quest for religious freedom, the Puritans viewed their journey to America as exactly analogous to the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. England was Egypt, the king was Pharoah, the Atlantic Ocean their Red Sea and the Puritans were the Israelites, entering into a new covenant with God in a new Promised Land. In fact, most of the Puritans had Hebrew names and there was even a proposal to make Hebrew the language of the colonies!

Some scholars believe that the Pilgrims modeled Thanksgiving after the Jewish holiday of Sukkot, in that they are both harvest festivals that take place in the fall. The word “Sukkot” means booths. In the time of the ancient temple, the Israeli

tes dwelt in booths during the fall harvest season, to have a place to live as they worked the land day and night. The booths also took on another theological meaning, reminding Jews of the small huts in which the ancient Israelites lived for forty years after escaping slavery and religious persecution in Egypt. Today, Jews celebrate Sukkot by dwelling in a Sukkah for 8 days.

While there are historical and ritual links between Thanksgiving and Judaism, perhaps the most important connection is the theme of religious freedom. The Puritans came to America so that they could worship without fear of persecution. Millions of Eastern-European Jews came to our country in the late 19th and early 20th century. These Jewish immigrants called America “The Golden Land.” They saw the United States as a place of opportunity, where anyone can succeed with hard work and determination. America is also a golden land for Jews because it allows us to practice our faith in freedom.

There is a children’s book, Molly’s Pilgrim, that was also made into a short film, which beautifully illustrates the vision of religious freedom bequeathed to us by the Pilgrims. In the story, Molly is a 10 year-old Jewish girl who was born in Russia. Her real name is Mushka. Molly and her parents came to America for a better life and to be able to freely practice their Jewish faith. But Molly does not fit in at her school.

While all of the other girls eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, she brings soup with dumplings. While the other girls are blond with pigtails, she has long brown hair and wears long dresses. Molly has an accent and is still learning English. In class, the girls laugh at Molly and no one will sit with her at lunch. Molly comes home from school crying, and she asks her mom: Why can’t we go back home to Russia?

With Thanksgiving coming up, Molly’s teacher gives the class a new assignment; each child is to make a pilgrim doll for the holiday. The next day, Molly arrives in class with a small brown paper bag. All of the children are showing the teacher their pilgrim dolls; with traditional pilgrim dress and blond hair.

The teacher turns to Molly and asks: “Where is your doll?” Molly opens the bag and pulls out a doll that does not look like the rest: it has straight brown hair, a long dress and a head-covering in the Russian style. Other kids start laughing. The teacher silences them and asks Molly: “Did you understand the assignment, to make a pilgrim doll?”

“Yes I did,” replied Molly. “This doll is my mother. My family are Pilgrims, because we came to American for freedom. Mother told me that there are still pilgrims today. I think that we are all pilgrims.” On Thanksgiving, we are all Pilgrims, joining together to celebrate the bounty of the land and to give thanks for our religious freedom.

The Film 2012 and The End of The World

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 16:08:00 +0000

This past weekend a new movie came out, 2012, in which human civilization will comes to an end on December 21st, the winter solstice, in the year 2012. The film is based on an interpretation of the ancient Mayan Long Calendar. The Mayan civilization, an advanced culture in what is now Mexico, was the only group in the Americas to develop writing before the arrival of Columbus.

The Mayan Long Calendar is divided into cycles of about 400 years. We are currently in cycle number 13, which is scheduled to end on December 21st, 2012. Scholars say that according to traditional Mayan beliefs, a new cycle will simply begin, no harm done. But the filmmakers have taken creative liberties, and perhaps because it is the 13th Mayan cycle, they created the idea that the world would come to an end on 12/21/12.

The filmmakers of 2012 are not the only ones who suggest that civilization may come crashing down on a certain date. When the new millennium began in the year 2000, there was talk of possible disruption and chaos. As it turned out, the biggest problem we faced was a computer error, the Y2K bug. And even that problem was fixed in time.

There have always been people, “prophets,” who predict a specific day when human civilization will come crashing down. Often predictions about the end are religious in nature. The general belief is that our corrupt human society will be destroyed and replaced by the perfect and just Kingdom of God.

Traditionally, Judaism offers its own series of beliefs about the end of civilization. Some Jews affirm that the messiah, from the line of King David, will come, ushering in a period of heaven on earth. The messiah will reestablish the Kingdom of Israel and rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem. All Jews will return to Israel to live in freedom and peace. Traditional Judaism also teaches that there will be a resurrection, so that ever Jew who has ever lived will be reborn and travel to the Holy Land.

Reform Judaism has generally rejected the idea of the messiah as a person and the belief in a future resurrection. Instead many Reform Jews speak about a messianic age. It is our task to participate in tikkun olam, repair of the world, and to fix all that is wrong with our planet and our society. We must create a heaven on earth, a messianic age for all people.

While traditional Judaism states that God will bring our human civilization to an end, today there are other theories about the end of time provided by modern science. Our universe began with the Big Bang, about 14 billion years ago. Some scientists believe the universe will keep expanding forever, as it has ever since the Big Bang. Others believe in a theory called The Big Crunch.

Eventually the universe will stop expanding and start contracting, until all matter is once again crammed into an infinitely small point. Sounds painful. The good news is that none of us will be around for that, which if it happens, will place billions of years from now.

While the Big Crunch may be in store for the distant future, I do not believe that we are headed for a 2012-like event, where our society will suddenly come crashing down due to natural disaster or Divine will. In the Biblical story of the Flood, God destroyed all living things except for Noah, his family and two of each animal. After the Flood, God placed a rainbow in the sky as a sign of God’s promise never again to eliminate all life on earth.

Yet we human beings are always on the verge of destroying ourselves. Last century, there was the immanent threat of global nuclear war. There were genocides, wars, and a Holocaust, killing hundreds of millions in total. Today, global warming, a human creation, causes sea levels to rise and could create another Noah-like flood. I do not think we need to worry about prophecies, ancient calendars, or a Big Crunch. But we do have a lot of work to do to save our planet and to improve our world, so that the human race can continue to live and to flourish.

The Diva of Din and Self-Awareness

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 17:52:00 +0000

Florence Foster Jenkins was an operatic singer who performed in New York City for decades, singing her last show at Carnegie Hall in 1944. Mrs. Jenkins portrayed herself as a legitimate opera singer yet she had little sense of pitch and could not sustain a note. People came to her concerts not to appreciate her music, but to laugh at her. They called her “The Diva of Din.”

What struck me about Mrs. Jenkins was her seeming complete lack of shame and embarrassment even when people laughed directly at her. Perhaps Florence Jenkins knew that she could not sing, but had found a way to make a living and to perform, so she went with it. Or maybe Jenkins had very little self-awareness, and simply did not realize how she sounded to others.

In the Bible, King David acted based purely on passion and emotion. David lusted after Bathsheba, a married woman. He slept with her, sent her husband out at the front of the battlefield where he died, and then moved her into the royal palace. I wonder how David could justify his actions to himself. More than likely he simply did not think about the moral and ethical sides of his decisions at all.

Self-awareness for King David came in the form of a parable from a prophet. Nathan tells the king a story about a rich man with great herds and flocks, and a poor man with one small lamb. A guest came to visit the rich man for dinner. Instead of taking a lamb from his own large flock, the rich man took the poor man’s only lamb and prepared it as the meal. Upon hearing this story, David flew into a rage against the rich man, and demanded to know who it was. The prophet Nathan replied: atah haish, you are that man. You had all the riches of Israel, and yet took another man’s wife for yourself.

The prophet Nathan reminds us that sometimes we need other people to help guide us towards self-awareness. Some people are blessed with the ability to truly see themselves as they are. But most of us are like King David, or Florence Foster Jenkins, acting without self-awareness or singing off key to a laughing audience. We need a Nathan to tell us the truth about ourselves.

To his credit, King David accepted and listened to the words of the Prophet Nathan and he admitted his guilt before God. Since self-awareness often does not come from ourselves, our task is to try to be open to the input of others. Pride, ego, insecurity, these all tempt us to ignore the advice of others and block our paths to self-awareness. Yet if we can find a way to listen when loved ones are trying to make us aware of our shortcomings, we have the potential to go in new directions in our lives.

The people who laughed at the opera singer Florence Foster Jenkins only caused harm. But the prophet Nathan reproved King David with love and kindness. In our lives, if we can offer advice and criticism from a place of genuine concern, we will surely find that others are more likely to hear us. And if we can truly try to listen to the criticism of others, even if it is not offered with perfect love, we have the potential to learn and to grow.

For more on Florence Foster Jenkins and to listen to a clip of a performance: CLICK HERE

The Religious and Secular Conflict in Israel

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 16:32:00 +0000

The current religious/secular divide in the State of Israel in part came about as a result of secular Jews ignoring their religious past. The Jews who came to Palestine in the late 19th Century were determined to leave behind their history. They arrived from Eastern Europe, where the Jews lived in ghettos, could not own land, and were beholden to Christian rulers. These Israelis wanted to create new Jews, men and women who were farmers and made the desert bloom. They saw the Jews of Europe as weak and timid. An Israeli would be strong, tan and carry a gun.

The new Jew, the sabra, would also have no need for an outdated religion, a Judaism that taught faith in God rather than fighting for yourself. Traditionally, Judaism taught that a messiah would come and lead us back to Israel, and we had to wait for God to bring us back to the Promised Land. The sabras refused to wait. They rejected the religion of their ancestors, which seemed to only promote weakness and faith rather than self-determination.

By ignoring Judaism, the early settlers of Israel planted the seeds of the religious/secular divide that exists in Israel to this day. As an Israeli, you have two choices, Orthodox or secular. Each group looks upon the other with disdain. The religious/secular conflict in Israel plays itself out in strange ways. Occasionally stones are thrown at cars that drive on Shabbat through Meah Shearim, the Ultra-Orthodox neighborhood in Jerusalem. The government of Israel also spends millions of shekels each year to allow adult men to study Judaism in a yeshiva rather than work and support their families. These payments are made to secure the votes of the ultra-orthodox politicians.

Religiously, Israel could grow and evolve if they are willing to learn from the past rather than reject it. While secular Israelis find no use for Judaism, Reform Jews realize that Judaism must change, it must be Reformed, to make it work in our 21st Century lives. That is why Reform Judaism practices equality of men and women, and teaches that we can dress and act like Americans, and yet still practice Shabbat and the Jewish holidays as loyal Jews. Reform Judaism exists in Israel and is growing, although Reform congregations represent only a small fraction of synagogues in the Jewish State.

When starting something new, it is easy to want to be rid of the past completely. The sabras wanted to be rid of the old Judaism rather than adapt and learn from it. Yet we benefit from learning about the past, and the traditions, customs and rituals of those who came before us. My hope is that over time, Israelis will begin to explore Judaism, so that they need not reject our religion, but rather find a way of incorporating a modern Judaism into their lives.

An Extinct Trout Stream

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 16:11:00 +0000

With Fall upon us, my fishing season is nearing its end as the temperature continues to drop. On a recent fishing trip in October, I felt the chill of the water on my hands and the brisk air in my lungs. I was reminded of a much earlier fly fishing outing I took in late March. It was the first nice sunny day of the impending Spring. I was desperate to be out on the water after not having touched my fly rod in months.

I traveled to a local stream where I had success in the past. It is a well-known river that is heavily fished and each year the state stocks the stream with trout in the Spring and the Fall. Wading waist deep in the water, with the air temperature in the fifties and in the shade of the trees from the shore, I was freezing. But my desire to fish overcame my frigid bones, and I began to cast my fly across the water.

A half-hour later, I had not seen a single rise on a pool that had in the past been filled with trout. I walked ashore, and hiked up to a bridge overlooking the pool, to discover that the stream was empty. Thinking perhaps that maybe the trout had migrated elsewhere, I travelled up and down the river, to other pools, and did not see a single fish anywhere.

I had arrived at this stream too early in the season, before it had been stocked. Then I realized what that meant: out of the hundreds of trout from last year that had been put in the stream, not a single one had survived over the hot summer. I was looking at an extinct trout stream, a river could not support fish year round. The water was pure and cold, the insects were plentiful; it was good trout habitat. I had not heard of a spill or disease in the area.

I assumed one of two possibilities; the water level simply got too low in the summer to support trout or the river was over fished. I suspect it was the latter. There are simply too many people who know about this stream and keep the fish that they catch. This river was not a renewable resource; each year it died and could only be reborn with a full stocking of new trout.

In the Bible, the Garden of Eden was a paradise, a place where God took care of Adam and Eve and provided for their every need. Yet, Adam and Eve had a responsibility to care for the garden as well. The Bible says that Adam was placed in the Garden of Eden to till and to tend it. Adam could eat from the trees of the garden to satisfy his basic needs.

Yet, Adam was also required to tend to the land, to care for it, and ensure that it remained healthy and fertile. The Hebrew word that means, “to tend,” shamor, also means, “to protect.” Adam, and all of the generations that follow him, are obligated to protect the earth. We can harvest the field and fish the streams, but we also must ensure that the plants and the trout will live on.

In the months since that March fishing trip, I have fished dozens of times on many rivers, streams and lakes but I have not returned to that first river. I just cannot see myself participating in emptying the trout from a stream. My first fishing trip in March motivated me to search for other rivers in my area, streams where the fish live year round. I even managed to find places where the trout spawn and reproduce each season.

A brown trout, caught and released in a year-round trout stream

I now fish streams where the trout live all year long, because when I catch a fish and release him, I know that he will not face an immanent end in a few months. Rather my fish could swim on for years and years, growing large and fat on the insects of a healthy and ever-flowing river.

Visiting a Soup Kitchen

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 14:17:00 +0000

The day after Yom Kippur, I received a phone call from one of my congregants who invited me to the Dorothy Day Hospitality House, the soup kitchen in Danbury, CT. On Yom Kippur, one of my sermons was about the importance of being an ethical Jew as well as a religious one. Near the end of that sermon, I made my own personal Yom Kippur confession: I had given to charity, but I had not visited the Dorothy Day House or held the hand of a person in need. The very next day, I got that call from the congregant, inviting me to visit Dorothy Day, and to spend an afternoon with the homeless and the hungry.

I arrived at the Dorothy Day Hospitality House at 2 in the afternoon. Dorothy Day is literally a house, a small tudor, on a rundown block in Danbury. Inside I saw two small rooms, with tables seating perhaps 30 or 40 and an open kitchen. There were half a dozen volunteers scurrying around, serving plates of salad, bowls of tomato soup and spaghetti and meatballs.

The congregant who invited me came over and warmly shook my hand. He told me that the first Thursday of the month he and his family come to prepare and serve a meal and then clean up. The Dorothy Day House is open 365 days a year and everyday they serve around 100 meals. Some of the people who come are homeless, others are the working poor and many are mentally ill. Yet everyday they can count on a good meal thanks to the kindness of churches, groups and members of my synagogue.

My congregant told me that just as important as providing food for the needy is offering them hospitality. He said that some of the volunteers on the other shifts can be unkind or short with the people who come for a meal. This defeats one of the purposes of Dorothy Day, which is to remind the homeless that they are people too and deserve a few moments of kindness in their otherwise difficult lives.

The people who come to Dorothy Day are referred to as guests. They sit down and are served as if at a restaurant. The volunteers are their waiters. I imagine that for a homeless or mentally ill person who is so often treated poorly in society, to have a place where they are served and called guests makes them feel welcomed and loved.

I took a tray of deserts and headed to each table to offer them to the guests. Everyone was very polite and said thank you. Some people wanted a different desert than what I had, so I went back to look. There were Spanish speakers who knew little English.

As I offered the desert tray to one woman, we struck up a conversation. Terry was there with her grown adult daughter. She asked me what I did for a living and I told her, after a moment of reticence, that I was a rabbi. Terry got excited and started asking me about what I do, and how long I had to study to become a rabbi. She smiled and she thanked me for being there. She said that it was so great to see a member of the clergy reaching out and caring for people in need. I smiled and thanked her.

When I left Dorothy Day House on Thursday I felt very good about my visit. I was not alone in that feeling. When I told one of my congregants what a mitzvah (good deed) it is to serve meals to the homeless, she said to me: “I do it because it makes me feel so good.”

Which Bread Do I Cast for My Sins?

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 18:39:00 +0000

Every year on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, Jews travel to a lake, stream or the ocean and cast into the water. It is not a worm or fishing fly that we send into the stream; instead we cast our sins into the water during the ritual of tashlich.

The word tashlich means “to cast out.” Each person throws breadcrumbs into the water, representing our wrongdoings. By casting the crumbs, we symbolically rid ourselves of the errors of the past and we resolve to be better in the year to come.

In honor of the Jewish New Year of 5770, I would like to republish an email that I received from many of my congregants and friends of The Fly Fishing Rabbi blog. It answers the question: Which bread do I cast for my sins?

My two favorites from below:

“For bad jokes and puns: Corn Bread.” (Definitely applies to rabbis!)

“For raising your voice too often: challah.”

What other breads and sins would you add to this list? Please comment on this blog post with your ideas!

My best wishes for happy and healthy 5770.

The Fly Fishing Rabbi

Which Bread do I cast for my sins?

For ordinary sins: White Bread

For particularly dark sins: Pumpernickel

For complex sins: Pretzels

For tasteless sins: Rice Cakes

For sins of indecision: Waffles

For sins committed in haste: Matzah

For substance abuse: Stoned Wheat

For petty larceny: Stollen

For ill-temperedness: Sourdough

For silliness: Nut Bread

For excessive irony: Rye Bread

For telling bad jokes and puns: Corn Bread

For war-mongering: Kaiser Rolls

For dressing immodestly: Tarts

For causing injury to others: Tortes

For abrasiveness: Grits

For over-eating: Stuffing

For pride and egotism: Puff Pastry

For raising your voice too often: Challah

Golf, A New Year & New Beginnings

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 12:28:00 +0000

This past summer, I played a fair amount of golf. I am the first to acknowledge that I am not very good at the game. I even had to swallow my pride this year and admit that my younger brother is a better golfer than I. One day in July on the Ridgefield Public course, I shot a 7 or 8, just terrible. I was mad at myself for the errant irons, the botched pitching wedge and the terrible putting. When I arrived at the next tee, I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. I realized that every hole is a new beginning and a new opportunity to get it right. I let go of the past and decided that I would start over. I shot a bogey that hole, which is good for me. On the golf course that day I discovered the power of new beginnings.

Jews throughout the world will soon gather together for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. On Rosh Hashanah, we are given a clean slate, an opportunity to renew ourselves and to go in new directions. Like stepping into the tee box for a new hole of golf, we too can look at this New Year as a new beginning. Perhaps we made mistakes in the past year, and we are ready to engage in teshuvah, repentance, and to repair our errors. Or maybe we are hoping to turn a new page in a friendship or relationship with another person. At this season of new beginnings, we too can contemplate ways in which to turn to a new page in our lives.

One step in pursuing new beginnings is to not idealize the past. In the Torah, the Israelites fell into this trap while wandering in the desert. Rather than appreciate God’s miracles and their salvation from slavery, they told Moses that they wanted to return to Egypt. They said that at least in Egypt, they ate fish, leeks, garlic and melons. It would be just like our ancestors to remember the food and forget the slavery! New beginnings require us to see the past for what it was, both good and bad.

Moving to Ridgefield was a new beginning for my wife and I and it took some time to get used to. We lived in New York City for nine years, first Park Slope Brooklyn and then Forest Hills, Queens. We loved the city, the excitement, the culture and being able to get a good slice of pizza at almost any hour. At first, I found myself yearning for the city with nostalgia. But as the months went by, I started to see all of the wonderful things about Ridgefield, the beautiful nature all around, the great fishing rivers nearby, the restaurants, and the pace of life which is much slower and more manageable.

I also started to remember all of the aggravations of New York City that I no longer had to deal with; a small rental apartment where the landlord could not care less about repairs, circling for parking on street sweeping days or the sound of jackhammers and garbage trucks at 8am. It was then that I realized that I had been idealizing the past, the way the Israelites were remembering their time in Egypt. When I took a moment to look at the present, I realized how good things truly are. Now Ridgefield is my home, and I am very happy here.

The same lessons of appreciating the present and not idealizing the past can help us when we seek new beginnings in our relationships with others, be they co-workers, friends or family members. On Yom Kippur afternoon, we read from the book of Leviticus where it says: “Do not take vengeance or bear a grudge against your fellow. Love your neighbor as yourself.” A grudge is the opposite of a new beginning, in that we refuse to let go of a harmful word or deed from months or even years ago.

I once knew a woman who seemed to take pleasure in holding a grudge. She was in her late 80s; her mind was sharp and her comments biting. On one Friday night, I gave a sermon about the possibility of offering forgiveness. After the service, she came up to me and said: “Rabbi, you’ve got it all wrong. A friend of mine and I have not spoken in years. She said and did some very bad things to me. I’ll never talk to her again.”

As I thought about our conversation, I was struck by this woman’s facial expression. She seemed full of pride and self-righteousness. In some strange way, she seemed to enjoy holding that grudge against her friend. Perhaps that is why the Torah tells us not to bear a grudge. When we hold on to the past, it becomes a burden that we carry with us always.

Whether on the 18^th tee, or the 18^th disagreement with a loved one, new beginnings are always possible. Rosh Hashanah reminds us that each new day offers us the potential to go in a new direction. And the greatest gift of a new beginning is hope. When we move to a new home, begin a new job, or offer a fresh start in a friendship, it is possible that our lives will improve, that the future will be better than the past.

The Israelites complained for all forty years in the desert, yearning to return to Egypt and an idealized past. But finally they stood on Mt. Nebo, overlooking the Promised Land. They crossed the Jordan River and entered Israel, beginning their new lives in a land flowing with milk and honey. As we will soon enter the new year of 5770 together, we too can pursue new beginnings with hope, seeing the possibility and potential for good in every twist and turn in the journey of life.

Why Are Jews Circumcised?

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 12:11:00 +0000

Abraham was the first Jew, living about 3700 years ago. The Bible tells us that when Abraham was 99 years old, God instructed him to circumcise himself, his 13-year-old son Ishmael and all of the men of his household. God told Abraham that all Jewish baby boys would from now on be circumcised at the age of eight days old, as Abraham would later do for his son Isaac. The circumcision was a sign of the covenant, the brit, between the Jewish people and God, which is why we call the ceremony a brit, or bris.

The covenant with God requires Jews to be loyal to God and to follow the commandments of Judaism. In return God will make the Jewish people into a great nation, give us the land of Israel and be with us, protecting us throughout history. Today, a mohel, or moyel, a Jew with special training, performs the ritual of circumcision when the baby boy is eight days old. During the ceremony, the baby is circumcised, receives his Hebrew name and is welcomed into the covenant of the Jewish people.

Over the millennia, most Jewish communities remained committed to circumcision. However, there are time periods when it fell out of favor. Jews living in Ancient Greece, over 2000 years ago, were one community that struggled with the ritual of circumcision.

Jews at the time were Hellenized, trying to assimilate into the larger Greek culture while remaining committed to their religion. At that time, Greek men participated in wrestling matches in the nude. As the Greeks did not practice circumcision, the matches made it all too plain who was Jewish and who was not. There are accounts of Jews having painful surgeries to reverse a circumcision in order to participate in these games.

In modern-day American society as a whole, circumcision has come in and out of favor. Currently, some 79% of all American men are circumcised, but newborn circumcision rates have dropped in recent decades to about 65%. Doctors continue to debate the health benefits or lack thereof from circumcision.

As reported recently in the New York Times, The Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta is considering promoting routine circumcision for all baby boys born in the United States. The purpose is to reduce the spread of HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. Studies in Africa have shown that circumcised men are half as likely to get HIV from an infected woman than uncircumcised men.

There is a non-governmental organization, Operation Abraham, whose mission is to encourage circumcision in Africa. Based in Jerusalem, Operation Abraham is a collaboration between the Jerusalem AIDS project and the Haddash Medical Organization. I found this to be amazing and inspiring; Israeli Jews promoting circumcision to help save Africans from AIDS.

As a rabbi, I officiate at a bris or a baby naming for a boy or a girl. The service for a newborn girl has all of the same rituals including the giving of the name and entering the covenant, without the actual circumcision. Just a few weeks ago, I officiated at a baby naming service for a boy, who was circumcised in the hospital. The parents, an interfaith couple, felt more comfortable having a medical doctor perform the circumcision, which is done on day 2. At the parent’s home, I blessed the baby boy and gave him his Hebrew name, welcoming him into the Covenant of the Jewish people.

From a Jewish perspective, circumcision is a vital and necessary part of our tradition. The ritual of circumcision makes the baby into a Jew. The baby boy receives his Hebrew name and now is a part of the people Israel. We have adapted certain parts of the ritual to meet the needs of our times. Yet the bris will remain a central and meaningful ritual in Judaism for every generation to come.

To read the article from the New York Times on circumcision: CLICK HERE

Large Trout and Big Problems

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 12:12:00 +0000

I am very fortunate to be able to go fly fishing for rainbow and brown trout near my home. I fish the Farmington River in Connectict and the Croton Watershed in New York. Sometimes, I hook a few fish, which I release back into the water. When I do have a trout resting briefly in the net, I make a mental note of its size: small, medium or large. That way, when I tell the story, I can be sure to lengthen the fish by a few inches.

It occurred to me that reeling in a beautiful rainbow trout can be a metaphor for dealing with problems in our lives. We face all sorts of issues each day, from work, from home and even inside of ourselves. Some are more easily overcome than others, just as the bigger trout are harder to bring to the net than small ones. Perhaps the experiences of bringing a trout to the net could offer a bit of guidance in dealing with the difficulties of life.

The smallest size trout found in a stream are fingerlings, fish that are theoretically the size of one’s finger, although usually between six and nine inches. It takes about a year for a trout to grow to this size after hatching from an egg. It is no problem to reel in and overpower such a small fish. I quickly bring the fish to the net, remove the hook from its mouth and gently return it to the stream.

Small Brown Trout caught on a beetle imitation

Many issues that we all face in life are equally simple to handle. We make a mistake a work, but find a way to fix it. We do something wrong at home like coming home too late or raising our voices when we should have asked a question or been more patient. These are the “I’m sorry” type of problems, where a genuine apology can lead to forgiveness.

The most common trout that I catch and release is a medium sized adult fish, usually about 10 or 12 inches, and weighing a pound or two. You can definitely feel the weight of the trout on the line. You have to be a little patient as you reel a medium sized fish in, not to create too much tension on the line or it will snap. Once hooked, the fish will run. Then he tires, and you can bring him into the net. Reeling in a medium size trout becomes relatively easy with practice, but you always have to be careful not to pull to hard and snap the line.

Medium sized brown trout caught and released

Reeling in a medium size trout is like dealing with a decent sized problem. We are pretty sure we can overcome it, but which if we handle it in the wrong way, it could worsen. The Pharaoh in Egypt thought that the Hebrews were a problem that he could handle. Pharaoh was concerned that the Jews could join his enemies and fight against him in a war. Rather than talk to the Israelites or try to ally with them, Pharaoh chose to enslave our people.

Pharaoh kept pulling and pulling on the metaphoric fishing line, trying to keep us enslaved, even though God brought plague after plague on Egypt, decimating the country. Finally after the tenth plague, the death of the firstborn, the line had been broken, along with Pharaoh’s will, and the king knew he had to let the people go. We benefit from learning from the experience of Pharaoh and not trying to overpower large problems in our lives. Sometimes we have to be patient, we have to negotiate, compromise and admit our mistakes.

Only a few times have I caught a truly large trout. This is a fish over 18 or so inches and weighing a few pounds. When you hook a fish this size on a fly fishing rod, you cannot possibly reel it in directly. If you pull too hard on a large trout, you will break the five-pound fly fishing line in five seconds. The only technique for bringing in large trout is to endure.

The largest trout I ever brought to the net. I released this rainbow back to its river home.

You reel in a little bit, then the fish starts swimming and you let it run. You try to keep the fish away from submerged trees and other hazards that can break the line. Then you just wait. Hopefully you can wear out the fish and bring it to the net over time. Or just as likely, the fish will find a way to break the line and escape. I have hooked three or four large trout over the years, and have only managed to bring one or two into the net.

Reeling in a large trout is like dealing with problems over which we have very little control. Some problems are so difficult that we have to simply find a way to endure and be patient, even as we continue to work to try to solve them. In Egpyt, the Israelites had to endure 400 years of slavery. During this terrible time, they found a way to maintain Judaism and pass it down from generation to generation.

In dealing with the difficulties of life, we too can take the same approach as the Israelite slaves. We can turn to our faith. We can continue each day to work to solve our problems. And sometimes we must simply endure. The Israelites were freed after 400 years of slavery. We benefit from living with this same hope. For you never know when the solution to a very large problem may appear, like a very a large trout rising to the surface and biting your caddis dry fly.

Jewish Views on the Health Care Debate

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 13:30:00 +0000

This month our country is engaged in a national debate about health care reform, being played out in town hall meetings, cable channels, blogs, youtube, emails and every other form of communication possible. The website for the House of Representatives has received so many emails that they have posted a note saying that the site is functioning slower than usual. People are passionate about all sides of this issue, as they should be, since Health Care Reform is the most important issue that our country is facing right now.

The single greatest reason for reforming the health care system is that 46 million Americans do not have health insurance. Of course, these people do get sick and when they need care, they go to the emergency room, which costs more than visiting a doctor and puts a strain on our hospitals. Also, people without health insurance often delay going to a doctor because they cannot afford it. When they finally receive treatment, their conditions could have worsened, so that they suffer more and it costs more to treat them. None of these scenarios even takes into account the underinsured.

From a Jewish perspective, the fact that 46 million people in our country do not have health insurance and therefore cannot get the same level of medical care available to others is not acceptable. The Bible teaches that we are to care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger. These three groups were the disadvantaged in Biblical times. Widows and orphans had no means of supporting themselves without a husband or parents. A stranger did not have the same rights as an Israelite and was at a disadvantage. Today’s widow, orphan and stranger are those without access to health care that the rest of us take for granted.

A second Jewish issue in the health care debate is fear of change. We delay and turn away from change because it makes us face the unknown. Change is so hard that when the Israelites were in the desert, they wanted to return to Egypt and their life of slavery! It was hot in the desert, but God was taking care of them, giving them manna to eat and providing wells of fresh water. Yet, all the people could think about was returning to Egypt and the food they ate there. Even changes that are in our best interest are often hard to accept because we feel safe with the way things are. Better the devil that you know than the devil you don’t.

However, sometimes we have to embrace change when things are truly broken. If the status quo is unacceptable, it is time to go in a new direction. It is clear that the current health care system is broken and to do nothing will only worsen the situation. Even those like us with health insurance are seeing their net paychecks go down in value, despite raises, due to escalating health care premiums. Companies, large and small, are being stifled by rising health costs. To do nothing with one out of six people without insurance and the rest of us facing continuing spiraling costs, will not turn out well.

The challenge of health care reform is in many ways similar to the difficulties that the Israelites ancestors faced in the Exodus. The Jews were freed from the degrading inequality of slavery and now we must bring equality of health to everyone. The Israelites wandered for forty years in the desert, and this debate over health care certainly feels like it has gone on for that long too. Most importantly, the Israelites made it to the Promised Land, a place flowing with milk and honey. I hope and pray that our public officials, politicians, doctors, and health workers will have the wisdom to guide us all to a Promised land of health and care for us all.

A Trip to Paris and The Jews of France

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 12:53:00 +0000

In July, my wife and I spent a week in Paris. We had an amazing trip, visiting the Eiffel Tower, the Arc De Triomphe, Jardin des Tuileries, The Lourvre, The Musee D’Orsay, Versailles and walking the neighborhoods. We feasted on steak frites, amazing wine, bread and cheese. We also had incredible desserts: chocolate éclairs, a French macaroon from La Douree and pates de fruites, sweet fruit squares from Hediard.

On our trip, we saw many sights and we also learned about the history of the Jews in France. Jews first came to Gaul, later France, over 2000 years ago as the Romans conquered this section of mainland Europe. In the middle ages, despite the challenge of anti-Semitism, Jewish religion and culture did bloom especially in the works of Rashi, Solomon Ben Isaac who lived in the 11th Century in Troyes. Printed in its own unique Hebrew font, Rashi’s Bible commentary is considered essential reading for understanding the Torah. Rashi could not make a living writing Biblical commentaries alone and so he was also a wine maker. Only in France would a great Jewish scholar produce wine for a living!

Arc De Triomphe taken from the Eiffel Tower, The Lourvre at sunset

One of the proudest moments in French history was the French Revolution in 1789, when the people revolted against the noble class and the monarchy, demanding citizenship and legal rights. At the time of the revolution, the monarchy, including Marie Antoinette, was living at the Palace of Versailles. During our trip, we took the train to Versailles. It was an incredible place with gold covered gates and opulent rooms, including the hall of mirrors where the king entertained important guests.

At Versailles: Golden Gates and chandeliers from The Hall of Mirrors

I was struck by the beautiful outdoor manicured gardens, and the grand canal, an artificial body of water built by the kings for boating parties. The canal is almost a mile long and two hundred feet wide. One of the causes of the French Revolution was anger by the peasants at paying taxes to support Versailles and such a lavish lifestyle for the nobles. On July 14th, 1789, the peasants stormed the Bastille, a fortress and prison, and overthrew the monarchy.

We were fortunate enough to be in Paris for Bastille day, July 14th. We got up early and walked to the Champs-Elysees to see the parade. We found ourselves on the side of the road. It was packed with people like the 6 train in Manhattan during rush hour. We spent a few hours of watching jets and helicopters fly overhead, and tanks, cavalry and soldiers marching by. The highlight of Bastille Day was that night, when we stood on one of the bridges of the Seine River and watched the fireworks shooting off of the Eiffel Tower.

France was the first European country to emancipate its Jews during the French Revolution. In 1789, the Declaration of the Rights of Man guaranteed religious freedom to all the people of France, including Jews. The Jews fared even better under the monarch Napoleon who was to follow. Napoleon spread the emancipation of Jews from France all across Europe, liberating Jews from the ghettos in the countries that he conquered. Napoleon even convened a modern-day Sanhedrin, an assembly of judges, to replicate the ancient Sanhedrin from the time of the Temple in Jerusalem over 2000 years ago.

Despite the gains of the French revolution and Napoleon, Jews continued to face Anti-Semitism in modern France. During the Dreyfus affair in the 19th Century, an innocent Jewish soldier was imprisoned for 12 years on a false charge of treason. In the 20th Century, one quarter of the Jewish population of France was lost in the Holocaust. Today there are approximately a half a million Jews living in France, the largest Jewish population of any Western European country.

In Paris, the Marais is the Jewish neighborhood. My wife I had heard that there is a very good falafel place, L’as Du Felafel, among the kosher restaurants in the neighborhood. We arrived on a Sunday and the line was long. An Israeli came up to me and started speaking to me in French. I replied in Hebrew. I learned that he had come to Paris after his army service four years ago and I told him that I was a rabbi in Connecticut in America.

When we arrived at the window, I ordered a chicken and turkey schwarma in a pita. It was amazingly good, and I said that this restaurant was in the top five falafel that we have eaten anywhere in the world, including Israel. The restaurant surely lived up to its slogan posted on its sign: Toujours imite, jamais egale: Always imitated, never equaled!

In Paris, we saw great art, ate incredibly well, and I learned about the Jewish experience in France over the last two millennia. On the last night of our trip, we went to a small bistro for dinner. During dinner, I must have mentioned something about being a rabbi. The couple sitting next to us turned and introduced themselves. They are from Wesport, CT, about a half hour from where we live in Ridgefield, and they are very involved in their synagogue and the Jewish community! We had a nice dinner together and spoke about our adventures in France. As we left the restaurant, knowing that the next day we would leave Paris, I realized once again that it is a small world, and that wherever you are, there is a Jewish community, or sometimes even a Jewish neighbor, there for you.

A Fishing Park in Israel

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 13:56:00 +0000

This week, I received a report from Howie in Jerusalem, describing his fishing trip to Dag-Bakfar (A Fish in the Village) fishing park located in the north of Israel. Thank you, Howie for this information and for the great pictures!

Dear Rabbi Eisenkramer,

I am pleased to report back to you about our successful fishing outing this past weekend at Dag-Bakfar Fishing Park in the Yokneam Moshava.

Our ninety-minute drive north from Jerusalem via Highway #6 to Highway #7 went very smoothly. The ninety-minute drive will soon be reduced by at least thirty minutes when the new extension of Highway 6 opens up shortly.

The Dag-Bakfar Fishing Park is located in the Jezreel Valley - עמק יזרעאל. It is a great first time fishing spot for anglers of all ages wishing to enjoy this recreational past time.

The Yokneam Moshav facility offers all the services one needs to catch their first big one. The friendly hosts greet you in the language of your choice. The admission for groups of four can be reduced by visiting their website and downloading a free admission coupon for one member of your group of four.

Our fishing party consisted of three adults and two children. As the only one with previous fishing experience I happily spent most of our five hour visit helping untangle lines, putting fresh bait on the hooks and making sure everyone was happy.

There were about twenty fishermen trying their luck around the lake. Chairs, tables and lots of shaded areas are provided for you. Everyone seemed to have their own gear. I used my regular rods. I did notice that the more successful anglers used 3 meter and 5 meter poles to cast even further into the lake. These longer poles could be rented from the fishing shop at a minimal price.

My son and his friends had a great time. We lost a few large ones when they were being brought in. We were using a ten pound test line. The lake was stocked with some pretty healthy looking Carp and a couple of unknown species to me (I thought I may have seen some cat fish?).

We caught and released our catch. The fish looked clean and easily ready for consumption. You are able to select live fish from a special holding tank and have the Daf-Bakfar staff clean it for you. I did notice some guest’s bring their catch in the recreational park beside the facility.

We had a great time at Dag-Bakfar. It was my first experience at a fishing park in Israel. They cater to all ages and groups. Overnight facilities are available at Dag-Bakfar, reservations are recommended.

I would also suggest scheduling some time to visit the surrounding mountains in עמק יזרעאל Valley of Jezreel. We concluded the day with a jeep ride through Mount Carmel. The road was difficult to navigate but worthwhile. We stopped off at a local Druze Village near Haifa for some local food and headed back south to Jerusalem.

Pictures: Mt. Carmel

Happy fishing,
Shavuah Tov (A Good Week),
Howie in Jerusalem

Dag Bakfar Fishing Park: www.dag-bakfar.com/en/park.shtml
The Jezreel Valey in Israel from Google Maps: CLICK HERE

More Fishing in Israel on The Fly Fishing Rabbi:
1. Fishing in Israel Part 1: Salt Water
2. Fishing in Israel Part 2: Fresh Water
3. Fishing in Israel Part 3: Tackle Shops, Fishing Boats and Highlights

The Cairo Speech and Israel

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 18:09:00 +0000

In Cairo, President Obama reached out to both Israelis and Palestinians, Jews and Arabs. He called for a new beginning in the relationship between the US and the Muslim world. He also said that the bond between the US and Israel is unbreakable. President Obama spoke out against any attempts at Holocaust denial. Our President will clearly be a supporter of Israel.

The President also spoke of the suffering of the Palestinian people. He pointed to the expansion of the settlements in the West Bank as a major roadblock in striving towards peace. President Obama called for the Palestinians to renounce violence and terror and for Israel to stop all settlement construction, with the goal of creating two states, Israel and Palestine, living side by side in peace.

President Obama’s goals of the end of Palestinian violence and Israeli settlement construction are positions that are shared by the majority of American Jews, including the leadership of the Reform Movement. I too believe that the solution to the conflict is to stop the violence and the settlements and work towards two independent states, Israel and Palestine, living side by side. The problem is that there is little to no chance of either the renunciation of Palestinian violence or the cessation of Israeli settlements at this time.

The West Bank and Gaza Strip are currently independent of each other, with the Palestinian Authority ruling the West Bank and Hamas leading Gaza. Hamas, a terrorist organization that uses suicide bombers, does not recognize Israel’s right to exist and its charter calls for the destruction of the Jewish state. In addition, Hamas and the Palestinian Authority, which holds a more moderate position towards Israel, cannot get along and there are occasional outbreaks of violence between Palestinians. I cannot see Hamas renouncing violence and coming to the Peace table.

At the same time, the chances that Israel will freeze the construction of Settlements in the West Bank is slim with the recent election of Benjamin Netanyahu as Prime Minister of Israel. Netanyahu takes a hard line towards the Palestinians and supports the growth of settlements as necessary for Israel’s security.

Clouding the prospects of peace even further is Iran and their drive for nuclear weapons and influence in the Middle East. Iran seems to want to further the Israeli-Palestinian conflict by providing funds and weapons for Hamas and Hezbollah, a terrorist organization in Lebanon which also wishes for the destruction of Israel. With the reelection of Ahmadinejad, Iran seems bent on continuing its hard-line path.

Since Palestinian terror groups will not renounce violence, and Israel will not stop building settlements, what path can we go down in search of Middle East peace? A recent editorial in Haaretz, the Israeli newspaper, called for the completion of the Separation Fence, a wall being built between Israel and the West Bank.

Construction of the fence began in 2002 after an outbreak of Palestinian violence, with the theory that if the two people could not live together, they needed to be separated with a wall. In some places, the wall is 25 feet high, and includes razor wire and guard posts. Building a barrier between warring peoples is a strategy that worked in Berlin for decades. The separation fence could give Israelis and Palestinians time to “cool off” and perhaps someday it could come down, as did the Berlin Wall.

Begun in 2002, the separation fence today is only 60 percent completed. Since November 2007, almost all work related to the fence has come to a halt. There are many reasons for the stoppage in construction including a lull in terrorism and violence in Israel, making the need for the wall seem less pressing and the meltdown of the global economy and lack of funds. In addition, the gaps in the wall are in disputed areas between Israelis and Palestinians, for example near Jerusalem, so that any new construction may lead to an outbreak of violence.

While I certainly understand the desire not to provoke violence at a time of relative peace, I believe that the long-term solution to the conflict lies in completing the separation fence. With the Palestinians unable for decades to find real leadership and a government that will develop their economy or infrastructure, Israel is best served by separating from the Palestinians. A physical wall is necessary to accomplish this.

President Obama’s speech showed equal support for Israel and the Palestinians and did much to improve America’s image in Arab countries. But to move towards peace, our best bet is separation. I hope that the Israeli government will move forward in completing the security fence.

A 13 year old Rejects Chemotherapy

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Sun, 31 May 2009 12:21:00 +0000

On May 18th, Coleen Hauser took her son Daniel and fled her Minnesota home. Five months ago Daniel, who is 13 years old was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma. This type of cancer responds well to treatment and there is a 90% chance that chemotherapy and radiation will cure him.

Daniel went with his mother for one chemo treatment in February which shrunk his tumor. However, Daniel and his parents refused to see any more doctors. The family believes in natural healing practices. Daniel’s mom had been treating his cancer with herbal supplements, vitamins, ionized water, and other natural alternatives.

When the courts got involved, a judge mandated that Daniel receive chemotherapy. Daniel refused and said: “I'd fight it. I'd punch them and I'd kick them." To avoid the court-ordered chemo, Daniel and his mother fled Minnesota, and supposedly were headed towards Mexico. Thank God, the mother came to her senses and brought her son home. Both parents have now told a judge that they will let Daniel receive his treatments and he began his chemotherapy this week.

It is unbelievable that a mother would flee with her son rather than give him the life-saving treatment he needs. I feel sorry for Daniel, because he is the victim of terrible neglect. What an incredible tragedy this could have been.

While Coleen and Daniel initially rejected chemotherapy, Judaism fully embraces Western Medicine as the most effective way to treat illness. There are no branches of Judaism that I am aware of, including even the most ultra-orthodox, which prohibit visiting a doctor or hospital.
Jews have participated in Western Medicine for centuries as doctors.

One of the greatest scholars in Jewish history, Maimonides, lived in Fostat, Egypt, modern day Cairo, in the 12th Century. Maimondies was a Jewish scholar and he was also a doctor. Maimondies was the court physician to the Grand Vizier and may have even treated Richard the Lionheart during the Crusades. He saw patients all day and into the night hours, writing in a letter to a friend that the sheer number of people exhausted him. Perhaps Dr. Maimonides belonged to an HMO.

Following in the footsteps of Maimonides, Jews have remained involved in medicine as doctors and researchers. The son of Eastern-European Jews, Jonas Salk discovered the polio vaccine and saved countless lives. The list of Jewish nobel prize winners in the field of medicine is quite long.

Jews have embraced medicine to such a great degree that Jewish mothers used to say to their daughters: “Find yourself a good Jewish doctor.” Today, Jewish mothers say to their daughters: “You’ll become a good Jewish doctor.”

Judaism also teaches that we can help those who are ill through prayer and hope. Religion does have a role to play in healing, by helping to lift the spirit of those who are sick and their loved ones.

During the mishebeiarch, the healing prayer, I always look around the Sanctuary and invite my congregants to share the names of the people in their lives who are ill. I do this because I believe it is helpful to say the name of our loved ones out loud.

Saying that name in the Sanctuary, surrounded by our Jewish community, gives us support and strength. It reminds us that we are not alone and that other people care about us. By saying those names, we lift a burden off ourselves and we reach out with open arms to our Divine Source, asking for help.

Coleen Hauser used religion as a reason to reject chemotherapy for her 13-year-old son. Yet all religions, including Judaism, can be a powerful source of comfort to those who are ill. Today, people are merging religion and technology in unique ways for those in need of healing.

One woman on the website Twitter is named “Pray for Patti.” Her bio says: “My good friend Patti was just diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer and she needs your prayers. She is a mother of 2, wife of twenty years and lover of life.” People follow Patti and offer her prayers and good wishes on line everyday.

When our loved ones are ill, they need both medical and spiritual treatment. We should never use religion as a reason to reject medicine. Yet religion, prayer and faith can be powerful supplements to Western Medicine. Or to put it another way, when as a child I asked my dad if he thought prayer worked, he would always say: “Can’t hurt.”

Fly Fishing for Bass

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Tue, 19 May 2009 15:20:00 +0000

Until last week, I had never tried to catch a bass on a fly rod. As a kid, I used to fish for bass on a Zebco rod with a red and white bobber and night crawlers on three pronged hooks. However, in 1994 that I saw A River Runs Through It. This amazing film introduced me a whole other world of fishing, where you did not stand on the shore but in the water, and you did not plop a worm covered hook in a lake, but rather gracefully cast a small dry fly lightly on the stream. I decided that I would leave behind the bait fishing of my youth and graduate to the higher form of casting a dry fly.

Last week, I realized that I had become a fishing snob and it had not served me well. I took a trip to a river in northern Connecticut that was located in a nature preserve. Walking from the car towards the stream, I went by a small two-acre lake. I glanced into the water from shore and saw a number of tiny bass swimming gleefully towards me. With my nose held high, I walked past the lake and to the stream, a beautiful, wide and fast flowing piece of water.

I spent the next three hours casting and walking up and down that stream and I did not find a single trout. There were signs posted at many points on the river indicating that this was fly fishing only water. Someone had even created a small flat metal cutout of a trout and put it on a tree, as a marker of appreciation for this good fishing spot. Yet here I was in the heart of spring on a cold-water stream and not a single trout was to be found. Finally, I gave up and started walking back to the car.

Passing the small lake once again, I saw the bass swimming eagerly. I stopped and thought to myself: “Why not?” Replacing the red copper john nymph with a brown elk hair caddis fly, I began to cast on the surface of the lake. I quickly discovered that bass are not the most intelligent of fish. One after another, these tiny fish would hit the fly after a few seconds on the surface.

After pulling in a half dozen small ones near the shore and releasing them, I decided to cast out a bit further. The elk hair caddis landed 40 or so feet from the bank, and I gave the fly a little twitch to attract a fish. The fly went down, and I expected to reel in another tiny fish, but this time it was different. The rod bent and the line was tense. I started to reel in and a good size bass leaped out of the water. The fish fought well but finally I held him in my hands. I had caught a two-pound smallmouth bass.

Picture: The bass in hand.

The bass was not a pretty as a trout. It lacked the pink shine of a rainbow or the beautiful dark spots of a brown trout. But as I stood there for a moment with the good size fish in my hand, I felt that same sense of excitement, joy and appreciation for the beauty of nature as with any trout. Then I released the fish back into the lake and walked back to the car feeling content.

On my drive home from the lake, it occurred to me that my fish snobbery had prevented me from a fine pastime, casting a fly rod for bass. Especially in the summer, when water temperatures rise too high for trout, I will now search out a good bass lake. I also discovered that being a snob makes sense when drinking fine wine or eating French cheese. When it comes to fishing however, any time that we are able to spend in a river, lake or ocean, fishing for trout, bass or any kind of fish, is time well spent.

Mother’s Day and Women in Judaism

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Sun, 10 May 2009 12:11:00 +0000

In honor of Mother’s Day, this blog post is about the changing attitudes towards women in Judaism. Until the 20th Century, Judaism did not have a very good track record in how it treated women. Much of the Torah is transcendent, setting high standards for ethical behavior like “love your neighbor as yourself.” Yet when it came to women, the Bible is sexist.

The Torah says that a woman is ritually impure during her menstrual cycle. The term for a woman with her period is niddah, coming from a Hebrew root meaning “to cast out.” Rather than accepting menstruation as a natural part of biology, the male authors of these parts of the Torah saw it as something to be feared.

Even today, some Jews practice the laws of niddah, so that ultra-orthodox Jews will not shake hands or touch a woman in case she may have her period. The impure state of niddah ends with the dunking in the mikvah, the ritual bath. Reform Judaism abolished the laws of ritual purity and most modern Jews do not practice them.

As Judaism continued to evolve, women still were not treated equally. In Jewish tradition, women have three commandments reserved only for them: the lighting of Shabbat candles, preparing challah, and once again the laws of ritual purity. These were the only mitzvot, commandments, that women were required to practice while men were obligated to perform 613!

Women had the option of participating in pray in the synagogue but only if sitting in the back section behind a mechitza, a divider. Women could not wear a tallis or yarmulke. They could not study or read from the Torah. And of course, women could not become a bar mitzvah or a rabbi. In the movie Yentel, Barbara Streisand has a passion for studying Judaism and wants to enter the yeshiva. Only by disguising herself as a man can she participate in Torah and Talmud study.

Then things began to change. For thousands of years, boys had become bar mitzvah, the rite of passage to adulthood where 13-year-old males read from the Torah. In 1922, Judith Kaplan became the first bat mitzvah in Jewish history. It only took 3000 years! Judith was the daughter of Mordecai Kaplan, the founder of Reconstructionist Judaism, the fourth branch of American Judaism. Mordecai Kaplan was a philosopher and innovator and he wanted his daughter to have the same experience as any other boy.

It probably was no accident that the first bat mitzvah was in 1922. Only two years earlier, in 1920, the 19th Amendment to the Constitution was ratified, giving women the right to vote. Equality of women was an issue at the forefront of American culture, and Mordechai Kaplan responded with the first Bat Mitzvah. Today, most synagogues offer bar and bat Mitzvah equally, and give both boys and girls the opportunity to read from the Torah.

A second hurdle to women’s equality was in the area of leadership: in traditional Judaism, women could not become rabbis. That changed too in 1972 when Sally Priesand become the first woman rabbi in Jewish history. Rabbi Priesand was ordained a Reform Rabbi at Hebrew Union College, the same seminary where I studied. She became a rabbi in 1972, exactly 50 years after Judith Kaplan become the first Bat Mitzvah.

I also believe that the state of American society in the early 1970s helped Reform Judaism break through this barrier. At that time, the women’s movement pushed for equality of the sexes. In 1972, Congress passed the equal rights amendment, which guaranteed equality of the sexes in America but it was not ratified by enough states to become part of the Constitution. In the early 70s, women were also rallying for equal pay in the workplace and for equal hiring, based on one’s qualifications not one’s gender.

Judaism was ready for a new innovation, the first woman rabbi. Here is how Rabbi Priesand described her journey:
“I decided I wanted to be a rabbi in 1962 at the age of 16. Fortunately, my parents gave me one of the greatest gifts a parent can give a child: the courage to dare and to dream. When I decided to study for the rabbinate, I never thought much about being a pioneer, nor was it my intention to champion the rights of women. I just wanted to be a rabbi. Thus, I have spent my entire career in congregational life.”

In the 21st Century, Reform Judaism has complete equality of the sexes in our religion. At my synagogue, Temple Shearith Israel, and at all Reform synagogues, women do everything that a man does: women study torah, pray, teach, become board members, and even become the president of the Temple (if they are gluttons for punishment!) Speaking of which, American society has come even further in the pursuit of equal rights for women, so that we almost elected a woman to be the president of the United States.

I am proud to be a Reform Rabbi because of the equality that our movement demands. The Bible teaches that we are all created in the divine image and with a divine spark. And thus it is our obligation to treat every person with dignity, equality and respect.

Why do Jews not eat pork?

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 04 May 2009 13:29:00 +0000

The swine flu outbreak recently got me thinking about the Jewish views about the pig. Not consuming pork is a defining tradition in Judaism, one of main rules of keeping kosher, the Jewish dietary laws. When I learned of the swine flue, I wondered for a moment if Judaism got it right in prohibiting the consumption of the pig.

The laws of keeping kosher have been a central part of Jewish practice since Biblical times. In the book of Leviticus, God told the Israelites that they may eat any animal that has a cleft hoof and chews the cud: this includes ox, sheep, goats, deer and cows. However, God prohibits Jews from eating pork since it is an animal that has a split hoof but does not chew the cud. As with many of the laws of the Torah, there is no real reason given for why Jews cannot eat pork. The Bible only states that the pig is unclean. Here God tells us what we cannot do, and the reason seems to be: “Because I told you so!”

Jewish commentators throughout the ages have tried to understand why God would prohibit the consumption of pork. Some scholars believe that the pig simply became taboo in Israelite culture early on and we have upheld that tradition until today. Other commentators suggest that even before there were doctors, Jews realized that the pig could be dangerous to eat as it spends most of the day in its own refuse. Or maybe we cannot eat pork because as the old joke goes: “It is hard to be Jew!” Whatever the reason for the prohibition of pork, it was a powerful practice that Jews have upheld for millennia.

I suspect that if you took a survey of American Jews today, the vast majority would say that they do eat pork. Ever since arriving on American shores, Jews have strived to assimilate and fit in with the larger culture. For many people that meant giving up specific Jewish practices that made them stand apart, like not working on Saturday and avoiding bacon and ham.

At Hancock Shaker Village in MA. I'll hold a piglet but not eat it!

Even in Israel, many secular Jews eat pork. They call it basar lavan, which means “white meat,” like tv commercial slogan: “The Other White Meat.” It is interesting that Israelis do not use the biblical word chazer, which means pig. Perhaps the Jewish stigma against eating pork can still remain strong, even for those who do choose to eat it.

I grew up eating pork like any good Midwestern American boy. In my family, we did not practice any of the kosher laws. We ate pork, pepperoni, ham and bacon. I grew up in a Reform Synagogue in St. Louis and was confirmed. However, it was not until I entered Tufts University that I became very interested in Judaism. Yet, I had no connection or background with the kosher laws. Like most American Jews I knew that pork was forbidden in Jewish practice, but I still kept eating pepperoni pizza.

Then one day I was in the dining hall and I saw a grilled ham and cheese, a sandwich that I had consumed a dozen times that year and always enjoyed. As I thought about eating that ham and cheese, I actually got a little bit nauseous. At that moment, I knew then that it was time for me to give up pork. I have not had a slice of ham or a piece of bacon since.

Looking back, it was my rising sense of Jewish commitment that was coming into conflict with my American lifestyle and dietary choices. I could no longer stomach the idea of eating pork if I was going to continue to move closer to Judaism. So I gave it up. Today, I practice a modified from of keeping kosher: I do not eat pork and shellfish, but I do mix meat and milk. This compromise works for me, and it is a very Reform way of approaching Jewish tradition.

Reform Judaism stresses the idea of informed choice. Reform Jews need to learn about the Jewish rituals and traditions and why they are important. Then we choose which traditions to follow in our lives, traditions that give us a sense of meaning and connection to Judaism. For me that meant that I do not eat pork, but I do not practice other kosher laws like separating meat an milk.

The beauty of Reform Judaism is that each person can choose his or her own level of ritual practice. The danger of Reform Judaism is that we must have some level of Jewish practice to keep our religion meaningful and alive. Informed choice does not mean wholesale rejection.

People sometimes ask me if I miss eating pork, and I always say: “Yes, sometimes I do.” But my refraining from pork is a way of acknowledging the laws of keeping kosher, and it makes me feel closer to my Judaism and Jews stretching all the way back to the Bible.

Holding a Trout in Your Hand

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 15:53:00 +0000

On one of my first fishing outings of the season, I was fortunate to find a pool full of trout on a local Connecticut stream. Although the river was narrow and shallow for much of it’s length, there was one deep spot. I tied a red Copper John to my tippet and then proceeded to have an experience that I had dreamt about all winter long. I caught, landed and released 6 good-sized trout in half an hour, 4 rainbows and 2 browns.

It was like child’s play, with almost each cast leading to a fish. Then suddenly, the pool went quiet. Another thirty minutes of casting yielded not a single bite. Only one other time have I ever fished a pool like that, two years ago, also in April, near Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. On that day too, I drifted a nymph, a zug bug, and for a brief time, each cast led to a trout.

It was exciting, almost addicting, to cast my fly into the invisible depths of the pool, instantly feel the tug, and then pull a beautiful trout out of the water. The highlight of the experience though was actually holding the fish in my hands. To ensure that the trout would survive, I dunked my hands in the water and I only kept the fish out of the water for a few seconds, before releasing it back to the stream. Yet those were remarkable moments when I looked at the beautiful colorings of the fish, and felt the strength of its flesh. Holding the trout, I felt awe at seeing such a beautiful creature. I felt powerful, because I could hold this hidden treasure in my hand. And I felt compassion, for a creature that was so strong and agile in the water but now was so vulnerable in the open air.

One of the rainbows I held in my hand, taken with a camera phone.

In the Bible, God has the power to hold us in the Divine Hand in the same way that I held that beautiful trout. Sometimes God’s hand can be strong and even punishing, as when God brought the 10 plagues upon Egypt. In the same way, I had absolute control over that fish when I held it in my hands and could have easily taken it home for dinner.

The hand of God can also be a hand of compassion. When God heard the suffering of the Israelite slaves in Egypt, God freed them with an outstretched arm and a mighty hand. God’s hand can free the oppressed and help the suffering to find comfort. I too wanted the trout to be free, and so I released them from my hands.

The hand of God can also be a hand of protection. A hamsa is a small amulet shaped like a hand often with an eye in the center of the palm. Some Jews wear a hamsa as a pendant or on a necklace to provide protection from the evil eye and other misfortunes. A hand can be sheltering, helping those who come under its protective care. The spiritual “He’s got the whole word in His hands” sung by African-American slaves captures this same idea; even in the midst of the worst of conditions, God’s hand can protect and shield us.

Hamsa from: www.luckymojo.com

Even when fly fishing, our hands can provide protection, for the fish and for the beautiful places where they live. At the end of the day, I found myself wanting to give something back, to the stream that had shared such abundance with me and to God who had ultimately created such a beautiful world. As I hiked back to the car through the woods, I saw a pile of trash, about a dozen empty beer cans and some plastic bags and small boxes. I was disgusted for a moment, as I often am when seeing how people harm nature for no good reason. But then I took the same hands that had held the trout and used them to pick up that trash, and in the smallest of ways, leave the stream a little bit better then when I arrived.

Finally, the hand of God can be loving. After Adam and Eve ate the apple in the Garden of Eden, God told them that they must leave and earn their bread through hard work. God then made garments for Adam and Eve and clothed them. God’s hands were loving, ensure that His children did not have to go out into the world with no protection at all.

When I was holding those trout in my hands, I too felt this type of caring. I could not help but think of the sensation of petting a dog. It is an imperfect analogy, as man’s best friend likes being scratched, and a fish is in danger in human hands. Yet, I still found myself wondering if maybe all of the trout in the world are like our pets, and by spending a moment with them in our hands, we too can appreciate their beauty and grandeur. Then like God releasing Adam and Eve into the world so that they could live, I opened my hand and returned the trout to the stream, unharmed and whole.

Finding Family after the Holocaust: Two Cantors Meet

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Tue, 21 Apr 2009 21:14:00 +0000

Today on Yom Hashoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day, a story was broadcast on National Public Radio about two Cantors, clergy members of a Jewish congregation who sing and lead worship. These two Cantors both lost many relatives during the Holocaust, but they found one another over 50 years later.

Cantor Leopold Szneer thought he was the only person in his family who survived the Holocaust. Then four years ago he happened to come across a CD from Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray, the Cantor of my congregation in Ridgefield, Connecticut. Cantor Szneer recognized the Katchko name, contacted Cantor Debbie and discovered that she was the granddaughter of his father’s cousin. They soon met and found one another.

The story of this Cantorial reunion was broadcast on The Story by American Public Media.

To listen to the NPR broadcast in a new window: CLICK HERE

To visit the NPR webpage: CLICK HERE

Jewish Graduates: A Shift from Finance to Public Service

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 12:55:00 +0000

A recent article in the New York Times reported that many upcoming college and masters degree graduates are not looking for positions in finance and business as in the past. Instead they are starting to focus on careers in public service, government work, teaching and the sciences. This shift away from banking and business and towards government and teaching surely has its practical reasons. With banking sector in shambles and the stock market cut in half, there are not the same job prospects in business as there were a few years ago. I believe that this shift in professions also reflects a shift in priorities. Perhaps we are entering a time when the new generation will be focused not on enriching themselves, but also enriching our world.

There is nothing wrong with working in finance and business. As far back as the Bible, we Jews have been concerned about business, with the book of Leviticus teaching that all Israelites must use fair weights and measures. Today, many Jews work in business and finance as witnessed by the fact that the current and the most recent past chairmen of the Federal Reserve are both Jewish, Ben Bernake and Alan Greenspan. I too started out thinking that I wanted to go into business. When I went to college at Tufts University, I began to study Economics. Four years later after much soul searching, I graduated with a major in Jewish Studies, and a minor in Economics and I realized that I wanted to become a rabbi.

While I do not suspect that many Jewish graduates will follow my path from business to the Rabbinate (and for their sake I hope not!), I do hope that this shift we are seeing from finance to public service is real and lasting. We certainly need Jewish bankers, CPAs and business people. But at this time in our country, we also need lots of Jewish scientists, teachers and government workers. We are facing drastic domestic problems, the biggest one of course being the economy and loss of jobs. But there are also serious long-term challenges in our country. We have a health care system with costs spiraling out of control. And we have an energy policy based on fossil fuels that not only destroys our environment but also gives billions to Middle Eastern Countries, some of whom are Anti-Israel.

The new graduates are beginning to see these problems, the economy, health care and energy as important challenges for them to pursue. In Judaism, working towards fixing large-scale public problems is called tikkun olam, repair of the world. We have all heard of the “Me Generation,” which is anyone born in the 1970s, 80s or 90s. The Me Generation takes it for granted that self comes first. Then there is We Generation, which according to gen-we.com, is the generation born between 1978-2000, who will bring change to our world by dedicating themselves to leading lives of service. Perhaps we are on the cusp of a new Jewish generation as well, The TO Generation, tikkun olam.

While there is much history of Jews in finance, there is also a great and proud tradition of Jews seeking to repair the world. The Biblical prophets were concerned with social justice. They would rebuke Israelite kings at great personal risk if they felt that people were being treated unfairly. Amos spoke out against the people of Israel for selling the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals. He said: “Let justice well up as waters, righteousness as a mighty stream.”

In this past century, Jews were also at the forefront of movements that worked to improve our society. In 1911, there was a fire at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory in lower Manhattan and 146 sweatshop workers died, many of whom were Jewish. It was this tragedy that helped our country see that workers needed protection. Jews were involved in labor unions from the beginning with the goal of to creating safer working conditions and helping workers earn decent and livable wages.

A second great Jewish movement of tikkun olam in the 20th Century was the drive for Civil Rights, and Jews were heavily involved there too. Kivie Kaplan, a fellow Jew, was the president of the NAACP from 1966 to 1975. Many Reform Congregations sent groups to march for equal rights. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a professor at the Jewish Theological Seminary, joined Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in the famous march in Selma, Alabama. Looking back on that day, Rabbi Heschel said: “I felt that my feet were praying.” Although the issues are different today, we too can recapture that sense of Jewish involvement in social action and tikkun olam.

I do believe that we will find our way out of this terrible economic situation. I hope and pray that people who are suffering through a job loss and difficult times will soon find some economic relief. But today we also need to look to the longer-term problems that we face in energy and health care. We can all do our small parts to help with these problems by recycling, buying more fuel efficient cars and giving to charities that help with education and poverty. But what we also need now are smart young people who dedicate themselves to public service, and smart young Jews who will give themselves over to tikkun olam.

In the 90s, the measure of success of the Me Generation was the size of your paycheck or house. My hope is that today’s graduates will measure their success by the work they do to repair our world and to make it a greener, healthier and safer place for all of us.

To Read the New York Times Article “With Finance Disgraced, Which Career Will Be King?”: CLICK HERE

A Starling and Compassion

theflyfishingrabbi@yahoo.com (Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 15:09:00 +0000

One morning I woke up to discover a strange scratching sound coming from the fireplace. The flue was closed, but some kind of living creature was scratching on the metal. Not good. I briefly considered getting a box, opening the flue, and trying to catch the creature myself, but then realized the inherent flaws of that plan.

A few hours later, Craig from Aardvark Animal Control arrived with gloves, a flashlight and a net. He opened the flue just a little bit, and peeked in to discover a starling, a small black bird with a long yellow beak and purple and green flashes on its feathers.

Craig told me that he would catch the starling and release it into the wild, causing no harm to the animal. I told him how I practice catch and release too, but I do it on the trout stream. Then Craig opened the flue, reached in, and gracefully pulled out the bird, placing it in a small cage that he had brought with him. As I stared at the small creature, I was relieved that the bird was out of the chimney. But I was also happy that the man had handled the bird with such care, and that this starling would be released.

As I thought back on this entire incident, it was Craig’s compassion that stuck with me. Craig had complete power over this small bird, and yet he cared for the starling and made sure that no harm came to it. In Hebrew the word for compassion is rachamim, which comes from the word rechem, which means womb. This teaches that when we act with compassion, we help people in need to feel protected as if by a parent.

God sets the ultimate example of compassion for all humanity. The rabbis refered to God as harachaman, the compassionate one. In the story of Passover, we see God’s compassion for our ancestors. Each year at the Seder, we recite the passage from Deuteronomy “My father was a fugitive Aramean.” We were slaves and we cried out to Adonai, the God of our ancestors. God “heard our plea and saw our plight, our misery and our oppression.” Then God freed us from Egypt by a might hand and an outstretched arm.

In this passage, God teaches us that compassion has two parts. First we feel genuine empathy for another person and their plight. Compassion also requires action. God got involved, saving us with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Craig the bird man followed this model of compassion. He heard the cries of the starling, the scratching on the flue, and I did too! Then Craig reached out his hand, and saved this bird, and let it go to fly another day.

We can all think of times in our lives when we have demonstrated this kind of compassion, perhaps helping an animal, giving food to a homeless person, or reaching out a hand to a disabled child or a person who sick or need of comfort. These are all wonderful deeds of compassion.

However, there are times when we are called to a higher and more difficult level of compassion. I am speaking of instances where we have the choice of compassion or neglect in our relationships with other people. We probably all have a family member or friend who is struggling, especially right now with our terrible economy. Some people have difficulty holding down a job, or paying their bills. Others struggle with more personal problems, emotional issues or addiction. Often it is these family members and friends who come to us for help.

To turn away a family member in trouble would be acting like Phoarah in Egypt. Pharoah displays the exact opposite of compassion. He enslaved our people ruthlessly. Then when Moses told him: “Let my people go,” Pharoah’s heart was hardened. God acted with an outstretched arm, while Pharoah’s heart was so hard that he does not realize the suffering of other human beings right in front of him. The opposite of compassion is a heart that is so blocked off from all human emotion that it cannot even see the pain of another human being.

We can always open up our hearts to others that our struggling, especially our friends and family. We do not want to harden our hearts when it comes to those that we care about. But the trick is that second step of compassion, reaching out the helping hand. It can be difficult to figure out exactly when and how to give help. Sometimes we just need to reach out a hand a person in real trouble, just like the bird caught in my chimney. But there are other times, when we benefit from moving a little more slowly, from deliberating and trying to figure out the best way to help. Sometimes our loved ones and our children must face the consequences of their actions, so that they too can grow.

In trying to act with compassion, sometimes we will make mistakes, offering too little help when it is truly needed, or perhaps shielding our loved ones too much from consequences. Yet, our task is to continue to open our hearts and to reach out our hands. For when we cultivate compassion within ourselves, we become better people.