Category Archives: Contemporary Life

Health Care/Coverage Conundrum

Posted on August 17, 2009 | Comments Off

The United States has the best health care system on the planet. The proof ? People vote with their feet, and more foreigners come to America for health care than Americans flee to foreign countries for health care. Indeed, foreigners will spend tens of thousands of dollars they don’t have in order to obtain health care from American doctors and hospitals. So what is lost in the current debate is that Americans are concerned not with health care but with health coverage – and that is the first misconception that is being widely propagated.

The second is that it is possible, finally, after years of trying in manifold ways, to get that free lunch. It is possible for health care to be disseminated to all, with the same quality of care and the same opportunities, without taxes being raised, revenues enhanced or the country being bankrupted. And this state of affairs will be possible the moment after the tooth fairy assumes office. Here we come to the classic conflict between high-sounding ideals and the practicalities of the real world. That everyone should have equal access to health care is eminently desirable, perhaps slightly more than everyone should have equal access to a health club, a high-priced French restaurant and a Lexus. But the chilling effect of the real world informs that no one will have equal access to the latter, so why should they necessarily have to the former ?

Put another way: if two people have equal access to something, and one pays for it and the other does not, then for how long will anyone keep paying for it ? Or, if the government creates and sustains its own health insurance company (ignore for a moment that its current company – Medicare – is going bankrupt and the only system it currently manages – Veterans Hospitals – are not noted for their high standard of care), then why would anyone purchase such insurance from a private company, whose costs will be greater and which is not shielded from the competitive marketplace ? Of course no sane person would, and in the end, the government would be running health care in America, and the record of government run health care – where it is now in place – is markedly poor, in terms of quality, speed of delivery, responsiveness to the individual patient, and ultimately the need to ration care because of limited resources.

With the current reform attempt of the health coverage system – and I will spell out my own – it is fair to question the bold assertions of the reformers:

1) They insist that all Americans should have health insurance. Well, why ? The figure bandied about – 47,000,000 uninsured – includes a quarter who are illegal aliens, and 2/3 of the remainder are those who can afford it if they wished to purchase it (but they choose to spend money on something else) or those who are young (under 30) and do not feel they need health insurance (and they are actuarially correct – although in certain individual cases, tragically wrong). But why isn’t an American free to say “I don’t want that,” as long as he is willing to live with the consequences ? And of the remaining 10%, many lose their insurance briefly and then are insured again. And there is Medicaid to cover the truly indigent.

2) They insist that it be illegal for an insurance company to deny coverage for pre-existing conditions. But why ? An insurance company makes its money by insuring people who then do not need its services. The premium payments of the healthy offset the medical expenses of the unhealthy. If a person only seeks insurance when he is already ill, then the insurance company immediately incurs expenses far greater than any premiums it will accrue – a sure recipe for financial disaster. So why allow anyone to game the system and only seek coverage when ill ? If everyone did that, the system would collapse. And if the government health plan decides to cover pre-existing conditions, then it will collapse – or better, would collapse, if it didn’t have available a limitless supply of government-printed money underwriting it, that would shortly thereafter depress the value of the dollar.

3) They insist that women not be charged higher premiums than men, and that the elderly not be charged higher premiums than the young. But that too is ridiculous, assuming arguendo that women require more medical care than men (undoubtedly true, because of pregnancy and the like) and that the elderly require more medical treatment than those younger – which is obviously the case. The higher premiums are not punitive, but simply reflect the sober assessment of potential costs associated with insuring those groups. Would they insist as well that smokers not be assessed higher premiums ? Of course not. All of which begs the question: has anyone Congress studied simple economics or ever run a successful business ?

To say America has the best system is not to say it has the perfect system, and certain adjustments are clearly warranted. It should be obvious to anyone that insurance companies make money by not paying claims, and so my experience has been that they will routinely deny payment for valid claims – hoping the average person becomes flummoxed and does nothing. That is wrong, and since the consumer is at a disadvantage when fighting for the payment of just claims, a claim wrongly and arbitrarily refused should result in the company being fined – with the fine going to the consumer. So too, companies should be subjected to fines for suddenly denying coverage in the middle of an illness, with all ambiguities in the impenetrable health coverage agreement construed against the drafter – the insurance company.

Finally, the system should be simplified, and coverage provided only for major medical or catastrophic needs. There was a time when that was the norm. When my first child was born, we had only major medical coverage – so the doctor was paid $2500 or so out-of-pocket, and the hospital slightly less than that. By the time my last child was born eight years later, insurance was paying almost all of it – and paying much more than I had paid. Undoubtedly – and obviously, given human nature – third-party paying leads to more consumption of the particular entity in mind. I will eat more at a wedding (third-party payment) than I will at a restaurant (self-payment). One will visit a doctor far more – and not mind a battery of tests – when a third party is paying for it than the consumer himself. This should end.

As the great economist and thinker Thomas Sowell has written, automobile insurance covers collision and damage – not gasoline fill-ups and oil changes. Insurance by definition is designed to cover risks, not the routine, so why should health insurance insure anything that is routine, like routine visits and check-ups ?

Costs can certainly be reduced by reforming the tort system, as well, as Charles Krauthammer has written – by limiting medical malpractice to compensatory (not punitive) damages and stripping the negligent doctor of his license to practice medicine – deterrent enough. But the notion that doctors need to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical malpractice insurance premiums, or divest themselves of all assets so they are lawsuit- proof, is obscene, and a sign that reform is needed. But it should be reform that improves the system and does not destroy it, that reduces costs rather than inflates it, and that limits the role of government rather than expands it.

The discontent in the heartland of America over the proposed overhaul reflects the heartland values of personal responsibility and individual initiative that has sustained the world’s engine of prosperity for two centuries. It is a voice that is saying to the politicians – most of them well-meaning, to be sure – a uniquely-American sentiment first articulated in 1775: “Don’t Tread On Me!” We will soon see how – and if – that voice is heeded. Reform will come in some guise – that is the political necessity. Let it be reform that advances a good system rather than strives to create the perfect system that will never exist.

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Modiin Journal #4 – Religious Life

Posted on August 14, 2009 | 4 comments

This piece also dates from my mini-sabbatical in 2007, and… I wouldn’t change a word !

The most noticeable change in the daily davening routine is the Birkat Kohanim that occurs every morning (twice on Shabbat) in Israel, except in a few isolated places. As a Levi charged with hand-washing duty, I step outside during every Chazarat Hashatz to take care of business, and, aside from the occasional bout of Carpal-tunnel syndrome (one shul had 18 kohanim !), I enjoy it immensely. The daily blessing is a feature of life that we do not have in the exile, and for reasons that are entirely unclear.

While there are scattered Sefaradic congregations in the exile that duchan every day, the prevailing custom follows the opinion of the Rema (Shulchan Orach, Orach Chaim 128:44): “It is customary in these countries that the kohanim do not lift their hands except on festivals, because then people are immersed in the jubilation of the festivals, and [only] the good-hearted person can bless. On the other days of the year – even on Shabbat – people are overwrought with concerns about sustenance and losing time from work …” And in Israel they are always cheerful, and not running off to work ?!

This inference, needless to say, has been the source of enormous controversy – especially since Birkat Kohanim is incumbent on kohanim, one of the 613 commandments, and essentially not at all related to happiness or joy. The Gemara, for example, never mentions that the fulfillment of this mitzva is dependent on a joyous state, any more than any other Mitzva, or that an absence of joy precludes its observance. There have been several attempts among Ashkenazim to restore the daily practice even in the exile – and all have failed. Most famously, the Gaon of Vilna endeavored to do it, finding the traditional custom unsubstantiated, but the night before the practice was to have been reinstituted in Vilna, the Gaon was arrested on unrelated charges. He interpreted this as a sign from Heaven to desist.

The Aruch Hashulchan (128:64) says there is no good reason why we do not duchan, calling it a “minhag garua” (terrible custom) – but says that it is as if it has been decreed from Heaven that in the exile we refrain from this daily blessing. The question is why, and what does all this have to do with happiness ?

Jewish life here has a natural rhythm to it – part similar and part dissimilar to our experiences. We all have shuls, the davening is the same (except for the above), the noise during davening is about the same, and the forms of mitzvot are identical. There is an ease to the observance of kashrut here – restaurants and marketplaces – but, truth be told, it is easy in Teaneck too. But there is a welcome change in Israel that has happened so gradually that it has taken some people by surprise, and left others in denial. Here is a headline from last Friday’s Jerusalem Post: “Drastic Decline in Israelis who define themselves as Secular.” The Israel Democracy Institute reported that whereas in 1974, 41% of Israelis saw themselves as secular, that figure has decreased to 20% – with the religious population at 33% (but 39% under the age of 40 !) and the traditional at 47%. That is a sea change, and, of course, completely unreflected in the public persona of the state. That 20% secular population controls – with a stranglehold through manipulation of the law and the political system – the government, the army, the media, the police and the judiciary – and partly explains their current desperation to surrender to the Arabs at any cost and in defiance of all logic. But the effect of the demographic shift has a ripple effect on the rest of society. The ubiquity of religious Jews here is a sharp contrast to what we are used to – even in New Jersey.

Modiin is a mixed city, and we live on an especially heterogeneous street – with religious and not(-yet?) religious Jews, Israelis and Anglos, Ashkenazim and Sefaradim. Of the many reasons we chose to live in Modiin, one was my desire not to live in an exclusively religious neighborhood as one finds in most parts of Israel. The cloistering of religious life is not a healthy development, and pleasant interactions in a mixed neighborhood can only bode well for co-existence and harmony among all Jews. “Live and let live” sounds reasonable to us, but, trust me, it is a revolutionary concept in the Middle East. On Israel Radio’s Reshet Aleph, the evening’s all-religious programming is termed Reshet Moreshet (literally, Heritage Network), with the catchphrase: “L’kal Yisrael yesh moreshet achat – All Israel has one heritage”. Indeed.

That is not to say that there aren’t tensions that arise from two divergent world views. But the local disputes, such as there are, are understandable even in an American context: competition for slices of the municipal pie. Should vacant land be used to build a library or a shul, should another plot be a Chareidi elementary school or a religious-Zionist high school, should a temporary shul housed in a school be dislodged so the school can have a computer room ? The reality is that Modiin began 12 years ago with a tiny religious population that has grown exponentially in the last few years (including a disproportionate number of Teanecker’s !), and the current religious population is woefully underserved in terms of its religious needs. But that will surely change in the years ahead, as the politics and the politicians adjust to the new realities – and this is true not only in Modiin but elsewhere in Israel as well.

What Israel lacks most is the sense of religious community that we have, for example, in Teaneck. Whereas our lives can revolve around the shul, and there is a community rabbi to whom we turn, that institution is mostly lacking in Israel, and American expatriates always tell me that is what they miss most. There is a nearby shul located on Shabbat in a school (known to the Israelis as the “American shul”), where they are trying to replicate that American-Jewish experience, with a fine young Rabbi, social and youth activities, shiurim, ruach, etc. – and they are in the early stages of what will surely be a successful endeavor and hopefully a template that other communities can emulate.

But without a central Rabbinic figure, most shuls remain lay-driven (with all the positives and negatives that portends). They exist as a place to daven, period. (A Yemenite Jew, who had duchened – I had washed his hands – was called up for revi’i. When I inquired, the gabbai said he had wondered the same thing, and perhaps the Yemenites have a custom that the kohen can get any aliya. I responded that perhaps the Yemenites have a custom that a Yisrael can duchan too !) Without a central authority, strange things can happen.

The bright side is that people become more involved because the success of each minyan depends on every person. While the local shul here remains to be built, there are minyanim on the street, and an especially beautiful Maariv minyan every night at 9:30 P.M. under the stars in the park on our corner. Literally out of the darkness within a minute from 9:29 P.M., approximately 25-30 people materialize, face Yerushalayim, and daven in the crisp evening air. In addition to a Monday night shiur in English, I have been asked to speak in several shuls (in Hebrew) on a number of occasions – and I have, surely coining a few heretofore unknown Hebrew words in the process.

Religious life, then, is suffused with normalcy, except for the realization – by most people but especially olim – that to build Jewish life in the land of Israel is historic, momentous, and – there is no other way to say it – the way it is supposed to be. And perhaps that is what the Rema meant. Simcha is a sense of contentment and completeness about life, in which an aura of purposefulness and meaning prevails. The Birkat Kohanim reflect that state of being, and when we abstain from Birkat Kohanim in the exile – except when immersed in the joy and sanctity of Yom Tov – we recognize that we either can not or should not have that sense of completeness – the full blessings of Jewish life – on a regular basis.

That feeling is limited to when the Jewish people live in Israel, fulfill the Torah and serve G-d in all aspects of life – as will be the destiny of all Jews, we pray, in the near future.

Shabbat Shalom from Modiin !

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Posted in Contemporary Life, Current Events, Halacha, Israel, Machshava/Jewish Thought, Minhagim

Modiin Journal #3 – Gridlock

Posted on August 14, 2009 | 3 comments

This entry also dates from my mini-sabbatical in Israel two years ago, which was also a sabbatical year (2007-2008). It is still timely !

If living in Israel is complicated and eating in Israel is more complicated, then eating in Israel during a Shmitta year is almost an impenetrable maze. In general, the multitude of local Rabbinates, many with standards of Kashrut than are unacceptable to one accustomed to RCBC or OU standards, make kashrut (and shopping or eating out) a treacherous minefield. It is not merely a question of glatt vs. non-glatt; there are even different standards of glatt, different standards of mehadrin – and even a familiarity with Yoreh Deah is not always conclusive. But shmitta adds a dimension that exalts life here – with a constant reminder of the sanctity of the land of Israel – and also confounds, mystifies and bewilders.

First, the good news. The fundamental obligation of Shmitta is to allow one’s land to lie fallow – not to do any work that does more than maintain the land for future use. We administer a small plot of land outside our home, roughly half the size of a basketball foul lane, and I hate gardening. In fact, I am willing to let my land lie fallow for this entire year and for the next six years as well (on the small chance that they have the wrong date for Shmitta). So I have found that aspect of Shmitta to be one of the easier mitzvot in the Torah to fulfill.

But one has to eat too, and therein lay the perplexities. The Torah declares a moratorium on private ownership of the land of Israel every seven years. Theoretically, any person is entitled to walk onto a field and grab enough produce for a day’s meal. On a practical level, two issues arise relating to fruits, vegetables and other produce: first, they have to be treated with Kedushat Shvi’it (meaning consumed in their usual way and not squandered or thrown in the trash). Every shmitta observant home contains a special receptacle to store peels and leftover produce until they decay, at which point they can be discarded. Of course, there is a special significance in consuming Peirot Shvi’it properly, as it is a mitzva in its own right and affords an additional awareness of what it means to be dwelling in a holy and blessed land.

The second issue, though, is where the majority of complications set in: it is forbidden to commercially sell Peirot Shvi’it. So, in a modern economy, how can the producer get the product to the consumer in a way that does not violate the laws of Shmitta ? On this point, there is no agreement, much disagreement (some of it vehement), and whatever method one chooses attracts both support and opposition.

There are three main methods: to purchase produce from an Otzar Bet Din, to purchase what is called Yevul Nochri (non-Jewish produce, either Arab or European), or rely on the famous Heter Mechira, the “sale” of the land to Arabs in order to allow Jewish workers to work their fields (slightly differently than in the other years) and then sell their produce to Jews.

The Otzar Bet Din is, by far, the preferred arrangement. Effectively, a communal body assumes control of Jewish fields and their produce, pays the farmers a sum of money to do the work on behalf of the Bet Din, and then sells the produce – proceeds to the Bet Din – at certain designated stores. This process is mentioned in a Tosefta, and was endorsed by the Chazon Ish, thereby carrying a lot of weight in these parts. But the Rambam doesn’t cite this as a halachic possibility, many authorities don’t accept it, and many farmers (probably for financial reasons) do not wish to be part of the Otzar Bet Din system.

Non-Jewish produce poses the fewest halachic problems, especially if it comes from outside the land of Israel entirely. (The Chazon Ish, for example, ruled that even Arab-owned produce in the land of Israel has to be treated with Kedushat Shvii’it.) But the notion of buying produce from Arabs does not sit well with many people, it is especially abhorrent and repugnant to purchase it from the new “owners” of the hothouses of the former Gush Katif (at least the ones they didn’t ransack), and it is widely assumed that such purchases underwrite terror. Yet, it is the preferred method for Charedim, and has – again – unleashed torrents of abuse against them. One writer (in classic Israeli understated fashion) termed them “Palestinians l’mehadrin.”

Much of the criticism, to me at least, seems misdirected. It is hard to accept that the government of Israel can turn over the Palestinians $60,000,000 in cash – and that “will not fund terror” – but if one wants to observe the law of the Torah and buy a cucumber for a shekel from an Arab, then that is “funding terror.” And for the other six years of the cycle, Israel and the Palestinian occupied territories are each other’s largest importers and exporters – so, then, is it only during shmitta that this becomes a concern ?

Of course, who can verify that it is actually Arab produce ? There were cases in the past of Israeli farmers unscrupulously selling their produce to an Arab “middleman” who then re-sold it as yevul nochri. In the Arab shuk, a few weeks ago, I saw Israeli tomatoes being wheeled to some unknown destination. So who really knows what it is ? (They have tried to compensate for this by sending in mashgichim to Arab-occupied areas with security escorts, but who really knows ?)

The third method is the most controversial – the sale of the land of Israel to an Arab. It is a tactic that is now well over a century old that was endorsed by many gedolim in the past (and opposed by many as well). Rav Kook, in 1904, endorsed its use temporarily, as “an emergency measure to prevent starvation.” Undoubtedly, in the context of his time, he was correct. But no one will starve today, and it is more a question of loss of farmer’s income than anything else. But yet, every shmitta cycle, the “sale” is carried out, with fewer and fewer straight faces.

Some have falsely analogized this sale to the ‘sale of chametz‘ before Pesach, but, in fact, their functions are completely opposite. We sell the chametz in order to fulfill the Torah’s requirement that we not own chametz on Pesach. We don’t want the chametz on Pesach – and so we divest ourselves – we only want to possess it after Pesach. The “sale” of Eretz Yisrael has the exact opposite effect; it is an attempt to circumvent the Torah’s proscription of not working the land during shmitta. The analogy would be apt if a person “sold” his chametz on Pesach, and then transacted business with it.

The substance of the heter mechira, you will surely recall, we studied in depth on Shavuot night in 1999, so I will not re-hash it here while it is still fresh in your minds. But a few points to ponder: What is actually being sold ? (I was told just the topsoil.) So, is there a mitzva of aliya this year, as the land is owned by Arabs ? Will all residents hold two-days Yom Tov ? Is there reward for walking four amot in the land, since one walks on the topsoil ? How does one sell a country anyway ? (Actually, that happens too). I am being half-facetious.

And here is the greatest irony: the proponents of selling the land to an Arab are the group in society most adamantly opposed to surrendering any land to the Arabs, not only on security grounds but also based on the Torah’s prohibition of Lo Techanem (not providing any non-Jew with permanent real estate in Israel). Furthermore, the Religious Zionists – the ones most engaged in implementing the Torah in a modern Jewish state – are essentially conceding through use of the heter that this part of the Torah – observance of Shmitta – is incompatible with a modern state; while those who are not Zionists at all – and not averse to receiving handouts, which sustains the many frum farmers who observe shmitta completely – are in the position of arguing that the Torah – in all its categories and laws – is compatible with a modern Jewish state. Go figure. Of course, keep in mind that the great advantage of the heter is that it supports Jewish farmers, and that itself is an important mitzva.

Add to this the fact that the Chief Rabbinate has been lukewarm in its endorsement of the heter, that many jurisdictions have prohibited use of the heter, that the Rabbanut has been ordered by the High Court of Justice to implement the heter (!) and that a new Rabbinical organization named Tzohar has offered its own hashgacha using the heter and breaking the Rabbanut’s kashrut monopoly in the process – what we have is a major league balagan. Personally, we try to avoid use of the heter, patronize the Otzar Bet Din and mehadrin shmitta stores – but even what mehadrin means is hard to know for sure. Every question has an answer, and every answer generates new questions. Perhaps the balagan was meant to be.

A few weeks ago, we were driving on the Ayalon Highway from north to south Tel Aviv. To be more accurate, we were really sitting in traffic on the Ayalon Highway, and not moving at all. As we entered and were stopped dead in our tracks, the road-sign above read “P’kahk ad Kibbutz Galuyot“, or “Gridlock until the ‘Kibbutz Galuyot’ Exit” (the last Tel Aviv exit on the highway). As I sat there (with little else to do), I contemplated the sign, and saw the deeper message: indeed, there is gridlock – spiritual gridlock – and there will be, until all the exiles come home and until Moshiach arrives. Only then will all these questions be answered, all these problems resolved, and as Torah Jews we will speak with one voice in acknowledging the Torah that comes from Zion, and the word of G-d that comes from Yerushalayim.

Until then, as the old joke ends, the minhag is to fight about it. Until then… which we pray comes speedily and in our time.

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Posted in 1, Contemporary Life, Current Events, Halacha, Israel

Modiin Journal #1 – My New Hat

Posted on August 14, 2009 | 1 comment

Spending this month in Modiin, Israel recalls my mini-sabbatical here two years ago during which I shared my experiences. Here follows one of them (from 2007):

Greetings from Israel !

As my black Shabbat hat has never traveled well, I decided to purchase a hat here and store it with relatives when not in use. My shopping excursion took me late Friday morning to the nearby all-Haredi town of Kiryat Sefer, a suburb of Modiin (its official name is actually Modiin Illit). Where better to find a black hat ? I was right about the hat, but my experiences that day also revealed the subtle stereotypes that inform our snap judgments and often mislead us about the people we meet.

Being off (Rabbinic)-duty and mindful of the warm weather (temperatures every day in the upper 80’s), I was dressed in civilian clothing: a blue polo shirt, with a USS Arizona insignia, picked up on a visit to Pearl Harbor several years ago. The outfit was mild by Teaneck standards but shockingly modern in Kiryat Sefer, which is a sea of white shirts and blacks pants. Kiryat Sefer is a growing city of now more than 15,000 souls, and, unfamiliar with the area, I stopped several pedestrians and asked (in Hebrew) for the location of the nearest hat shop. “What type of hat ?”, they asked, to which I answered, “a Shabbos hat”, to one person, “like the (black) one you are wearing.” Each of them took a glance at my shirt, and burst out …laughing. One person’s laughter was so spontaneous that he rained saliva on our car. The unstated enigma was: what would a person wearing a blue polo shirt want with a black Shabbos hat ? Nevertheless, in true Israeli style, I was told, in rapid-fire Hebrew “straight, left, right, right, left, straight” and there it was.

The store was divided into different individually owned sections, and unfortunately, the hat department of that place was (sort-of) closed – the proprietor had left earlier that morning. Fortunately, I am resourceful, and told his neighbor-merchant that I can’t start Shabbat without a hat, and I would deal with him, a very pleasant Sephardi, who said “Bechavod”, which I took to mean “help yourself.” Within a few minutes, I found the perfect hat that needed steam-cleaning that the other merchant (a shirt salesman) had no idea how to do. Again, “Bechavod”, and I turned on the steam machine (violating, I am sure, some OSHA regulation) and, after burning my thumb on the first attempt, successfully steam-cleaned my new hat, and picked up a handy skill in the process. The Sephardi was genuinely impressed, and asked me if I was ever in the hat business. I paid him – in fact, bought a white shirt from him also – and departed with my new black hat, to accompany my blue shirt.

Fast forward several hours to my first Shabbat, spent in a small yishuv near Modiin. As I entered the shul dressed in my brand new white shirt, my sparkling new black hat and my old black suit I was greeted by hundreds of people clad in white shirts and kipot serugot. I stood out (not that it bothers me), but now in a completely different way. In the early afternoon, I was the “Modern” amidst the Haredim; now I was the “Haredi” amidst the “Moderns”. People assumed they could discern my personality, world-view, or spiritual commitment through my clothing. Somehow, though, I felt like the same person the entire day.

Uniforms serve to bind a person to a team, a cause, a profession and the like. They help us form a superficial judgment of the person before us: soldier, policeman, doctor, Yankee or Met, etc. They tell us little more, and little more that it important. Yet, we often presume to understand an individual, simply by virtue of his/her clothing or facial hair or accent. The prophet Shmuel thought he could identify G-d’s anointed by his external appearance and characteristics, until Hashem led him to anoint Dovid “… for it is not as man sees – man sees what his eyes behold, but Hashem sees into the heart” (I Shmuel 16:7). We cannot see into the heart; would, then, that we not think we know anything about anyone’s inner world.

Jews have a uniform too – a uniform of mitzvot. We cover our heads and men wear tzitzit; beyond that, no dress is prescribed by the Torah, nor does the pious Jew adhere to any particular color scheme (all rumors to the contrary notwithstanding). Clothing, and one’s appearance generally, should be clean, neat, presentable, dignified, modest and unpretentious. And a person’s true nature is revealed through his/her deeds and thoughts, through our values and commitments, and through our goals and aspirations. If, for example, the variety of kippot worn today – each different in size, texture, material and color – tell us with what “team” a person identifies, it still tells us nothing about what type of player he is on that “team”. Our handbook of facile descriptions is often as misleading as it is definitive. It distorts more often than it illuminates, but it is so prevalent that it is nearly impossible to disavow. Yet, that is required of us, so we form an opinion of others based on their discernible qualities of character and not the “team” with which they identify, and so grow in love and appreciation of all Jews.

Shabbat Shalom from Israel !