Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Why I Love Isaac- A lecture by Elie Wiesel


Return to the Akeda-Why I Love Isaac 
A Lecture by Prof. Elie Wiesel
92nd St Y  May 16, 2012

Listening to my teacher and mentor, Elie Wiesel is always a privilege, enlightening, uplifting and moving.
Just hearing his voice can put me in a place of learning with an appreciation for his masterful teaching. The words that pour out are soothing and healing. I always feel moved and humbled when I have the opportunity to learn from him.

These are some of the teachings I came away with at his most recent lecture, Return to the Akeda- Why I Love Isaac.

Life is not made of years but moments. Isaac lived a unique moment in history, a solitary moment. There has been much written about Abraham, but not enough about Isaac. Although it’s called, Akeidat Yitzchak, it’s centered on Abraham.  Midrash helps us in our quest for learning, our quest for study. Midrash, from the word, Lid’rosh, to study and extract hidden meanings- it can take centuries to search out these hidden meanings. Learning carries it’s own rewards.
Isaac- what do we know about him? He was almost sacrificed, he almost died and was saved by the voice of an angel. We read about Abraham but not his son’s unspeakable suffering.
Elie Wiesel loves Isaac- he suffered so much, he was used by the Almighty… why did his son have to experience fear and trembling? Can a being be used as a means? Why was the son’s fate also tested? Who is the central figure, Abraham or Isaac? It seems unjust to Elie Wiesel if Abraham and G-d had a problem, why should Isaac pay the price of proving loyalty?

Is Isaac the first survivor? Abraham returned from Mount Moriah alone- he left Isaac there? Imagine his loneliness! The relationship is not recorded of Isaac and Abraham as they got older. Isaac was 37 at the Akeidah- he must have been spoiled by his mother, his father traveled a lot. Finally he had a special moment with his father, they walked together, yachdav- to bring a sacrifice together. Isaac was promised an adventure with his father, walking 3 days and 3 nights in silence. Isaac’s curiosity turned into anguish. They were walking to Mount Moriah to bring an offering to G-d- does Isaac know the tragic truth?  They both build an alter, Isaac carries the wood, but where is the sacrificial lamb?
“ G-d will show it to us”. An angel puts his hand on Abraham, “ Al tishlach yad’cha -do not lay a hand on the lad “
Why has Elie Wiesel chosen to return to the Akeidah 4-5 times in lectures?
The mystery of the Akeidah still resonates.
The story of Abraham has faith and drama. G-d calls out to Abraham and he answers, “ hineni  here I am”.
What is Isaac’s hope? Born on Pesach at noon to two old parents. Laughter is his name- the midrash says all were laughing when Isaac was born, mother, father and G-d.
Until the age of 37 Isaac lived in Bersheeva. After the Akeidah there is no mention of them speaking to each other, father and son. When Abraham eulogized Sarah, he must have seen Isaac- it was never mentioned if they spoke.

At the Akeidah, Isaac said, “ father”
Abraham answered, “ hineni b’ni” here I am , my son
Isaac- “ where is the lamb?”
Abraham says, “ G-d will show it to us”
The knife is absent in his question. At 37 could he not comprehend the situation? He was called, “ hana’ar” the young.. what was he? Did he become young, weak and fragile? Did he age backwards?

In Elie Wiesel’s life he once met a Jewish  journalist from London. In the early 1940’s he had to write an  article  that included reports of the death camps in Poland. He spent hours trying to find the words to describe it- he was only allowed 300 words for his article. He looked in the mirror and did not recognize himself- his black hair had turned white.

The Akeidah fascinates Elie Wiesel even more than Mt. Sinai. It haunts his entire existence. The relationship between father and son as they walk towards the pivotal moment in their relationship, and in Jewish history. Elie Wiesel feels closer to Isaac- it’s possible Jewish history is a series of sequels of the Mt. Moriah experience. Every generation has it’s own Abraham- Why doesn’t the text evoke Isaac’s feelings?
The Talmudic universe tries to show all possibilities. Why  did G-d wait so long for Abraham to be tested ?
Isaac is a victim- at 37 he could have fought back- he respected his father, perhaps the son felt he shouldn’t stop his father. Is this the first act of martyrdom?
We who believe in His Torah choose life, not death-
Uvacharta bachayim- we must choose the living.
Isaac’s life was a near tragedy. How did Isaac react?
What could have been the happiest moment in is life turned dark and cruel. Did Isaac plead?
Avi, Avi, the text says. In Amsterdam there is a Rembrandt painting of Abraham looking angry- at G-d?
Was his love of G-d in conflict with his love of his son?
What was he thinking? Isaac must have felt alone and abandoned by his father and by G-d.
Is Abraham also testing G-d? daring him?
What does Isaac think or feel?
He had such love for his father until the last moment-
Did father and son ever speak again?
“ Now I know you are a G-d fearing man” , G-d says. G-d knows now? The questions still burns like an open wound.
Maybe it was a test and G-d didn’t want him to kill Isaac, to see if he loved him enough.
Isaac waited three years before going to meet and marry Rebecca. The text says he looked like he was from another universe. He belongs to the past and future of our people, his faith was tested. During the darkest of dark periods in our history father and son walked together in death and were separated. As the first survivor of burnt offerings of our people consumed in fire, we remember Isaac as one who has seen the fire.
We love Isaac for what he did with his memories. He got married, he had children, and he composed prayers.
In a memoir found in the mountains, a Sondercommando wrote, “ Will I ever be able to laugh again?”
Is it up to us, his heirs and successors to answer?

Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray

Monday, May 21, 2012

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Tomorrow's Synagogue Today- Let's Learn More!


At a recent day of learning for members of the Cantors Assembly, Rabbi Hayim Herring shared his thoughts on “ Tomorrow’s Synagogue Today”.  It is also the title of his book, focusing on “creating vibrant centers of Jewish life”.  I found it fascinating as I have grown up in synagogues as the daughter of a cantor and organist, and professionally have lived and breathed as a cantor in synagogues all my adult life.  Just as the world is rapidly changing, so the spiritual lives and needs are changing. It seems crucial to try to understand what these changes are and what opportunities for growth lay ahead.

Franz Rosenzweig, the great Jewish philosopher said we should, “ live Judaism- live it deeply every day, not just a few moments” We now have answers to questions our ancestors did not ask.  Torah today has to address us in our changed situations. In order for that to happen, we have to try to live and teach Torah for the lives we are living now and in the future.

Rabbi Herring states that synagogues have the challenge of making the shift from closed, hierarchical organizations to multi-channel platforms. In the former model, congregations direct people how to be Jewish- in the latter model congregations create space for individuals to self direct Jewish choices and explorations within the congregational mission.

The world is rapidly changing-that is clear to all of us! In the last ten years the changes have been breathtaking- online, digital, web, twitter, blogs, face book, iphones, clearly are affecting our lives. How can synagogues best reach and support, change and comfort, heal and uplift?
I would urge you to read his book, “ Tomorrow’s Synagogue Today” as I am, and
invite you to join me in a spirited discussion in a few weeks!

Shalom,
Cantor Debbie Katchko-Gray
Temple Shearith Israel
Ridgefield,CT

30 Years of the Women Cantors' Network


Founding the Women Cantors’ Network
by Deborah Katchko Gray

Having grown up in a cantorial family, I was used to hearing the sounds and issues surrounding the cantorate. My father, son of the legendary Adolph Katchko (1886-1958), was a wonderful part-time cantor in his own right, with a full-time liquor store — he used to say he dealt in spirits. Fortunately, he sang and never drank. Unfortunately, his store was never successful because he had no passion for what was in it. His passion was for the bimah where he chanted his father’s magnificent music, especially for Hashkiveinu when he would be transformed in my eyes into a musical prophet.
My mother was his accompanist for many years, and then helped run the store so he could go off to his Friday evening pulpit. I would go along with my father most Friday nights, the two of us often singing together all the way to his synagogue — and these are among my fondest memories. My mother, who later became my accompanist, had always been both soul mate and best friend. Now, as a mother myself, I realize that the musical experiences that both of my parents had shared with me were unusual and precious.

* * * * * *
As a young college student I sang in pulpits every weekend, and led the Boston University Hillel’s Conservative High Holy Day services for over 2,000 people. I knew then that this is what I wanted to do. I didn’t think it was possible since I had no female role models. But davening was in my blood, so I decided that hazzanut must have been transmitted to me while growing up, without my being aware of it.
The following Spring my father took me to a Cantors Assembly convention. He had attended the School of Sacred Music in its early days but did not graduate. There was too much pressure on him just because he was Katchko’s son. He loved to sing but didn’t enjoy synagogue politics, nor did he have the ego necessary to survive in such an atmosphere. Now at the convention, my father was proudly introducing me to some of his former classmates.

I will never forget their comments when he told a few of his colleagues that I was singing as a cantor in the Boston area.
“Oh, what will come next — topless on the bimah?”
“What else will they think of to fill the pews!”

I was embarrassed and shocked, and held my father’s hand tighter. It would take twenty-five years before I became a full member of the Cantors Assembly.

The insecurity and resentment I experienced at that convention with my father led me to feel alienated from the professional cantorate during my college years. I loved singing in Conservative pulpits, and didn’t want to be part of the Reform movement. As an undergraduate I had visited the Hebrew Union College in New York, thinking about its cantorial school. But I was turned off by what I perceived as a certain elitistism and high-clergy coldness that was alien to my hazzanic roots. (Had Jackie Mendelson been teaching there at the time I would have felt differently!)
My studies with Professor Elie Wiesel in college had left a lasting impression on me. He taught that being Jewish was a miracle — a heritage that has become ever more precious because we are entrusted with it after a Holocaust that wiped out a third of all the world’s Jews. If each of us were to take on the soul of one of the six million who were martyred and thereby live a doubly Jewish life, our lives would take on more meaning. We would be lighting Shabbat candles not just for ourselves, but for a soul who was prevented from doing so. I have taken that suggestion to heart ever since. I will always be grateful to Professor Wiesel for this insight and his passion for all things Jewish. It has given a purpose and drive to my Jewish existence.

* * * * * *
In 1980 after hearing that a position was open in Norwalk, Connecticut, I asked the congregation’s rabbi, Jonas Goldberg, if he would audition a woman cantor. He said, “We’ve listened to eighteen men; at this point we would audition a monkey!” After my previous humiliation at the Cantors Assembly convention I was delighted to be chosen by the Norwalk committee over all the other candidates. Of course, it was not so much the Cantors Assembly, as insensitive remarks from a few insecure male cantors — but it had stung none the less.

The taunts continued even after my position in Norwalk was secured — from a different quarter. The one Reform rabbi in town asked my rabbi, “What’s next? Getting rid of the talleisim?” I looked around the area and realized there were no colleagues to work with or to ask a question. The following May (1981) I went again to a Cantors Assembly convention — this time alone — and sat with a whole table of women! One of them, Elaine Shapiro, was already functioning as the first full-time Conservative woman cantor, in West Palm Beach, Florida — without official investiture. We agreed to get together during that convention with other women in the same situation and see if we could organize ourselves into a support group. A dozen of us met the next day, some studying hazzanut privately — since the Jewish Theological Seminary was not granting a cantorial degree to women who had rcompleted the full course of study at its College of Jewish Music — the same curriculum that was earning religious accreditation for its male cantorial graduates.

I invited everyone to my temple for a gathering. I put ads in Moment, The Jewish Week and other publications. In May of 1982 twelve women from all over came to Norwalk for our first meeting. We decided to call ourselves the Women Cantors’ Network. I am enormously proud that our organization has grown to over 250 members. Still, I feel that even though the status of women has changed in the

Reform and Conservative cantorate, there will always be a need for the WCN. We offer something very nurturing and caring that is not out there. We don’t discriminate based on education, job experience, pulpit size, salary, ordination, certification or degrees. Because women were left out for so long in so many ways, we do not even discriminate based on gender! Being nurturing, caring, musical, spiritual and loving is not a female virtue alone.

It is therefore my prayer that our conferences keep on attracting cantors and hopeful cantors, writers, musicians, choir directors and rabbis — men as well as women — whose spirit is moved by our people’s sacred music. Each one who attends brings a sense of beauty and kindness, an open heart and soul to share, and sometimes even a shoulder to cry on. I sincerely hope that the Women Cantors’ Network can continue to be a beacon of light and hope, song and story, love and laughter for all of us.

Deborah Katchko Gray serves as hazzan at Reform Temple Shearith Israel of Ridgefield, Connecticut, and prides herself on working with a rabbi who “appreciates, enhances and elevates worship and constantly tells the congregation how lucky they are to receive beautiful and moving Jewish music on a weekly basis.”

Reprinted with permission- Journal of Synagogue Music Vol. 34 2007

Dreams can come true- a note

While 30 years has passed since the beginnings of the WCN, there are constants
in our comraderie, dedication to mentchlichkeit, high spirits and love of sharing and supporting one another. I believe we have created a safe space for musical hearts and minds to gather, share experiences and sing together as a holy community.
Some of the changes and dreams I proposed 30 years ago are now common- opportunities to study with mentors leading to certification( CICA program in the CA), an alternative school ( AJR) that trains adult students who may not be able to go to Israel for a year, places for women to have leadership roles in the cantorial organizations ( CA and ACC), music geared for women cantors. My dream of publishing a songbook and sourcebook of my grandfather’s music with guitar chords and female friendly keys has also come true thanks to my husband’s generosity and the support of many cantors who are using it.
In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined that a postcard from the WCN would be only inches away from Bella Abzug’s hat in a permanent display case in the National Museum of American Jewish History. We are in the Jewish Feminism case, as I donated the archives of our organization as well as my own, and those of my grandfather’s to the museum in 2010.
In l982 I could not have imagined such a large membership, but I knew from the very beginnings we were a unique and loving community. That has not changed, and I look forward to the next 30!

Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray  May 2012


Thursday, January 26, 2012

My Experience at Limmud- To Learn


My Experience with Limmud- To Learn

Limmud is an international movement of study and friendship, of Jewish identity and identification. It literally means- “ to learn” and was founded 30 years ago by four educators in l980 as a retreat attended by 70 participants. In 2012, it drew over 2600 Jews from all over the world, the longest Limmud experience, but one of 60 communities in more than 25 countries. All Limmud groups are committed to learning, diversity and volunteers. The success of Limmud is mainly due to the open mindedness and inclusiveness that is sorely needed in our world and in our Jewish organizations.  I had the privilege of participating in Limmud UK at the University of Warwick in February, teaching 6 workshops from Jewish huck embroidery to Cantorial Music for the 21st Century.  Parodies, Gems of My Grandfather’s Music, Beloved Shabbat Melodies, and Voices from our Side of the Curtain were included. I loved meeting Jews from so many different countries, everyone eager to learn and soak up the incredible energy of Limmud UK. For most people it is transformative and it was common to meet people who had attended for many years- it is something you don’t want to miss once you experience it! It is rare to sit in a class where the teacher is head of  Jewish school, senior instructors at Pardes Institute in Jerusalem, members of the Israeli Bar, Knesset, leaders in AIPAC, Hillel, a former Mossad agent! All of this could occur in one day at Limmud. 
My husband Scott attended Limmud as well, and took part in every moment possible. Our most interesting moment happened at breakfast one day. After speaking with a Russian woman, a sociologist who gave a lecture about the Jewish community in Russia today, we noticed an elderly man sitting quietly across from us . After about 20 minutes I introduced myself, feeling awkward about not including him in the conversation. He said he was a lawyer from London who moved to Israel to find legal work many years ago. He then said, he worked in military intelligence. I asked him, “ You mean, the MOSSAD?”. He said, “yes, my work has just been declassified so I can speak about it.”  What followed was amazing- this unassuming man was in charge of the technical aspects of rescuing 900 Ethiopians in Operation Solomon, getting them to Israel from the Sudan. He then told us he was one month away from bringing the infamous Dr. Mengele from Argentina to Israel. They had his location and were planning to take him, but he passed away one month before the mission was finalized.
That afternoon I heard a lecture from a brilliant senior Pardes Bible scholar who examined the abuses of power in Biblical times and in modern times. She ended her talk with a reference to sexual abuse issues in clergy leadership, which I have become active in through Jewish Women International and our local Danbury Women’s Center. She herself was a victim of a rabbi growing up. The interest was so strong, she gave a lecture on it the next day.  Judy Klitsner, also was on the panel “ Voices from Our Side of The Curtain” I was fortunate to share with her. As an orthodox woman scholar, she was clearly a scholar and rabbinical in her own way.  Later that day we heard a senior leader from AIPAC  talk about what it takes to be a strategic ally of the USA. It was interesting to hear the perception of America from so many different countries. We all understood why Israel is so important to America and to the civilized world.
Choosing from dozens of lectures at any given time slot was challenging, and rewarding. There were programs for children, young families, and everyone else. Lighting the menorah each night of Hanukkah was special, and I was delighted to lead the candlelighting one of those nights with children singing songs I had taught them that day. We are all connected- we share so many common bonds, and Limmud helps strengthen them.
I encourage you to look at the www.limmud.org website. Find a Limmud program and attend! The Jerusalem Post says, “ Limmud may be a new sociological phenomenon”.  May we all rekindle our love of Judaism through study and sharing in the Limmud experience.
Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray

Domestic Violence and Dina


D’var Torah  Clergy Task Force  Jewish Women International


Cantor Deborah Katchko-Gray  Temple Shearith Israel Ridgefield,CT


When I was asked to give a d’var Torah for the Clergy Task Force, I hoped I would have something relevant to share given our focus on domestic violence. Looking at the Torah portion last week, Vayishlach,
 the story of Jacob transitioning to the story of Israel and the rape of Dinah and subsequent  slaughter of the city of Shechem, I knew there was more than enough to delve into.
In the story of Dinah, I find much of it terribly disturbing-
Dinah, Jacob’s only daughter “ goes out ( vatetze) to see the daughers of the land” and is raped. In those times, if a woman went out they could be taken into captivity and / or raped. Shechem,, prince of the Hivites, sees Dina and “takes her” and lays with her. However, the text also says Shechem loves Dinah, his soul cleaves to her ( vatikbak nafsho_) Shechem wanted to marry Dina, but her brothers demanded that all the men of Shechem get circumcised, when they do, Simeon and Levi Dina’s brothers killed them.  Rashi believes Shechem and his father Hamor wanted the Jews’ cattle and property and wished through assimilation, to incorporate it all. Phyllis Chesler thinks Rashi has a good point- She says, “ few rapists fall in love with their victoms, unless they see further gain for themselves. It is rare for a kidnapper-rapist to hold a beloved hostage while he negotiates with a potential father in law for her hand in marriage. “
 Simeon and Levi rescued their sister Dina from the house of Shechem, but then kill all the men in the family.  Ellen Frankel, in her commentary on the Torah, says that the brothers recognized that honor stolen can never be recouped. Hamor, the father of Shechem proposed a payment which may have turned the rape into prostitution.
Survivors of rape, torture or genocide say the most lasting harm occurs when the victim is blamed, and the pain minimized or mocked.

I wish that Dina’s brothers had chosen to confront Shechem, and deal just with him.
I believe killing all of Shechem’s male relatives and taking the women and children into captivity was cruel and created more suffering.
The Torah does not tell us what became of Dina. In fact, it tells us nothing about Dina's thoughts or feelings. On his deathbed, Jacob blesses his sons, the future tribes of Israel. He never mentions Dina. In recent years feminist interpreters of the Torah have provided Dina with a voice in imaginative retellings of her story. When the UN Security Council passed Resolution 1325, its members made a commitment to work towards a world in which women's voices would always be heard.
In a searing commentary, Phyllis Chesler, a feminist psychologist, dissects the reactions to the rape of Dina. Her brothers take revenge by killing Shechem and all the men of his community. Their father, Jacob, reprimands them for their overreaction. Yes, it is an overreaction, writes Chesler, but we can also learn something from it. The brothers treat the rape as a capital crime and rescue their sister from her tormentor. Their outrage and sense of urgency are unusual and admirable.
There is a lesson here for us. It is important to act in the face of injustice.   My teacher and mentor, Elie Wiesel, says we must act quickly when faced with injustice and hate.   Each of us can do something about domestic violence, and being part of this task force is an important step along the way to insure that we are prepared when faced with the injustice of domestic violence to act quickly, support the victims and work towards justice. One final thought, my dear cousin, Cantor Leopold Szneer , a Holocaust survivor and mentor to 8 rabbis in his long 55 year career, taught me: There are blessings for everything in Judaism, except for giving tzedakah. It is more important to act and do act of tzedakah, of justice, then to take the time to say a prayer. Our actions speak louder than words-

Dina, as a victim, had no voice- Let us take action by helping victims find their voices.

May we continue to work for safety, healing and justice, and may our actions be a blessing and a prayer for a better world.