The recent successes of immigrant populations suggest that a different approach needs to be considered for comprehensive immigration reform.

You may remember these recent headlines:

The New York Times proclaimed: "In Miss USA Contest, a Novel Twist," because pageant organizers had crowned a 24-year-old Lebanese immigrant as Miss USA 2010."

From the Detroit Free Press: "Metro Detroit celebrates Miss USA's Arab-American winner."

And in what was to me a clear reach for ratings and in reference to a controversy spun by the political Right, CNN had this headline: "Miss USA: Muslim Trailblazer or Hezbollah Spy?"

Then there was a hate-filled website that read "Zionists Install Rima Fakih as Miss USA 2010." And there are even more which I would not repeat in this forum.

There were similar events that also made headlines. Thaindian News announced "Anamika Veeramani Wins Bee Championship," when it beamed with pride that Veeramani was the third consecutive Indian-American to win the Bee Championship. I wonder what the hate websites said about that!

We Jews should understand this manifestation of hatred. We, too, once ascended into mainstream society accompanied by derision and contempt. And so it is with today's new immigrants, who have become the targets of racists.

Whether through the anti-immigrant sniping of radio and television talk-show hosts, or the ranting of nativist groups on the World Wide Web, or the anti-Semitic attitudes recently expressed by former White House correspondent Helen Thomas, many in our society have felt emboldened to assert expressions of white superiority or, as some might call it, "American exceptionalism." (You know, I really dislike that term.)

Yes, the cries of white supremacists have again been heard in our land.

And overall, our society has grown coarser. Hate speech has become more widespread. And why our society has not come out more fervently against these new and emboldened expressions of hatred - I just don't understand.

Psychologists will tell us that expressing our feelings makes us generally feel better. But the prejudicial emotions that are aired so freely in the media these days - from many places along the political spectrum - do nothing but degrade the humanity of which we really should be rightly proud.

Remembering 'the plight of the stranger in our midst' is a command spoken by the Torah no less than 36 times. This represents a sacred obligation which should permeate every moment of our lives. And all of this begins with our speech. How we put our thoughts and emotions into words truly declares our intent and our direction.

The racially triumphalist speech to which we are subject makes me view, in a much more positive light, Korach's words of dissent in the Torah portion of Korach, beginning in Numbers 16. When contrasted with the nativist language that we hear from people like Glenn Beck, various states such as Arizona, TEA and other sectarian parties, and the vast array of hate websites, Korach's cry rings in our ears, for it can be heard as a declaration and desire for equality.

At the beginning of our parashah Korach bellows out at Aaron and Moses, "You have gone too far. The whole community is holy - every one of them - and the Eternal God is among all of them. Why then do you raise yourselves above this assembly of God?"

Now: It is clear, in the context of the Torah, that Korach protests the elite status of the Cohanim - the priestly class - of which he is not a member. He criticizes those who have, in his eyes, unduly elevated themselves within the Israelite hierarchy. So on behalf of the entirety of the community of Israel, he demands equality and justice.

As the narrative of the Torah unfolds, we see that God actually finds his protest objectionable, and punishes him, his followers, and their families. The purpose - and plain message - of the narrative is that the community of Israel needs a stable hierarchy of civic and religious leadership to survive the rigors of desert life. The preservation of Israel requires the keen oversight of the priests to ensure that each sacrifice and each ritual is observed in scrupulous fashion. Citizen participation is not required.

But understood in a different context, we today might read Korach's words as a plea to whomever is listening that, in his view, each citizen of Israel - and, by extension, each person on the planet - is graced with an equal amount of God's divinity; each person is made in God's image. And if that is the understanding, then no difference should stand between one person and another.

It is ironic that, both from the biblical and the scientific/evolutionary points of view, the generations of humanity are understood to have descended from a single ancestor. Whether we're talking about Adam and Eve, who in the book of Genesis originated in the Garden of Eden, or about homo habilis, one of our first ancestors who walked upright, who seems to have his/her origins in the south and east parts of the African continent, our commonality should make us grow closer to one another rather than act as a barrier keeping us apart.

And, at least from the standpoint of the rabbinic commentators of Torah, this common ancestry that we read about in Genesis 5:1 is the most important 'take-away' that we articulate through Jewish tradition. This unique and unified human pedigree, according to our Torah authorities, should permeate every action we take during our lives.

It is in this context that I share with you my profound disgust of that infamous new Arizona state law about identifying and dealing with immigrants. It is, as we know, a statute that enables law enforcement personnel or agencies to "determine the immigration status of the person" whenever any "lawful contact" is "made by a law enforcement official or a law enforcement agency."

This new law invites racial profiling at its most nefarious level, that is, when it's sanctioned by the state. And given the vast numbers of Latino Americans in Arizona, not to mention any other minority of some color, the law could subject massive numbers of Americans to violation of their freedoms.

All that is needed by any officer or agency is "reasonable suspicion" to ask someone for "zheir papers." And unlike most laws that I have read, certain terms, especially the ambiguous phrase "reasonable suspicion," are not defined. This murkiness will surely lead to abuse, particularly in a 'wild west' state.

If simple physical appearance, or arbitrary officer discretion, are determining factors, any non-white person living in Arizona is really, as they might say in Spanish, "auf tzuris."

As an update: On June 4th, 2010, a coalition of civil rights groups petitioned the federal courts to block the implementation of the law until its constitutionality can be determined. The coalition includes the American Civil Liberties Union, the Mexican American Legal Defense & Education League, the National Immigration Law Center, the Asian Pacific American Legal Center, the ACLU of Arizona, the National Day Laborer Organizing Network, and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

And a month ago, 13 Reform Rabbis in Arizona notified the governor of their opposition of the law. They stated their abhorrence of an "inhumane and retrogressive bill" that "threatens the rights of all Arizona residents by making the failure to carry identification into a crime and leaving the entire population vulnerable to police questioning." They rightly complained that the permissions given to local law enforcement was "an affront to American values of justice and our historic status as a nation of immigrants."

All of this brings me back to the Torah's unique appreciation of the plight of the stranger that I mentioned earlier. For centuries of history, and more centuries of our story as described in the bible, we have been intimately familiar with the plight of the stranger.

From our past days enslaved at the hands of Egypt's leaders, to our wanderings from land to land while in exile, we know - in our kishkes - the hardships, the degradation, and the disabilities of being foreigners in a strange land. We understand deep inside how it feels to be chased, enslaved, imprisoned simply for our existence, and then expelled for the same reason.

We also know the hard work that it takes to survive in a foreign land. Many of our ancestors were itinerant peddlers on foot - perhaps with a horse - making their way across the landscape, in Europe or America. And we persevered, despite the employment and social disabilities that we suffered at the hands of the Christians and the Muslims. When arriving in great numbers on these shores, we banded together, helping one another even with social barriers erected.

So we also remember the joy we felt when we had realized that we had 'made it' in America. We recall the elation when Louis D. Brandeis was nominated, then confirmed, as the first Jewish Supreme Court justice. We enjoyed an immense sense of satisfaction when, in the face of quotas in secular or other sectarian institutions, we created our own medical schools and hospitals which, even today, have continued to achieve the highest levels of quality and patient care.

And Jews have 'made it' in many fields, from politics to education, from science to entertainment, from law to medicine, from retail successes to volunteer excellence. So we can really only be happy for another immigrant community who also desires to succeed in our country of possibilities.

So I return to the words of Korach in our parashah: "The whole community is holy - every one of them - and the Eternal God is among all of them. Why then does anyone raise himself or herself above this assembly of God?"

So when an Arab American wins a Miss USA beauty pageant, or when a Hindi American wins, for the third straight year, the national Spelling Bee, we see that, even with the hatred and the prevalent name calling; even with the steepness of the climb: other minorities, too, are beginning to make it in our country.

And this should make us proud. Perhaps even hopeful. But certainly very proud!

Does Elie Wiesel Deserve the Benefit of the Doubt? One Nobel Laureate Speaks to Another

Elie Wiesel is an optimist, and an optimist who survived the Holocaust is someone to whom we must attend. And so it is with sensitivity and care that we must read his recent plea (his full page ad in major newspapers in April 2010) to defer discussions on the future status of Jerusalem.

The ad that appeared in the New York Times is not addressed to any particular party, though many have (correctly, I think!) inferred that it is directed against the Obama administration, and that it refers to its current diplomatic dispute with Israel.

But what if his message was addressed to Israel and its leaders?

This is what Wiesel writes:

“What is the solution? Pressure will not produce a solution. Is there a solution? There must be, there will be. Why tackle the most complex and sensitive problem prematurely? Why not first take steps that will allow the Israeli and Palestinian communities to find ways to live together in an atmosphere of security. Why not leave the most difficult, the most sensitive issue, for such a time?”

Readers should presume that Mr. Wiesel’s reference to “pressure” connects to the insistence of President Obama that Israel halt construction in disputed areas of the West Bank, including parts of east Jerusalem.

But what if Mr. Wiesel’s message was intended not for Mr. Obama but rather for Mr. Netanyahu and his government?! What if we read Mr. Wiesel’s words as a call to Israel to halt their planning, declaring, permitting and constructing, because those are actions that do not “allow the Israeli and Palestinian communities to find ways to live together in an atmosphere of security”? What if Elie Wiesel here criticizes the entirety of Israel’s settlement expansion in Jerusalem as detrimental to an “atmosphere of security?”

We do not know what Mr. Wiesel intends. We must presume, of course, that the totality of his comments were, indeed, aimed at the Obama administration, and that they assert the ancient prejudices, biases, and fears of an Israelite nation relying on the Hebrew bible for their validity and force. But I am a dreamer, and I would hope that a Nobel peace laureate would search for truly peaceful solutions even when it is most difficult. I would hope that one Nobel peace laureate would make the same assumptions about another.

Mr. Wiesel asserts earlier that “Jerusalem is above politics,” and concludes his ad with the hope that Jerusalem “remain the world’s Jewish spiritual capital.” This is certainly my hope as well. But I wonder whether we can ever learn to share this spiritual treasure with those who similarly view Jerusalem with the same love and passion as Mr. Wiesel.

For Jerusalem's Sake We Should Not Keep Still

This post is a sermon authored by Rabbi Bonnie Margulis, delivered at Temple Beth El, San Antonio, Texas, March 19, 2010; and Rabbi Jonathan Biatch, delivered at Temple Beth El, Madison, Wisconsin, March 26, 2010.

The American Jewish community today confronts a question of true significance, and that is about the nature of the relationship between the Israeli and Diaspora Jewish communities.

This question arises perennially, and no one ever seems able to solve it. Yet today, the disagreement over the answer to this question has recently engendered vehement and violent reaction from Jews in both the US and in Israel. We disagree about whether there can or should be diverse voices presented to Washington legislators on matters concerning Israel and the Middle East. They have differing opinions about the stake that Diaspora Jews have in affairs in Israel.

But in most cases, I believe all these voices are realistically concerned for Israel as a nation and as a force for good in the world.

(True, there is the voice of the self-hating Jew or the Jew almost exclusively focused on Palestinian issues to the exclusion of Israeli security. I believe that many of these voices set themselves outside of the community, and this piece is not about them.)

The proliferation of American Jewish voices on this topic, heard through the Internet and through a vast array of membership organizations, has caused us great angst. And angst can lead to frustration, and frustration can lead to violence, either overt or, more likely, recriminations and violent invective hurled back and forth in the media.

What should be our stance with regard to speaking out about Israel if we live in the Diaspora?

Many of us are sometimes unsure even if we have a right to react at all. We seriously question whether it is our place to express our opinions to the government in Israel. And as Jews living in the United States, we also question the wisdom of speaking out publicly if we disagree with some of Israel’s actions. We don’t want to be seen airing our dirty laundry in public, nor do we want to do anything to undermine Israel’s relationship with the US or to upset the support most non-Jewish Americans feel toward Israel.

Further, within the American Jewish community, dissent is often fraught with difficulties. It can be frightening to express aloud any criticism or disagreement with anything the Israeli government does. To do so risks being labeled anti-Israel, anti-Zionist, or even a self-hating Jew. Rabbis I know have been publicly vilified or, worse, have had their jobs threatened.

Even though as Americans we understand it is both our privilege and our duty to express any disagreements we might have with our own government – and we celebrate our right as citizens to express our opinions to our elected officials – when it comes to Israel, any dissent is often portrayed as disloyalty.

Is it possible, therefore, to disagree with the policies and actions of the Israeli government, while still loving and supporting the State of Israel?

I believe the answer to all of these questions is “Yes!” There is a saying in Hebrew – kol yisrael mitarev zeh b’zeh – “all of Israel is intertwined, one with the other”. What this means is that each Jew is connected to every other Jew in the world; our destinies are tied to one another. We American Jews may not live in Israel, but we are affected by what happens there, and while we cannot dictate to our Israeli brothers and sisters what they should do, we are and should feel entirely within our rights to express our opinions and offer our advice.

One may ask then, “Is it wise for there to be a multiplicity of voices of American Jews addressing our legislators on these questions?”

Let’s look at one particular new voice in the mix.

The arrival of J Street has been particularly difficult for some AIPAC members to accept. J Street’s founders believed that the previous structure of Jewish organizations that lobbied Congress and the Administration on Israel-related matters did not adequately represent the majority of American Jews. They felt that they were being either disregarded or, worse, misrepresented in the discussions regarding peace in the Middle East.

And since many of them believed that, because of their love for the state of Israel that their voices needed to be heard, they felt it was appropriate to find the funding – and the backing of American Jewish leaders – who would spearhead their efforts.

What about the fear some of us feel about expressing any disagreement with Israel? Is it disloyal, anti-Israel, or self-hating, if there are times when we disagree with some action or policy of the Israeli government?

Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the Union for Reform Judaism, had this to say on the subject:

“Israel needs our help … and this means hearing our criticisms. Unconditional support is not the same as uncritical support. We love the Jewish state, but we must hold firm to our vision of a Jewish, democratic, and pluralistic Israel. We cannot accept settlement in the heart of the West Bank, where a Palestinian state must one day arise … We will always reach for the highest ideals of the Zionist dream, seeking justice for all of Israel’s citizens and for her neighbors as well.”

And it is important to express these viewpoints, simultaneously, if necessary: support for Israel’s very real need for security and the right to defend herself when she is attacked; and disagreement when her actions seem to threaten that security or when she fails to live up to the ideals we all hold dear.

So, to a specific issue:

“Hasn’t the current diplomatic flap about the construction of 1,600 housing units in East Jerusalem been exacerbated by the support of progressive Jewish organizations for the position and actions of the Obama administration?”

Each one of us may speculate as to the answer to this question, and we may never have an answer that is completely free from ambiguity.

According to Tom Friedman of the New York Times, the announcement to build those units came from the Israeli Interior Minister who, disregarding the international consequences of his actions, fulfilled – if you will forgive me – a ‘pork barrel’ promise made to ultra-Orthodox Jews in that neighborhood. And instead of clamping down on an uncooperative cabinet minister, the Prime Minister used the occasion to assert the sovereignty of Israel over Jerusalem.

Was Prime Minister Netanyahu legally justified in his pronouncement? Yes. There is no requirement in international law that any nation that has won territory in combat be required to return that territory to a previous owner.

But I think a more subtle question needs to be addressed: Was it wise, given the then-current state of negotiations between Israel, the United States, and the Palestinian Authority on their proximity talks, was it wise for Prime Minister Netanyahu to react in the way he did?

That is a question that we can debate – and we should.

And finally a question particularly germane to those who love Israel and yet have differing views as to the way in which Diaspora Jews should be engaged in these matters: “Is a multiplicity of Jewish voices in Washington, especially when they differ so widely regarding the Middle East peace process, good or bad for the Jews?”

An article I read recently asserts that the activities of J Street have not only confused lawmakers and administration officials. The author, a rabbinic colleague who works in Iowa, asserts that “The J Street perspective on Israel is now driving the Obama Administration's policy toward Israel.”

I believe that this overstates J Street’s, or any organization’s, real influence on these matters. J Street is simply too young and inexperienced to have that kind of power. If J Street’s perspective is the same as the current administration, this is simply because that organization and the administration just happen to understand those issues in similar ways.

In Internet appearances and in written columns, Alan Dershowitz makes impassioned pleas for our American Jewish community to speak with one voice when it comes to lobbying Congress or when speaking to the media. He believes it’s confusing if law- and policy-makers hear diverse views from their Jewish constituents.

But every congressperson knows, if they take the time to read polling data, that the American Jewish community holds varying opinions on these issues. This is a secret to no one. It was not a secret to previous administrations that staunch supporters of Israel supported with dollars and votes; it is not a secret to President Obama and his advisors; it is not a secret to the majority of American Jews. There is no reason to pretend that the American Jewish community is less diverse than it is.

There is a way to bring our opinions about Israel and the situation in the Middle East into the public arena, even when we hear diversity in those views: Our language of criticism needs to be accompanied by unqualified support for the Jewish state even though her actions at any given time may upset us. We need to be unequivocal about our support even when voicing concern.

Also remember this: American support for Israel runs very deep, and is based on many geo-political and religious realities. I believe that stories of the influence of the Jewish lobby are exaggerated and mythic, and any expression of disagreement with Israel’s policies would in no way threaten America’s alliance with Israel.

I believe that discussion is good; transparent debate is healthy; and resolving disagreements help us to struggle with the issues and diverse ideas, and then to hone in on what we ourselves truly believe.

The more we accept and welcome a variety of views, and permit different voices to enter the discussion, the stronger and healthier our community becomes. From the synthesis of ideas there may even come a clearer – and practical – solution.

We have just concluded our observance of Passover, a time when we ended our Seders with the words, “Next year in Jerusalem, next year may all be free!” For next year, let us add, “May all be at peace, in Israel and in all the world."

Passover in Our Times: Jews and Christians Must Be Jews and Christians Even When It's Tough!

I used to think that Glenn Beck was simply one of those right wing fanatics with whom I simply disagree.

Then he offered crocodile tears on his television and radio programs regarding what he viewed as the 'downfall' of America due to the progressive agenda of our president and his administration. I became very, very skeptical.

But now that he has attacked the whole panoply of Judeo-Christian teachings regarding helping the poor, the sick, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger, I agree with Reverend Jim Wallis that people of religion should simply leave him.

The New York Times Blog site contains this article that reviews the brouhaha that erupted last week, so I don't have to go into that. However, as we approach the holiday of Passover, it is good to remind ourselves of our purpose in celebrating this holiday in the way we do.

Our Seder teaches us through sound, sight, taste, and experience that we must empathize with the plight of the stranger. But that is not its end. The purpose is to motivate us to act, to alleviate suffering, and to look toward the day when there will be no poverty and no injustice.

Judaism sometimes seems somewhat schizophrenic on this and many topics. In the Torah we read about the rewards for caring for the poor and, in almost the same breath, we note that there will never cease to be needy in our land (Deuteronomy 15:11). Perhaps this is not so much schizophrenic as it is reality. There are so many poor and persecuted people among us that we can't help but realize that we have a life-long task ahead of us. We have to strive relentlessly for finding justice and ending oppression and feeding people, even though we know we'll never cease having the need.

The Torah states one sacred obligation, perhaps two, about belief in God. (They are the Sh'ma, and the Fist Commandment that Moses received on Mt. Sinai.) However, the Torah states at least 37 times the sacred obligation to help the poor, the orphan, the widow, and the stranger. And why? Because we know the heart of the strangers, having been strangers ourselves in the land of Egypt. The priority of the Torah is very plain. What better lesson could we possibly derive from our Passover celebration?!

It seems a difficult row to hoe, but my father always said that it was hard to be a Jew. In many ways that is right. But it is also a privilege that we should never give up and never defer.

I hope you have a wonderful Passover.

God Sends Us

In a recent edition of Forward, Rabbi Ilana Grinblat wrote this about whether and how God intervenes in the life of earth’s creatures: “Does Judaism believe that God sends natural disasters in punishment for sin?

"This question was examined by the rabbis. The Talmud posits, “If a man stole a bag of seeds and planted them in his garden, it would be right if the seeds didn’t grow. However the rabbis concluded that nature follows its own rules and the seeds grow.

“The text likewise explains that if a man commits adultery with his neighbor’s wife, it would be right if she did not get pregnant. But nature follows its own rules and she conceives. Through these and other scenarios, the rabbis articulated that God does not intervene in nature based on moral calculus.

“The devastation of the earthquake is horrible enough without giving the victims the added burden of feeling guilt that somehow they are responsible. This atrocious discourse only adds insult to injury.

"If God doesn’t intervene in nature, then where is God in disaster? A story is told of a man who goes up to heaven at the end of his life and stands before God, his heart breaking from the pain and injustice of the world. He cries out, “God, look at all the suffering in your world. Why don’t you do something to fix it?” God replies gently, “I did do something. I sent you.

"In the aftermath of disaster, God is with the injured and the bereaved, giving them strength to endure and heal. God is with the rescuers, giving them courage and perseverance. God is with all of us, encouraging us to give generously to the victims. God surely did not send the earthquake in Haiti last week. But God has sent each one of us to help."

The question for me, this Rabbi in Madison, Wisconsin, is whether we can see ourselves sent by God. For many of us, our eyes are blinded to this possibility because we are 'rationalists' who cannot fathom a God who intervenes in the world. I do not suggest that God does this, of course, but rather that this is the mission and goal of every individual on the planet. In other words, God set this up from the start, that the job of being human is precisely that, to intervene and help in the life of our world, and especially when our fellow humans need help.