Rabbi Sharon Brous

Rabbi Sharon Brous is the founding rabbi of IKAR, "a Jewish spiritual community" in L.A. "that stands at the intersection of spirituality and social justice, a mandate that is integrated into everything we do." Rabbi Brous was ordained by the Jewish Theological Seminary in 2001, receiving several awards in Talmud and Homiletics. While in Rabbinical School, she studied for and received a Master's Degree in Human Rights and Conflict Resolution from Columbia University.


For the past six years, Rabbi Brous has served on the faculty of REBOOT, a network of Jewish trend-setters, thinkers and activists, and on the board of Progressive Jewish Alliance, where she is involved in several city and state-wide justice-oriented initiatives. She serves as adjunct faculty at Hebrew Union College, where she co-teaches a class on Social Justice and Spiritual Activism to rabbinical and communal service students, and she is a member of the advisory board of Sh'ma: Journal of Jewish Responsibility. Rabbi Brous has been a fellow in the Jewish Life Network's Common Judaism Project, as well as a member of the Synagogue 3000 Leadership Network, a select national group of rabbis, cantors, and artists working to transform and revitalize American synagogue life.


Readers can send questions to rosnersdomain@haaretz.co.il.

Hi,

Despite all the descriptions of ethical passion, most suburban Jews I meet simply want to have meaningful personal and family lives. Of course they vote & care about big issues but ... I think that if establishment Judaism would spend more time focused on the basics you would have much more success in getting Jews excited about Judaism.

What about Shabbat? Forget for a second about the Divine commandment to keep this day holy ... what about the family time, etc.?

All the talk about "tikkun olam" that comes out of the Jewish establishment always strikes me as missing the point.

What matters first is what people do when they go home & close their front doors. If Shabbat, Kashrut and other basics are not part of their life ... then "tikkun olam" is simply a political agenda.

So nu...what about the basics?

Sam

Sam,

I'm assuming that by "the basics" you mean how to build meaningful personal and family lives. You are of course right that Shabbat and kashrut, pillars of Jewish observance, are essentially ritualized opportunities to bring meaning into our lives. One of the most inspiring and inspired texts that I've seen on Shabbat comes from the Netivot Shalom, Rabbi Shalom Noach Berezovsky. He writes that the reason that we are commanded (in the Kiddush) to remember Yetziat Mitzrayim, the experience of the Exodus from Egypt, on Shabbat is twofold. First, he asserts that so many of us feel as though we are in exile (far from the Holy One, the Source), but it is Shabbat that has the power to bring redemption to each and every individual in his personal life. "Only on Shabbat is one able to return and bring himself closer to the Holy One - and this is redemption, reliving the Exodus from Egypt (the narrow place)..."

This, I understand, is the sacred pause of Shabbat, the temporary hiatus from the race of our lives in order to recognize the beauty of our world, the blessings of our families, the gift of simply being. It is about allowing ourselves to stop our work, even when the job is not yet done, and affirming that we are not our work. It is about being present. The sacred pause is what allows us to reconnect to the best of ourselves, it is what opens us up to the experience of the Holy in the world. It is what compels us to recalibrate, to reclaim our priorities, to focus on the things most important in our lives, often the very things we sideline in our ambitious rush to conquer, achieve and produce.

The Netivot Shalom goes on to say, compellingly, that every Shabbat also "has the power to bring redemption to the world, ... because it is on Shabbat that the possibility of Yetziat Mitzrayim, (the liberation from enslavement) is renewed." And lest we think that the reminder of the experience of that liberation is so that we might indulge in the memory of our victory from oppression, he goes on to write that "this is not exclusively for the sake of memory, rather it is for the sake of actually doing the work of Shabbat. A Jew must rise up from a place of degradation, and find within himself ultimate freedom ... The essence of Shabbat is the memory of Yetziat Mitzrayim because it is upon every Jew to remember that it is his life's work to leave Egypt, and with the strength of the holy Shabbat, to bring redemption to the world."

According to this understanding of Shabbat, the journey must begin with the particular - in other words, you are absolutely right that it matters what you do when you get home from work and close your doors. It matters how you speak to your kids, if you express gratitude to your partner, if you treat those in your home with dignity and love. But that journey doesn't end at home. Our obligation, as inheritors of Yetziat Mitzrayim, is to recognize, as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes, the universality of moral concern. To reignite our passion for justice, to reimagine a world in which human dignity is real, to reinforce the Jewish mission to bring about redemption in world of brokenness and heartache. It is to reaffirm our role as God's partners in bringing light back into our world.

That, I believe, is the transformative possibility of Shabbat.

Rabbi Brous asked to respond to some of the talkbacks at the bottom of the page.

Howard from L.A. wrote:

It is not the leftist political activism in reform and conservative Judaism that is the problem as much as the lack of Torah observance and Jewish education, and the SUBSTITUTION of a political agenda for those things. Plenty of Orthodox have political agendas of varying sorts, but they also have shabbos, kashrus, daily prayer, tefillin, Torah study, and they don't substitute the politics for any of those other things.

Dear Howard from L.A.,

It strikes me that part of the problem here is your assumption that Jews who care deeply about poverty, war and disease are necessarily not serious Torah observant Jews.

It's true - many activist Jewish communities lack an attentiveness to serious learning and meaningful prayer. But I am equally disturbed by the fact that the communities most serious about shabbat, kashrut, tefillah and Torah study are not at the forefront of the anti-genocide and living-wage campaigns.

It seems to me that one of the great tragedies of our community has been our profound inability to articulate the fundamental connection between a halakhic, Torah centered and (as David Hartman would say) God-intoxicated life on one hand, and a serious concern for and engagement in the world on the other. (I recently argued this point in a symposium on the Conservative Movement in Judaism Journal.)

I believe that the work of our leadership is to articulate a relationship with Torah and God that compels Jews to take seriously not only their own spiritual and religious lives, but also their personal and communal responsibility in a global world.

To accomplish this, we need to actively resist a Judaism that makes us choose between religion and politics, as if the two are mutually exclusive. The challenge and the complexity of the emergent Jewish social justice movement is to articulate an ethos that integrates both.

The brilliance of Abraham Joshua Heschel was that he married the possibility of deep personal piety with global responsibility. Not only are the two integratable, but they are arguably impossible without one another. Why did the Rabbis choose Isaiah's "Is this the fast I desire?" (Isaiah 58:5) for Yom Kippur? To teach that to be a human being means to be able to move from religious ecstasy to concrete acts of compassion.

Why do we celebrate the miracle of our deliverance from genocide at Purim by giving unconditionally to the poor? Because our destiny intimately links us to the most needy in our communities, and our greatest joy comes from assisting them (Mishnah Berurah, OH 694:3). Why do we begin the story of our liberation from slavery in Egypt with the words "Ha lahma anya - This is the bread of poverty and persecution? Let all who are hungry come and eat"? Because we know that hashata avdei - despite the fact that we are free from Pharaoh, we remain enslaved as long as slavery and affliction persist in our world.

We need to have the courage to say that there is no authentic religious life without a deep sense of responsibility in the world. Our challenge is to make demonstrably clear that decisions about what we eat not only impact our relationship with God, but also cultivate a wakefulness that makes it impossible not to think about those who have nothing to eat.

Our unique mandate is to prioritize kashrut and hunger, Shabbat and fair labor laws, the problems of the individual soul and the problems of global poverty. A person's ritual observance should directly inform her engagement in the world. This is not ethical humanism or liberalism - it's just Judaism.

Dear Rabbi,

You chose for Ikar not to affiliate with a movement. Why? Is it because you don't believe in organizations or movements - or is it that you don't believe in the existing movements the Jewish community?

Best,

Rosner

It?s not that I don?t believe in movements, I just don?t trust that movement loyalty is helping us address the compelling questions of the day.

So many of us characterize ourselves as either Reform or Conservative, Haredi or Modern, rather than simply as Jews. While the movements have the power to inspire and direct large swaths of people toward paths of Jewish expression and articulation of Jewish ideology, I am concerned by the privileging of the denominational question over the more critical questions of Jewish purpose and direction, particularly given the reality of our world.

It seems to me that the moment demands that we ask not ?How can we ensure a viable future for the Conservative or Reform Movement, for Modern Orthodoxy or Reconstructionism?? But rather, ?What is a religious message of purpose and meaning that can guide us through these terrifyingly tumultuous times?? Our focus should be on helping Jews find meaningful ways to bridge the gap between the excruciating reality of the world and the Jewish dream of what a world infused with God?s spirit and human agency might look like.

The reality is that in an age of global chaos we have lost the luxury of safe and self-absorbed communal agendas. We have neither the time nor the justification to focus attention and resources on the sustenance of institutions for their own sake, and strategies of institutional self-preservation so often fundamentally miss the point.

Our people?s future will depend on our ability to embody an ethic of passionate, committed involvement in the world that flows naturally from, and likewise directly informs, humble and courageous encounter with the Jewish tradition. I want communal leaders to work to articulate the fundamental connection between the religious quest and the pursuit of justice in the world. We need to help people remember how to dance, how to daven with real intention, how to study text with passion and purpose. We need to work devotedly to inspire a new generation to become both actively committed Jews and agents of change on the world stage.

It is this vision, these ideas, that we are loyal to, not the particular movement that stands behind them.

Dear Rabbi,

Why is it in your opinion that so many young Jews choose not to be part of the American Jewish community - not to be affiliated?

Best,

Rosner

The reality is, a significant population of American Jews feels at best uninspired, at worst downright turned off by conventional Jewish life. Why are so many people in this demographic so alienated from established Jewish institutions?

Today, in light of the spectrum of opportunities afforded to young American Jews, many Jewish institutions seem insular and self-serving, and more focused on slick marketing than substance. Young, savvy, well-educated Jews are looking for a sense of connectedness and responsibility that stretches beyond the narrowness that has come to define the American Jewish community's agenda. In a time of war, poverty, terror, environmental destruction and radical social upheaval, people asking the basic question of what it means to be a Jew and a human being in a world on fire are not finding answers, indeed many of them are no longer even looking for answers, in their local synagogue.

The very idea of synagogue - previously the central organizing principle of the Jewish community, is now not even on the radar of many of these Jews. To be clear, it is not as though those people are not interested in matters of the spirit - on the contrary, a study done on Gen Y last year by REBOOT (OMG!: How Generation Y is redefining Faith in the iPod Era) found that the generation that has been described as directionless, narcissistic, and disinterested, is in actuality seeking community and meaningful involvements, just in informal and non-traditional ways.

Three years ago we started IKAR because we believe that Judaism really does have something to say in a world on fire. Rav Kook writes that it is great dreams that are the foundation of the world. I understand this to mean that the whole world stands only because people have the courage and capacity to dream great dreams, even and especially in the midst of tragedy and suffering. We have a great dream, a Jewish dream, a revolutionary instinct that is born out of our experience of the Exodus from Egypt. From this we learn the foundational claims of our tradition - that all people have innate dignity and worth, deserve to be free and can become free; that there is a God who cares about human beings and demands justice in our world; and that God demands human partnership in the work of redemption.

With a mandate like that in the world, it's imperative that we move beyond glossy brochures and gimmiks, and really dedicate ourselves to rediscovering the essence, the ikar, of our tradition.

This is why I believe it is of the utmost importance that we find ways of opening up the Jewish conversation, broadening the contours of our community to include some of the voices that have been side-lined. Doing this, I believe, will not only help us communicate a Torah that is rich, compelling and purposeful to a population that is hungry for meaning and direction, but it will also ensure the vitality of the Jewish community as we continue to reshape and develop, blessed by the wisdom, depth and creativity of some extraordinary folks who are otherwise completely out of the conversation.

Rabbi Sharon Brous