Articles

I did not know Aaron Panken’s habits of religious practice, but what I did understand was that he found in every experience a pathway to holiness. His death happened in nature. Some time ago, Aaron had occasion to tape a message about taking up his new interest in glider aircraft. What he spoke about was the awe he felt when encountering nature and more directly, the art of negotiating the natural elements around him when airborne. He would often invite me to fly with him in the various aircraft he had learned to master.

Over the past several years on this site and elsewhere, I have argued that a fundamental restructuring of the American Jewish communal enterprise is underway. Changing demographic, cultural, and political forces have been redefining American society, just as these factors are transforming the Jewish community.[1] As a result, much of my research and writing has been devoted to unpacking the Jewish condition, defining its attributes and predicting its future characteristics. Many of my earlier pieces analyzed different segments and characteristics of the 21st Century Jewish storyline.

In an age, where communal consensus has given way to a significant political divide and where Jews are redefining their social policy priorities, how might the Jewish public affairs sector respond? At a time of generational transitions, organizational disruption, and political upheaval, in what ways can the Jewish community relations field reinvent itself? Questions concerning the future of our community’s public policy sector are being introduced here as the Jewish Council for Public Affairs Conference is set to begin its National Conference this weekend in New York.

We all live with dichotomies, but possibly none is more powerful than our differing views about the idea of nationhood. In the 19th century, the emancipated Jew emerges with a profound belief in the power of modernity and the capacity to dream about and act upon the idea of forming a national homeland for the Jewish people. For the first time in 2,000 years Jews would be able to affirm their national pride and gain their own political identity.

Over the past 100 years, Jews have experienced extraordinary elements of triumph and periods of significant tragedy. It represents a time frame of profound contradictions and challenges to the global community. For Jews, it can be seen as a defining moment in our long and complex historical journey. In November 1918, with the release of the Balfour Declaration, the dream of a Jewish homeland was affirmed. With this announcement, “the Jewish century” would be born. The promise of national statehood excited a community that had been accustomed only to periods of anti-Semitism and rejection, of anticipation and loss.

As thousands of pro-Israel activists gather this week in Washington, we are reminded of the special relationship that exists between the United States and the Jewish Homeland. From the outset of the founding of this nation, the idea of America as “the new Zion” would play a significant role. Following the American Revolution, Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson attempted to tie the new nation to the story of the Exodus and more explicitly to the idea of redemption and freedom.

Whether they are liberal Democrats, political Independents or Conservative Republicans, Jews across the nation are becoming more politically engaged. This pattern however is not unique to the Jewish community, as The Boston Globe reports: “… Historians should also note a silver lining: this is a golden age of American political activism. From Tea Party rallies to Black Lives Matter protests to women’s and pro-immigrant marches and this past week’s discussion about gun control, the national conversation is dominated not just by the discussion of politics, but what they can do about it.”

As the Convention of the Central Conference of American Rabbis convenes this week to examine the state of Jewish life and the rabbinate, our Jewish leaders will have the opportunity to revisit the remarkable story of this, the Jewish Century! Over these past one hundred years, Jews have experienced both extraordinary elements of triumph and periods of significant tragedy. Drawing on Charles Dickens’ words, “it was the best of times”; “it was the worst of times,” the Jewish century would unfold.

This week, on the occasion of Israel’s 70th year of statehood, thousands of pro-Israel advocates will gather in Washington for the AIPAC Policy Conference in order to reaffirm the special relationship between Washington and Jerusalem. In the context of this celebratory moment, we are observing an unsettling set of tensions between Diaspora Jewry and Israel. How do we overcome these deep divisions around the Jewish State? Over the course of its history, Israel’s relationship with its Jewish world partners has undergone a series of transitions.

Key political insights can be extracted from the celebration of Purim. Last year, this writer offered some generic political and social commentary on the festival of Esther. In many ways this holiday introduces a broader question, can one fully embrace Judaism while residing in a foreign culture? In a provocative new book, Israeli entrepreneur Michael Eisenberg offers a challenging, even controversial interpretation of the Purim saga. Rather than depicting Mordecai as a Jewish hero, Eisenberg in this creative reassessment of this ancient tale argues that Mordecai ought to be seen as an opportunist, merely seeking economic and political advantage for himself and his family.