Why Visit Again?

Dear Friends,

I often hear people say they’ve been to Israel so many times. Why go again? To me, that’s like saying, I’ve seen my family so many times, why visit again? Going to Israel is always energizing. It has the familiarity of home and the newness of adventure travel. This past trip was no exception.

I was visiting with some of the programs of The Jewish Agency in Jerusalem and its suburbs. This past Thursday, I met a group of young, single immigrants studying at Ulpan Etzion from 25 different countries. Most were getting ready to go into the IDF, the army, after a six month stay at the absorption center. I met troubled kids in the Qiryat Year’im Youth Village, mostly from broken homes of immigrant parents. Then I got to listen in on a rehearsal of a band of percussionists that included Argentinean and American Jewish students participating in a Masa Israel Journey program at the Jerusalem Academy of Music and Hebrew University's Rothberg School. The percussion studio was in the basement. That was a good thing. It was very loud. The piece was by a Japanese composer, one of the percussionists was Japanese, four were Israelis (including an Ethiopian, a Russian and two Sabras) and one was an Argentinean.

Israel's demography is highly unusual because of our disproportionate number of immigrants. This, in turn, makes social service needs very complex and disproportionately high compared to other developed nations. I am deeply proud that Israel has made the commitment it has to absorbing immigrants, despite the high cost of social services in a nation under the strain of intense security costs.

If we take the Jewish mission to be a light onto the nations seriously, then we also have to do our part to make sure Israel has the capacity to keep inviting immigrants and nurturing them, especially the most vulnerable. We need to bring more young people over for meaningful long-term visits.

Last week, I encountered a cacophony of different voices. Many voices can make it hard sometimes to hear any one voice. But many voices also make beautiful – if occasionally very loud – music. Together, we make unimaginable dreams happen.

Misha

Hearing the Most Important Stories

Dear Friends,

We are only a few days away from reliving the exodus experience, fulfilling the commandment to see ourselves as if we were leaving Egypt. It’s great to know that it is still happening in our lifetime. We finally have the capacity to redeem others and the influence to do so.

It's going to be 25 years this December since 250,000 people were on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. to "let my people go" during the Reagan/Gorbachev summit. Those who were there will never forget it. And it opened up the gates that allowed one million Jews to leave the Soviet Union. But our kids don't know about it because we have not told them.

We also don't tell them that we are still bringing Jews to Israel - almost 20,000 a year. Many come to fulfill a lifelong dream of aliyah. Some are brought to Israel on rescue missions like our brothers in Ethiopia. This year, absorption centers all around Israel will host a Passover Seder, and many Ethiopians will make good on the vision in the Haggadah: “Next year in Jerusalem”.

Our children need to hear these stories. It says four separate times in the Bible that we must tell our children about the exodus. Our stories must become their stories. We have ancient stories of oppression, justice and freedom. We have modern stories of oppression, justice and freedom.

So this year at your Passover table, as you read the Haggadah with family and friends, take time to deliver not one story but many stories of redemption. I would not be here had someone not told my story. And thank you for my freedom. It was the best afikoman present!

Misha

This Thanksgiving, Give it Forward

Dear Friends,

This is an important week of thanks, and I want to share with you the top three items on my thanksgiving list. Firstly, I am immensely grateful that all of my children will be joining me this Thanksgiving, a holiday I regard as an American Passover. Ideally, we review the story of American history and the master narrative of freedom with those we love. This country has been great to the Jews, and we have every reason to celebrate it.

Secondly, I feel very grateful for the professionals I work with as evidenced by last week’s office get-together to celebrate those with November birthdays. I looked around the room and am surrounded by colleagues who have been friends with me for years. When I put these professional anchors in my life side-by-side with some of the incredible talent we’ve recently hired, I feel very blessed.

Thirdly, I just returned from Argentina ten years after its economic crisis. The Jews of Argentina are an entirely different community than they were a decade ago. Largely, this is a result of Argentinian Jews who emerged from the crisis and decided that when they got on their feet again, they would give back to the Jewish Agency who supported them in their time of need. Two philanthropists gave a million dollars back to their community to help inspire Argentinian youth to sustain the infrastructure of a thriving, vibrant Jewish community now and in the future.

Eduardo Belstein, one of the Argentinian philanthropists, calls what he did “giving it forward.” I think all three examples fit this description. When your kids grow up and come back as special young adults, you feel proud that your investment in them will help them give it forward. When you are committed to your colleagues in one job, sometimes they follow you to another, and they give it forward. When you receive the blessings of support in your dark hour, you show your deepest appreciation by giving it forward for the next generation. Thank you isn’t always enough. We show we’re most grateful when we create a new round of thanks through acts of goodness.

I never forget that I am on the giving end of gratitude. That consciousness creates both a sense of blessing and a sense of responsibility. This Thanksgiving, give it forward.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Misha

A Son Returns

Dear Friends,

While we all wait for the moment when we can firmly say, “Shehecheyanu” –and thank God for reaching this day, I want to tell you how special it was to be in Israel when the news was announced that Gilad Shalit would be released. I was in the airport waiting for my flight home when suddenly the place was buzzing with excitement. My first thought, I must confess, was the hope that this was for real since we have been led down this path before, but when news of the deal became more detailed and promising, I felt a great sense of relief.

For me, perhaps more than any other mitzvah, the commandment of pidyon shivuim – redeeming captives – touches my heart. No doubt, it has a lot to do with my own history but it also reflects, in my mind, our profound commitment as a people to life and the life of each and every member of our community. The mitzvah also speaks to peoplehood. We are not one unless we take care of everyone, unless we feel the pain of even one Jewish person in harm’s way. Gilad represents the enduring hope we all have that we will ultimately survive and thrive because of our compassion and our actions.

I am well aware of the moral complexities of this case, and I do not want to dismiss them, even if there are no easy and ready answers. But for right now, I want to live in the moment of redemption, to try to imagine the feeling of what Gilad’s family will experience when they hug their son for the first time in five years. I want to feel those tears and be carried by that powerful love.

A joyous Sukkot to you all – which is now even more joyous.

Renewal and Recycle

Dear Friends,

It’s that time again. We buy our apples and honey and set the table for our families. We begin the year again with all the excitement that new beginnings generate. But when you’re Jewish and part of a four-thousand year old family, you can never really do anything new. You just learn to recycle better.

We have a special word for that recycling process. It’s called renewal. As we close the summer months, many of us think of renewal in relation to vacations. We rest and recover. We want to see new places and come back with a new energy to face old challenges and opportunities. But we are not completely changed. We are merely new and improved.

Why do I say that? We live in a culture that loves what is new and tosses out what is old. We want what is different. We dispose of what is last year. But when you’re Jewish, renewal becomes a more important value than change for the sake of change. It’s not about a brand-new idea, a brand-new organization, a brand-new brand. The Jewish calendar teaches us to appreciate the beauty of a repeated cycle, a perspective on time that does not reject tradition but sees the old, the sacred and the valued in a new way.

From a leadership perspective, this approach is critical. We value community while trying to reinvent it and make it better. We value our lives but want to improve the way that we live. We strengthen our friendships not by continually seeking new ones, but by deepening our commitment to the friends that we already have. We seek closeness with our families. It’s easy to move-on. It’s harder to pay more attention.

Each morning now we blow a shofar in synagogue. It’s a very old instrument, maybe our oldest. But it makes a penetrating sound which invites us into a new renewal process. May we accept that invitation to make the old new and the new integrated into the old, and may we and our families be blessed with health, happiness and meaning in the year ahead.

Misha