Elana Levi
People ask me "What is a secular rabbi?!" In order to try and explain this new title, I'll try and trace a few of the milestones in my life that led me to become a secular rabbi.
I was raised in an observant Yemenite home in Kiryat Ono to the sounds of traditional piyut and enjoyed a loving family life alongside extensive social activity in the Bnei Akiva youth movement. Although religious life was like second nature to me, it always subject to my scrutiny and questioning on issues such as the individual vs. society, modern life vs. tradition, science vs. religion and the like. I eventually moved to the Galilee and continued to examine my opinions on personal and social issues. I eventually decided to adopt a secular approach, and have remained on that path since. As someone who examines the meaning of her identity, I consider myself a secular Jewess, gazing through an open window bearing on the abundance of Creation – a reflection and externalization of my heart's inner feelings.In the year 2000 I was introduced to a phenomenon called Limmud, and when I returned to Israel I established the Galilee Limmud that has been running for fifteen years. Limmud is an encounter where every man or woman questioning or expressing Jewish thought has a place and is innovative in that every student is also a teacher, and in that every idea – as long as it doesn't negate or exclude anyone – is welcome. I found that Limmud fulfills of the liberty and obligation of every individual to examine his or her identity.
In the year 2005 it already felt natural to me to enter secular rabbinic studies in order, on the one hand, to delve more deeply in study and, on the other, to examine the consolidation and clarification of my identity. I studied in Tmura , the Institute for Training Secular Humanistic Rabbis in Jerusalem, alongside male and female colleagues from all over Israel; the ordination led each of us to different practices. The studies emphasized the centrality of Man. What is God's place? That remains a personal matter for each rabbi - male or female. There are some who are atheists and some, like me, for whom God has a special place in their lives. Some of those ordinated deal in life cycle ceremonies and some, as I have, choose to focus the bulk of their efforts in promoting Jewish education in the communities where we live or work. The studies and ordination served as an additional stage in my choosing values and in my educational work.
Being a Jewish today for me means making an active choice every morning. I am an Israeli quite automatically, because of the Hebrew language, my residing here and my general cultural-national experience. What is less self-evident, in my view, is the Jewish aspect of our identity as Israelis. I believe that this involves – work! I therefore choose to fulfill my Judaism through social action, and by contributing to education and poetry, where I find fertile ground for relating to Judaism as culture, religion being one of its components to be respected as are history, customs and tradition.
At Morasha – Kol Israel Haverim, I work as a mentor for teachers and pupils, and facilitate dialogical exchange on Jewish values. Elementary and secondary secular state schools choose to promote excellence in Jewish social values through action, by involving the entire school community. For example, in Beit Midrash study at schools we bring what Hillel the Elder's said to the Gentile, "That which ishatefulto you, do not do to your fellow", and interpret it in creative ways in the words of the participants. We discuss it with each other, and try to see how something written thousands of years ago can still serve as a basis and guideline for modern day life. This way, the textual source, as complex as its language and content may be, becomes accessible and available. Our Sages take front stage and we converse with them by name, holding a dialog, disagreeing and, in general, agreeing - out of respect and appreciation for the essence of the debate and its lofty purpose since, traditionally, an echoing voice always eventually announces that both sides of the argument are the living words of God.
The process is not a simple one, since Hevruta study in the classroom is rather noisy. I try and train teachers to trust their pupils to hold a discussion on topics of their choice. It is important, in my view, that teachers deal in conveying an affinity to our ancient sources and in discussing and clarifyiing moral positions from a place of willingness and security. At the end of the Hevruta study session on the Tu B'Shvat midrash "Tree, o tree, with what shall I bless you?" one of the 9th grade pupils said to me: I feel that the text grew with me and that I grew with the text." I wished him "May it come to pass that all that is planted from you Bgrow to be like you" and felt privileged.
The personal exchange in Hevruta study enables each student to express an opinion. It gives the family home, stories and traditions a place of respect and provides an opportunity to make deep acquaintance with those different than we are. Hevruta study generates inspiration and makes us and pupils more sensitive to each other. Sometimes we leave the school hothouse and continue the studying as volunteers in weaker communities.
My work as an educator received added value by my being a secular rabbi. The focus on relationships between men and their fellows helped consolidate my opinions and attitudes and define my road in life while relentlessly seeking out avenues for diverse and exceptional activities, such as running TEN volunteer centers in India and Ethiopia for the Jewish Agency.
For many years I connected Judaism with religion because that is how I was taught and what I experienced, but in the recent decades of my life I have strived to be a strong link in the Jewish chain of the people of Israel, even though I do not necessarily strictly observe Halacha. As I see it, Halacha [literally, the "walk"] does not "walk" enough (for example: conversion, marriage, women's voices) and has, in one or another sense, lain fallow, while the world changes at a dizzying pace and we could try to keep up. I worry about losing many of my people because of that same Halacha, whose original role was to unite us. But perhaps I am also not sufficiently knowledgeable. I want to learn all the time and hear opinions that are different that mine because that is the beauty of the People of the Book that has returned to its land with all its colors and traditions. It is important to me that I introduce my pupils to the 'Jewish bookshelf' from a place of privilege, right and choice.
These days, when the predominant feeling is one of divisiveness within our nation and of a violent struggle of ideas alongside violence from our neighbors, that harden and coarsen our hearts and our words, I would like to believe that my educational work - as a secular rabbi, in particular, and as a human being, in general - will bring us closer to fulfilling the vision of gratuitous love. I want to believe that with the help of real dialog between us we'll succeed in building a temple in time, if not for ourselves, then through education, for the generations that will follow.