ISRAEL + USMC = HEART (?)

Evangelical Christian chaplains love Israel.  I mean they really love Israel.  If they believed that marriage could be between anything other than one man and one woman, they would think about marrying Israel.

During an intensive training seminar for all chaplains in the Western Pacific, I found myself lunching this week with a Catholic, a Methodist, a Baptist and a Mormon (the latter two precluded any activity in a drinking institution).  As the conversation shifted from complaining about the classes to moral outcries regarding the politics of the day, I found that my love of (and more nuanced relationship with) the State of Israel sounded significantly shabbier than my colleagues’.

But it also felt safer.

I have been asked on more than one occasion about having dual-allegiances: “What would happen if the US declared war on Israel?” (too easy, won’t happen) “Is it weird for Jews to serve in the military of a Christian country?” (this one required significantly more discussion).  But it’s easier just to avoid the conversation, to dial down the rhetoric, and to be true to my lefty positions.

In the wake of Jonathan Pollard’s family’s most recent appeals for clemency, I find myself pushing farther away. While before my entry to the military, nobody in the world would have accused me of being a Pollard supporter (my loathing for JP is well documented on many-a-listserve), back then I can’t say I thought about Pollard on a regular basis. 

But things change. Near almost every secure office workspace, I see a picture of Jonathan Pollard (and others who have passed classified intelligence) standing over me like a hound.  Mug shot.  Name.  Crime.  Sentence.  There is nothing on the picture that says anything about Israel, but I know.

My opinion is also informed by my Navy family.  It makes me upset and uncomfortable that, following Pollard’s capture in 1985, Jewish personnel of the military were looked at differently.  I am told that Jewish personnel felt uncomfortable covering their heads – not because they were ashamed of being Jewish, but because they were looked at as possibly having dual-allegiances.

The truth is that we do have two allegiances.  While I have never served in the IDF, I am eternally bonded to my brothers and sisters who lay their life down for Israel.  While I have never voted in an Israeli election, I get excited, angry, and vocal about whatever travesty, sham or mockery is on the front page of Ha’aretz.   And while I don’t live in Israel, I am part a civilization that has been yearning for a state of our own for 2000 years.   Libi ba-Ma’arav, va-anochi b’sof Mizrach.

As I finish making the falafel for tonight’s “Yom HaAtzma'ut in Okinawa: Celebrating Israel in the American Military”, I am anticipating a phenomenal discussion. Here’s our topic: In this age – post War of Independence, post-Six-Day War, post-Pollard and post-Liberty – “Can I serve in the American military and be a true supporter of Israel?” Should be interesting, to say the least.

Happy Yom HaAtzma’ut!

living the dream

A Different Night, Indeed

Lance Corporal Eremeev thought he was joining the Marine Corps as a generator mechanic.   He had other options: he was accepted into a few universities (seems the good lance corporal is really good at Calculus), but was waitlisted at his top choice.  So he figured he’d join the best and learn some good hands on engineering.

Having finished MOS school, LCpl Eremeev was sent out to Okinawa…to a unit that doesn’t actually have any generators.  So for a little bit, he was a 7-ton truck mechanic.  And then…the atheist Lance Corporal became a Chaplain’s Assistant.  LCpl Eremeev certainly never expected to be in a chaplain’s office, so when he found himself rolling up his sleeves to make Charoset (oranges, dates, and bananas – the Warren-way), 200-some Matzah balls, and kosher for Passover brownies (not from a mix, but from scratch), I imagine that LCpl Eremeev was thinking about the  choices he made that brought him to the back of the Kadena Officer’s Club Kitchen on Friday April 6.

To be fair, a lot of people were doing things they never thought they would do before. I was explaining “Make Charoset, chop, chop, chop, apples, nuts, and cinnamon, add some wine it taste just fine” to a group of Japanese kitchen workers whose only English words are “chop, chop, chop”.  Chefs were trying to figure out how to effectively roast chicken that seemed to be entirely made up of skin (the Empire stuff out here was a little substandard).

Having briefed up on the kashrut process by “To Be A Jew” by Hayim Donin (an outstanding book that never gets old) on Thursday, Eremeev and RP3 Quinn (the Religious Program specialist assigned to the unit but working on a lot of other things) came to the back of the kitchen to kasher pots and pans, ovens, and workspaces with me. 

Twenty four hours later, we had a kosher seder in an officer’s club in Okinawa.  Around 75 people came: Jewish military personnel, civilians who work on base, non-Jewish chaplains, random Christians who always wanted to go to a seder.  Some people couldn’t come: some are deployed, some are on military exercises in the region.

The room was too big, the acoustics a little off, and the hagaddahs were pretty bad (we will be soliciting donations soon).  But it was really nice.  Even those who protest when I do the things that they want me to do in exactly the fashion that they want me to do it, even they seemed happy and content with our seder.  According to the kids who found the matzah, the hiding was substandard – but I blame someone else for that.

The seder brought in people from a lot of different backgrounds: those with Ashkenazic and Sephardic customs, things that I remember from growing up, traditions that exist only in remote parts of the world.  And it was also a little Okinawan (instead of horseradish as Maror, we used goia melon, known to be one of the most bitter things in the world – and native to Okinawa).

After the seder, I walked back to my apartment (about 7 miles) with a sense of accomplishment.  While there were a great many fights about many aspects of this seder -  where it would be, who would cook it, would it be kosher, and what songs would we sing -   we still celebrated it in relative joy and harmony.

Keeping Passover here is not the easiest thing in the world.  Since the seder on Okinawa, I have celebrated a seder with congregants, and celebrated a “seder” with the few Jews in Iwakuni.  I am now at Yokota AFB to celebrate a “seder” with them, and I will be at Yokosuska Naval Base to celebrate another “seder” with them on Friday. 

In all of these places, I find that there are absolutely no kosher products – particularly supervised for Passover.  In Okinawa, we got gefilte fish, but no horseradish!  How does something like that happen?  Chaval.  At least (eventually) we got matzah. I had to complain after all they sent was egg matzah; other communities in Japan didn’t even get that.  I eat kitniyot, but I can’t imagine what Passover would be like out here if I didn’t dabble in peanuts, rice, and corn.

I have also met some really great people.  The layleader in Iwakuni is just a wonderful man who retired out there having found a great deal of joy as an airtraffic controller for the Marine Corps.  The layleader in Yokota is a musician – percussion in the AF Jazz Ensemble.  A fellow alumnus of the University of Maryland, College Park (and in the Gemstone program at that), he turned his back on a career in computer engineering to pursue his love of music and to support the military. 

Everybody made their choices: to join or not to join.   Nobody lives here because they were drafted: they all came to the military for one reason or another, and with that comes sacrifices.  Sometimes you find yourself in weird places doing things you would otherwise never think about doing.  At least Eremeev got to eat some matzah ball soup; it made him very happy.

coming "home"

On Monday morning, after traveling for about 24 hours, I touched down in Israel. In case you missed the memo (hard to do if you’re facebook friends with anyone in my family), I am spending Pesach here with my parents, Talya, and Matan. Hillel, Sharon, Dafna and Liav had to stay in Orlando, and Yoni had to stay in Okinawa, but the rest of us are taking the seriously rare opportunity to spend Pesach together in Israel.

It feels at once completely surreal and completely natural to be here. It certainly feels worlds away from Okinawa. Mostly I just feel really lucky. I don’t have time to write more now – we are about to leave Jerusalem and head to Rechovot for the seder – but I want to wish all of you a Chag Kasher v’Sameach! 

A Good Marine Corps Day

So last week’s post was a little bit of a downer.  Sorry.  Some weeks are like that.

This week was awesome on the chaplain front.  While I still have no official office or work location, I get to work with a lot of different people on a few different bases.  Covering a huge swath of the 3^rd Marine Logistics Group can be incredibly overwhelming, and that’s where I was writing from last week.  This week, on the other hand, was pretty great.

I didn’t save a single soul from eternal damnation, but I saved one Marine from making a truly terrible decision that could have had dire effects on his future career, his physical and medical health, and his family.  As my conversations are to the same level of confidentiality that one should expect from a Catholic priest, I cannot discuss exactly what I did and what we talked about: that said, he came up to me!  He didn’t have to, but he told me his whole story, his struggles, his problems: and he took my guidance!  It was awesome.

The non-military rabbis and chaplains reading this are probably going nuts now.  We’re taught in seminary to stay away from “solutions based counseling”.  The Navy and Marine Corps have a very different philosophy:

SgtMaj:  Fix my Marine, sir.

Chaplain:  Does your Marine want to be fixed?

SgtMaj:  Fix my Marine, sir.

Chaplain:  It takes time, and counseling, and dedication on all sides.

SgtMaj:  Fix my Marine, chaps.

Chaplain:  You seem to really want your Marine “fixed”?  Fixed is an interesting word, why do you think of him as broken?   What would fixed look like?

SgtMaj: Fix my Marine now, or I’ll fix him.

Chaplain:  Roger that, SgtMaj.

The Marine Corps expects results.  The command deck wants a chaplain on board who can help out immediately and get Marines back to work.  No command support = no ability to provide care.

If Marines don’t think you can fix their problems or provide aid, they don’t go to you unless they are forced to.  If you help one person and he/she feels that they had a positive experience – they tell their friends.  I got my ear into the rumor mill this week, and they’re saying pretty good things about me in the E-2 – E-4 group.  If they have a problem, they want to know how I can help them fix it.  The first example is the one above.  The second example, I’m more proud of.

A few days ago, a Marine walked into my office to ask me a lot of questions.  There were marriage questions and questions about transitions.  Near the end of our conversation, he asked me for guidance about premarital sex.  That never would have happened in the congregational world.  I loved the majority of my rabbis, but it is never an idea I would have brought to their attention.  This guy was not Jewish, not religious, and not a virgin. But he WAS prepping for his marriage and feeling that I was a safe guy to talk to about it!  He asked me as a religious leader, as a Jewish person, and as a man – what I thought about premarital sex. 

And that was a good day.

Living in a Bubble

I feel so disconnected:

I find myself reading the New York Times everyday, scanning and browsing for articles that might interest me even a little bit.  And yet – it feels as if the world is happening an ocean away.

The military has a very special way of keeping me informed about what is happening in the world.  I get a pretty thorough briefing on the unclassified events that are driving the world about once a week.  I don’t share and won’t share any of that information, but it’s not the really cool stuff that happens in locked away rooms in buildings that I don’t go to.   I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the briefing I get comes from Lance Corporals scanning their hometown newspapers and then cutting and pasting.  As for the juicy information that can only be found on WikiLeaks - you are looking at the wrong place if you are reading this blog expecting that kind of information.  Technically my clearance allows me to hear some of it, but I have enough problems with the stuff that I actually need to know.

I know Leora has written about the wonder that is AFN TV. While we often fast-forward through the commercials, during every commercial break there is some sort of news update.  The Pentagon puts out the Pentagon Channel update with a very severe Marine telling me what is happening in the military world.   The Navy puts out “All Hands Update:  Informing the Fleet”:  I have nothing but good things to say about PO2 Amara Timberlake and MC1 : these guys are alright.  The Air Force one wouldn’t be bad if it wasn’t Moustachioed March.  I’m not sure where it came from that everyone in the USAF needs a mustache in March, but getting my news from a creepy Senior Airman/70s porn star doesn’t inspire confidence in the news source.

But what they have to tell me is so military centric as to make me believe that nothing else is happening in the world.  I did a search to make sure that I could cover all the articles aired this week.  They include:

SecDef announces that there is no money in the budgets

A chaplain in the Maryland National Guard is doing really nice things for soldiers

It’s Traumatic Brain Injury Awareness Month

AsstSecDef announces that there is no money in the budgets

US/Japan marks 67^th anniversary of Battle of Iwo Jima (and I was mad that I couldn’t go)

New Navy policies directed at alcohol abuse

Special Assistant to the SecDef announces that there is no money in budgets

Army Chief of Staff to congress: there is no money in our budgets.

I can search the news on my own, and I do.  That is the only way that I keep abreast of the Republican Primary News and the current state of Tebow-mania in Jersey.  I can live without Tebow-mania, but without my personal news perusal I would not have heard of the horrible events in France this week.  I am able to talk about it with some people on an intellectual level, but I miss the presence of other Jews with whom I can connect to about this on an emotional level.  Skype and Vonage are great, but not quite there.

Tonight is Shabbat.  We’ll be at the chapel in just a little bit of time; there’s a pot-luck dinner and we will be staying late to talk with anybody and everybody.

I hope to reconnect tonight.  I hope to feel part of the people of Israel again. 

わたしのにほんごのクラス (my Japanese class)

One of the things that scared me the most about moving to Japan was the complete impenetrability of the Japanese language. I’ve always been good with languages, but Japanese?! How could anyone possibly even begin to conquer Japanese?! But here I am, in Japan, and so I figured that I’d try.

Now, don’t get me wrong – there are definitely some things you can learn to say without taking a class. For instance, by my second or third day here, I was very good at saying good morning, good afternoon, good evening, and thank you. Why, you might ask? Every time Yoni and/or I enter a military installation (often many times a day) we are required to show our military IDs; 9 times out of 10, the guards checking IDs are Japanese. It’s not too hard to repeat back what they’re saying to you. In case you’re interested, here’s how it goes:

good morning: おはようございます (o-ha-yoo go-zai-mas)

good afternoon:こんにちは (kon-nichi-wa)

good evening:こんばんは (kon-ban-wa)

thank you: ありがとうございました (a-ri-ga-too go-zai-mas)

While I was happy to know how to be polite to our guards, I wanted to learn more than how to say good morning, so I enrolled in an actual class. The one I chose was a college-level Japanese course offered by University of Maryland – University College, a U of M extension school.  The semester was only 8 weeks long, but we met twice a week for three hours at a time. I guess you could call it a Japanese ulpan.

The class was not easy. For one thing, my teacher really didn’t like me, which is not exactly a position I’m accustomed to being in. Also, we covered a lot of material in each class. Missing a class or day-dreaming was not an option; if I had stopped paying attention for five minutes, I would have been lost for sure. And don’t forget that I had to learn two new alphabets! Yes, two. Actually, Japanese has three separate reading and writing systems: Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji. There are 46 basic characters each in Hiragana and Katakana, and thousands and thousands of Kanji. Our (very introductory) class did not touch Kanji, but we did learn to read and write Hiragana and Katakana almost immediately. We also learned some basic sentence structures and a lot of vocabulary, as you might imagine in a beginning language course.

Did I enjoy the class? I really did. It felt good to put my mind to use. It also feels good to be able to read some of the signs along the road; every once in a while I can even understand something! I can fluently ask “where is the bathroom” (two different ways!) and “how much does that hat cost”, and, if you give me a minute to think, I can even tell you that, yesterday, Yoni and I went to a restaurant to eat sushi. And, while she never came to like me exactly, by the end of the semester my teacher had come around a bit. But while I know so much more now than I did when I started, speaking Japanese still feels a million miles away.  I’m hoping to take the next session over the summer. In the meantime, I’m enjoying my basic decoding skills and creating sentences in my head. I'm not sure I'm ready to actually use my sentences out loud yet…but hey – one step at a time, right?

p.s. – if you are interested in more blog posts about learning Japanese, leave a comment and I will happily do a follow up post or series.