Rabbi Arthur Weiner, top, Rabbi Benjamin Yudin, Rabbi Jordan Millstein, Rabbi Ephraim Simon, and Rabbi Neil Tow

Calling Florida Pastor Terry Jones’ proposed burning of the Koran on Sept. 11 both “catastrophically stupid and fundamentally immoral,” Rabbi Jordan Millstein, religious leader of Temple Sinai in Tenafly, said such an act would have major repercussions.

Jones — pastor of the Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, Fla. — has proposed that 9/11 be declared “International Burn a Koran Day.” Defending his idea on MSNBC’s “Hardball” on Aug. 26, the pastor said, “We want to send a very clear message” to Muslims that Sharia law is not welcome in America.

“It will likely be publicized all over the Islamic world, confirming in the minds of many Muslims that we hate them, that we are in a ‘clash of civilizations,’ and America’s real goal is not to stop terrorism but to attack and defeat Islam,” said Millstein. “This will only serve to strengthen extremists and terrorists in the Islamic world.”

The rabbi added that, as a Jew, he is “appalled and disgusted at the thought of someone burning the scriptures of another faith. How could anyone heap such disrespect upon another person’s cherished beliefs? It is astounding how low some Americans have gone in their prejudice and hatred.”

Rabbi Ephraim Simon, executive director of Friends of Lubavitch of Bergen County and religious leader of Marcus Chabad House, pointed out that “we have to be very sensitive to book-burning,” since we have seen our books, Torah scrolls, and talmudic texts burned throughout our history.

“It’s not a proper Jewish response to 9/11,” he said. “The proper response is to focus on adding acts of goodness and kindness, acts of love, to the world. We have to point out evil where we see it and stand up to it, but not everyone who studies the Koran is evil.”

Rabbi Neil Tow of the Glen Rock Jewish Center said. “The first thing that came to mind was the burning of the Talmud and other Hebrew books over the centuries — France in the 13th century, Italy in the 16th, Poland in the 18th, and Nazi Germany in the 20th. My sense is that choosing to burn a holy book in a public way can cause those who are religiously moderate to feel under attack and make radicals feel even more justified.”

Tow suggested that burning a holy book is an act of violence directed at the symbol of a people and that “violence only leads to more violence. We have to short-circuit the cycle of violence and find other ways to address the issues — in this case, the relationship among faith groups.”

He recalled reading “Fahrenheit 451” in middle school, which first introduced him to the idea of book-burning.

“I [fear] a place where if people don’t like ideas, they feel they can be torched and destroyed. I hope it’s not the kind of world our children will live in. Our society has always tried to foster a pool of ideas and debate about them. If there are things that are troubling or difficult or potentially harmful around us, we have a responsibility as American citizens to have a lively and engaging debate about it. I don’t think burning books is in the spirit of the ‘American way’ of talking things through.”

Tow added that he is also a book lover, with a “fondness for the wholeness of the written word and the books that contain them — whether they are things I agree with or not.”

“We should oppose [Jones’] actions and activity with the same passion we opposed the Westboro Baptist Church when they visited our area last fall,” said Rabbi Arthur Weiner, leader of the Jewish Community Center of Paramus. “Were we in Florida, I would insist that our [Jewish Community Relations Council] publicly oppose this horror, and join with those who oppose it. As it is, I am confident that our national organizations as well as local Florida communities are handling this well.”

Weiner said that despite Jews’ historic differences with both Christianity and Islam, “we have always held all faiths in esteem, even if we had to protect ourselves from their adherents.”

He noted that while Jones’ projected actions may be constitutionally protected speech — though, he added, he is not sure of that — “they are immoral, and completely and 100 percent forbidden by Jewish law.”

Rabbi Benjamin Yudin, religious leader of Shomrei Torah Orthodox Congregation in Fair Lawn, said that burning a Koran “is not simply politically incorrect but borders on morally incorrect. The Jewish people paid dearly when the books of the Rambam were burned,” he said, “so we don’t burn books. That’s not the way to do it.”

What they’ll say in their sermons

While the rabbis agreed that political issues provide great fodder for sermons, those who are already certain of their High Holiday sermon themes will look in another direction.

“As a rabbi and spiritual leader, I always emphasize and focus on what we can do to make ourselves better people in every aspect of our lives,” said Simon, “better parents, better spouses, better friends. Ultimately, the High Holidays are a time we can reflect on our unique purpose and mission in the world.”

Simon said he will challenge congregants to ask, “Am I am utilizing all of the gifts God gave me to make a difference in people’s lives and in the world? We have to look at the past, reflecting within our own lives and [exploring] what we can do to improve on the past to make a difference.”

Tow said that on the first day of Rosh HaShanah he’ll look at some of the ways “we can begin to connect more closely with the words and messages of the prayer books … becoming more sensitive and connected in our davening.”

He said the focus of what he wants to communicate is that “aspects of prayer that can sometimes make it difficult for us can be used as opportunities for growth.”

On the second day of yom tov he will continue his tradition of looking at the Akedah, or binding of Isaac, from different points of view.

“This year, I’ll look at it from the point of view of the angel who calls to Abraham to stop.” He’ll use that as a starting point “to see if it’s possible for us in what we do and say every day to be more aware [and] in the moment,” truly perceiving the impact of what we do and say. “Is it possible to catch ourselves if we’re starting to move off the path, like the angel gave Abraham an insight in that moment, telling him to stop? We need to develop a more sensitive self-awareness.”

Tow suggested that if, instead of having to fix things afterwards, we catch ourselves as we’re about to go into something, “we can be an angel to ourselves.”

Weiner of Paramus said he will explore the issue of Jewish identity and the importance of reinvigorating that aspect of our lives. He said he has always believed that the High Holiday audience “is fully three-generational” and “rabbis have to craft a message that can reach everyone. It’s a challenge.”

He said that “some of the things we’re seeing, particularly in the non-Orthodox world, indicate or confirm our alienation, or the trend toward living low-impact Judaism.” The data, he said, “are symptomatic of a much larger issue: our self-perception as Jews.”

He will urge members to make their Jewishness an integral, basic part of their identity.

“The key to helping us get back on track is to reassert that identity,” he said. “How do we go about achieving this? Come to services and find out.”

Rabbis have to be careful speaking about political issues, he said. While they should address them, they should also be careful to distinguish between their own political opinions and “those laws God gave to Moses.”

No rabbi walks that “fine line” perfectly, he said, “but we have to make sure what we are sharing in the name of Torah is reflective of the Torah’s values and not our particular opinions.”

Asked what he will speak about at High Holiday services this year, Yudin laughed, saying, “You’re kidding, right? I’ll talk about Torah, mitzvot, and why it’s important to perpetuate Jewish tradition. What else is there?”

“It’s all in the packaging,” he added. “However I said it last year, I’ll say it differently this year, and in 15 different ways. And next year, I’ll talk about it again.”

Dean Hank Dobin of Washington and Lee University dedicates the school’s new Hillel house, a $4 million, 7,000-square-foot facility funded by private gifts, in September. Kevin Remington/Washington and Lee

Last year, 19-year-old Max Chapnick ate plenty of vegetables.

Chapnick, who comes from a kosher home in White Plains, N.Y., is a sophomore at Washington and Lee University, a small liberal arts school in Lexington, Va. His freshman year he ate in the dining hall by choosing carefully.

“I didn’t mix meat and milk, and I ate a lot of vegetarian meals,” he said.

This fall, Washington and Lee dedicated a new $4 million Hillel house, complete with a kosher café.

On a campus with fewer than 100 Jewish students, it represents a remarkable per capita investment.

Chapnick says the change makes his life easier — and makes him proud.

“It shows that this place is very welcoming,” he said. “Every year there are more and more resources for Jewish students.”

Nationwide, the same scenario is repeating.

Nearly 25 percent of Jewish college students in North America attend schools with small Jewish student bodies and limited Jewish resources, according to Hillel International. And those numbers are growing.

On one hand, Jewish high school seniors who tend to prefer large urban universities are finding it more difficult to gain acceptance into those schools and are turning to smaller, rural schools, or colleges without large Jewish populations. These schools rush to accommodate them.

The reverse is also taking place: Schools large and small with few Jewish students are actively working to recruit more by building Jewish student centers and creating kosher dining options as part of a “build it and they will come” recruitment strategy.

Admissions officers and deans at these schools rarely say they are actively recruiting Jewish students; instead they say they are looking to “increase diversity.” But off the record, many admit that Jewish students bring certain assets, from leadership skills and good academic records while they are on campus, to a propensity for donating to the school once they graduate.

“We’re a private university, and recruiting high quality students is always our goal,” said Jeffrey Huberman, a dean at Bradley University in Peoria, Ill., where just 250 of the school’s 5,000 students identify as Jewish. “We’re recruiting more on the East and West coasts, looking for students in private schools, and the Jewish day school students are very compatible with Bradley. When you go to recruit them, they ask, What is Jewish life like? Can we eat kosher there?”

Washington and Lee’s Hillel director, Joan Robins, was recruited in 2001 to encourage Jewish life on the campus, which had just 25 Jewish students at the time.

“Jewish enrollment had declined steadily since the 1970s, and the administration was interested in recapturing that legacy,” she said.

Robins sent a letter to Jewish alumni, she said, “and the money started coming in.” The school began recruiting at Jewish high schools and yeshivas, and contacting Jewish community centers and youth groups.

As the Jewish population grew from 1 percent to 4.5 percent of the student body, Hillel began offering more services. Now a part of Hillel International’s Small and Mighty Campuses of Excellence initiative — 12 schools that commit to enhancing Jewish student life in return for special training — Washington and Lee’s Hillel runs regular Shabbat services and a lecture series, takes part in Birthright Israel, and this spring sent 14 students to Uruguay on its first alternative spring break program.

“Now we have what Jewish students and parents look for: a vibrant Jewish life, kosher meal options, a very hip kosher café that is on the meal plan, High Holiday services with a student rabbi, plus the beautiful new Hillel house that makes a statement in and of itself,” Robins said. “You can’t have a place like that without a commitment from the administration, and Jewish parents see that when they walk in the door.”

Patti Mittleman, Hillel director at Muhlenberg College in Allentown, Pa., where 750 of the school’s 2,200 students are Jewish, said, “There’s nothing like word of mouth in the Jewish community.”

Muhlenberg’s Jewish population has risen steadily since the mid-1990s, she said, making its student body the fifth-most Jewish in the country. In August, the school initiated The Noshery, a new kosher dining hall, and in January a 20,000-square-foot Hillel house is scheduled to open.

“Jewish families are waking up to [small] liberal arts colleges,” Mittleman said. “After you spend a fortune sending your kids to private Jewish school, you understand the appeal of small classes and a more intimate atmosphere.”

Debra Geiger runs Hillel’s Small and Mighty Soref Initiative, which provides resources to 163 campuses with small Jewish populations. Some are large schools and some are quite small, but all have small Jewish student bodies — and want to see that change.

“Jewish students are choosing these campuses because they’re top schools,” Geiger said. “At the same time, the universities realized they weren’t providing the lifestyle these students need, and if they want to attract this caliber of student, they need to provide those services.”

Lehigh University, a school in Hillel’s Small and Mighty program, has seen its freshman class jump from 10-12 percent Jewish to nearly 20 percent this fall. West Virginia University just started offering kosher food this fall, as did Bradley.

“I’m actually shocked they’re doing it,” said Rabbi Eli Langsam, kosher supervisor for Bradley’s new program, which this fall offers sandwiches, salads, and frozen foods. In fall 2011, one residence hall will provide full kosher meal service Sunday through Friday.

More than 100,000 Jewish high school graduates enter college every fall, according to Hillel, and they are a prize catch for schools looking to stay afloat in tough economic times.

The University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, Wash., has about 200 Jewish students among an undergraduate population of 2,400. Five years ago the school had 95 Jewish students, said David Wright, the university’s chaplain. Wright said the president pulled him aside and asked why there was no Hillel and how difficult would it be to bring in kosher food.

“The school was trying to reach into new geographic regions, and those were the questions the admissions office was getting from [Jewish] parents and prospective students,” Wright said. “And they were hearing ‘No, thank you’ from those people.”

Two years ago Hillel came to campus, and this fall the school instituted a kosher and halal meal option. Fresh deli sandwiches from Nosh-Away Catering are available in the dining hall, and the student center sells frozen kosher meals.

“The sandwiches go like hotcakes,” Wright said, even though they cost $2 more than non-kosher sandwiches.

Not only are there more Jewish students on these campuses, more of them are observant.

Natali Naveh, 19, is a sophomore at Franklin and Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa., where 350 of the school’s 2,400 students are Jewish. A graduate of the Conservative movement’s Solomon Schechter day school system, she says she would not have gone to a college that did not offer kosher food.

Naveh also applied to a large university in the Boston area, but a friend there told her its Hillel wouldn’t meet her religious needs.

“That was the main reason I chose Franklin and Marshall,” she said.

The college launched its Kosher International Vegan Organic option in 2007, with separate meat and non-dairy vegetarian lines, and opened the Klehr Center for Jewish Life in 2008.

Ralph Taber, the center’s director, says these were conscious steps taken by the school’s new president to attract Jewish students and future alumni. The college also felt the heat from neighboring schools.

“When one school beefs up its kosher dining plan, others do it,” Taber said. “It’s keeping up with the Joneses.”

JTA

This photo was taken the day the Weiss family arrived at their new home in Mitzpeh Yericho. Courtesy Weiss Family

In July 2003, Rabbi Mordechai Weiss arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport near Tel Aviv with his pregnant wife, Ellie, nine of their 10 children (another was already married and living in Israel), and 40 pieces of luggage. Two vans transported them to their new house in Mitzpeh Yericho in the Judean Desert.

“As we alighted from the vans in front of our still-under-construction new home, all we could see was sand, sun, and sky,” he writes in his recently released book, “You Come for One Reason but Stay for Another” (Devora Publishing, $18.95). “It was like entering the Twilight Zone. Goodbye civilization (Teaneck, New Jersey), hello Mitzpeh.”

For more than two decades, Weiss was part of the Jewish landscape of North Jersey, as rabbi of Teaneck’s Chabad House, director of the Friends of Lubavitch of Bergen County, and chaplain of the Teaneck Volunteer Ambulance Corps. His wife taught at the Yeshiva of North Jersey and welcomed untold numbers of visitors to the Weiss home. Yet the pull of their ancestral homeland brought the large family to a unanimous decision to leave all that and resettle in a 300-family desert community.

In the book, which presents five years’ worth of e-mail updates to friends and family, Weiss provides a frank look at why the family moved; the challenges, triumphs, and tragedies of the first years in Israel; and above all, the reasons most of the family chose to stay.

Now working as a licensed tour guide, Weiss told The Jewish Standard that the notion for the book came from several people on his distribution list. He envisioned his readers as falling into two distinct groups: those familiar with the concept of aliyah, and those “who might be interested in a true and honest family experience, a personal story to be enjoyed.”

In describing his children’s adjustment, Weiss often writes about the role of sports in their lives, particularly for Mendel, who was a third-grader when they arrived.

“Because baseball was an important part of Mendel’s upbringing, it was extremely important for him to be connected to baseball here in Israel,” said Weiss, “despite the difficulties of schlepping him to Jerusalem, Petach Tikvah, and Kibbutz Gezer on a weekly basis. Baseball was important for his self-image, particularly as school was difficult, with the new language having him at a disadvantage. Baseball gave him a way to excel; he was good at it in Teaneck and he was really good at it here!”

Though Mendel made the Israeli Little League national team and played successfully in a championship game in Prague, he gradually gravitated to basketball, which is popular in Israel. “He hasn’t touched a baseball in years.” The adjustments for the five teenagers were not quite as simple. “None came here under duress,” Weiss emphasized. “But like so many other olim [immigrants] from North America with children that age, we found out that until you actually go through the experience, as prepared as you may be, it can be difficult.”

Three of the teens ended up back in the United States, while the others took some time to find their place in Israeli society.

“The good news is in terms of how well my five younger children have integrated into Israeli society,” said Weiss. “It’s added so much quality to their lives and our lives. Despite whatever challenges we have to deal with, we couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The quality of our life on so many levels is so much fuller than it was before, and we came from a good place.”

A sports-related testament to the above statement: Shimon, two years Mendel’s junior, joined the Jerusalem baseball league this year but soon lost interest. “He has become too Israeli to get the fundamentals of the game.”

The former congregational rabbi clearly relishes exploring Israel as a tour guide for Jews, Christians, and Birthright groups, showing off everything from archeological ruins and modern historical sites to boutique wineries and chocolatiers.

“This is where we belong,” he said. “Although it’s not perfect, we’re part of something for which we’ve been waiting a long, long time. It’s something our great-great-grandparents couldn’t have dreamed of.”