ruchikoval, Author at Out of the Ortho Box

Hikers ascending rocky Snake Path trail.

Uncategorized August 13, 2013

State of the Blog, Take Two

Hi everyone! I’m back. Kind of.

It’s been two full years since I started blogging. My first year was pretty much about “this is what my life is like, as an Orthodox woman, and here’s why I do the things I do. Welcome to my world. Are there any questions?” My second year was mostly about, “Here are the things I ponder and muse as an Orthodox woman. What do you think about that?” And here I approach my third year, and the following comes to mind:

THING THING What is that thing?
THING SING That thing can sing!
SONG LONG A long, long song.
Good-by, Thing. You sing too long.

Thanks, Dr. Seuss. Which has long been my mantra: stop before they’re tired of you.

But there’s more.

It seems that by putting myself out there as this happy, fulfilled, serene (most of the time) Orthodox woman, I have also set up a de facto “in defense of Orthodoxy” blog. And the greatest and most interesting irony of it all is that in many cases, the closer someone is to Orthodox Judaism, they more I feel that way on the blog – that my practice of my faith is on trial. Which has led to all kinds of incredible discussions on the blog: rich, deep, intelligent, caring, feeling discussions.

It has also led to me feeling wiped out.

At the risk of sounding petulant, I say this: I don’t WANT to defend religion so much here on OOTOB. So you might say, too bad. You set yourself up for this. Do you really think you are going to just emote or intellectualize about your life without tough questions? But truthfully, I don’t MIND tough questions. I like them. They’ve challenged me to find ever greater answers. The interesting part of this blog – and the fulfilling part, since it’s not all about what’s “interesting” – derives exactly from the friction here. But the exhaustion is not coming from there. It’s coming from the emotionality of it, sometimes, and the self-editing I find myself doing to avoid it. The emotionality that I and I alone (ridiculous, of course) am on the witness stand, defending Judaism with my formal education that ended 20 years ago (continuing education and being married to a rabbi notwithstanding). Questions that are simply curious do not exhaust me.

So I say this: I don’t have all the answers. Is that OK? Sometimes here on this blog, I will simply say “I don’t know” and it will be OK. And it will not be me conceding that therefore God does not exist, or does not care quite as much as I think He does, or that my practice of my faith is baseless, or any other host of issues we’ve covered here. It means that my inability to refute every challenge due to time constraints, my limited resources and brainpower, and my desire not to let this blog eclipse my life is in no way a blight on my faith or practice thereof.

I will still continue to publish comments that wipe me out, and they in no way signify my agreement or endorsement. I may alter the nature of my posts, but I might hate myself if I do 🙂 Who knows?

So I think I’ll continue on this crazy journey with a bit of self-protection. Let’s see what happens. Thanks for sticking with me.

Uncategorized June 18, 2013

Summer Blogging Hiatus

Hey OOTOB community,

I’ll be taking a little summer break. See ya on the flip side! Hope you all have a safe and wonderful summer.

Ruchi

Empty stainless steel bowl on countertop.

Controversial Observations, Uncategorized June 10, 2013

Why I’m Not A Pluralist

Pluralism: a theory that there are more than one or more than two kinds of ultimate reality

I wonder if Merriam Webster was a nice Jewish girl.

In a post a little while ago, Larry made an insightful comment explaining the difference between inclusivism and pluralism. Inclusivism means I don’t think you’re right, but I will include and value you. Pluralism means you’re right and I’m also right. There are multiple ways to be right.

Now here’s my question. Religious pluralism does not make any mathematical sense to me, because to me, religion is based on facts. Either God did or didn’t write the Torah as we have it today. Either the Torah was or wasn’t given at Sinai. Either Moses did or didn’t perform those miracles. If religion isn’t based on a belief in facts, then what is it based on?

Take other popular debates: vaccines either do or don’t cause autism. Either baby carrots do or don’t have chlorine on them. Drinking coffee either does or doesn’t make your teeth yellow. You wouldn’t hear a pluralist say, “Well, I believe that vaccines cause autism, so that’s true for me, but if you don’t believe that, then it’s not true for you. You’re right, and I’m right.” That’s not a fact-based argument.

If you are an evolved religious debater, you will be thinking at this point, Ruchi. Don’t you know that even within religious thought there is a plethora of ambiguity and pluralism? Take Hillel and Shammai. Weren’t they both right? Aren’t there “shivim panim latorah,” 70 ways to interpret Torah, all of which are correct?

70 but not 71. 13 ways to interpret the Torah: not more. Where Hillel and Shammai debated, each opinion revealed a different facet of the topic at hand, both of which might have been correct, but the halacha was always determined to be either one or the other. Or sometimes one in private, one in public. One in temple times, and one in diaspora. One in ideal circumstances, one to rely upon only under duress.

While I greatly appreciate that a non-Orthodox pluralist thinks that it is correct to drive on Shabbat and also correct not to, honestly it would make more sense to me if she thought I was wrong.

And that is why I’m not a pluralist.

Controversial Observations, Uncategorized June 4, 2013

Christian Modesty, Jewish Modesty

My fellow blogger Kelly Youngblood, an occasional commenter here, just wrote this on Christian modesty in terms of women’s dress. Modesty actually includes a lot more than how women dress, but that’s what we’ll focus on for today. I’ll wait for you to read it. Hmm, hmm. La la la. K, are you done? Good.

A number of similarities and contrasts struck me while reading it.

First, one of the main things Kelly laments about Christianity is “there is a broad range of what modesty may mean, and so the admonition to ‘be modest’ is generally unhelpful.” Of course I found this interesting, since Judaism is VERY specific (to the dismay of many) about what modesty means. Specifically, collarbones, elbows, knees, and everything in between, ought to be covered. Nothing that is tight and form-fitting, or screaming for attention.

Next, she mentions that “modesty often tends to be about being covered up, but if that were the
case, then we should just all walk around in bathrobes. I can’t think
of anything more covered up than that.” I have learned in Judaism that women were created with the desire to look beautiful, and that this is a natural and honorable aspect of being a woman. We should and must feel pretty, without being provocative. So, clear one – no bathrobes. Modesty is not just about covering up, it’s about allowing our inner loveliness and refinement to emerge without distractions.

She also discusses that “women are often told to dress modestly in order that they don’t cause
their Christian brothers to sin by causing them to lust after the
women. Men are not warned in the same way…” Interestingly, in Judaism women are warned more, although men certainly are as well, about HOW they look; but men are warned more, although women are as well, about WHAT they look at, and how they look at things. In other words, men are cautioned more about objectifying women, and women are cautioned more not to allow themselves to be objectified. In no way does this remove blame from the other gender – both are warned. Of course, men could be objectified and women could objectify – but typically it goes the other way.

Finally, Kelly brings up the valid ideas that envy/objectification exists everywhere, so really, can you ever stop or avoid it? The answer to that is that each person has to work on his own arena of fault. If you tend to objectify people or be envious of what they show to the world, get a grip. Could it ALSO be their fault, for flaunting? Yup – that’s their arena of fault, not yours.

Thanks, Kelly, for getting me thinking about all these things.

Uncategorized June 2, 2013

Seeing the Essence of a Person in Tragedy

Just reading an article over Shabbos about the tragic passing of Shoshie Stern, a 12-year old daughter of a friend-of-a-friend who was hit by a car in Florida and killed instantly. Two stories about the incident just made me stop in my tracks in absolute amazement that a human being could rise so incredibly above her nature.

1. The article’s author, a friend of the Stern family, describes that his wife, Zahava, had dropped off Shoshie at her home, but later received a frantic call from Shoshie’s sister asking where she was. A desperate call-fest ensued, with both families trying to locate Shoshie. Finally Zahava called Denise, Shoshie’s mother, to see if they had heard anything. Denise, who had just heard the tragic news moments earlier, blurted out: “Shoshie’s been killed! She was hit by a car while she tried to cross Palmetto Park Road. She’s dead!”

Zahava was overcome with emotion but a few minutes later Denise called back. Why? To apologize for blurting out the news over the phone, and asking if Zahava was alright, and to ask her for forgiveness.

Yes. Forgiveness.

2. At the hospital, after identifying her beloved daughter, Denise begged one of the police officers to find the motorist who had killed her daughter. “Tell him it wasn’t his fault. Tell him that we are a people of faith, we believe in G-d, and that we believe that this is part of His plan. He should not blame himself or feel guilty, and tell him that he should not allow this to ruin the rest of this life.”

Amazing. That a human being could rise so high. An inspiration.

Thank you to Dr. Norman Goldwasser and Mishpacha Magazine.

Bosch Universal kitchen mixer on countertop.

Uncategorized May 28, 2013

Unlit Candles

Last night I had a nightmare.

It was Friday afternoon and my Shabbos candles were all prepared. But I was busy doing other things and lost track of time. I finally, panic-stricken, looked at my watch and noticed that it was 7:38 pm. I asked my friend Rivki Silver, “What time is shkia (sundown)??” But she just looked at me sorrowfully and shook her head from side to side. I then saw that her candles were lit, understood that it was already Shabbos, and realized that my hands were still busy with non-Shabbos activity.
I started to cry, gazing at the pathetic sight of my unlit and forgotten candles, overwhelmed with loss, grief, and regret. I could never redo this moment. Never. I woke up, still making crying sounds, flooded with relief that, indeed, it was only a dream.

Kitchen counter with cups and cooking spray.

Uncategorized May 17, 2013

Rav, Rabbi, Rebbe

Q: Is it too sensitive to ask how the
‘veneration’ of Chasidic rebbes (or just Chabad? I don’t know) is
different than non-Chasidic groups? Is that what defines Chasidic Jews
as Chasidic? Are there some without ANY rebbe? Do non-Chassidic Os
venerate their rabbis? And how is a rebbe different than a rabbi? Which
is what in relation to a rav?

–SBW

A. My personal (non-Chassidic) relationship with my rabbi is described here. In Chassidic communities, the whole structure of the community centers around the Rebbe (pronounced reh-buh). He is venerated, respected with awe, trust, and love, and consulted on major and minor decisions. He is approached for a blessing before travel, before business dealings, and before matchmaking one’s children. He is approached for prayers and blessings in times of crisis, before a medical procedure, and when marriages falter. He is honored at every milestone, wedding, bar mitzvah, and holiday.

Where the Rebbe is no longer alive, and no successor appointed, as with Chabad or Breslov, the deceased Rebbe is still venerated in memory and via his teachings as the core place of inspiration for the Chassidus (Chassidic sect).

It is a central part of being Chassidic, but it’s not the only thing that defines Chassidic living. Insularity and eschewing of secular culture is another major factor, as well as joy, passion and song.

Chabad is different in that its Rebbe (called “the reh-bee” by the more culturally American adherents or “the reh-buh” by its more Chassidic-oriented adherents) passed away around 15 ago and, childless, did not appoint a successor (as is usually the practice). That’s how Chabad came to be a Chassidus with no living rebbe.

Non-Chassidic Os definitely venerate their rabbis but not to the same degree. Typically it would be either their congregational or community rabbi (called a “rav“) or a rabbi from their educational years at yeshiva (called a “reh-bee“). All of them, in English, are rabbis.

Plurals (I find a lot of people use term one when they mean term two):

1. Rebbeim (ra-bay-im): plural for day school/yeshiva teacher rabbis
2. Rabbanim (ra-buh-nim): plural for congregational or community rabbis
3. Rebbes (reh-buzz): plural for Chassidic rabbis