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ruchikoval

Three pieces of dough on a countertop.
Uncategorized December 4, 2012

The Shame of Chosenness

It seems, often, that others deem us the Chosen People far more readily than we do, ourselves.  And not necessarily in a positive way.

This is a crime.

In Jewish liturgy and text, chosenness and love are inextricably intertwined.  The Jewish people is called God’s “firstborn.”  We are chosen with love.  Chosen for what, though?  The shame, I believe, comes from a deep misunderstanding of the answer to that question, and I believe the answer people harbor in their hearts comes in various varieties.

1. We’re not chosen.  Jews are like everyone else.  We shouldn’t be different from everyone else.  It’s what makes us hated.  The more similar we will be, the more “normal” – the better.  Who are we to think we’re better than anyone?

2. We’re chosen, yeah, but we shouldn’t really advertise it.  I mean, just between us, Jews are smart, ambitious, driven, bent on education and family values.  We’ve won all these Nobel Prizes and we’re barely a blip demographically.  These ideas feel like a superiority complex, so better not to discuss it too much, but just read Start-up Nation and Mark Twain and what-have-you.  It’s undeniable.

3. Jews are chosen for greater responsibility – to be a light unto the nations (see Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan’s concise and brilliant If You Were God – a book that changed my life).  That means we have more obligations in Judaism (613 instead of the 7 that non-Jews have) and a request from God to be a good example wherever we go.  This is how I see things.

One time, my husband and I were at the Geauga County Fair.  For those of you that don’t live in Ohio, firstly you’ll never ever know if I misspelled Geauga, and secondly let’s just say that we were the only members of an ethnic or religious minority there.  There was a wagon that was transporting the visitors from the parking area to the fair, and we were (surprise) toting a stroller.  As we attempted to maneuver the stroller onto the wagon, a man jumped off the wagon to help us and after we all settled in, said conspiratorially, to our utter shock, “You guys are the Chosen People.  It’s an honor to help you.  And Israel?  I don’t know why everyone doesn’t understand that it’s your promised land.”

And with that we rolled along on our merry way as I tried to find my tongue.

Whatever you might say about evangelical Christians and Israel, one thing is clear: I’ve been reminded often by non-Jews, sometimes in a positive way and sometimes in a negative way, that the Jews are unique and different and will never really blend in.

What startles me is how uncomfortable many Jews are with this concept.  Sort of like not wanting to be teacher’s pet.  Maybe this is one reason Jews rarely invoke God’s name socially or publicly (as a good friend of mine put it, “we were raised to never say God’s name, except in vain”), whereas non-Jews seem wildly cool with it.

Truthfully, although Jewish literature is replete with references to the Chosen People notion, it’s hardly exclusionary.  Judaism both tells us not to push our religion on others and to accept them if they truly want to convert.  Judaism also teaches that any good person, Jew or non-Jew, has a share in the Jewish version of the afterlife.  In other words, while Jews are chosen by God, anyone can choose to be chosen just like we did.  We chose to be chosen nationally (Abraham our forefather discovered God on his own and any of his children who followed his monotheistic path became Jewish) and anyone can choose to be chosen too.

Having done a completely non-scientific study, my research seems to indicate that Jews who have grown up in remote communities, where they were among a very small number of Jews (and they always know exactly what that number was), are convinced that Jews are different and special – indeed a member of the “Chosen People” – and don’t have a problem with the concept, whereas perhaps ironically (since many Jewish parents choose this next option purposefully to aid in their kids’ Jewish “identity”) Jews who grow up in predominantly Jewish neighborhoods, go to public school with Jewish kids and attend summer camp with Jews, tend to struggle mightily with it and fight it.

To respond to William Norman Ewer’s famous witticism:

How odd
of God
to choose 
the Jews

I like this anonymously penned rejoinder:

It’s not so odd
the Jews chose God

Bag of all-purpose flour on counter.
Uncategorized November 29, 2012

Peyos – Sidelocks – Peyot – Sidecurls

Some think they all look like this:

But sometimes they look like this:

Or even this:

Boys and men are asked by the Torah not to “round off the corners” (peyot in Hebrew) of their faces (Leviticus 19:27).  The word peyos refers to sideburns — i.e. the hair in front of the ears
that extends to underneath the cheekbone which is level with the nose
(Talmud – Makkot 20a).  Maimonides explains that the prohibition of “rounding” prohibits the
removal of sideburns, by razor, tweezers or any other means.  It
is permitted to trim the sideburns, even very close to the skin, using
scissors. (Thanks to Judaism.about.com.)

So actually, most men are already keeping the mitzvah.

Why do some guys grow them long, curl them, wear them in front of the ears, or tucked behind the ears?

Once they are not being trimmed, some like to “adorn” or “embellish” the mitzvah by growing them long, making them look nice, and wearing them prominently.  Sometimes the way you wear your peyos is a symbol of identity with a particular sub-group within Judaism.  Some have a custom to let a boy’s hair grow until the age of 3 (another post), then cutting it in a festive ceremony, putting emphasis on leaving the “peyos.”

But you won’t be seeing this:

Ya just won’t.

Dough resting on a kitchen countertop.
Uncategorized November 26, 2012

Fitting In, Stepping Out

“…We respond both to the experience of being unique, single,
“the loner,” and also to the experience of blending into a team or crew.  These responses are antithetical: if it is
natural to thrill to being a single, all-important individual there should be a
negative response to losing one’s identity in a group; yet we find,
paradoxically, that both are thrilling.
Saving the day alone, unaided, is the stuff of many a young
person’s fantasy.  There is a special
thrill in the awareness that the entire deliverance hinges on one individual;
the very aloneness of that individual in acting is the source of that unique
surge of experience.
Yet we thrill when we blend into a harmonious whole so that
the parts of become interlocked indistinguishably: a mass display of precision
gymnastics in which no individual stands out and the entire human mass seems to
function as one being evokes a special feeling in both participants and
onlookers… If one member were to make a small move expressing his particular
individual presence the entire experience would be destroyed.
…The thrill of fitting in is a more mature experience than
the thrill of being a loner at any cost. 
The immature personality may choose to step out of line in order to
experience its own uniqueness; the fact that the overall structure is betrayed
and damaged is not relevant to the undeveloped mind.  Immaturity cannot see the beauty in yielding
the self to actualize the self…”
 — Rabbi Akiva Tatz, Letters to a Buddhist Jew
Fitting in, stepping out.  Orthodoxy equals community, almost always.  Trying to be Shabbos-observant alone is exquisitely miserable.  Trying to keep kosher on your own is a uniquely lonely endeavor.  Yet some feel swallowed up in that same community.  Do we check our individuality at the door, then?  Should we?  How much and how often?  Is it like being in a very large family: the same things that make you feel loved, accepted, and a “part of” also sometimes make you feel like you need a break from all that togetherness?
One of the greatest fears in the human experience is fear of loneliness.  And: loss of self.
What makes you feel more accepted by the community: when you are in sync, or when you are accepted for not being in sync?
Sparkling 15 with healing and dealing text.
Uncategorized November 21, 2012

Open Letter to Americans From a Reader in Israel

Ruchi, I just saw some of the American “coverage” of what’s going on in
Israel. PLEASE
tell all your people who get their news from the American media
that it’s so outrageously biased they shouldn’t believe a thing. 

I’m in
agony over what decent people must think of us because of what they see
and hear (that after a little minor “tit for tat,” Israel decided to
attack
those poor innocents in Gaza). And they won’t ask because they have no
reason to think there’s anything to ask about. They probably have no
idea that the Israeli action is a defensive response to Hamas firing
lots of rockets at Israel unprovoked. They probably have no idea that
Hamas still intends to wipe us out completely. 

I’m really not scared
(maybe I should be, but I’m not), but it hurts me terribly to see how
innocent viewers are being deluded into believing the worst of us.

A few figures: In 2011 alone,
627 rockets from Gaza hit Israel. This year there have been 1,697,
including 764 until Nov. 14, the day when the present Israeli response
started. Can you imagine any other country taking all that without
responding?
 

Fear graffiti on dark wooden wall.
Uncategorized November 15, 2012

Reach Out

The drive confuses me, sometimes,
to reach out.

Conversations
blogging
teaching
emails
lecturing
I want to take it higher bigger better
shout from the rooftops
or whatever is the professionally appropriate equivalent.

I look around.

It seems
a lot of people are content
in their own little corners
doing good
working
taking care of families
crafting
cooking
reading
talking on the phone with friends,
families

what’s that emotion, there?  Come back, you.
I want to chat with you.
What are you?
Envy?  I’m curious.  Yes, you.
Explain yourself, little one.

You want, too, to sit in a sweet little corner of privacy?  And just be?
HA!
You lie.  You wouldn’t be happy.
What’s that?  You want to be happy with that?

Well.  This is what God gave you.  He gave you this drive.
And you don’t always need to understand it.
And you don’t always need to love it.
but know: it’s yours.  And always will be.
So go out there now.
and do what you need to do.

And you, little envy, sweetie… go on, now.  Go find somewhere else to play.
Buh-bye.

Kitchen countertop with spray can and cups.
Uncategorized November 9, 2012

Meet My Centrist Orthodox Friend, Daphne Soclof

INTRODUCTION
Ruchi’s intro:
I thought it was a good idea to interview a Modern Orthodox
Jew here on the blog, and I thought of my old classmate (that is,
classmate from awhile ago – she’s not old!  She’s exactly my age :).  Daphne Soclof, who lives right here near me in Cleveland.  Daphne was
very gracious about being interviewed, and we met in person for the
interview.
Daphne’s intro:
Originally,
you asked if you could interview me in the name of Modern Orthodoxy. 
But I feel like I’m a Torah-observant Jew, and that there needs to be
synthesis between the modern world and Torah law.  That doesn’t
categorize me as “modern” but as rather, Torah u’mada (Torah synthesized
with science).  The balance between the two puts me in the center:
centrist.  There are various Hebrew titles, such as “torah u’mada” or
“dati-tziyoni” (Orthodox-Zionist) or “dati-leumi”
(religious/nationalist) that carry different political affiliations as
far as being a Zionist.
PERSONAL INFO

Ootob:  What is your name?
Daphne Shamir Soclof (I took my maiden name as my middle name)
Ootob:  Where did you grow up?
Cleveland, Ohio

Ootob:  How old are you? 
38
Ootob:  What’s your favorite food?
Schnitzel!
Ootob:  Do you have talents/hobbies?
Reading, cooking
Ootob:  Where do you live? 
Beachwood, Ohio
FAMILY
Ootob:  How many siblings do you have and where do you fit in?  Brothers/sisters?  How old?
I have two older siblings, a brother and a sister.  They are 50 and 46.  I’m the youngest. I hope my siblings don’t mind my putting that out there 🙂
Ootob:  What did your parents do for a living?
My mother was the director of a Jewish supplementary school and my father owned a garage and a body shop.
Ootob:  How many children do you have?  How old/boys or girls?  Would you like to have more?
I have, thank G-d, five.  Two girls, 15 and 13; two boys, 10 and 8; and a girl, 4.  In an ideal world I would love to have more.
Ootob:  What do you and your husband do for a living?
My
husband is a lawyer by trade but owns a real estate company.  I have my
master’s in educational psychology and work at a charter school,
Virtual Schoolhouse.
Ootob:  Are you and your husband practicing Judaism in a similar fashion to how you grew up, or is it different?  If so, how so? 
Both similar and different.  My husband grew up in an Orthodox home and is philosophically similar to how he grew up, but practically has intensified his practice.  For me, I came from a traditional non-observant  home and chose to be observant with my parents’ and sisters encouragement.
Both of my parents are Holocaust survivors. In order to keep me
sheltered and connected to my heritage, they put me in a Jewish Day
School for my entire education nursery through 12th grade.
They also supported my choice to Study in Israel for a year and continue
on to Yeshiva University’s Stern College for women.
MARRIAGE
Ootob:  How old were you and your husband when you got married?
I was 20 (almost 21) and my husband, Richie, was 23.
Ootob:  How were you set up and how did the dating work?
We
became friends as young children through Bnei Akiva, a dati-Tziyoni
[Orthodox-Zionist] youth organization.  We started dating organically at
Camp Stone, an Orthodox-Zionist overnight camp, and we stayed
together ever since.  I actually put a note in the kotel when I was 10
wishing for three things: 1, that my grandparents would live forever; 2,
that Mashiach (the Messiah) would come; and 3, that I’d marry Rich.  So
I guess he had no choice!

Ootob:  Can you describe what your wedding was like?
The
most fun ever.  Hundreds of wild and crazy people!  Religious,
spiritual.  The most moving part was when we stood under the chuppah and
the entire room sang “im eshkachech yerushalayim” (a song about
remembering that Jerusalem has not yet been rebuilt; traditionally
acknowledged at our moments of greatest joy, such as a wedding).  It was
a real mix of communities – because my parents’ friends and family were
not observant,  – which made it beautiful.

Ootob:  How do you and your husband stay connected while raising a busy large family and with all the community obligations?
It’s really hard and takes a lot of work and thank G-d for Shabbat, because once a week for 24 hours we have to tune out the outside world and only focus on each other and our family (and
all the guests we have over).  We’re not the “date night” type but we
do try to sit out on the porch by ourselves and connect.
Ootob:  How would you describe how you and your husband share work and parenting responsibilities?
We’re
equal partners in parenting and in our home; the burden of truly
providing economically for our family unfortunately falls on my husband,
although I try to help.  The food brought to the Shabbos table is
cooked by me and the Torah brought to the Shabbos table is provided by
him.  He drives the kids to school every day and davens (prays) in their
school with them. The appointments, haircuts, etc, are more me.
MOTHERHOOD AND WORKING
Ootob:  How does mothering philosophically fit in with your profession?
Being
a parent is my priority and I hope that the education I have helps in
raising my kids as well as personal fulfillment in the workplace.
Ootob:  Can you describe the Centrist Orthodox view of women and working?
I
don’t think there is a particular view.  I think you’ll find most women
have a higher education, master’s degrees, PHD’s, etc.  Some choose not
to work and some do.  I don’t know of any mothers in our (Orthodox Zionist) school who don’t
at least have a bachelor’s degree.  Most have gone on for more, though
many choose not to work but instead volunteer their talents in the
greater community. 
Ootob:  How does secular education fit into this?
It’s
an absolute priority for me, as long as it can synthesize with our
Torah values.  That’s why I love the day school our kids go to because
the science teacher holds the same religious beliefs that I do and
absolutely teaches science, and is able to field questions in the
religious realm as well.  Nothing is omitted or sugar-coated but the
kids are taught to have secular and religious work in conjunction with
each other.
DRESS
Ootob:  How do you dress as an Orthodox woman?
I only wear skirts outside my home, and I cover my head outside my home.  I try to adhere to the Torah guidelines of modesty.
Ootob:  Does this impact you at work?
I
look different from the other people at work, but not for the reasons
you might think.  My co-workers are either African-American or Orthodox
Jews who are more to the right, so I guess I don’t look exactly like
either group!  But we all respect each others’ outfits.  And almost all
of us wear head coverings.  (Both groups wear a lot of wigs, and I
don’t.  I generally wear a scarf or hat.)
Ootob:  How do you cover your hair?
I cover my head, not my hair, per the religious concept of “kisui rosh.” 
I generally wear a hat or a scarf and my hair sticks out.  I do own a
wig for special occasions, although I often feel hypocritical wearing
it.  I got it because sometimes you just have to blend in.  Frankly, the
real pressure came from some specific individuals in the more
right-wing Orthodox community who don’t view my style of head-covering
as legit, so when I attend those types of functions I wear a wig to fit
in.  I’m very proud to cover my head as a sign of being married and
never felt uncomfortable doing that in the secular environment.
Ootob:  Is it hard for you to follow these rules?  What’s the hardest part?
No,
for the most part it’s not, because I think it bring beauty and
structure to my life.  It was a real choice for me. I wasn’t born into
it and therefore I’m passionate about that decision.
Ootob:  What is your favorite part of being an Orthodox woman?
The
laws and guidelines on the beauty of family purity (mikveh) and the way
women are praised and valued as the linchpin of the Jewish home. In other words, being a Jewish wife and mother.
CENTRIST ORTHODOXY
Ootob:  When did Centrist Orthodoxy begin?
It’s just an evolving process as we try to strive to live both a Torah observant life and live in the modern world.
Ootob:  What is the best aspect of Centrist Orthodoxy, in your experience?
Being able to question why and how we do things and finding educated answers from Torah scholars as well as secular experts.
Ootob:  What is its challenge?
Living
in the shade of gray is challenging because you are constantly choosing
and thinking.  It’s never black and white (outside of the 613 laws). 
It’s what makes it nice, and it’s what makes it hard.
Ootob:  How does Centrist Orthodoxy handle some of the traditional rules of Orthodoxy, such as women’s roles in synagogue?
I
think it handles it very well, within the guidelines of halacha
(always) but with the ability for women to feel empowered and a part of
the process, sometimes with all-women’s davening on special occasions.
Ootob:  Any closing thoughts or remarks?

As
a woman and mother, I always feel valued and important in my role as an
Orthodox Jew, and above all else, I prefer not to have a label, because
I feel that all Jews are part of one large group, and although we all
may practice differently, fundamentally we are all part of the same
religion.  Although this interview is about what makes me different, I
want to stress that the things I value about Judaism are the things that
make us all alike.  We are one people.

Inspirational quote about body and soul.
Uncategorized October 31, 2012

Quick Show of Hands

What percentage of my readership is Orthodox?  Please leave me a short comment, even if you are not a “commenter”: are you Orthodox?
Yes, no, sometimes, unsure?
Thanks.