Uncategorized Archives - Page 35 of 59

Election aftermath text on textured background.

Uncategorized December 19, 2012

Fiddler on the Roof: an unfavorite movie

I’ve learned that Fiddler on the Roof is one of those universal “Jewy” references that people love to, well, reference. In fact, I’ve definitely referenced it a few times right here. And truth be told, that movie has brought me to tears – tears of deep emotion around our beloved traditions, children coming of age, the inevitable assimilation of some of our children, the endless anti-semitism. And, too, it has made me laugh so hard I’ve had tears in my eyes (the dream scene!). The music is absolutely magnificent both thematically and musically.

So why is it my unfavorite movie?

Here’s what I think. See, my grandmothers, who are (thank God) still alive, remember the shtetl. But as I suspected all along, and unscientifically “confirmed” in my recent research project on the subject, most Jews in the world do not have a living relative who remembers living in the shtetl. So for most of them, impressions of the shtetl are largely formed by movies such as Fiddler.

What’s wrong with that, you may ask?

Well, a few things.

1. No one in that movie actually seems to know why anyone is keeping any of the Jewish observances.

The trademark song “Tradition” basically says, we have no idea why we do these things, but it’s our tradition so we’ll do them anyway. Now, I have no need to romanticize life in the shtetl (just as I have no need to romanticize life as a modern-day Orthodox woman) but I do want the truth as I have experienced it to be told.

In my grandparents’ families, there was a deep education and connection with the meaning of the observances, such that my grandparents still recall and repeat today. In fact, I feel that the movie disrespects their experience. Of course I am sure that there were some families who just observed out of habit or social pressure, but an entire village? Even the rabbi is a little clueless, which brings me to…

2. The rabbi is a fool.

Here are his most brilliant, sparkling lines, full of wisdom, depth and guidance (not). This is still a problem today. I see some “shtetl-era” books being issued for Jewish kids today. Most of the time the rabbi is totally unkempt and stupid. Again, some rabbis are unkempt and I’m sure that some rabbis don’t have particularly good advice, but for this to be the “shtetl-era” rabbi image emblazoned in the minds of your typical American Jew? What happened to respect for our scholars and leaders, for our role models, and those more learned? What kind of message is that for our kids?

My grandparents describe the utter reverence for their holy rabbis; the deep respect accorded them by the parents of the household; how the members of the shtetl would vie for the privilege of caring for their needs, hosting them in their homes, attending their lectures. Where is any of that? The question about waiting for the Messiah is a good one; why is no response given?

3. Yentl the matchmaker is a caricature but her impressions remains.

To this day when I tell people about how many in the Orthodox world meet and date they immediately think of Yentl. Yentl of the ugly wife and the blind husband: a match made in heaven. Granted, “dating” in the shtetl is not identical to Orthodox dating today, even when a “matchmaker” is employed, but I believe this image has damaged the reputation of the matchmaker, casting him/her in the role of “arranger of marriages” rather than how it really is today, which is “arranger of blind dates.”

I’m sure there’s more, but these are the top three that come to mind. And lest you all think I’m just a Jewish humor grinch be it known that I love to laugh and think lots of things are funny. But sometimes, I’ve learned, I think different things are funny or enjoyable than other Jews, because of my Orthodox orientation. The “Jewish” things I find funny are more like inside Orthodox jokes, whereas I find “typical” Jew jokes corny.

And as far as Fiddler, I will end where I started: it’s a masterpiece and a classic. And a bit sad, because for many viewers, this, and only this, remains the vision of our rich shtetl era.

Empty stainless steel bowl on granite countertop.

Uncategorized December 17, 2012

Newtown

Jewish Response to Tragedy. No.

When Bad Things Happen to Good People. No, no. You said you wouldn’t do that topic except in person.

So…maybe the best thing is to be silent after a tragedy of this magnitude? But how can you remain silent and just go and blog about something else, as though it never happened?

Judaism certainly has many ideas to share about pain and suffering. Yes, but is this the time to share them?

No.

Judaism teaches that one does not comfort the mourner while he is still burying his dead. So what to do?

Be there. Be present. Show you care. Don’t ignore it, but don’t offer words of consolation.

Okay.

Prescription bottle labeled "Pills and Skills".

Uncategorized December 14, 2012

A Mensch

When they asked me, “What are you looking for?” I said, “A mensch.”

A mensch first and foremost.

Someone who takes his Judaism seriously, but also knows how to have a good time.
Someone who comes from a great family.
Tall wouldn’t hurt.
But really? Someone who is kind. Patient. Pays attention to others.

On a date, we passed a toll booth.
You said to the toll collector, with a big smile, “Hi there!! How are
you doing today??” Your enthusiasm was so genuine and kind. As we
rolled away from the window, you said, “Enjoy the rest of your day!”
And I thought, I’m going to marry that guy. (Not the toll
collector.)

And now, nearly 20 years later, a lot has changed. Glasses styles.
Hair color. Important things, too. But something hasn’t changed.
You’re still that ultimate mensch – the one that likes to bring joy to
others. The one that won’t say no if someone asks for a favor. The one
that no one can say no to, if you ask a favor, because you are just so,
so, so nice.

I couldn’t have asked for a better role model in being a mensch.

Happy birthday, Sruly.

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

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.

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?