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Uncategorized November 24, 2011

I Pray

Lots of people associate Judaism with synagogues, and synagogues with prayer.  But some of the most important praying that I do has nothing to do with a synagogue.

See, Jewish prayer breaks down into three categories:

  1. Formal praying done at synagogue, with a minyan*, in Hebrew
  2. Formal praying done elsewhere, without a minyan, in Hebrew
  3. Spontaneous, organic praying, in English or any language

*A minyan is a when 10 adult Jewish men join together for prayer or other religious services.  10 is the tipping point where they are considered a community.  

Formal praying is done with a siddur (prayerbook) in Hebrew, at the following designated times.

Shacharit – the morning service.  Done from sunrise till midday.  Midday is determined by taking the daylight hours and finding the midpoint, so it changes somewhat each day.  Takes about 45 minutes.
Mincha – the afternoon service.  Done from midday till sunset.  Takes about 10 minutes.
Maariv – the evening service.  Done from nightfall till just before sunrise.  Takes about 10 minutes.

There is a certain advantage to praying with a minyan, and certain advantages to praying in a synagogue, even where there is no minyan.  Spiritually speaking, the very walls absorb the holiness of the services that have taken place there.  There’s also an advantage to praying in Hebrew – the words are kabbalistically arranged, for the biggest punch (so to speak).  And even if you don’t make it to synagogue very often, there is a decided advantage to using the words in the siddur, that were selected by prophets, scholars, and mystics, to unlock to gates of prayer in ways that we don’t even understand.

But my focus here is going to be on spontaneous, organic prayer.  For me, the formal praying feels very important, as it’s my anchor in a crazy day to stop and access ancient wisdom; to tie myself to the spirituality of yesteryear and add my link to the chain in a millenia-long conversation with God.  And the organic prayer – that’s my handwritten love note to God that I made up all by myself.

Here’s what it might sound like:

(Note: when talking to God organically, I use the Hebrew word “Hashem” to refer to God.  It means, literally, “the name” and is a way of referencing God respectfully without actually invoking a holy name – which is used in formal prayer only.)

(As carpool drives off) Hashem, please let my kids have a good day at school today.  Please let them learn well and have positive interactions and associations with their friends.

(As I drive to a class) Hashem, please let this go well.  Please give me eloquence and wisdom, and allow me to always remember that all successes in life are thanks to you.  Thank you for allowing me to be involved in learning and teaching.

(As I look for a parking spot) Hashem, please let me find a spot!  Thank you!!

(As I hang up the phone with a friend who is struggling with something) Hashem, please help my friend to find her way.  It’s so hard for her.  Please bless her with clarity and strength.

(As I notice that the cop behind me is actually following someone else) Thank you Hashem!  I really, really appreciate that!

I find that it is these conversations, sprinkled throughout my day, that deeply forge my relationship to God – in a way that when something truly significant happens… we’re in touch.  And sometimes, days go by where I forget to talk to God that way.

And then, I remember again, and it’s a reunion.

Is prayer foreign to you?  Do you relate more to formal or spontaneous prayer?

Uncategorized November 22, 2011

Shiva Calls

One of the biggest chasms I’ve encountered between the Orthodox and non-Orthodox communities is the way the shiva customs are observed.  So I’m here to demystify Orthodox shiva, cuz it’s a whole ‘nother animal.  Some of the below might be familiar to you, and some may not; I’m approaching the subject as though I am addressing someone who is not familiar with any the customs.

1. Shiva is observed beginning after the funeral for 7 full days, excluding Shabbat and holidays (since on those days there is a mitzvah to be happy).

2. Mirrors are covered to symbolize that it’s not a time to focus on the physical.

3. Shiva is to honor the memory of the deceased, and to comfort the loved ones of the deceased.  Tradition teaches that the soul is present during the shiva and is aware of all that transpires.

4. The mourners (blood relatives+spouse) sit on low chairs and do not wear shoes made of leather.  They continue to wear their clothes that have been torn in grief (there’s a custom to tear clothes in grief upon learning of the death of a loved one – again, blood relatives+spouse). 

5. The food at the shiva is meant for the mourners, and those that are staying with them.  It is not intended for visitors; this is to prevent the atmosphere from becoming too festive.

6. The visitors are to enter without knocking and without greeting or being greeted.  They are not to initiate conversation until addressed by the mourners, so they can gauge the mood of the mourners and read their cues as to where their wishes are and what they would like to discuss.  The mourners are not to “host” – greet, introduce, make sure everyone has somewhere to sit.

7. The best length of time to stay is 10-15 minutes, unless you sense the mourners want you to stay longer, or unless you are very close.

8. Finally, the ideal conversation is about the deceased – specifically, inspiring stories about his/her life; memories; what we can learn from their legacy.

What are your shiva experiences?

Uncategorized November 21, 2011

What I’m Thinking When The Orthodox Make Headlines

A very thoughtful reader, alias “Should Be Working,” a self-described Reform Jew, posted the following incredibly respectful thought on my blog last week about The Danger of Being Orthodox.

“I want to take a risk here and ask a question in ‘outsider mode’, since I’m an outsider to Orthodox Judaism. This blog is one of the very few experiences I’ve had of feeling (not just seeing) the ‘inside’ of your Orthodox lives (in all the variations I’ve learned about here, thanks for all that insight into the differences), and also seen that warmth and caring and humility.

So my risky question is what it feels like from the ‘inside’ of Orthodoxy when you read about Orthodox Jews doing things that do not reflect love and joy with respect to those not in their communities–for instance in Jerusalem Orthodox Jews have spit on Christian clergy. Joy and love for one’s ‘own’ is a beautiful and admirable thing, but when you read ‘bad news’ or at least unflattering news, does it make you wish that other Orthodox people would behave more civilly and respectfully to ‘outsiders’? Does it make you feel like those people are wrong and the exception, or that they are just misunderstood, or that they have failed in responsibilities to what someone (Larry?) recently here described (don’t have the Hebrew term in my head) as representing the Jewish people in a positive light?

Such news reports, to be honest, do alienate me from Orthodox Judaism, but I want to hear from this thoughtful, positive-minded group what you think about such acts. I am, again, asking this with respect, and especially for Ruchi in creating this blog–because I can’t think of any other venue where I could actually ask Orthodox Jews how they view such incidents. (I suppose I could show up at Chabad or something and ask there, but the openness I’ve seen on this blog makes asking the question here easier.) “

A few of my other readers gave some good responses, and I’d like to add a fuller treatment of the question: it’s an important one.  Before I answer the actual question, though, I need to put forth a few general concepts.

DON’T JUDGE JUDAISM BY THE JEWS: OH, YES YOU SHOULD

The first thing that most Orthodox Jews will tell you  is, “Don’t judge Judaism by the Jews.”  This is a cute line, and a nice way to sidestep our co-denominationalists’ disgusting behavior, but it’s just not satisfactory.  Can you say “don’t judge New York by New Yorkers”?  Don’t judge Islam by Muslims?  Don’t judge yoga by yogis?  If, indeed, the system is an appropriate one, and a functional one, shouldn’t you, indeed, be able to judge Judaism by Jews??  That’s just not good enough, while true.  To some degree, you can’t judge ALL of New York by SOME New Yorkers… but to completely sidestep that degree of accountability simply doesn’t sit right with me.  (I credit Rabbi Avraham Edelstein of Moreshet with clarity here.)

Therefore, we have to be able to judge Orthodoxy by MOST of the Orthodox. 

ISRAEL IS A PLANET ALL ITS OWN

Item number two on the list: have you noticed that the vast majority of ugly news (Orthodox and non-Orthodox alike) comes out of Israel?  Why is this so?  Why is life there so fraught, so tense, so violent, so very, very on the edge of normal, polite behavior??  I just came back, and I lived there for five years, and oh, I love it so, but to be honest… it’s one of the reasons I simply could not live there.  Is it that Jews in Israel have to fight so hard, sweat so much, sacrifice so often, that simple manners become a luxury?  Is it that separation of church and state is a laughable Alice-in-Wonderland dreamworld there?  Is it that people live in such close proximity that “live-and-let-live” is for wimps?  Is it that Jerusalem has always been a place full of tension, a test of peace?  I don’t know, but it’s sad, and bad.  I don’t want to speak lashon hara (gossip) about the Land, my Land, the only Land I capitalize in respect and love, but man… it’s a tough place.

LASHON HARA

On the subject of lashon hara (gossip), it is important to distinguish between news, gossip, and opinion.  News is information that the public needs to know for a constructive purpose.  Gossip is information that the public does NOT need to know for a constructive purpose, but rather it’s to entertain or denigrate.  Opinion that is respectfully worded and deals with ideas is great.  Opinion that is personal and vindictive is lashon hara.  Not everything that is thought ought to be spoken; not everything that is spoken ought to be written; and not everything that is written ought to be published (Rabbi Y. Salanter).  I leave it to you, reader, to sort your reading material into its various categories.

THE TORAH IS PERFECT; PEOPLE ARE NOT

This is my updated version of “don’t judge Judaism by the Jews.”  Instead of having Judaism and Jews live in silos, I view the Torah as the ultimately perfect ideal.  Everything in the Torah is beautiful and perfect.  No, that doesn’t always mean it all jives with the secular values of 2011, but it oughtn’t, because those will change.  Torah is immutable.  And I know some of you, my dear readers, interpret this in different ways, and I’m glad to discuss that one day.  But here’s my point:

To the extent that a person lives according to the Torah’s instructions, will his actions be beautiful, admirable, and noteworthy.

This, of course, transcends denomination.  It’s directly proportional.  This means if a person doesn’t even know he is Jewish, but is not a gossiper, that person is living in accordance with Torah teaching in this area of his life, and this area of his life will be beautiful and special.  If a person gives tzedaka (charity) – his actions in this area are beautiful.  If a person observes Shabbat, accepts suffering with serenity and faith, smiles at a stranger on the street, bends down to retrieve someone else’s trash, prays for clarity instead of getting angry… these are all ways to behave in accordance with the Torah.

Which means that when a person behaves in way that is ugly, illegal, rude, embarrassing, or hurtful, he is NOT acting according to the Torah in that area of his life.  He may be acting according to the Torah in OTHER areas of his life (Shabbat, kosher), so those parts of his life are beautiful, but the icky stuff is in trangression of Torah.

As well, the obvious Orthodoxy in the garb and external observance just complicates the issue, because now the bad behavior is not just in direct contradiction to Torah, but makes it seem as though “Orthodoxy” sanctions the bad behavior.  Double ick!

In short, when Orthodox people behave badly, that bad behavior is CONTRARY to Torah.  He’s acting that way despite his “Orthodoxy.”  If many Orthodox Jews (however you quantify that) act that way, you have a bad trend that must be addressed from the leadership.  On that note I will tell you that every lecture I attend and nearly every article I read in the “very Orthodox” circles are focused on how Orthodox people should and can improve themselves.  Introspection and upgrading our behavior, ESPECIALLY in the areas of interpersonal relationships (yes, with outsiders too) are at the top of the list.  In fact, the most Orthodox rabbi in the world (my designation), Rabbi AL Shteinman, may he live and be well, has said this publicly many, many times: always seek to upgrade your behaviors with other people.

WHAT’S IN MY MIND WHEN BAD NEWS HITS?

Therefore, with all this information, here’s the chronology of my thoughts when bad news about the Ortho-Jews hits.

1. Denial
It’s not true.  It didn’t really happen.  That’s insane.  How could anyone seriously act that way??  OK, maybe it happened, but probably no one read it except for me.  How could anyone find this stuff??  The web is so big; maybe it got buried.

2. Anger
Anonymous (or not) Orthodox person, how could you do this to me???  To God?? Do you know how hard I try to be a good ambassador for Judaism?  Do you know how large is the gap that exists between fellow Jews??  Why are you making it worse, harder?  Don’t you  THINK before you ACT??  Journalist: why?  Why are you writing this?  Is this to denigrate, to sensationalize?  Are you happy you got people to smirk about how the supposedly-holier-than-thou Jews are finally revealed for what they really are: a bunch of no-goodniks?  ARRRR!

3. Bargaining
Let’s say this disgusting behavior really did happen.  It’s a crazy fringe group.  No one really takes them seriously.  You can’t possibly find any Rabbi who would sanction this.  None of this is in the Torah.  Torah is perfect.  There are so many Orthodox folks doing good; don’t they outweigh a few crazies?  Sure, their customs might be unfamiliar, their dress a bit different, their culture slightly divergent… so what?  I just have to work harder, blog faster, try harder to teach my kids that God wants us to behave with love, respect, and joy to all human beings… oy. 

4. Depression
I can’t.  Can’t read this stuff anymore.  Maybe I need to crawl under a rock and not read the news and DEFINITELY not read any blogs and unfollow a whole slew of people on Twitter.  I pretend I have such a thick skin, but I guess I’m kind of sensitive after all… It’s so upsetting, to try so hard, to know so well what Torah living is about, to shout from the rooftops how beautiful it can be… just to be thwarted by a bunch of bizarre crazies who make headlines and journalists who are gloating over the mound of charred hopes.  I go through my day like an automaton… have no zip…

5. Acceptance
“The work is not yours to finish; neither are you free to completely shirk it” (Ethics of the Fathers 2:21).  There will always be those, have always been those, that are a chillul hashem (disgrace to God’s Name with their bad behavior).  There is no way I’m going to change that.  What I can do, must do, is be a kiddush Hashem (elevation of God’s name with good behavior).  I can only do what is humanly possible.  I need to know enough to be productive, and that’s it.  I need to introspect and make sure no trace of bad behavior infects me.  I need to keep doing what I’m doing, reaching, teaching, learning, growing, parenting responsibly.  I need to to take things both more and less personally. 

“A little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness” (Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi).

Yes, readers.  These are, not coincidentally, the five stages of grief.  This is how I feel when I hear that an Orthodox person has publicly and badly failed in being a good Jew.  I grieve the Torah that was transgressed, I mourn the kiddush Hashem that was lost to us, and I wistfully miss the feeling that us Jews can indeed, be one family.  It’s hard to grieve so much.  But I care that much.  I love us that hard.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

Uncategorized November 18, 2011

The Danger of Being Orthodox

Note: the follow-up post on this subject is “What I’m Thinking When The Orthodox Make Headlines,” based on a query from one of my readers in the comments here.

When you’re identifiably Orthodox, you wear your religion on your sleeve.  Literally.  Either you’ve got a yarmulke or a long skirt but everything you do is a walking advertisement for or against your faith, and especially, your brand of your faith.

When you’re not part of a particular community, race, or culture, all “those people” appear alike to you.  You don’t know how to differentiate.  And Orthodoxy is no different.  So when “bad news about the Jews” hits the world, and in today’s tech society, it’s instant and viral, all Ortho-folk look bad.  Of course people are attracted to bad news like bees to honey.  Ever see a newspaper full of good news sell?

Controversial articles attract comments; car wrecks attract rubber-neckers; family drama attracts more family drama.  That’s how we are.

This week I attended two “very Orthodox” weddings.  As I looked around the room at the dancing, men and women each on their own side of the mechitza, black hats and all, I thought to myself:  I know almost everyone in this room.  They are good people, mostly.  Pretty much just trying to do their thing, raise good families, uphold basic values, make a decent living, and be faithful Jews.  Many are truly excellent people.  Exceptionally kind, humble, giving, forgiving, and busy dedicating their lives to helping others both organizationally and personally.  The emotions of joy, love and spirituality ran high in the room.

But then my brain switched to “outsider mode” (it does that often, with apparently no control on my part).  I wondered, if an outsider would walk in here, would they think us bizarre?  Odd?  Phobic?  Hateful?  Rude?

It’s painful.  And I’m not sure what to do about it.

What do you think?

Uncategorized November 16, 2011

Dinner, Again: How I Keep My Family Fed

Sometimes I get asked: “Do you cook dinner EVERY night?”  Well.  That’s a rather personal question.  The question is predicated on the fact that I have a lot of peeps to feed, that I keep strictly kosher, and that I work. So here’s the answer, for posterity.

NO.

Here’s my system.  Please bear in mind that:

  • As confessed previously, I am not a foodie (that’s code for “I don’t like to cook”)
  • I am not a health nut, though I try to upgrade my food wherever possible, like using brown rice and Barilla plus pasta
  • I only cook things that are very, very, very easy.  
  • I also serve some kind of salad/veggie at every meal so I’m not listing that, plus the occasional soup when I’m feeling domestic.

Sunday is mac ‘n cheese.  We usually have some leftovers from Shabbat, but most of us don’t want to even look at them, including myself so I can’t even get annoyed.  We usually run around on Sunday either doing stuff with the kids, catching up on home jobs, and/or chauffeuring the kids to various activities, so it’s gotta be quick and easy.

Monday is always dairy night or pareve (neither meat nor dairy).  Since we keep kosher, the menu plan always breaks down to either meat-based or dairy-based.  I usually serve fish on Monday too, so like salmon and quiche; lasagna; tuna casserole; sushi salad (basically unrolled sushi).

Tuesday is chicken night.  Baked chicken; drumsticks in the crock pot; Asian stirfry.  Sides would be couscous, rice, quinoa, or potatoes.  I have a rice cooker.  It rocks.

Wednesday is meat night.  Usually ground beef cuz it’s cheap and everyone likes it.  I usually mix it with ground turkey (1/2 and 1/2) for health purposes, to the chagrin of my unhealthy children.  Some choices would be spaghetti and meatballs; unstuffed cabbage (the lazy girl’s way to pretend you know how to cook Hungarian); beef stirfry.  I don’t buy roasts or anything fancy, aside from a special Shabbat or holidays.

Thursday is pizza night.  Usually we order it; rarely we go out; occasionally I make it myself.  Thursday night I am already prepping for Shabbat so I go the easy route.

Friday night is… Shabbat!  I pull out all the stops.  Well, for me 🙂  I still only make things that are very, very easy, but I have lots of yummy food.  Shabbat gets its own blog post, so stay tuned.

Saturday night we are all full from all the Shabbat delicacies.  I usually retire without eating any major dinner; my kids might fix themselves grilled cheese or something, and my hubby always enjoys leftovers!

And of course there’s always the occasional night when everything is crazy.  Then either my kids fix dinner, or it’s laissez-faire dinner… which my mother never, ever did… no guilt there or anything…

Uncategorized November 16, 2011

Do You Crave Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups?

I have lots of friends that are baalei teshuvah.  This means they did not grow up Orthodox, but accepted a mitzvah-observant lifestyle in their teen or adult years.

I find it interesting to hear what they miss.  There are plenty of things they don’t miss – although this varies greatly from one person to the next.  Some don’t even want to think about their previous lives, while others look back with nostalgia.

One of my friends has a thing for cheeseburgers.  She seriously misses McDonald’s, Burger King – you name it.  While in Israel, the thrill of the chase for a kosher “cheese”burger is a treasured time.  Others miss the social opportunities, the clothing they no longer wear (and are possibly still hanging in the closet), or the ability to eat anywhere.

I’m not a baalas teshuvah.  I grew up observant.  But there are some things I did take on voluntarily in my adult life.  One of them is cholov yisrael.  Literally, it means “Jewish milk.”  Here’s the background: truly, all milk that comes from a kosher animal (cow, goat) is by definition kosher.  But back in the day, there was a temptation by some dairy farms to dilute their kosher milk with non-kosher milk (pig’s, for example) to save a buck.  Therefore, a rabbinic ordinance was instituted to only drink milk that was milked under Jewish supervision, to make sure no hanky-panky took place.  This milk was called “cholov yisrael.”

When Jews began arriving en masse to the USA, the facts changed.  The USDA regulated milking, and it was a crime to dilute the milk with other forms.  Therefore, it was as though the government was supervising the milking, and all USDA milk was considered kosher and usable.  However, some chose the extra stringency of cholov yisrael anyway, to maintain the custom.  The larger the Jewish commnity, the easier it is to obtain cholov yisrael dairy products.

My husband and I both grew up using plain old dairy products.  When we got engaged and planned to move to Israel, we decided to accept upon ourselves the extra restriction of cholov yisrael.  (In Israel, all the dairy is cholov yisrael… but then we moved to Buffalo Grove, Illinois.)  Practically speaking, what this meant for me was NO MORE REESE’S PEANUT BUTTER CUPS.  Now, this is a big deal.

When I go to the store and see them, I miss them.  In the airport, they talk to me.  At the BP store on a road trip, my mouth waters for them.  But I have never, ever craved a cheeseburger.

Interesting, no?

What’s your experience?

Uncategorized November 15, 2011

5 Excellent Reasons To Wear A Yarmulke/Kippah/Jew Hat

So that kippah thing that guys wear?  It has a coupla names.

  • “Kippah” is Hebrew.  It means “covering.”  Easy enough.  
  • “Yarmulke” is Yiddish, derived from the two Aramaic words “yarei d’malka” which means “reverence for the King” – like, you wear it to demonstrate that there’s someone above you.  Like as in Someone, like as in God.  This explains why guys are supposed to wear one – they are less likely to get that there is a God above.  More likely to believe that they are God’s gift to humanity – or God himself.
  • Epithets such as “beanie,” “Jew-hat” etc.  Fill in your own.  When you or your kid walk around in public with the thing on, you get some interesting comments!

So some people wear them full-time, and some wear them part-time, and some wear them for religious experiences only.  Here are 5 excellent reasons to don the thing.

  1. To cover your bald spot.  Interestingly, some men’s yarmulkes (I shall defer to this name as it’s the one I’m most used to) grow as their hair shrinks.  Draw your own conclusions.
  2. As an act of solidarity with men who have bald spots.  YOUR hair may be thick and the object of envy, but you don the yarmulke to show support to those friends of yours who have not much hair.  Who really has a bald spot?  Only your hairdresser knows for sure.
  3. Nervous habit.  Much more pleasant than biting your nails or clearing your throat, adjusting your yarmulke is the perfect nervous habit.  Whether you’re twisting it on your head (??), moving it higher, lower, or somewhere else entirely, just make sure you don’t give away what’s under it (see #2).  This works particularly well at uncomfortable meetings and while public speaking.
  4. Religious affiliation.  Your yarmulke declares where on the Ortho-spectrum you fall.  Black velvet?  Yeshivish.  White knit?  Modern-Orthodox/Religous Zionist.  Browns football motif?  Hmmm.  Not sure.  In any case, it’s a quick and easy way to avoid a theological conversation surrounding where your sympathies lie. Conversely, you can use this to keep ’em guessing.  One day wear one variety, and next another.  Show your open-mindedness. 
  5. Family ties.  Trying to get into Uncle Louie’s good graces?  Wear the green one from his kid Joey’s bar mitzvah.  Planning on asking great grandma for a loan for your new business venture?  Wear the pink one from her wedding.  Tip: pretend you didn’t realize you were wearing it.
What do you say readers?  Why do you, or don’t you, wear a yarmulke?