Berry Schwartz is out to have Jews unleashed and unstoppable in life and with what’s important to them so that they can create the life they love and the Judaism they seek. He writes at www.transformative-judaism.com and can be reached at berryschwartz[at] gmail.com“
2. Why is my Seder different from all the other Seder?
3. Why is my kid different from all the other kids?
4. Why is my life different from all the other lives?
Greetings, OOTOB readers!
Hope you’ve all been well. Today’s post will be a conglomeration of stuff I’ve been into.
1. CLEANING FOR PASSOVER IN ONE DAY, GONE VIRAL
Firstly, my post from a couple years ago on cleaning for Passover in one day appears to have gone viral this year. That makes me both happy and sad. Happy, that more people can understand that Passover is about joy and that God would never give us an unmanageable task, and sad that so many people are freaking out about Passover. 8,000 hits this week alone tells me that people are kinda into this topic. Ya think? It’s gotten so that when I go grocery shopping, people stop me to say, “I hear you have this thing with cleaning for Pesach in one day…?” Yeah, I’m that girl. So check it out and pass it along.
2. PATRONIZE OUR SPONSOR FOR KOSHER VITAMINS
You may have noticed that ad up there, in green, for kosher vitamins. This company is supporting OOTOB, so please patronize our sponsors and if someone asks you about kosher vitamins, send them the link. Thanks!
3. STAYING CONNECTED TO JUDAISM BETWEEN HOLIDAYS
This recent Kveller post by my online (soon to be IRL) blogging buddy Nina Badzin – I’m headed to Minneapolis on Sunday to address Aish on Women in Judaism – is a really important post. It’s short and deceptively simple, but don’t be fooled. None of these things are commonly blurted out in a word-association game about Judaism, but all of them are in the Good Book right with shofar, matza, and l’chaim. Read it and tell me what you think. Judaism is meant to lived and expressed every day – and primarily in the home. Check it out.
4. BOOK UPDATE
My book, a women’s prayerbook, is done and off to my editor! The publishing company Mosaica Press is handling it, and I’m feeling a huge sense of relief now that it’s out of my hands – at least this phase of it. It doesn’t have a name yet, so please weigh in on my two options, as developed by my trusty crowdsourcing marketing team on Facebook:
1. Calling God: a women’s prayerbook of conversation and connection
2. Prism of Prayer: a women’s prayerbook of conversation and reflection
Basically, don’t worry about the subtitle so much, but envision yourself at Barnes and Noble or recommending it to a friend. Which title has more punch, interest, and memorability?
It’s due out this fall, so keep your eyes and ears open for that.
5. HAIRCOVERING UPDATE
A couple of months ago I blogged about my evolving views on haircovering; specifically, methods of which to do so.
Each year I put together a shutterfly album of our family’s pictures from that year, and I noticed in my absorption in that project that I really, really, like the way I look in the pictures with scarves. It encouraged me to wear more of them, as opposed to wigs, which I hate wearing.
Anyhoo, that’s what’s been going on around here. Happy preparations for Passover, for my Jewish readers 🙂
Mazel tov! My half-birthday was last week, on February 26th. This means I now own forty, by virtue of being more than halfway through it. Here’s forty… so far.
Forty is
letting go
of old stuff
(if you haven’t needed it yet, you probably won’t).
So forty is
release.
Forty is
learning to accept and love yourself
as is
whether you radically change or not
because this is the you God gave you
and it is the you you need to be.
So forty is
acceptance of self.
Forty is
forgiving others for the things they did
when they were sad
scared
hungry
impulsive
and just being themselves
(just like you accept yourself).
So forty is
forgiveness.
Forty is
a new chapter for family
with teens
and tweens
and young ‘uns
to hug you and remind you that you do, in fact, know everything.
A this-is-your-forever-family awareness
so forty is
loving and identifying unconditionally with my family.
Forty is
finally, arriving at that station called “gratitude”
where, because you’ve actually lived a bit of life
understand – though sometimes need reminding –
that your life, while interesting, is full of
goodness
love
smiles
kisses
and hugs
from Above
and that if you blink you’ll forget.
So forty is
gratitude.
Forty is
understanding once and for all
that you are not your body
but your soul
and that your body will probably continue to decline
but it’s okay,
because
you never were your body in the first place
so forty is
I am my soul
Forty is
remembering that old friends will always be there for you
and that old memories are so fun
such a gift
that old friends will never judge you
and that making time for them is not optional
but a soul-need
and maybe you have a little more time for them now
so forty is
old friendships.
Forty is
starting to realize how grown-ups make terrible mistakes
and that if you’re not careful you can make them too
so you’d better work on that
ego
temper
impatience
self-importance
before you become one of them.
So forty is
mussar.
Forty is
looking my husband in the eye
and understanding that he is my soul-partner for life
no matter what
and that forever really does mean forever
and understanding that together
we can handle anything God throws our way
so forty, then,
is a renewal of all those words we said when we were twentysomethings
but only now understand their import.
And forty is
realizing that is takes a village
of family, friends, faith
and mostly God
loving me forever
holding my hand for keeps
as I walk through this journey
that is at once all mine and that of my circle of support
including all of them
and knowing
only I can live forty
to the highest heights.
Forty.
If I had to make up a typical Jewish American couple, I’d call them Bryan and Michelle. Or Julie. Or Lauren/Lori or some such form thereof. But if I had to think of your typical Orthodox couple, I’d call them Miriam and Moishy. Or Yaakov and Chanie.
From Mary to Lisa to Michelle and Jennifer, girls’ names in America have gone through their trends. What about Orthodox girls?
When I was a kid going to the Hebrew Academy of Cleveland in the 80’s, there were 20 girls in my class. Three of them were named Estie – which is also my sister’s name. I have two sisters-in-law named Rivky. Chanies are everywhere.
As far as boys’ names, we seem to have tapped into the trends. Our son Moshe had a half-dozen boys with some form of the same name, and our son Avromi had about the same number with some form of his name (Avi included).
In the Modern Orthodox community, names are much more creative, such as Shai, Adir, and Tzahalah. But in the more black-hat world, the same old names are often chosen after grandparents and such. Yiddish names do seem to be going out of vogue, so grandparents’ names such as Baila, Faiga, and Zissel are becoming less common aside from the Chassidic and yeshivish (black-hat Haredi) communities. Parents might name their children these Yiddish names to honor loved ones, but, if they feel uncomfortable with them, will add another, more palatable name (sometimes the Hebrew form) and use that as the child’s main name. Some Yiddish names are considered even more old-fashioned and unpleasant than others (not listing them here for obvious reasons, haha) and if a grandparent carried that name, the parents might use a similar name or name with a similar meaning so as not to saddle their child – or themselves – with a social stigma.
Some kids love having common names, and others love having cool and interesting names. Either way, it seems to me that Orthodox trends in names change and move slower than in America in general. Then you also have Orthodox names that are cool in America (Ilana) but nerdy in Israel. Who knew? There are no studies that I know of, but I’d love to get some informal data here.
After crowdsourcing on Facebook I got some really interesting responses. Here’s one:
I was named after my mothers grandmother whose name was Hinda Necha. However, my mom couldn’t stomach the Yiddish version and we were living in Israel so I got Ayelet. Years later, I was in kindergarten in America and I hated my Israeli name. I asked my mom why she wouldn’t name me something “normal” like Gitty or Hindi! Growing up it was Esti and Leah and Chaya and Chani. Now it’s Ahuva and Aliza and Ariella and Yael and Meira and Tehila and Adina and Avigail and Leora. Some names that were nerdy in my day are cool now like Shayna and Kayla. Boys names tend to be pretty traditional still with lots of Dovid and Yosef and Aharon and Aryeh and Yaakov. But there’s also your Yonatan and Netanel and Ariel and Azriel.
What were the most common Orthodox names you knew of growing up? Which decade? What about now?
My friend Rachael Rovner posted the following on Facebook last week about her daughter, Chana:
Chana is asking some pretty amazing questions lately. She is very torn about what religion is right. She asked me why I believe Judaism is right. I told her that my understanding is that all main religions stem from Judaism. She reminded me that “Avraham was the first Jew. He came from a family of idol worshippers. So the first religion was really idol worshippers.”
I was stumped. So I told her I was proud of her for asking such great questions and I hope even if she doesn’t find great answers, that she keeps asking such thoughtful questions.
Any ideas from my more learned friends???
I asked Rachael if it would be OK to use Chana’s question here and she agreed. So here’s my response to Chana.
Dear Chana,
The first thing I want to say to to you, echoing your mom’s response, is kol hakovod (which means “high five” in Hebrew, kind of) for asking the question. Judaism is a religion in which we are encouraged to ask questions – and if you find that you, your child, or anyone else is dissuaded from, or made to feel dumb for, asking questions about Judaism, please know that the person who dissuaded or discouraged is doing the wrong thing and stunting growth. Whether questions come from curiosity, lack of education, rebellion, or any other reason, they should be taken and dealt with with honesty and trust in the process. (Rebellion is a process too.) Chana, the most important thing I can actually say about your question is KEEP ASKING QUESTIONS. And if you don’t like the answers you get, ASK MORE PEOPLE YOUR QUESTION. Judaism has fabulous answers and its tradition is rich with incredibly deep and interesting conversations regarding every question I’ve ever been asked.
The next thing I want to say about your question is this. People on your mom’s Facebook feed have offered some really good answers to your actual question, and I like a lot of them, so I’m not going to take on the question itself per se. What I do want to do is explain about the varying answers you may receive in your life to any question you may ask.
Chana, there will be a lot of times in your life, especially if you are a thinker, when you will look around at your world and wonder why you live the religious life you live. You may (correctly) conclude that idol-worship seemed a viable option at one point, and perhaps atheism appears like a viable option today. In fact, you may notice, as you grow up, especially if you are a thinker, that there are a lot of really smart people who don’t believe in God at all, or who believe that other religions are better or smarter than Judaism. The fact that you were born a Jew may or may not be compelling intellectual evidence – after all, people convert to religions that are not their families’ religions.
So what’s a girl to do? Religion or none? Judaism or something else? How to know? How to make sense of it all?
The first thing I’d suggest to any person of any faith, asking your questions, is to deeply investigate the faith in which you are born. What about it makes sense to you? What about it is difficult to understand? Ask the elders and the wise people of your faith to help you understand the parts that are difficult. Are there ways to practice and stay true to your inborn faith that are maybe slightly different from what you know but still valid? Are there ways to understand the parts of Judaism that are different from social norms that you can live with? There are many Jews who find meaning and spirituality in other faiths who have not sought their own faiths deeply enough (I hope, when you’re old enough, you’ll read A Jew in the Lotus to understand this phenomenon more clearly). In fact, when a non-Jew approaches a Jew and asks to convert, the Jew is supposed to dissuade him or her, and instead encourage him or her to find monotheism and morality outside of being Jewish.
The other thing I want to say is about those who believe and those who don’t believe (whether that choice takes the form of idol-worship or atheism). Chana, you will always find compelling evidence on both sides of the equation. Don’t make the elementary mistake of thinking that idol-worshippers were stupid imbeciles. No, the Talmud indicates that they were bright, spiritual beings who simply succumbed to a grave mistake. Don’t either make the elementary mistake of thinking that people who don’t believe in God are stupid or simply uninformed. Quite possibly, they are bright, intelligent, thoughtful human beings trying to make sense of their world just as you are. I believe that God put evidence down in His world on both sides of the faith debate such that it would be possible for humans to choose to see Him – or not. That it would be possible to choose meaningfulness and purpose, or randomness and chance. He gave us the option to choose, and recommended a choice. But God hides in this world. You will always find smart believers and smart non-believers. Smart people who accept Jesus and smart people who don’t.
My point is that while you are a child, I hope you will get answers that simply affirm why Judaism is the “right” religion and explain away the idol-worship issue. But as you grow you may wonder why it seems more nuanced than that. And maybe you will come to see that faith is not a simple answer to a simple question.
Faith is a choice. It’s a choice between two options which will each seem viable sometimes. Faith is a choice that has to be worked on, fed, nourished, loved. Faith is a journey that will have peaks and valleys. Faith is a child that must grow up. Faith is a loving parent that will hold you in its embrace, even when you’re angry at it.
So keep asking questions, Chana – so faith has a chance to build its relationship with you as you grow. I’m sure you’ll do great on the journey. I can already tell that you will.
And please consider me as a resource, if you’d like.
Ruchi
Miriam Yudelson Katz was one of my first and is one of my most loyal readers. Plus, she lived in Cleveland AND we’ve met In Real Life. That makes her a VIP around these parts. So when she asked me to review her mother’s new memoir, I made up my mind to put it at the top of my priority list.
I didn’t need to worry. From the moment I started reading it, I couldn’t put it down.
Firstly, “knowing” the protagonists’s daughter and some of her life’s story, it was a sad and suspenseful journey to read about the backstory that led up the pivotal events of her life.
For me, it was also a precious insight into worlds I knew nothing about – the Reform community of the South in the 60s. The Yudelson’s journey toward greater observance and deeper religious connection was fascinating to me. The way that journey was framed by the Passover seders was a haunting and beautiful literary technique as well as a powerful Jewish message – that the linkage of our faith from one generation to the next is what it’s all about.
The stories of my native Cleveland and of the non-Orthodox Jewish communal life, a community that I was not a part of until my adulthood, was equally interesting for me at my juncture in life. There were many other treats, like the ladder analogy of personal growth, one that I use regularly in my teaching.
But it was the account of the wrenchingly raw grief that the author chronicles that honestly kept me riveted. I’ve experienced different types of grief and loss in my life, and the account of how the traditional Jewish shiva plays its part in the necessary psychological stages of this process was so real and so powerful.
This is an unvarnished account of one woman’s journey in her Judaism. It describes without apology the successes and failures of various communities to meet the needs of a Jewish family seeking community and fulfillment. Every educator should read this book to see what he or she can learn, but more importantly, every human should read it to deepen his or her understanding of the most basic human needs: for love, for life, for solace, for meaning. You’ll thank me.