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controversial observations Archives - Page 6 of 14 - Out of the Ortho Box
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Uncategorized April 15, 2013

The Bnei Mitzvah Blues

Everyone’s talking about bnei mitzvah.  Rabbinical students want to ban them.  Kids are taking to youtube for cooler and more expensive invitations than you’ve ever dreamed of.  Non-Jews want to inspire their kids by giving them some ceremony which seem to benefit no one but the party planners, photographers, and DJs.

And this might sound kind of funny coming from someone who helps people plan their kids’ rites of passage, but I think most Jews on this planet, or I should say, in North America, make far too big of a deal about this without even knowing what the ceremony is or isn’t supposed to celebrate.

On this thread, where a friend of mine gave some tips as far as what to give as gifts, I responded such:

You wrote: “a celebration of achievement. It is a spiritual rite of
passage that connects one generation to another.” I would demur. I
think it’s a celebration of arrival through an entryway. An entryway to
life as a responsible Jew. The “achievement” hasn’t actually happened
yet, and a child becomes bar or bat mitzvah when they have their
(Hebrew) birthday on the thirteenth (for girls twelfth) birthday of
their lives – this is an upgrade in spiritual status, that, according to
the Jewish sources, takes place whether they are reading from the
Torah, vacationing in St. Martin, asleep, or converted out. It happens
to you. How you celebrate it is entirely optional and has varied
greatly by community and history.

I recognize that this is radically different from how most Jews think about bnei mitzvah, but it’s what the sources say.

What do most American kids think?  That you have to go to Hebrew school for (fill in the blank) years, to learn Hebrew, so that you can read from the Torah, so that you can have a party like your friends and get lots of gifts.

Wrong, wrong, and wrong.  My dear American Jewish children:

1. You don’t have to go to Hebrew school.
2. You don’t have to learn Hebrew.
3. You most certainly do not have to read from the Torah.
4. You do not deserve a party for that dubious accomplishment or any other for that matter.

So what do you have to do?

1. Learn about Judaism from whichever source will inspire you most to live it, love it, breathe it, and understand it.
2. Learn how to talk to God in your own words.
3. Acknowledge in some way that the day you turn 12 or 13 is special because you are now autonomously responsible to live Jewishly.
4. Thank your parents for giving you all of the above.

Shall I tell you why I feel so strongly about this?

1. Going to Hebrew school to learn Hebrew reading, a skill that many kids will never use again soon enough to matter, often makes them hate Judaism.
2. Kids are so entitled and spoiled as it is, that we don’t need to feed the frenzy by offering them a mini-wedding (which actually deifies them far more than a wedding) for “performing” in Hebrew.
3. And of course, the problem everyone, including me, is struggling with: how to keep kids engaged once the carrot is consumed off the stick (you can’t use your gifts?  won’t get your album?  unless you keep studying Judaism?).

What’s the solution?  Haha, if I could put that in a paragraph I’d be a wealthy woman.  Of course there are no easy solutions.  The way most North American congregations have evolved, they are often bnei mitzvah factories.  Where else are dues coming from?  But I am not here to solve the problem of congregational survival.  I am here to solve the problem of bored, spoiled, disconnected kids.  And parents, this is in YOUR HANDS.

Take back control.  Stop feeding the cycle.  Say “no” to crazy parties, to multiple thousands of dollars going, yes, down the drain, to ridiculous senses of entitlement among our kids who still think they deserve who-knows-what.  If you really want your child to be “affiliated” as a Jew, find good role models in Judaism for your kids, and make sure they hang out with your kids as often and as enjoyably as possible.  Don’t be afraid to talk about God as though He actually exists.  Bring Judaism into your home as a living, breathing religion.

Mostly, find ways to engage in Jewish study yourself and demonstrate to your kids that Jewish learning never stops.  “If you truly wish your children to study Torah, study it yourself
in their presence. They will follow your example. Otherwise, they
will not themselves study Torah but will simply instruct their
children to do so” (Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotzk).

And then we’ll be up to the grandkids’ bnei mitzvah.  I wonder what those will look like.

Uncategorized March 6, 2013

Does it Come From Her Religion?

Last week, my teenage son found himself in Rockland County, NY, with a flight from La Guardia in a few hours and no ride.

To be fair, he had a perfectly legitimate ride that decided to leave early and unexpectedly, leaving him stranded.  He was staying at my brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s home, and he called me to brainstorm about how to get to the airport.  Well, I’m a fan of independence in kids, so I told my son that he could take a bus to Port Authority and from there take another bus to the airport.  We realized that time was tight and I agreed that he should instead take a cab from Port Authority to the airport.  My son wasn’t thrilled about these plans, but he agreed nevertheless.

Ten minutes later I get a phone call from my brother-in-law.

“Ruchi, Sara is going to drive him to the airport.”

“What??”  I said.  “That’s crazy.  It’s an hour without traffic!  And all the kids are home!  And there’s no need for it!  Really, he’s fine!”  (Why does anyone bother with how long a NY drive will take without traffic?  How is that information even relevant?)

“Oh, no, she says it’s perfect, because since the kids are off and they have nothing to do, this will be a great activity!  A project!  A trip!”

This, then is my sister-in-law.  When she does you a favor (a huge one), she makes you feel as if you are doing her a favor by acquiescing.  She’s truly something.

Now I ask you a question.  My sister-in-law is a really, really good person.  But I believe that her religiosity, her belief in chessed (kindness), that God put an opportunity in her path for good, that she will never lose out by doing a good deed, makes it much easier and more satisfying to act altruistically.

What do you think?

Uncategorized January 29, 2013

Be Careful What You Name Your Kid

Most Jewish parents choose Jewish names for their kids.  But they don’t always realize that one fine day, their kids may choose to really use those names.

According to Jewish thought, your Jewish name describes your essence.  When you want to name your child after a relative, you should really use the Hebrew name as closely as possible to the original.  Identical is best.  Starting with the same letter, in either Hebrew or English, is a distant second.  It’s powerful for the memory and honor, but spiritually, the connectedness is in the actual name or the same meaning.

Rabbi Akiva Tatz, originally of South Africa, who did not grow up using his Hebrew name, and who did not grow up Orthodox, for that matter, describes how his parents chose the name “Kevin” for him.  First, he says, they chose Akiva – after the person for whom he was named.  Then they went about searching for a secular name that he could use to navigate in the “real world” that was as similar as possible to the actual (Hebrew) name.  In other words, “Akiva” was the “real him” and Kevin was a distant nickname that replicated the real deal.

Many Jewish parents go about this the opposite way – first they choose an English name that they like or that’s after a loved one, then choose a Hebrew name based on other factors.  But many young parents tell me they wished they had known, when they were naming their kids, how very powerful that Hebrew name is to the essence and the soul of their children.  Many Jewish parents don’t remember their kids’ Hebrew names, if they’ve fallen into disuse.

Sometimes kids will start using their Hebrew names, whether at Sunday school, in Israel, or if they become more religiously-minded.  So you might want to choose carefully.

So here I am, to tell you!  And now you know.

How was your name chosen?  How did you choose your kids’ names?


Related posts:  Your Kid’s Hebrew Name is Yechezkel Simcha Chaim?
High on Hebrew

Uncategorized January 17, 2013

What Jews Find Funny

Last spring, this cartoon was floating around Facebook:


Lots of people thought it was hilariously funny.  I was aghast.  I thought it was invented by Orthodox Jews to make Reform or Conservative Jews look like lightweights.  But then I saw lots of non-Orthodox Jews posting it too, and finding it hilariously funny.  Then I was insulted, like maybe it’s supposed to show that Orthodox Jews overcharge for the same services in the name of religion (think kosher industry?).  Either way, it made me cringe.

Then, come Chanukah, this one was making its rounds:

What do you think?  Funny or no?  I have two opposite reactions:

1. Hey, that’s kind of cute!  (Wouldn’t mind a miracle like that, myself.)
2. That is SO corny and out of touch with what Chanukah is.  The spelling of “Hanukkah” kinda underscored #2 for me.

Then, the kicker, this one appeared:

 

I found this so annoying.  So corny.  So hackneyed.  SO eye-rollable.  I know humor is not always explicable, but what is funny about this?  To be clear, I do NOT find it offensive.  It’s pretty hard to offend me (OK, bad language and insulting comments are offensive) about Judaism.  It’s just that I don’t see the humor.  It’s the kind of thing I’d laugh at only to make someone feel good.

And btw…I NEVER find bris jokes funny.  

In fact, I’m discovering that I’m pretty hard to please when it comes to “Jewish humor.”  I find most of it in poor taste, sacrilegious, corny, or just plain old unfunny.

What kind of Jewish humor do I appreciate?  Clever plays on words with Hebrew and English, especially textual.  Intra-communal jokes about Jews from various ethnicities (German Jews – “yekkies,” Chasidim, Litvaks – Lithuanian Jews) that even the playing field.  Making fun of ourselves is always awesome.

I even searched the web to find a Jewish cartoon I found funny but I couldn’t.  The closest I came was this:

The Shabbos Belt

It’s pretty cute.

So… am I a culturally Jewish humor scrooge?  What do you find funny?  And if it’s off-color, fuggeddabouddit.

Uncategorized December 23, 2012

Tomayto, Tomahto – Shabbat, Shabbos

It has long bothered me that among fellow Jews, even our common language has built-in divisions:

Shabbos, Shabbat
Tallis, tallit
Sukkos, Sukkot
Bat mitzvah, bas mitzvah

I wish we could just ascribe a “tomayto, tomahto” attitude here, but it seems there are some deep attachments to one’s familiar ways of hearing and saying Hebrew – and some consciously overt preferences as well.

These divisions are generally characterized as “Sephardic and Ashkenazic,” but it’s not that simple.  For one, the modern state of Israel, populated in large numbers by Jews of Ashkenazic descent, employ the “Sephardic” pronunciations, using the “t” sound wherever the Hebrew letter “tav” appears, as opposed to pronouncing some of them (grammar-dependent) as an “s.”  Also, the Reform movement, and possibly the Conservative movement, or at least parts of it, employ the Sephardic pronunciation as well, even where its leaders or adherents are of Ashkenazic descent.  I am unsure why this is.  Perhaps to identify with the state of Israel?

According to Rabbi Joe Blair:

As a way of integrating and welcoming the refugees from the Muslim
lands, the State of Israel decided to institute the practice of teaching
Sephardi pronunciation as the official Hebrew spoken in Israel. Most
Hebrew speakers today use this pronunciation. There is a still-sizeable
number of Ashkenazi Jews who have chosen to remain with that
pronunciation; in particular, the Orthodox (and as some would call them,
the ultra-Orthodox) have chosen to hold to the Ashkenazi pronunciation.

This is interesting, because there were Ashkenazic refugees as well.  I think that somehow along the way the Ashkenazic pronunciation became associated with the “old-style” Jew, the “shtetl” Jew – and perhaps this was not the image the state of Israel wished to retain.

When my family lived in Israel for five years, we spoke modern Hebrew, the “Sephardic” way – and I got so used to this that when we returned to the states and put our kids in schools where the “s” sound was used instead, it sounded so odd to my ears.  Yet, in Israel, I often felt on the defensive if I inadvertently slipped into the “s” version – like I was outing myself as a hopelessly outdated Jew.

Now I use whatever word I think my fellow conversant is most used to.  Here on the blog I flip back and forth.  When I see someone approaching, I wish them “Good Shabbos” if I think they might be more used to that, or “Shabbat Shalom” if I think that’s their thing.  Of course, my split-second assessments are often wrong.  Sometimes the approacher corrects me and greets me with the “right” version.  If I’m greeted, I simply return the greeting as it’s offered to me.

So to you, readers, I ask:

Are the different pronunciations such a big deal?  What do they mean to you?

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.

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