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why Orthodox Jews do what they do Archives - Page 10 of 17 - Out of the Ortho Box
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why Orthodox Jews do what they do

Uncategorized January 5, 2012

The Brother

Once upon a time there lived a nice Jewish family named the Millers.  They lived in a nice suburb with a nice home and respectable jobs, and raised their children with values.  They had three sons: Ben, Josh, and Zack.


The Millers were a very well-known and respected family.  Everyone knew “you could trust a Miller.”  The boys were always proud to be introduced as Millers.


Ben, Josh and Zack grew up and went their respective ways.  Their 20’s found Ben volunteering in Rwanda, Josh in NYC in a prestigious accounting firm, and Zack finishing up college.


One day Ben gets a text from his dad.  “Trouble with Josh.  Call soon.”


As soon as he can, Ben calls home, only to discover that Josh has been implicated in a financial scandal and will probably be going to jail.  His emotions range from anger, to denial, to embarrassment, to rage, to sympathy for his parents.  In Rwanda, he is questioned by his peers about the news they are hearing about Josh.


“Is it true??  A Miller?  What’s the deal, dude?”  Some seem to be gloating over the fall of the “prestigious” Miller legacy with its “sterling reputation.”  Others just want the dirt, to satisfy their curiosity.  All are sanctimonious, that “it would never happen to one of mine.”


So Ben texts Zack.

Ben: what is going ON???  Is this true??

Zack: yeah… true.

Ben: how did this happen

Zack: don’t know, can’t reach Josh

Ben: deadly embarrasing

Zack: miller name and all

Ben: are u getting a million questions

Zack: um… YEAH!!

Ben: what are you telling ppl

Zack: that he’s not my brother

Ben: WHAT

Zack: anyone who could ruin our family is not a brother

Ben: dude… you can’t divorce your brother

Zack: is he acting like a brother?? did he think of us when he threw our family name to the gutter

Ben: I hear ya but he’s still your bro

Zack: i didn’t choose this brother

Ben: did you ever notice you can only divorce those that you chose

Zack: what are YOU telling ppl

Ben: that yeah, he’s my brother

Zack: and…?

Ben: and he made a big mistake

Zack: and…

Ben: i still love him… a brother’s a brother

Zack: do you really still love him

Ben: believe it or not… yah

Zack: how

Ben: do you even know what love is

Zack: duh

Ben: love is when you identify someone by their good stuff

Zack: youre a poet

Ben: cmon… we all have good stuff and bad stuff

Zack: hmmm

Ben: ppl who hate you identify you by the bad… see the good as secondary.  Ppl who love you identify you by the good… see the bad as secondary

Zack: like mom and dad

Ben: like all moms and dads… you think Saddam Hussein’s mom hated him? she identified him by his good

Zack: um now what might that be

Ben: ask her!!

Zack: dude.  don’t u think it would be better for our fam to deny he’s a part of this fam???

Ben: not the point.  a bro is a bro.  we stick together… always.  got it??

Zack: ur not thinking of the whole fam

Ben: actually, i feel like i’m the ONLY one who is

Zack: i’ll think abt it

Ben: thx…gnite

Zack: gnite

Uncategorized January 3, 2012

Checkpoints for Your Speech

Every Friday night at Shabbat dinner, my family does something hard – and very cool.

We checkpoint our speech.

See, I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog that Jewish tradition has a lot to say about what we say – and what we shouldn’t say.  Some of the things we shouldn’t say are words of gossip, anger, false flattery, and sarcasm – even if the words are true.  Interesting how in American law “libel” or “slander” are prosecutable only if false. But in Judaism, they are condemned even if true.  Perhaps, especially if true – due to the damage caused to the subject.

So we’re supposed to watch our speech all the time (gulp).  But sometimes, when we want to curry extra favor with God, we do something extra special, and choose a finite period of time – say an hour or two each day or week – to be extra vigilant, in the merit of a loved one that needs healing or wishes to find that special someone or perhaps become a parent.  Or in the memory of a loved one that has passed.  It’s called a “machsom l’fi” [pronounced MACH (as in Bach, the composer) some (rhymes with “foam”) l’FEE] which literally translates to “checkpoint for the mouth.”

A year ago, two lovely young women were diagnosed with cancer – one is a little 2-year-old daughter of a good friend, and the other is a 41-year-old friend suffering from a recurrence.  We decided to do a machsom l’fi each Friday night at Shabbat dinner, for one hour.  I promoted it on Facebook and many of my friends decided to do so as well, each in our own homes.  I know some are still doing it – we sure are.

If conversation wanders into questionable waters, one of us will inevitably remind the others that we are “in the middle of a machsom!”  Or we’ll check our watches to see when we can share the juicy tidbit to make sure we are keeping the hour correctly.

After kiddush, I introduce the hour with a short Hebrew formula.  The translation is:

I hereby accept upon myself, without actually taking a vow, to be careful of words of gossip, slander, anger, and false flattery, whether by speaking, hearing, believing, or writing, from now and for one hour, in the merit that the following may experience a complete healing [here I insert their names in Hebrew and their mothers’ Hebrew names] among all the other sick members of Israel, amen.

It is so encouraging that though I am quite helpless in the face of illness, this is something I can do in the spiritual sphere – and at the same time elevate this special time with my family by raising our conversation and our awareness of respect for others to a higher level.

Have you ever joined a machsom l’fi?

Uncategorized December 29, 2011

Religious Extremism and Me

I was supposed to be on break till 2012, but I’ve pulled myself out of retirement to deal with something that’s been, quite literally, keeping me up at night and distracting me from everything I’ve been trying to concentrate on today.

Religious extremism in Bet Shemesh.

Normally, I don’t discuss bad stuff that goes on among Jews, both for lashon hara (gossip) concerns and because it’s just not my way.  I’m an “a little bit of light dispels much of the darkness” kind of girl, and I try to go about my life attempting to shine bits of light upon my world, the world of my children, that of my friends and loved ones, my community in real life, and on this blog.  And hopefully, in the larger universe as well.

But when the Bet Shemesh insanity hit international news, I knew that I had to address this issue for a positive, constructive purpose.

Allow me to go on record saying that as a Torah-observant Jew, one that some might call ultra-Orthodox (dubbed chareidi, or haredi), I am disgusted, horrified, sickened, traumatized and embarrassed by the behaviors of the thugs in Israel who are not only acting completely contrary to Torah values, but disgracing its name publicly.

My little boy is four years old.  In preschool, he has a sweet little program called “Social Skills.”  He brought home a little pictorial overview of what he learned in Social Skills.

“Two rules, Mommy.”  Eyes huge.  “Nice face and nice voice.”

How wise we are, at four.

In discussing the issue with my 11-year-old son, he was aghast that anyone could actually believe such actions are Torah-true.  “Ma,” he declared, “they’re doing the opposite of you.  You’re trying to help people see that Torah is beautiful, and they’re making everyone hate it.”

True, that.

—-

A Facebook friend-of-a-friend made the following pithy observation:

But
here is the catch – let’s not worship the same god as they [the thugs] are. Don’t get
angry with them, have pity and compassion on them. And hope and pray
that these people who are also our brothers and sisters are able to come
back to sanity and balance and Truth before they do any more damage to
themselves or others or before The Universe has to knock them back in to
line by force.

Want to practically make a difference? All our
people have one soul. Go work on your own ego issues for one week.
Watch where you hurt others in your life with actions or words from this
unhealthy place. Change yourself, take responsibility for yourself
especially for blaming it on the ubiquitous “them,” as if we are clean
of these very challenges ourselves. And I have no doubt that in the
merit of this and this only, we can turn these people and all of the
Jews and all of the world back to good and G-d, speedily in our days.
Amen.

An ultra-Orthodox rabbi, Rabbi Yaakov Horowitz of Monsey, NY put out a public statement denouncing these awful behaviors, as did the Chassidic Belzer Rebbe and the Agudath Israel of America.  This is all good.

A family friend living in Israel emailed the following:

Twelve years ago when we lived here, I learned [studied Torah] with Reb Noach
Weinberg [of Aish Hatorah] in his office. He took me out on his mirpeset [balcony] where, looking
down at the Kotel Plaza, we saw two groups of protestors.  A Conservative
group demanding women’s rights at the Kotel.  The other, a Chasidishe [Chassidic] group
yelling and fighting.  Reb Noach, z”l [of blessed memory], turned to me and asked: What’s your take on
this?
I was giving a pilpul [Talmudic-style dialectic] on the pros and cons of each group’s actions. He
interrupted by saying… “Do you know what I DON’T see? I DON’T see a tear! Not a sigh.
Just fighting for the rights of zealotry.”

 —-

Around the corner from me lives a family that looks, on the outside, very similar to the thugs.  Fur hats, curly peyos (sidelocks), Chassidic garb.  This family takes my breath away with its love for all Jews.  All Jews, of all stripes, backgrounds, and degrees of socio-economic success, are literally welcomed into their home with a huge smile and a hug.

Yeah, a bear hug.

This past week I was driving carpool and my neighbor’s son had missed the bus.  I took him home, only to find that no one was in at his house.  He assured me that he was supposed to go to this Chassidic family down the block if his parents weren’t home, to be “babysitted.”

Upon corroborating this interesting tidbit, I dropped him off at the love-for-all-Jews abode and watched carefully as he entered the home as one would his own: without knocking and without preamble.  To say that this family puts my unconditional love for my fellow Jew, and my hospitality, to shame, is an embarrassing understatement.  This is a family of role models.  This is the ultra-Orthodoxy I am honored and proud to be associated with.  It would be seriously incorrect to say that “their home is open to everyone” – it simply belongs to everyone.

Can I say the same about myself?

—-

Where does all this leave me?  Insomniatic, distracted, disturbed.  I’ve written my letters to the New York Times and Israeli press.  I’ve sent a Facebook message to the mother of one of the victims, expressing my solidarity and disgust.  I’ve wondered about the perps: who are they really?  Who are their mothers, wives, sisters, and children?  Do they sleep well at night?  I’ve worked through my emotions, trying not to hate the haters.  I’ve searched my heart to examine if any traces of the personality defects of the thugs, such as ego and anger, need to be worked on in myself.

I am encouraged by those who recognize not to torch all Chareidim (ultra-Orthodox) by the fire of these thugs.  Their moderate responses are incredibly heartwarming.  I am warmed by my community here in Cleveland, where so many different types live near one another with respect.  I pray that this post be a step towards the solution.

And in my prayers this morning, I had extra passion during the prayer for peace.

Oseh shalom b’mromav, hu yaaseh shalom aleinu, v’al kol Yisrael, v’imru… Amen.
May He who creates peace in the heavenly spheres, create peace upon us, and upon all of Israel… may it, indeed, be so.

Uncategorized December 26, 2011

What’s Up With Orthodox Jews and Slurpees?

I don’t know where you live, but here in Cleveland, there is a Speedway 5 minutes from my home, right in the heart of the Orthodox community.  It’s open 24 hours, and you will always see Orthodox Jews coming in and out, buying Slurpees.

Why??

Well. You need to understand a few somethings.

  • When you keep kosher, there are very few fun foods you can buy for a buck.
  • There are also very few stores you can buy fun food at that are open 24 hours.
  • The fact that Slurpees are kosher is very exciting – us kosher folks are ALWAYS scouting for “what’s kosher?” at Costco, Target, or the local grocery.
  • When you have kids (as most Orthodox Jews do, for a lot of child-rearing years), a Slurpee is a great easy incentive that all kids love. 
  • When you’re a teacher of Torah or a parent of a Torah-observant home, you are always seeking to motivate your kids to learn Torah/do mitzvot; hence easy, cheap incentives are always being sought.

Note: the frightfully blue tooth color actually does fade with time.

Uncategorized December 16, 2011

The Beauty of Basherte

“You’re not going to make it tonight?  OH! 
We’ll miss you.  Okay, don’t
worry.  Everything is basherte.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to miss your wedding!  My son just woke up with strep and there’s no
way I can leave town!  What should I do –
everything is basherte.”
“What??  The freezer just
died, full of food!  Well.  Everything is basherte.”
Basherte:
pre-destined; meant to
be.  Usually used in reference to a
soul-mate, as in marriage, but also used to reference the Hand of Providence,
whether for the good or bad, that shapes every event in our lives.  Some Jews prefer to call it karma…
Here’s the beauty of basherte.  When it’s your reality, it simply has the
power to take the wind of disappointment, regret, blame and anger right out of
your sails.  When it’s the reality of
others in your life, it takes those emotions right out of their sails.
Caution:
1.      
It takes practice.
2.      
You can’t be a control freak or a micro-manager
and expect this to be easy.
3.      
You can’t make a dumb mistake and blame the
results on God.
People usually use the term “basherte” to describe a
wonderful, serendipitous event, where the Hand of God stirred the pot and
everything tasted wonderful upon completion. 
That’s beautiful too.  
But the real power of basherte is when you apply it to the
negative things that occur to you.
I am anticipating the question of why bad things happen to good
people.  While that is a valid question, I
deal with it mainly in person only.  I intend
here to address the instances referenced above: the inevitable and mundane
disappointments of daily lives.
Have you ever experienced, in hindsight, the beauty of basherte?  Seeing the Providence in what seemed like a
disappointment or negative occurrence?
Uncategorized December 11, 2011

Non Encounter at a Bris

The Scene:  Bris of Greenstein Family.  Orthodox synagogue.

In attendance: the Greenstein’s Orthodox friends, non-Orthodox friends and relatives of both persuasions.

The service is about to begin.  Friends and relatives file in to the main lobby.

Enter stage left – Karla Greenstein, a first cousin of Melinda (the baby’s mom).  Karla is a 37-year-old mom and reading intervention specialist.  She is excited to be at the simcha, but insecure in her choice of outfit and quite intimidated about entering an Orthodox synagogue (for the first time).

Enter stage right – Chava Leah Kohn, 31 years old, mom, reading intervention specialist, and friend of Melinda’s. Orthodox born and bred, Chava Leah has had limited interactions with non-Orthodox Jews and is nervous about what to say if someone will ask her a question about Orthodoxy that she can’t answer.

Karla sees Chava Leah across the room.

Karla’s stream of consciousness:

omg i’m wearing the wrong thing i knew i would be wearing the wrong thing.  i wore a dress, but no one said it had to be BLACK and SO LONG obviously the leggings aren’t quite the new skirt just yet oy why is she looking at me like that where do i stand?  are men and women supposed to be separate or something oh no look those orthodox are all mingling and socializing ok i guess its ok.  phew.  should i ask that woman where to go she’s obviously in the know oh no i would look too stupid what if i say something to offend her oh this is very stressful i gotta find somewhere to put this gift where’s the table for gifts oh there’s melinda lemme go say hi

Chava Leah sees Karla across the room. 


Chava Leah’s stream of consciousness:

oh that woman looks a little lost and confused i should really go over to her and ask her if she needs help no that would look stupid who am i to be like the hall monitor no can’t do that but don’t want to leave her hanging either so nice how she’s wearing a dress to be respectful wow i should really go introduce myself and be a mensch no i’m much too shy what will i say what if she asks me something and i don’t know how to answer i’ll feel like such a fool she’s so cute her outfit’s really cute i wonder if i look so out of style in my clothes does she think i’m like totally out of date come on just go over and say hi what’s the big deal no i can’t it’s too weird oh she’s leaving oh there’s melinda

Chava Leah approaches Melinda just as Karla leaves.

They exchange brief smiles.

Karla exits stage right.

Chava Leah exits stage left.



Curtains.

Uncategorized December 8, 2011

Fishplating

Once upon a time, there was a shul Kiddush.  And at this shul Kiddush were both Orthodox
Jews and non-Orthodox Jews.  Included on
the Kiddush buffet were gefilte fish, cholent, salads, crackers and dips.  Yes, it was a very wonderful Kiddush.
Some of the Jews at the Kiddush had learned of the custom not to eat fish and meat together
Others had not.  The wise Rabbi
had not taught it, since it was a custom, and many people at the shul were
driving to shul on Shabbos and eating cheeseburgers and other more obvious
non-Orthodox habits of the sort. 
Therefore, he was very selective about which points of Jewish law he
chose to share, so as not to overburden or embarrass his constituents.
One of these Jews, unschooled in the meaning of kosher
altogether, took his fishy plate and proceeded to load up on delicious,
steaming cholent.  Another Jew, aware of
the issue, but not quite as sensitive as the Rabbi, and with truly sincere and
good intentions, maybe, honed in on said Jew and proceeded to inform him that
he must use a new plate for the cholent, as the original plate was fishy and
therefore violated the fish/meat combo custom.
The wise Rabbi, observing the debacle from afar, shook his
head in dismay.
And thus was the term “fishplating” born.