More learning

Last week, I wrote a long post about my current approach to Jewish life.  I write ‘current’ advisedly – as someone travelling along the winding path towards becoming a Jew, I find twists, turns, dead ends, signs for falling rocks and switchbacks almost every day, and sometimes all on the one day (that’s when my brain starts to shut down and I fall asleep on the sofa).

roadsigns

Where I am now isn’t necessarily where I anticipated I would be a year ago.  This isn’t a bad thing at all – I have learned so many things, especially more recently that I feel as if a few extra grey cells have been used more effectively than before, and that can’t be a bad thing.

Jew Wishes emlightened us all with an ABC Book Meme from the many, many books on her shelves – a library would be proud to browse through her collection, I am sure!  I of course have now expanded my ‘to buy’ list even more…

Daniel began writing about a course he attended on biblical archaeology at the London School of Jewish Studies.  Reading things like this makes me want to stop earning and restart (full-time) learning again….

Jewish Graveyard Rabbit brought to our attention a project to renovate Jewish cemeteries in Poland.  I hope it is successful – nobody’s ancestors deserve to be forgotten.

Ilana-Davita’s weekly wrap up pointed us in the direction of a very important issue surrounding women’s health on Conversations in Klal.

And I learned that there are some very strong people out there, who really give me pause for thought.  Sending you Refuah Shlema, Rivka with a capital A.

I personally was pointed in the direction of the Masorti community and also the website for the Jewish Orthodox Feminst Alliance, who both have very interesting websites, with a lot of food for thought for my inquisitive mind.

I was also recommended some books to increase my knowledge surrounding my conversion path and also the laws of kashrus.  It is my intention to run a kosher kitchen as much as is possible in the future, so I am really looking forward to reading How to Keep Kosher by Lise Stern.

Finally, not anything to do with being Jewish in any way, but I have joined the WalkerTracker craze – a bit late for Treppenwitz’s competition I think, but I am sure he will organise another one, if only to see if he can refine his approach to achieving more steps than his good lady wife, Zahava (you go, girl!). I’m interested to see that it takes over 10,000 steps for me to walk to shul and back each Shabbat but I’m not sure what my working week walk will add up to! Maybe the contraption below will help….

walking-bike-max-knight-1

[This image from Max Knight].

Shabbat Shalom

As simple as that.

Women – know your place!

(The title of this blog will only truly mean something to any British-based people visiting.  It references an advert for a men’s magazine that basically told women not to expect anything from their menfolk on Thursdays, when the magazine came out.  It was a funny advert, for a trashy magazine called ‘Nuts’, if you’re interested. I think the name tells you all you need to know!).

Anyway, I happened across a publication on the website for the Board of Deputies of British Jews earlier, called ‘Connection, Continuity & Community – British Jewish Women Speak Out’.  I haven’t finished reading it properly yet, but from what I have seen so far, it is quite interesting.  It covers many areas such as the role of women, the future of the Jewish community, intra-community networking, Jewish education, Hebrew and so on.  There are a lot of articulate women out there.

If you would like to read it, click here.

Evolution

No, not the Charles Darwin kind, although I do have his ‘On the Origin of the Species’ on my bookshelves(and for those of you who are book addicts, I defy you not to admire the books that The Folio Society offers, just dig around a bit more in that link and prepare to drool). 

I am talking about evolving halacha.  I found a post on Three Jews, Four Opinions this morning which caught my eye… why not have a read yourself?  Here’s the link to the full explanation, which relates to this week’s Torah portion Pinchas for the first part of the story.

Enjoy.  I think you’ll know my views on the subject!

17th of Tammuz

Wishing everyone an easy fast today, if you are fasting. 

Apart from the reasons for the fast (according to the Mishnah (Taanit 4:6) five calamities befell the Jewish people on this day)

  1. Moses broke the two tablets of stone on Mount Sinai;
  2. The daily tamid offering ceased to be brought;
  3. The walls of Jerusalem were breached (proceeding to the destruction of the Temple);
  4. Prior to Bar Kokhba’s revolt, Roman military leader Apostomus burned a Torah scroll;
  5. An idol was erected in the Temple.

This day resonates for me as it marks the beginning of the period of the 3 weeks leading up to Tishah B’Av, which was the first non-Shabbat serivce I attended at shul.  I remember so clearly turning up at the door, ringing the bell to be let in and being ushered into the hall next to our sanctuary.  We sat in a circle and followed a service specially written by our rabbi.  At that time I knew an extremely limited amount of Hebrew, very few of the people attending and felt like a fish out of water.  Needless to say, the solemnity of the occasion wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t really feel that it was anything to do with me – I felt like an imposter to be honest, intruding on a very private occasion.  This wasn’t down to anything anyone said or didn’t say, it was more due to my internalisnig and analysing my status as a new person to the congregation.  I do that a lot. 

Thankfully, I don’t feel like that any more.  So yes, this is certainly a solemn time, but a tiny part of me marks this point in the calendar as a slightly different kind of anniversary.

Agreeing to disagree – the fallout

I don’t mean fallout as in having a falling out, more the concept of ‘the aftermath’ – in case you were wondering.

Anyway, aside from my post about Jerry Springer, my thoughts on where I have placed my figurative hat in the Jewish world has been the most busy for views so far – and comments too.  It seems that posting my opinions on what can be controversial issues is a worthwhile thing to do, at least for the health and continuance of my blog, in any case.

Thank you to all of you who read my piece, and also to those of you who commented.  I do love a little mental tussle with you who read my ramblings – it makes my brain work harder and I do tend to learn something new each time.  This time, I learned many new things not evident from the comments. I do encourage you to get in touch by email (rachelshavuatov@yahoo.co.uk) if you want an ‘offline’ discussion – I will always reply, unless you are sending me abuse, in which case you just get sent to the trash folder and ignored.

And just to clear things up, in case there is any concern – I respect everybody’s choice about the Jewish path they follow.  What’s right for me may not be right for you, and the reverse is also true.  Who knows where my heart will be in 1 year,  5 years, 10 years and so on?  In the meantime, let’s rub along together and enjoy our individual journeys, learning from each other as we go.  Having said that, I’m not promising to never argue with you – I’m learning the trick of feisty Jewish woman quite well, thank you very much! :)

Agreeing to disagree

Hmmm.  The other day, I got ‘called’ for my approach to Judaism.  Why bother converting Liberal, when you can convert Orthodox and be accepted around the world as a proper Jew?  Why put your children through difficulties in the future when they find they won’t be accepted in a school because they and their mother are not halachically Jewish? Why? Why? Why?

Unsurprisingly, this put me on the defensive.  First of all, the assumption about my family life (a woman without children isn’t natural).  Well, there are many, many reasons to not have children.  Why they don’t make an appearance in my family unit isn’t for public knowledge, unless I choose it to be so.  And following from that, the assumption that I would automatically choose  to put any children of mine in a Jewish school.  There’s nothing wrong with Jewish schools, but there is a whole other world out there and many other good schools to choose from.  Anyway, that bit is really irrelevant, since there are no little Rachels to have to make the decision about.

The issue of ‘why bother’ has really made me pause for thought.  I do sort of see the point.  There are aspects of Liberal Judaism that are not necessarily how I do my Judaism.  But then, surely that’s healthy?  Just blindly following and agreeing with everything my chosen movement does – that wouldn’t really say too much about me as an alive, questioning individual, would it?  If I am going to go through the effort of conversion though (and contrary to some thoughts, converting Liberal isn’t ‘easy’), why not do it in a manner that will be accepted universally? (Here I would just like to say that from what I have read recently, this universal acceptance of an Orthodox conversion isn’t necessarily true, anyway).

Well, perhaps it is time I stood up for my approach to becoming a Jew.  Why not?  I will get asked, yet again, when I stand in front of the Rabbinic Board, what I am doing there and they will be trying to ascertain my sincerity.  Fair enough.  Perhaps I should preface what I am about to write with this – I am not saying my way is the right way, it is just right for me, and right for me, right now.  Anyone else is free to choose their path, Jewish or otherwise – and I utterly and sincerely respect the choice that has been made. 

Liberal Judaism (LJ) allows me to convert whilst not insisting that my BH do the same, although LJ does insist on meeting my BH to make sure that there is going to be a supportive home environment that will allow and encourage me to develop as a Jew.  At the same time though, the onus is on me to push that development forwards, to follow Shabbat rituals, to say blessings, prayers, have mezuzot, candles, a chanukiyah, Torah, Talmud etc so that anyone walking into my home will know that it is a Jewish home.  My BH is welcome to attend shul, classes etc, or not.  There is no pressure, but at the same time, the door is always figuratively open.

If I were to consider Orthodoxy, there would be a significant problem.  I could no longer live with my BH, who has been with me through good and bad times, for a very long time.  Our relationship is up there on equal footing with being Jewish.  Take either away from me, and my heart is torn in two.  Both sustain me in different, yet complementary ways.  Alternatively, my BH would be forced into a position of conversion – how can that be right?  And this is not even touching the issue of who my BH is.  Safe to say, we would never be accepted together, as a couple, in any kind of Orthodox environment. 

LJ is inclusive of all people.  Those who keep kosher, those who don’t.  Families, single people.  Gay, straight, transgender.  Those who have two Jewish parents, those who have only one (irrespective of maternal versus paternal lineage).  Those who attend all services, those who attend maybe only one a year, or none.  Men who wear kippot and tallitot, men who don’t.  Women who do (or don’t do) the same.  Women who lay tefillin, women who don’t even know what they are.  Converts of all kind and those who attend, but never convert. I think it is safe to say that we are a very diverse group of people, all tied together by our Judaism, in whatever manner we practice it.  Oh yes, and we have female rabbis who complement the men nicely, in my opinion. 

Orthodoxy – well I know (because I ask questions and read a lot) that there is room for manouevre within its auspices.  It is not totally rigid and dogmatic.  There are things about it that attract me, I would be lying if I didn’t state that this is the case.  For example, I like the approach to tznius, although I fail to see how I could do my sport of choice (which I am passionate about!) even half way effectively in a below the knee length skirt! I also think my personal hygiene would leave a lot to be desired in the recent hot temperatures we have been experiencing if I opted for long sleeved tops!  On a different note, the commitment to prayers and blessings throughout the day also speaks to me spiritually. Taking time to speak to G-d directly, reconnecting with my faith in the secular world of work is a welcome pause that I have really come to treasure.  In a strange way, living in a community where everyone lives in the same broad way also attracts me.  There would be no explaining necessary, would there?  Less juggling of two parts of my life would certainly be an easier prospect.

However, reality is out there.  Deny it all we might, but 21st century life is not built to cope with akward faiths that like to shut up shop on a Friday afternoon/evening for a whole day.  I work.  I have a home to run with my BH.  Changing my routine was very hard at the beginning, but now it works, but there still have to be compromises. 

No matter how much I could wander off into an idealised world regarding the attractive side of Orthodoxy, I know that in my heart of hearts, it would be too restrictive a life for me.  I have read many articles and heard many things explaining how the role of women on Orthodoxy isn’t repressive, and that there are valid reasons why women don’t do certain things that men do, they create the spirit of the home, teach the children, they don’t need to perform so many mitzvot because of their nature, and so on.  They can be very persuasive indeed – Chabad, for example, have a great marketing machine relating to the women’s role (and that’s how it can come across, altough I do find it a useful resource).  But still, that mechitsa does bother me – and it always did.  And then there are the issues of kippah, tallit and tefillin.  There is no issue in LJ about whether it is appropriate for women to wear/use any or all of these, whereas of course, they are discussed at length in Orthodoxy (or rather, not discussed at all, because there is nothing to discuss).  I think it would be a very brave woman indeed who appeared at shul in a kippah and tallit and decided that she would lay tefillin at home.  And as for a female rabbi – well…

Why do I mention these outward symbols of faith specifically?  Why the issue of female rabbis?  Of course, it’s a personal thing.  I don’t yet own and therefore don’t use a tallit or lay tefillin - I can’t, apparently, because I am not yet Jewish (although I do beg to differ there – I can’t use them because using them involves saying a blessing that states that I have been commanded to do so – I can’t have been commanded because I am not yet Jewish.  I know for a fact that I recite other blessings regularly at the instigation of the rabbi that involve the phrase ‘who commanded us’, so what is the difference?).  Anyway, I fully intend to use both, once I am Jewish.  It’s not because I want to be like a man, want to have everything that a man has and think it is my right, as a protest for feminism.  It’s a spiritual thing.  Every Shabbat, I see one member of our congregation put on his tallit – he says the blessing, kisses the atarah and then puts it on.  I almost feel like I am intruding when I watch this – it is such a personal and spiritual thing to do – dividing the day into a ‘before’ and ‘after’.  I see the tallit as a symbol for wrapping myself in G-d’s presence and can totally understand the extra layer of closeness that many say that it brings.  Ditto for teffilin

Ah yes, and female rabbis.  Sometimes, there are things that only a woman can discuss with a woman, no matter how wonderful the male in question.  I have a good mix of male and female friends and I know that it is very unlikely that I will treat them all the same.  It’s just not possible – so I think female rabbis are a bonus to the community.  I also know that somehow, I want to contribute to the future of Judaism in the years ahead – the fact that this opportunity is open to me if it is right for me (and my BH) is a wonderful prospect.  I can’t imagine an environment in Orthodoxy where that is the case.

I have been pondering a great deal lately.  My eyes have opened to many things.  As I wrote right near the beginning of this post, there are things about LJ that I am not necessarily 100% happy about.  But the movement allows me choice in almost any area, which in turn means that I can follow my own path without fearing that I am falling foul of any rules or regulations.  It is quite probable that I will fall within the definition of being more observant than others – to me it’s an important way to connect to my lost heritage – but this doesn’t, in my eyes, make me a better Jew.  It just makes me who I am, and their level of observance makes my Jewish friends who they are.  There’s plenty of room for us all.

From Jew-ish to Jewish

As I hinted at a little obscurely over the weekend, I have been very lucky enough to have a piece that I wrote accepted on The Jewish Writing Project blog, which was set up in October 2008.

My piece has just been posted here – so please do go and take a look if you are interested. 

Even more importantly, if you feel moved to write something of your own for submission – do it!  I think it’s extremely important to have a resource like this – a living record of the different types of people that make up our wonderful and vibrant community.  (I would have written this whether my offering had been accepted or not, of course!).

teshuva

The Butterfly – Pavel Friedman

The Butterfly

The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun’s tears would sing
against a white stone. . . .
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly ‘way up high.
It went away I’m sure because it wished to
kiss the world good-bye.
For seven weeks I’ve lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto.
But I have found what I love here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut branches in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly.
That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don’t live in here,
in the ghetto.

- by Pavel Friedman

Pavel Friedmann was born in Prague on January 7, 1921. He was deported to Terezin on April 26, 1942 and later to Auschwitz, where he died on September 29, 1944.

butterfly

[This image from a gallery (not mine) on Flickr].

Modeh Ani

Modeh Ani L’Fanecha, Melech Chai V’Kayam, Shehechezarta Bi Nishmati B’Chemlah; Rabah Emunatecha.