Honoring the source, paying it forward

היום שמנה ועשרים יום, שהם ארבעה שבועות, בעמר
Today is twenty-eight days, which is four weeks, of the omer
מלכות שבנצח
A day of leadership in a week of perseverance

On this day of leadership in perseverance, I honor Enid Roth, who was in the first wave of women in broadcast television; who stood up for the right of women to have equal opportunities. She didn't win all her battles, but her voice was, however reluctantly at the time, heard. Enid was hired at NBC in 1952 as an executive secretary and rose in the ranks to become a news director. She was one of my role models at NBC, and I often think of her as I advise other women.

I also remember Enid's sharp wit, which, as I found out, has not been lost even if her memory is dim. I was so happy to see her at the Peacock North luncheon last week. I went up to her, wanting to tell her how she mattered in my life. I greeted her with, "Enid, I know you won't remember me, it's been 30 years." Still grasping my hand, she looked at me with a wry smile and said, "I wouldn't remember if I saw you yesterday." I told her that was fine, I remembered her, and thanked her for the time she took with me, how I take that time with others now. She was genuinely touched for that moment--a moment she may not remember but I will.

Yom HaAztmaut -- with sadness.....

היום תשעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וחמשה ימים לעומר
Today is nineteen days, which is two weeks and five days of the omer
הוד שבתפארת
A day of humility in a week of compassion

Today is Yom HaAztmaut - the 64th anniversary of the formation of Modern Israel.

In my youth, I marched in parades in NYC to celebrate this day. Israel was so important to me. Growing up in the shadow of the Shoah, it meant a lot to know that I had a place I belonged, a place where someone could not tell me to leave--a place I was not an "other." In 1968 when George Wallace was running for president, I remember clearly feeling that if he won, I would move to Israel.  I was not going to sit still and wait for the next version of overwhelming anti-semitism. I was going to where I could freely live as a Jew.

But sadly, I no longer feel that Israel is a place where I can freely live as a Jew. And even more sadly, it's because my engagement with Judaism is now deeper. When I was a girl, much of the primary Jewish ritual was inaccessible to me, purely because of my gender. I was no rebel in this regard, pretty much just accepted the strictures that were in place--although I really wanted an aliyah :)  I was in an environment where boys and girls were treated equally in the realm of Jewish learning, and that worked for me. I never felt inferior--there were just things that were not mine to do. And, for whatever reasons, I did not question that.

In the late 70s and 80s, living on my own in Manhattan, I was unconcerned with my Judaism. It's easy to be Jewish in New York. With my family close, living in a place where Jewish life is woven into the culture of the area, I could check in and out as I wanted. It was always there for me.

When I moved to San Francisco in 1986 I had to find a relationship with Judaism that generated from me, not from outside sources. There was no family close where I could share holidays and I was unaware and unconnected with the Jewish scene here. I began my own Jewish traditions which I shared with my friends--Channukah Football Sunday; leading a user-friendly seder for 50 on a video stage. I also discovered the new wealth of Jewish feminist writings. Although she is a half a generation ahead of me, Letty Cottin Pogrebin's "Deborah, Golda, and Me" really spoke to me. One story she tells that has stuck with me centers around when she attended the United Nation's Women's Conference in Copenhagen in 1980. It was there that she experienced anti-semitism in the name of "anti-Zionism." Ten years later, she writes:

"I wondered why Jewish women are applauded by the Women's Movement when we trudge through Judaic subcultures ruffling beards with our feminist demands, but not when we bring Jewish consciousness back the other way into feminism; or why we are cheered when we critique the Bible for its anti-woman bias, but not when we criticize feminists for their anti-Jewish jokes. . . Must we identify as Jews within feminism with as much discomfort as we identify as feminists within Judaism?"

It's now twenty years after that was written, and there's still a discomfort with women who take on traditionally male rituals in Jewish practice. Yes, I know, not everywhere...with acceptance growing and growing. A full discussion of this is not what this post is about. But even as there are many places in US where I feel free and comfortable in my egalitarian practice, Israel remains a real problem. Walking around with the marks from my tefillin on my arm can be dangerous; I cannot wear my tallit at the Kotel; carrying a Torah, for me, is an arrestable offense.

I am so glad there is an Israel, a Jewish state from which we cannot be exiled. But once I felt it was my home---now, I feel I don't belong.


Her crime--carrying a Torah.
Notice the women wearing their tallitot as scarves--the only way they are allowed without being taken away.....

Two Threads of My Life....

היום ארבעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות לעומר
Today is fourteen days, which is two weeks of the omer
מלכות שבגבורה
A day of majesty in a week of strength

My soul's ties to Judaism has two main threads that converge and join with modern influences to inform my practice and, in many ways, my life.

I definitely feel the call of the ancient. I can't remember a time when I couldn't read Hebrew or say the Shema--it was just a natural progression. On my road back to Jewish practice, as I chanted Torah and participated in Shabbat and weekday prayers along the way, the flow of the Hebrew language made a deep connection. And as I delve deeper and deeper into text study of the ancient scriptures, I also find a connection to those people, my people, my tribe. And from that tie also comes a link to the Middle East--a tie that, quite frankly, can bring pain right now. But as a Jew I do feel a tie to the culture of that region, with roots in the same ancient times as so many others.

In my mind, there's little doubt where my tribe ended up when forced out into the wider world. My ancestors did not go south, for I am Ashkenazic to the core--no DNA test necessary :) With Romanian on mom's side, there might be some gypsy influence, but the Galitziana in me from the Sniatyners on my dad's side is strong. Ken looks at family photos taken around 100 years ago, points at a little girl and says, "that could be you."

When it comes to the importance of Jewish ritual in my life--many rituals which stem from the Ashkenazic line--the tie gets complicated by my gender. For years I identified with the yeshiva buchers--boys. I wasn't happy with the identification, but it was the closest I could get. But as I've learned more Jewish history during the years, I have now found my place in those early years. I was in the women's section of the synagogue, leading them in prayer, sharing the Torah parsha with them.

Now, my identity as a New York Jew in San Francisco....well, that's the topic for another post :)

Organized Religion? I think not...

היום שלשה ושלשים יום שהם ארבעה עבועות וחמשה לעמר
Today is thirty-three days, which is four weeks and five days, of  the omer
הוד שבהוד
A day of humility in a week of humility

For the past few years, I've been pondering the statement I hear often from friends, "I don't believe in organized religion." It's often said as part of a discussion as to why I have taken on a Jewish spiritual practice. Sometimes I respond in a joking manner, "Have you read nothing about the different factions within Judaism? There's nothing very organized about the religion :)"

But as I get deeper into my practice in this time and space, I understand that statement more and more as I affiliate with the "official" Jewish organizations less and less. While I belong to a synagogue that is fiercely egalitarian, where women and men have equal footing in ritual practice, the movement it is affiliated, the Conservative Movement, won't take an unequivocal stand on that issue. At the synagogue that I grew up in, located on Long Island in New York, women still can't chant Torah, and if I were to attend their weekday minyan, I would not count as one of the ten needed to say kaddish. Yet they are also affiliated with the Conservative Movement, so my synagogue dues helps support them.

The Groucho Marx line keeps going through my head, "I don't want to belong to a club that would have me as a member." They want me as a member, but I don't fully belong. While some members would embrace me and my practice, others would block me from fulfilling roles important to that practice. And the big organization that is supposed to support me still, won't make a full commitment to egalitarian ritual practice in the name of not upsetting some of their members. I guess I don't matter too much to them, since upsetting me and others like me is okay.

Not a very uplifting message for the day, but one that I must continue to bring up and ponder--not just for myself, but for future generations of Jewish women.

Strong Women--then and now

היום שבעה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ו ששה ימים לעמר
Today is twenty-seven days, which is three weeks and six days, of the omer
יסוד שבנצח
A day of foundation in a week of perseverance

This coming Thursday I will attend a teaching given by the pre-eminent Jewish scholar, Avivah Zornberg. If you search this blog you'll find posts on other teachings of hers I have attended. Her lectures are very deep but oh so enlightening. The session I'm attending will be on the Torah story of the daughters of Tzelophchad--five of my favorite characters who appear in the parsha of Pinchas (Numbers 25:10 - 30:1). Pinchas is my birth parsha, a parsha that mentions nine women by name--something very unusual in the Torah, which was written within a very patriarchal society. These women, who I have dubbed "Women with Chutzpah" stood up for their right of inheritance. I am proud to have these strong women as part of my personal heritage. I can't wait to hear what insights Dr. Zornberg will shed on the tale of these outspoken women.

As a tribute to strong, outspoken Jewish women, I will once again share a favorite poetry jam of mine--Hebrew Mamita, by Vanessa Hidory. It is a rerun for this blog--I first posted this two years ago. But it is so good, it is worth another share.

Enjoy.....

Rosh Chodesh Sivan

היום חמשה וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is the forty-fifth day, making six weeks and three days of the omer
תפרת שב מלכות
A day of compassion in a week of majesty

Chodesh Tov! Today is the first of Sivan--six days to revelation.....whatever form that takes :)

I fulfilled the promise made in yesterday's post and dedicated my Rosh Chodesh Torah reading to Noa Roz and the Women of the Wall (WoW). Responding to a message from WoW posted on Facebook, I sent them the photo you see below so they can document the support coming to them from all over the world. I was glad to have my 90-year-old Russian friend Yitzchak in the photo with me. Sadly, because of circulation problems, he can no longer wear his tefillin. But he is proud and happy that I wear mine.

לדור ודור –– l'dor v'dor
from generation to generation
all genders included.

Shabbat Shalom

Women of the Wall

היום ארבעה וארבעים יום שהם ששה שבועות ושני ימים בעמר
Today is the forty-fourth day, making six weeks and two days of the omer
גבורה שב מלכות
A day of strength in a week of majesty

Earlier in the omer period, on Yom HaAztma-ut, I wrote about my complicated emotions concerning the state of Israel. That post centered around the Israeli-Palestinian relations--or lack thereof due to those presently governing Israel. That issue is only one part of why, like Jay Michaelson, I find myself in a position where I'm losing my love for Israel.

Another major factor contributing to my angst is the power the Haradi, the ultra-orthodox, have over Jewish ritual in Israel. Because of their stronghold that is legitimized by the Israeli government, I am not free to practice Judaism in Israel as fully as I can in the United States. This is solely due to my gender.

My first visit to Israel was in 1971 with USY Pilgrimage on a Jewish teen tour. This was years before egalitarianism was a part of Conservative Jewish practice, and I had no thought to wearing a tallit. This was still the case in 1980 when I was there on my second visit as a tourist, While I would consider myself a feminist at that time, I was removed from most of my Jewish practice so again, the act of wearing a tallit wouldn't have entered into my mind.

Throughout the past twelve years, I've continually increased my commitment to Judaism and taken on so many rituals that were previously out of my reach--getting an aliyah, reading Torah, wearing tallit and tefillin. It only recently occurred to me that all of that is still out of my reach in most religious settings in Israel--most importantly, at the Kotel, the Western Wall.

This is difficult for me to fathom. For years now, when I imagined myself in Israel, I would see myself wrapped in tallit and tefillin, davening Shacharit at the Kotel. The travails of the Women of the Wall have shown me another story--a tale that tears my soul. Women are being arrested, detained, and assaulted for the crimes of donning tallit and tefillin, carrying a Torah, lifting their voices in prayer.

The assault that happened this week is extremely chilling, for the woman who was attacked could have been me:

MAY 13^th -- Noa Raz, a Conservative Jew in her early thirties who lives and works in Tel Aviv, was physically assaulted early Tuesday morning by an ultra-Orthodox man at the Central Bus Station in Be’er Sheva for having the imprints of tefillin (phylacteries) lines visible on her arms.

She had woken up several hours earlier to pray and wrap tefillin, as is part of her daily routine. “I’m very pale, so the tefillin lines are still visible for hours afterward,” she said. While she was waiting for the bus to arrive, an ultra-Orthodox man in his forties stood next to her and stared at the lines on her arms. He asked her twice if the imprints were from tefillin. She ignored him at first, then admitted they were. At that point he grabbed her hand and began to kick and strangle her while screaming “women are an abomination.” She struggled, then broke free and ran to the bus which had just pulled into the station.

There were several bystanders present, though Noa Raz stated that the assault happened so quickly that none had time to react.

Raz arrived in Tel Aviv and sent out a message about the assault on Twitter. Dozens of people responded urged her to go to police to report what had happened. Raz contacted the police the following day, fearing that a similar incident would happen to another woman.

The Israel Religious Action Center (IRAC) has been working with the Be’er Sheva Police and has insisted they treat Raz’s assault as the hate crime that it is. To this end, IRAC has demanded that the proper resources be allocated in the search for Raz’s attacker, that security camera tapes be reviewed, and that the Chief of Police for Israel’s Southern District be personally involved.

Anat Hoffman, Executive Director of IRAC, stated that the assault on Noa Raz for wrapping tefillin “should not be seen as an isolated incident, but as taking place within an atmosphere of growing violence toward and intimidation of women who seek to pray freely and equally. Too often these acts of violence are tolerated. The fact that this man thought it acceptable to attack a woman for performing a religious act in private is an example of the escalation of violence targeted against women and against religious pluralists in Israel. We at IRAC are pushing the Israeli police to take this investigation seriously.” She added, “Noa, a member of Women of the Wall, is expected to join us tomorrow for Rosh Chodesh Sivan.”

Tomorrow, I will dedicate my Rosh Chodesh Torah reading to this brave group of women who are standing up for the rights of all Jews to practice fully in the land of our ancestors.

כן יהי רצון
May it be so

היום שבעה ושלשים יום שהם חמשה שבועות ושני יומים בעמרToday is the thirty-seventh day, making five weeks and two days of the omerגבורה שב יסוד
A day of strength in a week of foundation

I'm watching the returns of the British election---a turning point moment for the country. Will the Conservatives get enough seats for a majority? Will it be a "hung" Parliament, with a coalition needed to form the government? At this moment, we still don't know.

But as interested as I am, that's not what I wish to comment on today. Instead, I want to share this article from The Forward written by Rabbi Amy Eilberg, the first woman to be ordained as a rabbi by the Jewish Theological Seminary, the rabbinical school of the Conservative movement. She reflects on the that moment, 25 years ago--what it meant then, what it means now. She acknowledges the challenges that still lie ahead as she pays homage to what has been accomplished:

Surely, many challenges remain. The so-called “stained-glass ceiling” remains firmly in place, although a handful of women have been called to lead large congregations as solo rabbis. The R.A.’s comprehensive 2004 study, “Gender Variation in the Careers of Conservative Rabbis,” demonstrated that women rabbis continue to suffer significant discrimination in the workplace, including lower pay, challenges to their authority and legitimacy, and the usual flow of disrespectful and foolish remarks.
Still, as I ponder the 25 years since my ordination at JTS, I am awed that we have collectively come as far as we have. For younger Conservative Jews, the denial of full equality to women is now inconceivable. Even the Orthodox world is actively wrestling with the question of women’s ordination.
Anniversaries invite sacred reflection. On this 25th anniversary of my ordination, I am deeply grateful for the joy and privilege of participating in this transformative time in Jewish history. My heart is drawn to the Shehecheyanu prayer, in which we thank God for giving us life and enabling us to reach this special moment.

I also say a Shehecheyanu in Rabbi Eilberg's honor, and in commemoration of reaching this anniversary. I am old enough to remember when ritual equality for women was unobtainable, far from inconceivable. I thank you, Rabbi Eilberg, for being one who cleared a path for those like me to follow.

Jewish Gender Rights

היום שלשה וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות ויום אחד לעמר
Today is the forty-third day of the omer - six weeks and one day
חסד שבמלכת
A day of loving kindness in a week of majesty


I've never considered myself an activist. Yes, there are issues I feel strongly about, but I've always been one who is more likely to compromise in the hope that things will move forward rather than pick a fight that could destroy the foundation of what I'm trying to build. Yet lately, I've found one place where compromise doesn't work for me -- the role of women in Jewish ritual practice.

When I was a girl growing up in the Conservative Movement I didn't have much of a problem with the limited roles I had in Judaism. It wasn't like I was stuck up in the balcony of my synagogue--we didn't even have a mechitzah, a separation of seating between men and women. The truth is that most of the boys I knew didn't participate in services much either--that was left to the adults. All I really wanted was an aliyah, to be called up to the Torah.

I didn't feel the barriers at the many USY--United Synagogue Youth--events I attended. No, I had nothing to do with leading services, but I didn't have those skills anyway. I sang and danced and discussed and argued with everyone--any gender-based ritual differences either went over my head or I just took them for granted. On my USY Israel Pilgrimage trip when I stood up for my right to change out of my skirt into shorts after my Shabbat morning prayers at the Kotel--the Western Wall, it never occured to me to make it a gender issue--how come the boys could wear shorts but not me.

In my adulthood I moved away from much of Jewish religious practice, but still found myself in a male oriented work world. At NBC in the late 1970s/early 1980s, I was one of a handful of women working in the videotape department, and one of an even fewer pool of women who were post-production editors. Actually, the latter group at the time was just two--my friend Dorene and myself. I dealt with a lot of mostly good-natured ribbing even as it was borderline misogynist. For the most part, I took it with a smile and then gave back as good as I got :)

I enter my elder years (gulp/sigh) once again involved in my Jewish practice--the rituals a key component to the spiritual realm I seek. It turns out that much of what I do now, the parts of the practice I'm drawn to, are acts that I had no entry to during the years of my youth based solely on my gender. And I cannot accept anyone telling me these rituals are off limits to me. When I enter as a guest into a community that still follows the customs of separation, I am respectful of their practice. But it pains me to know that the Jewish community that nurtured me as a child--a girl child--has not moved on from that time and does not welcome me in my heart-felt practice as an adult women.

I am lucky to belong to a community the embraces egalitarian principals. I'd like to think that the majority of the Conservatively affiliated synagogues do the same. But it is time for the USCJ to take a stand, to make egalitarianism in Jewish ritual an important part of what defines us as Conservative Jews. Making that stand can only strengthen the movement. Failing to make the stand, I believe, will contribute to the erosion of what was once a pillar of American Judaism.

Very sad......

The Hebrew Mamita

היום שני וארבעים יומים שהם ששה שבועות לעמר
Today is the forty-second day of the omer - six weeks
מלכת שביסוד
A day of majesty in a week of foundation

One week to go--we enter the final stretch of this omer count. I have some essays planned for this last week combined with some study of the Book of Ruth--appropriate as we're in the lead up to Shavuot, the festival when the book is read.

For now, I'd like to share with you the poetry jam of Vanessa Hidory, the self-proclaimed "Hebrew Mamita", who channels the spirits of what I like to call "women with chutzpah" -- a category that includes Ruth. (with thanks to Dorene for introducing her to me)

Reclaiming our Stories

היום אחד וארבעים ארבעים יומים שהם חמשה שבועות וששה יומים לעמר
Today is the forty-first day of the omer - five weeks and six days
יסוד שביסוד
A day of foundation in a week of foundation



This weekend, feeling the approach of Shavuot, I read some poems and essays from the anthology Reading Ruth: Contemporary Women Reclaim a Sacred Story. In her essay "Growing Up and Older with Ruth," Sylvia Rothchild mentions that her grandmother would sit in the women's balcony of her Williamsburg, Brooklyn shul, ". . . praying loudly, to help the women around her who couldn't read." Reading that, my mind jumped to Maggie Anton's Rashi's Daughters books in which Rashi's mother, wife, and daughters served that same role in their shul, leading the women in prayer. And then, it hit me.....

For years I've been saying that in a former life, my soul lived as a yeshiva bucher--a yeshiva student. Of course, I had to be a male--there were no women equivalents, as far as I knew. But now I see where I was within my Eastern-European Jewish community. I was one of those women like Rothchild's grandmother and Rashi's mother, wife, daughters. I was the women who lead the others in prayer. I sang loudly, sharing the spirit within me through the melodies.

And so, through my study of Ruth I reclaim my own sacred story. The mantle of the yeshiva bucher never felt quite right, but it was the only place I could go. Now I can feel the flow of my maternal ancestors within me as I continue to share my spirit through prayer.

From Blossom to Rashi

היום חמשה ועשרים יומים שהם ארבעה שבועות לעמר
Today is the twenty-eight day of the omer - four weeks
מלכת שבנצח
A day of majesty in a week of endurance


Maggie Anton posted on her Facebook page that Rashi's Daughters has been optioned for a movie or TV series by Mayim Bialik.

Who is Mayim Bialik? Well, she starred in the 1980s sitcom Blossom. She'd like to get back into acting, although her life has taken some interesting turns in the time from her early fame to now. Reading this post on Jewcy, I found out:

"She's earned a Ph.D. in neuroscience and has undertaken cutting-edge studies at UCLA as one of the top researchers of Prader-Willi Syndrome in the field. (Read more about the disorder here, or sift through Bialik's blog to find out about her work.) She's also testing the waters of going back into acting, with recent appearances on Curb Your Enthusiasm and Bones. And she's also in the middle of another big revival: she's experimenting with being an observant Jew."

The full post has an interview with Ms. Bialik. It's a good interview and I can appreciate her turn towards Jewish learning and practice. What makes me a bit sad is that she talks about davening:

"I haven't done that for about 2 years. It's in conflict with some of what I've been learning, but it's also in line with a lot of what I do as a performer. It's a great honor to daven, and to daven on behalf of a community. My grandfather was a chazzan in San Diego and the Bronx, and I inherited his voice. It takes a lot of learning, and it takes a lot of kavanah [concentration], but it's complicated, as anyone in this line knows.

And there's a reason that, in traditional Jewish circles, women don't lead services. I've been pregnant twice in the past three years. Going to shul has been incredibly different after having one child, and then having, thank God, two children, it's been even more different, and Judaism kind of knows that."

I hope she can find her way back to leading services--it seems like something that called to her. I just don't get the leap from women caring for small children not being able to lead services to no women being able to lead services. And I want to be supportive of women like Bialik's mentor, Allison Josephs, who (from her website, Jew in the City):

"has begun a campaign to change the public perception of Orthodox Jews and traditional Judaism through her videos and blogs. She's also editing an anthology debunking the most common myths and misconceptions people have about Orthodox Jews."

I respect these people, I respect their practice, but it's hard for me to accept a Judaism that won't allow me to participate fully just because of my gender. I don't take it personally and I know it's just a different way of practice---but it still doesn't feel right.

Maybe in the process of making the Rashi's Daughters movie, Bialik will see that the barriers that Orthodox Jews put up to deny women's role in some rituals are not Jewish Law but are custom, albeit custom so deep-rooted that it is considered law. Maybe once again she receive that honor of leading her community in prayer.

Writing what you want; Finding what you need

היום ערבעה עשר יומים שהם שני שבועת לעמר
Today is the fourteenth day of the omer - two weeks
מלכת שבגבורה
A day of majesty in a week of strength



Last night I went to Berkeley Hillel for a talk with Maggie Anton, the author of the series, "Rashi's Daughters." The first two books are available now, with one more on the way. I've read the first and am about to start on the second. I encourage you all to read the books. Not only are they a great insight into Jewish life in Western Europe during Rashi's time (11th/12th century), but the stories will hold you as well.

However, last night it was Maggie Anton's story that impressed me. On her path of taking Judaism from a secular place to a spiritual place in her life, she joined a women's Talmud study group led by Rachel Adler. As she delved deeper into Talmud, she was drawn to research the family of the renowned Jewish scholar Rashi. Anton knew that Rashi only had daughters, and there are legends that they studied the sacred texts with him and put on tefillin, both things women are traditionally forbidden to women.

Her research turned into outlines for 3 books--one for each daughter. She retired from her career as a chemist for Kaiser Permanente's Biochemical Genetics Laboratory to write these books. Anton and her husband David Parkhurst, a lawyer, set themselves up to publish and market Rashi's Daughters Book I: Joheved. That first book touched many, and took off. The rest, as they say, is history.

For me, last night was one of those instances when you hear what you need to hear at a time when you can hear it. It was great to see someone who just kept going where her heart and soul told her to go, and she made things happen.

Her thorough research and the importance of finding out all she could--studying on so many levels--is outstanding. She opens the door for us to Jewish practice in Rashi's time. The characters are based in the customs of their culture but imbued with the spirits of people close to Anton--such as her mother. This makes them come alive.

Why did she write the books?
"I wanted to write the books I wanted to read"

Chag Sameach Pesach!

I wish you all joyful and tasty seders.

As a start to this Festival of Freedom, I share with you a poem by Fanny Neuda, brought to us in English by poet and editor Dinah Berland. Neuda wrote Hours of Devotion, a book of Jewish prayers for woman, which was published in Germany in 1854. Read her words, and you'd think it was written today. (Click here to read other selections from the book.)

ON THE FIRST DAYS OF PASSOVER

Dear God, the festival of Passover has come--
The joyful feast memorializing the days of jubilee,
when you redeemed our ancestors
From inhuman oppression and carried them
With an outstretched hand
Into the beautiful land of liberty,
From the dark dwellings of error and false belief
Into the sunny realms of knowledge and the pure,
Gladdening faith in you and your divine word.

With deep emotion and joy, we celebrate this holiday,
Which reminds us of that happy time
When you chose Israel for your inheritance,
Elected her from all nations,
Wedded her to you as a bridegroom weds his bride
And bound her to you with the ties of grace and love--
The tme when your people, in return, clung ot you,
As a youthful bride to the heart of her beloved,
As a chid to its mother's breast--
When they followed you, full of love and faithfulness
Into a strange, unknown land,
Followed you into a vast desert wilderness.

A long space of time has since passed,
And the heart of your people has often changed,
But your love has always remained the same.
You have been a help and refuge
To our ancestors from eternity,
A shield and a help to their children after them
Throughout all generations.
You are our guide, our protector, our guardian,
As you have been in all times.

We have passed through more than one Egypt.
Hatred and predudice have set
A heavy yoke around our necks,
But through the darkness of misery and oppression
A ray of your grace has continually shone above us
And has at last brought a morning of redemption
In which our human dignity is recognized
And we live free and undisturbed
Under the protection of mild and just laws.
Oh, may you, O God, continue to be with us.
As in the days when you burst the chains
In which we sighed, and with an awful hand
Broke the yoke of bondage and tyranny,
So may you deliver and redeem our souls
That they may rise above all attacks
From within or without.

As you hurled the many idols and gods of Egypt
from their altars, so may your boundless mercy
Release us from the idols that attract us today,
And let every cell and organ of our bodies be filled
With your incomparable, exalted, and glorious being.
May we be thoroughly infused by faithfulness and love,
By unconditional, unwavering confidence,
And boundless attachment to you.
You are the shield and savior of every human being
As well as of whole nations.
You comfort them
In the midst of trouble and suffering. Amen.

New Links to Jewish Women

In honor of Parsha Pinchas, in which nine women are mentioned by name, I just added three new links in the "Some Jewish Blog Favorites" section in the left hand column of DivahWorld. They all deal with issues facing Jewish women today.

Jewess: The Tribes Better Half is described as, "a blog about Jewish women's issues, and is part of the Canonist network of religion blogs." The most recent posting is a drash on this week's parsha, Pinchas, written by my friend and rabbi-to-be Danya Ruttenberg. Pinchas is my birth parsha, so it is close to my heart. In fact, I will be chanting the entire parsha tomorrow morning at Shabbat services. Danya's drash deals with the daughters of Tzelophchad, a group of five women who stand up in front of the entire community to ask for what is rightfully theirs. I fondly refer to them as "Women with Chutzpah."

The Jewish Women's Archive Weblog is part of the Jewish Women's Archive site--a link I also just added to the Links list. This blog is titled "Jewesses with Attitude: Where Jewish women tell it like it is." Do you get the theme here? The Archive is a great resource for all issues dealing with Jewish women. Explore on your own, but I would like to call your attention to the American Jewess Project, which is making this first English-language publication directed to American Jewish women, published between April 1895 and August 1899 available on the web.

I've also added The Lilith Blog, a part of the Lilith Magazine website. I have been a subscriber to Lilith--a quarterly magazine that describes itself as "Independent, Jewish, and Frankly Feminist"--for many years. It is a wonderful source of news, information, and literature by and about Jewish women. If you know any Jewish "women with chutzpah," this is a great gift for them.

Shabbat Shalom.

Counting the Omer Day 22 - 3 weeks, 1 day

Today is Chesed she b'Netzach - a day of loving kindness in a week of endurance.


This photo of the Barbie Minyan is from the workshop of Jen Taylor Friedman, artist and soferet - scribe. I've shown other Tefillin Barbies of hers in this post. In addition to making Tefillin Barbies and her other scribe related commissions, she is in the process of writing a Torah scroll, the only woman doing so at this time.

I've also written about the dilemma Jewish women often face when they take on the mitzvah of tefillin (You can find that post here.) Jen Friedman is trying to support women who wish to take on this mitzvah by starting a women's tefillin gemach - a place where women who wish to take on this mitzvah but cannot afford a set of tefillin can obtain one. So if you have any tefillin around that you're not using, go to her website, www.geniza.net to contact her.

Counting the Omer Day 10 - 1 week, 3 days

Today is Tiferet she b'Gevurah - a day of compassion in a week of strength.


At Ritualwell.org you will find Rabbi Jill Hammer's Omer Calendar of biblical women. Day 10 is the day of Deborah, the only woman judge mentioned in the Book of Judges.

My feelings on the place women and the GLBT community have in the Conservative movement's "Big Tent" theory is clear--see this post. My bottom line--the theory doesn't work unless anyone can go everywhere in the big tent, and only straight males have that privilege.

One of the voices who reflect my views is Rabbi Judith Hauptman, a pre-eminent Talmudic scholar and professor at the Jewish Theological seminary, where she has taught since 1973. (If you read this bio from the JTS site, you'll see in the last paragraph that her rabbinical ordination is from the non-denominational Academy for Jewish Religion. Why not JTS, I wonder.......). Two years ago, as the Conservative movement was facing a change in leadership, she wrote this article in The Jewish Week outlining the challenges that lie ahead. Today, in a drash published in The Forward on this week's Torah parasha, Shemini, she continues the theme but expands the challenges to the entire Jewish community. She also outlines changes in Jewish practice regarding women and gays across all denominations. While there is still a long way to go, she reminds us that there has been evolution and there is cause for hope:

"The larger point in this entire debate is that the past 35 years have witnessed the halachic maturation of the American Jewish community. Every one of its segments, in one way or another, has adapted itself to the realization that women are as fully human as men. Every one of its segments is also rethinking its attitudes toward, and its treatment of, gay men and women. We tend to focus on the issue of the moment. If we look instead at what has happened to Judaism over time, we will find it exhilarating: The American Jewish community has restored the ethical impulse to its halachic deliberations. A cause for celebration."

כן יהי רצון Ken y'hi ratzon - May it be so.

We Can Do It and We Will

This month marks my six year anniversary of taking on the mitzvah of wearing tefillin. I had been attending minyan for five months at that point, and was ready for the next step. I will always remember that first moment of standing in the Beth Sholom chapel, slipping the yad tefillin--the one for the arm---up above my elbow, tightening the loop, feeling the box touch my breast. It was like an electric current traveled straight to my heart and soul. I said the first blessing and wound the leather strap seven times around my arm. I donned the head piece and finished the wind for my hand, forming the shin, dalet, yud representing Shaddai--one of the names of God. I had, in the words of the Shema, bound the sign on my hand, and the frontlets between my eyes.

I still get that electric feeling when I put on my tefillin. I've been on a bit of a journey with the sets that I've used, but that's added to my appreciation of the ritual. I bought my own set when I first made the decision. I then switched with my brother, who couldn't use the set he received on the occasion of his bar mitzvah because the straps were not long enough. I never felt comfortable with his set. One reason was that they wound away from me Sephardic-style and I prefer the Ashkenazic-style of wounding towards me. Plus there was this inherent feeling that they just were not my tefillin.

I then got a set from my dad that was part of our family heritage. He didn't know whose tefillin they were, maybe they belonged to his dad, maybe one of my grandmother's brothers. I had them checked and although they were probably about one hundred years old, they were still kosher. I replaced the straps and had them reblacked and they were mine. I loved those tefillin. They were small and fit me well. It gave me a tie to past generations, although I'm not sure how the original owner would have felt if he knew someone of my gender was using them. I like to think that he would be proud that they were being used.

About this time last year a bag with my tallit, yad, kippot, and those tefillin were stolen from the trunk of my car. I was devastated. It was like stealing a piece of my past. I went back to wearing my brother's set, but now they felt even more foreign to me. I spoke with my brother, and he agreed to switch back. So I've now come full circle.

I still mourn the lose of my ancestor's tefillin but I have to admit that the set I use--the set that I bought when I started--feel closer to me than those. They really feel like mine. I own them, just as I own this ritual that so many would like to keep from me.

But we, Jewish women, have always been able to take on this mitzvah and more of us are now doing so, proudly and publicly.

כן יהי רצון Ken y'hi ratzon - May it be so.

21st Century Esther

The Purim of my childhood was definitely a kid event. Okay, maybe because I was a kid at the time. But the Purim I remember was basically a Hebrew School event. I have a dim memory of some evening readings, but not with adults dressed up in costumes, only the kids. I certainly don't have any pictures in my mind of adults drinking in the sanctuary.

Since joining Beth Sholom in 2000, I have been able to celebrate Purim to the fullest, with the participation of both children and adults. This year was no exception. The only difference with years past is that since our building is under construction we joined with the two other Conservative congregations in San Francisco, Ner Tamid and B'nai Emunah, to make it a community event. But most of us--from the youngest to the oldest--were decked out in some semblance of a costume. And many of the adults were tasting different sorts of alcoholic beverages that were making the rounds. After all, the Talmud says you are supposed to drink until you can't tell the difference between "cursed is Haman" and "blessed is Mordechai."I will say, quite modestly of course, that my etrog infused vodka was particularly tasty this year. We had a costume parade accompanied by our very own community klezmer band, a Purim shpiel put on by the religious school students that was a hoot, and the reading of the Megillat Esther with the requisite noisemaking to drown out the name of the evil Haman.

At Beth Sholom we read the Megillah at morning minyan once again. It is important, since the tradition says that every Jew should hear the megillah read each year, and many either can't come in the evening or, like me, prefer to concentrate on the festivities rather than the story. We also chant Torah on Purim morning--the verses from Exodus in which the Israelites prevail against the attack of Amalek just after they cross the Red Sea (Ex17:8 - 15).

Although I was almost called into service this year, I have managed to get away with not yet learning the trope for Megillat Esther. I would much rather celebrate in the evening with no responsibilities. So for the morning service I volunteer to read Torah each year. The service itself is usually a low key affair--no costumes, although we still make noise to blot out Haman's name.

This morning, I decided to go in costume. There was something empowering for me to have "Queen Esther" read the Torah--in tefillin, no less. In many ways, I stood there for all the little Jewish girls who dress up like Esther on Purim--a most popular Purim costume for many generations past and one that I dare say will continue for generations to come. But when I was a young Esther there was no Torah reading for me. I wasn't counted in minyan or allowed an aliyah.

The girls and women of today can have that access to our traditions. I often wish it had happened sooner--my life path might have taken a very different route. But at least it happened soon enough for me to partake fully in the practice of Judaism, and to help the next generation of Jewish women to fully realize their spiritual potential within this rich tradition.

So to all the young Esthers out there, I say...

YOU GO, GIRL!!

American religions?

In today's SF Chronicle there was a profile of Ingrid Mattson, elected in August to the presidency of the Islamic Society of North America. Not only is this a first in regard to her gender, but she is also the first convert and the first non-immigrant to head the Society, ". . . the largest Muslim umbrella organization on the continent." The article goes on to state, "Her rise to prominence comes as more women and native-born Muslims are defining the faith, making Islam more of an American religion."

Although I understand what the writer is trying to convey, the phrase "American religion" seems to be an oxymoron. Whatever the reality is--and that's a whole different discussion--this country was founded on the principle of religious freedom, exemplified in the governmental division of church and state. I say that even as we have just embarked on this holiday season where Christmas is seen as universal and secular.

On the other hand, religion--in the spiritual sense of the word--needs be universal, transcending political and geographic borders.

I am glad that Ms. Mattson has risen to a position of such high regard in the Islamic religion. I think that this first step could have only been accomplished in a North American environment. I understand the important change that Ms. Mattson represents. I don't think that change should be to make Islam "more of an American religion".

The change is the breaking down of gender discrimination in religious practices. To recognize the value in the hearts, minds, and souls of all who seek that path.