Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

New Blessing Words--Lost or Found in Translation

היום ארבעה ועשרים יום שהם שלשה שבועות ושלשה ימים בעמר
Today is twenty-four days--that is three weeks and  three days--of the omer
תפארת שבנצח
A day of compassion in a week of perseverance


In the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism's prayerbook, Sim Shalom, the formula for blessing,
. . . ברוִך אתה יי אלהינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו
Baruch atah Adonai elohainu melekh ha-olam asher kidshanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu . . . 

is translated as "Praised are You Adonai our God, who rules the universe, instilling in us the holiness of mitzvot by commanding us . . .

Whatever issues I have with the translations in this siddur, this prayerbook, this isn't one of them. It's certainly an improvement over the previous siddur, which read:

Praised are You, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, who sanctified us with Your commandments and commanded us . . .

They are both literal translations, with the newer one working to deal with the issue of gender and hierarchy that are inherent in the Jewish prayer language that was written in a gendered language in a patriarchal society. I appreciate Adonai instead of Lord; who rules instead of King, instilling holiness instead of sanctifying. It definitely allows for a more inclusive prayer space.

This year, USCJ released a new siddur, Siddur Lev Shalem, It's based on the new Machzor, High Holiday prayerbook they released some years ago, Machzor Lev Shalem.

I haven't davened, prayed, with the new prayerbook yet, but in scanning through it, the translations I've seen are an improvement. Of course, there will always be those who are dissatisfied. And I have a feeling the new translation for blessings will be a target for that dissatisfaction--although I not from me. The new translation reads:

Barukh atath Adonai, our God, sovereign of time and space, who had provided us with a path to holiness through the observance of mitzvot and instructed us to . . .

I'm glad the "commandment" word(s) are gone--it has such an overbearing feel. I think the most controversial wording will be "time and space" instead of "universe." I once used that in a Haggadah, the booklet of the Passover seder, that I wrote, and one of the participants loudly complained, "That's not what it says!" I replied, "it does in my translation :)" I can only imagine what he and others, will think about this.

What's your take?

Friday, May 13, 2016

A foundation of mindfulness

היום עשרים יום שהם שני שבועות וששה ימים בעמר
Today is twenty days--that is two weeks and six days--of the omer
יסוד שתפארת
A day of foundation in a week of compassion


Don't curse the deaf, or put a stumbling block before the blind,
be in awe of your God
I am Adonai

 -- Lev 19:14

This week we read Kedoshim, a part of the Torah that has many laws, many of which deal directly with how we live in this world with each other. The verse above is one that we read, one that I think we pass over with a "yeah, yeah, I know that."

But take another look, expand your thoughts from the physical manifestations of meaning.

There are many kinds of obstacles--spiritual, psychological, as well as physical. Blocks we put in front of others as well as blocks within ourselves.

And while the deaf may not hear the curses directed at them, words can fly in many directions, heard by many years. The much of the harm can be to the one spraying the curses.

The bottom line-----mindfulness is wonderful constant to have in your life.



Sunday, May 01, 2016

Turning point

היום שמנה ימים שהם שבוע אחד ויום אחד בעמר
Today is eight days--that is one week and one day--of the omer
חסד שבגבורה
A day of loving kindness in a week of strength




Reading previous omer writings, I get to connect to thoughts from another time in my life with a perspective of today. Below is a post from May 2011, just before I discovered the existence of The Kitchen. It captures a moment of realization on my path that lead me to where I am today.
___________________________________________________________

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 with which 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 help 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.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Taking memories forward

היום אחד חמשה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות ויום אחד בעמר
Today is fifteen days, which is two weeks and one day of the omer
חסד שבתפארת
A day of loving kindness in a week of compassion

Truly a day of loving kindness and compassion, as I officiate at an unveiling--the Jewish ritual marking the placement of a headstone at the grave of a loved one. It is not something I've done before, and I am honored to have been asked to lead this ritual so close to the hearts of the family who lost their husband and father. We will remember him, with tears and as well as some laughter. It is hard to see this reminder of his death, literally set in stone. But there is also a sense of moving on, letting go--not having the memories fade, but being able to keep them close without the immediacy of the pain. In this way, this ritual serves not as an ending commemoration, but as one that marks the beginning of the new journey.

Zichrono L'vracha -- may his memory be a blessing

Sunday, April 27, 2014

6 million...then and now

היום אחד שנים עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is twelve days, which is one week and five days of the omer
הוד שבגבורה
A day of humility in a week of strength

Yom HaShoah -- the day we remember those lost in the Holocaust.

At the start of my course on the Shoah, I share this with my students:
There are a little over six million Jews in the US.
Six million.What if all the Jews in the US were to disappear?
It's one way I can impress upon them the enormity of what happened in the Shoah. It's inconceivable and incomprehensible. For no reason other than they were of a certain religion and ethnicity, 6 million people were murdered. And too many people stood by and watched it happen.

We need to teach the why and how of what happened to truly honor the memories of those who lost their lives. Our remembrance needs to encompass a mindfulness that the conditions that brought on that horrible onslaught of the 20th century can happen, and I'm sure some would say has happened, again.

As a young girl growing up in the shadow of the Holocaust, the phrase "Never Again" was drummed into my brain. I feel the pain of that time and place. But I need to take that pain and have it fuel my passion to teach my students an awareness of need to work for justice in this world. The story of our people--the story of freedom and liberation that we told on Pesach; the stories of perseverance and survival that we tell this week--is the foundation of those teachings.

I stood yesterday to say kaddish for all of those lost souls--so many have no one to stand for them. But more than just remembrance--we need to take action in one way or another to ensure we do not witness another Holocaust for any peoples on this earth. In that way, we can truly make their memories a blessing.


Saturday, June 29, 2013

The 21st Century Daughters of Tzelophchad


Pinchas is a parasha that is close to my heart—it is my birth parsha. There are so many ways it speaks to me personally. But this year, this week in particular, this parasha speaks to us all.
During the school year, I teach Torah to 7th graders. I constantly impress upon them what I call “the magic” of the Torah—that these ancient teachings, these stories, these precepts, have managed to speak to each generation with relevancy for its time. And this week is one of the moments when the Torah’s teaching come to life.
In this parasha, there is mention, by name, of nine women—nine  women. So often in the Torah we to have look between the lines to find the stories of women in a document written in a time of strong patriarchy, yet here, out front, nine are named, giving them a true presence in our heritage.
We have Cozbi bat Tzur, daughter of a Midianite chieftain, killed by Pinchas. Now, granted, she is certainly not one to be emulated but still, she gets a name, unlike Potiphar’s wife in the Joseph story or even Pharaoh’s daughter, who plucked Moshe from the water.
During the counting and the listing of the genealogies, we hear "ושם בת אשר שרח – v’shaim bat Asher, Sarach” – The name of Asher’s daughter was Sarach. It is a name we have heard only once before, in Genesis (46:17). Sarach is listed there as one of the 70 souls who go to Egypt with Jacob, once Joseph’s true identity is revealed. She is the only granddaughter of Jacob listed. We never learn anything else about her—yet the mention of her name must note something of importance. One story is that she is the one who told Jacob of Joseph’s survival, and lived long enough to tell Moshe where to find Joseph’s grave in Egypt so that his remains could be returned to the land of Israel, as he requested on his deathbed.
When counting the clans of the Levites, we hear for the first time, the names of Moshe’s parents—not just his father, Amram, but also his mother, Yocheved. Yocheved is not just described as a wife or a mother, but as a Bat Levi—given that honor in her own right. Miriam, his sister, is also named.
And then there are the daughters of Tzelophchad, whom I have dubbed “Women with Chutzpah” It is the story of these women that comes to the forefront today, in this monumental week.
We first meet the five sisters, Machlah, Noa, Chauglah, Milcah, and Tirzah, in the list of genealogy (Num 26:33). There, we learn only that their father, Tzelophchad, son of Hepher, son of Gilead, son of Machir, son of Manasseh son of Joseph—had these five daughters; he had no sons. But unlike Asher’s daughter Sarach, we do learn more about them. After all the tribes are counted and named, including the tribe of the Levites, their story is told.
Our story begins (Num 27) with these five daughters of Tzelophchad, once again mentioned by name—Machlah, Noa, Chauglah, Milcah, and Tirzah, who come forward. They stand before Moshe, before Elazar HaCohen, before the Nese’im—the chieftains, and before the entire Ai-dah—the entire community. They stand at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting and state their case:
Our father died in the wilderness. He was not part of the rebellion of Korach. And he left no sons. למה—LAMA––WHY should his holding in the Land of Israel be lost because of this—give us a place among our tribe. Moshe brings their case to God.
And God says, the words of these women are right, you should give them their place in their tribe—transfer their father’s share of land to them. And so, God relays these new laws of succession for the Israelites. The first of these laws—if a man dies with no sons, his property will transfer to his daughter.
Before the daughters of Tzelophchad spoke up, Jewish law dictated that only sons were in line to inherit from their father—any sisters were excluded from the inheritance. The daughters of Tzelophchad stood up to this injustice. Some commentators note that in a time when so many of the Israelites were pining and whining to go back to Mitzriyim, to Egypt, these women were looking forward, wanting their portion of the Promised Land. Rashi notes that as the reason their genealogy, going back to Joseph, was mentioned once again at this time. Just as Joseph cherished the land, wanting his remains to rest there (Gen 50:22), these daughters of Tzelophchad were imperative in their request for their portion –“תנה לנו אחזה בתוך אחי אבינו – t’nah lanu achuzah betoch achai avinu" - Give us a possession as part of our family inheritance.”(Num 27:4)
 Other commentators are impressed with the manner with which the daughters of Tzelophchad
made their request. They did not rebel, like those who stood with Korach. Reish Lakish, a 3rd century Amorah, Talmudic rabbi, says that the women went through the channels Moshe set up for these types of disputes on the advice of his father-in-law Yitro—first they went to the chiefs of tens, who judged that since it was a case concerning inheritance, it needed to go to a higher authority. They then went to the chiefs of fifties, then hundreds, then thousands, then the chieftains. All gave the same reply—this needs a higher authority. When the daughters went to Elazar, he told them to go to Moshe.
So, the daughters of Tzelophchad—Machlah, Noa, Chauglah, Milcah, and Tirzah, stood in front of the whole community—including all the chieftains, Elazar HaCohen, and Moshe, in a place for all to see, and stated their case. And Moshe, seeing the deference shown both by and to these women, realized that this case needed to be taken to his “Supreme Court”, God. God ruled in favor of the daughters of Tzelophchad, and the law was changed. And while, as we will see next week, there was some modification of the law, the women were granted their inheritance in the land as stated in Joshua (17:3-6), “Ten portions fell to Manashe…because the women of Manashe received a heritage among his sons.
These righteous women saw the injustice they were subjected to, the denial of their inheritance, and knew the time had come to stand up and be counted. Imagine the courage and the chutzpah they had to have to question the patriarchal rulings of the time. A group of five women making a claim for all to see in a time of strong patriarchy. They stated their case with respect, and were treated with respect. They wished to honor their father and their heritage. They showed their desire to move forward into the land of Israel when others wished to go backwards. Their righteousness was rewarded with an implementation of a change from an unjust system of inheritance to one of justice. Aviva Zornberg, a pre-eminent Torah scholar of our time, teaches that this is the first instance of oral Torah – these women were responsible for setting Jewish law.

Fast forward thousands of years-------

Starting in 1989, a group of righteous women, soon dubbed the Women of the Wall, women who simply wish to respectfully and fully pray at the Kotel, the remaining Western Wall of the Temple, are harassed each time they go to pray. Harassed not just with words, but with chairs thrown at them. They, like the daughters of Tzelophchad, keep going through the system, saying LAMA—WHY can we not, rightfully, partake of our heritage. And while that struggle continues, they, like Machlah, Noa, Tirtzah, Milcah, and Chaglah, are bringing changes to the laws.
And then there’s Edie Windsor and Thea Spyer—two more “Women with Chutzpah” who literally danced together through life. These two women met in 1965, and fell in love. In 1967, Thea proposed to Edie, presenting her with a diamond brooch instead of a ring to avoid attracting attention. In 1975, when Thea was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, they modified their dancing—whirling on crutches, then a wheelchair—and remained committed to each other. In 2007, they were finally legally married in Canada, this time with a very public announcement. Thea died in 2009. And that beautiful, vibrant, loving 44 year relationship was treated like it never happened.
But Edie, in the name of Thea and their love, stood up like the daughters of Tzelophchad, went through the system from one court to another, and this week, the Supreme Court of our land said, “כן—YES” this women is right, this law is wrong and it must be changed.
It is my bond with the daughters of Tzelophchad, that makes this parasha my parasha, but we are all a part of their inheritance. They stood up for their rights and for equal justice. They did so with respect and with strength. As do Anat Hoffman and the Women of the Wall. As did Edie Windsor and her lawyer, Roberta Kaplan. And as did Wendy Davis and Leticia Van De Putte in the Texas statehouse this week, literally standing up for women’s rights and access to the health care they need. And as did Kris Perry and Sandy Stier who, along with Paul Katami, Jeffrey Zarrillo and their lawyers, fought and won the right for marriage equality in our state of California—and hopefully soon, throughout our country.
Rabbi Arthur Green teaches that each generation leaves a bit of their oil on the Torah as it passes through their fingers. What happened in this country this week will become some of that oil, bringing light and relevance to the story of Chaglah, Machlah, Noa, Milcah, and Tirtzah—the righteous daughters of Tzelophchad—and pass that on to the next generation of  “Women—and Men—with Chutzpah.”

כן יהי רצון –  Ken y’hi ratzon – May it be so
Shabbat Shalom

Sunday, April 14, 2013

The pink elephant outside the window


היום אחד תשעה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וחמשה ימים בעמר
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

One of my 6th grade students calls me "Teacher Marilyn." This puts a smile on my face. I may never be a rabbi, but I am a teacher--and isn't that a large part of a rabbi's role. I can only hope that my students remember something of what I teach them, and that something of these lessons stay with them for many years to come--even after my name fades.

I remember Rabbi Berger--a teacher I had in my after school Hebrew High School. He was a young Orthodox rabbi and, I would venture to say, Modern Orthodox before that specific term was coined. He taught us decidedly non-Orthodox teenagers with a depth that seems hard to imagine now. And now, some 40 years later, there is one class we had that still resonates with me. He must have tied it to some Jewish concepts, but that didn't make it to the memory banks. But the teaching remains.

We must have been having some sort of "What is reality" discussion. Please note, this is the late 1960s/early 1970s and that was what would now be called a trending topic :) First, he made us realize that if he said, "I see a pink elephant outside the window," we could not say that was not true. We could say that we didn't see a pink elephant outside the window, or even that there was no pink elephant outside the window--but we could not say that he did not see that pink elephant. Real or not, he was seeing it.

He then told us a more elaborate story. This involved going to Paris and getting lost looking for the entrance to the Louvre art museum. What if, he said, we finally found what we thought was the entrance, went in, saw the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo, and marveled at their artistry. After this experience, we go outside and find that, by mistake, we wondered into a movie set and what we saw were reproductions--not the real art. At that moment, our perceptions changed. But going back to the initial viewing---was that any less real?

I have held those stories for all these years. In the nuances of this omer day, they have given me a place of humility and compassion to hear the perceptions of others. And as I traverse this new path of Jewish education, it gives me a space in which to hear the thoughts of my young students. It lets me balance the need to bring them certain knowledge without stifling their own creativity.

I can only hope that some of the things I teach my students will stay with them for the long run. I hope I can instill in them an open way to view the world, where they can really hear what others are saying without judgement. Above all, I hope they can then bring that teaching to the generation that follows them - l'dor v'dor.


Saturday, April 13, 2013

Kavannah and Kevah


היום אחד שמונה עשר יום שהם שני שבועות וארבעה ימים בעמר
Today is eighteen days, which is two weeks and four days of the omer
נצח שבתפארת
A day of perseverance in a week of compassion

I've been working with friends of mine, teaching them about the Saturday morning prayer service in particular as well as the larger topic of Jewish prayer. Their oldest son will become bar mitzvah in early June, and they had been feeling lost in the service. I really appreciate their wanting to feel a connection to the ritual of prayer, to be able to participate in this important life cycle event in the way it was intended and not just be about the party.

Whenever I prepare teachings such as this, I learn something in the process. This assignment pushed me to get the first volume of My People's Prayer Book, edited by Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman. This volume, The Sh'ma and it's Blessings, gives a good introduction to prayer in regard to both form and function. It was there that I found one way to explain the prayer experience that I hadn't thought of before.

Jewish ritual is driven by two concepts -- kavannah and kevah. Kavannah is the intention of prayer, something that comes directly from within without the filter of the words in the siddur, the prayer book. It comes from the word meaning "to direct" - your words, thoughts, emotions go directly from your soul out to God--whatever that means to you. Kevah, meaning a fixed, stable state, is exemplified by the siddur, the words on the pages, as well as the order and times of the specific prayers.

Prayer is the balance between kavannah and kevah - between the structure of the service and the words from the heart. The balance point constantly changes with the needs of the moment. Sometimes the kevah--the strict order and liturgical verses can be a barrier to what you need to express. Then kavannah takes over--you can listen to the chants, feel the support of community, yet express your own feelings in your own words. Then there are times when more grounding is needed, you're looking for guidance and meaning. The words and prayers are there, carefully chosen to bring you into a state of release, where you don't have to work to find words and you can converse with God in a way that brings comfort.

Kavannah and Kevah -- another cycle of Jewish ritual that brings openings into a sacred space.


Tuesday, April 09, 2013

Making a Difference


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

The week of strength ends with strong connections in my Jewish world. Today I was part of a meeting about the Kitchen siddur-prayer book that we are creating. It was productive, creative and took place in the hour that was allotted. It's so exciting to be part of a process that will help those who participate in our services approach and interact with prayer. And how great to be part of a Jewish group that takes action, rather than just talk about what action to take.

I also got to talk with a friend I met this summer as part of the Jewish Women's Archive's Educator Institute. We both teach middle schoolers/teens in a synagogue after school setting. We both have a passion to reach these kids, give them a sense of what it means to be Jewish, how our Jewish identity influences how we see the world and how we, as Jews, are seen by the world. We both understand the importance of giving these kids a teaching environment that makes them think about these issues, not just teach them dogma. My friend saw my post on Jew in a Box and we talked about how to use it in class. It was great to collaborate with her, and we plan to do more of that to develop curriculum specific to supplementary synagogue schools.

Jewish connections from coast to coast that make a difference in all sorts of Jewish communities. A great way to end this second week of the omer.


Sunday, April 07, 2013

We are One

היום אחד שנים עשר יום שהם שבוע אחד וחמשה ימים בעמר
Today is twelve days, which is one week and five days of the omer
הוד שבגבורה
A day of humility in a week of strength

Today and tomorrow there will be many tributes posted to the memory of those lost in the Shoah, the Catastrophe, the Holocaust. Yom HaShoah is a day to stand in remembrance of all those lives lost, and all the souls who will never be.

It is also the place in time when, once again, we are reminded that--like it or not--we are, as Jews, one people. I know there are many who would argue, and I'd probably agree with a lot of their points. But it's hard to ignore the historical cycles of our past that are mirrors of each other.

Last Sunday I alluded to the Jewish penchant for dividing into party lines based on theological and political lines. Assimilation into other cultures has been going on for centuries. Traditions flow in separate lines with the difference of geographic location. Each subsequent generation brings its own interpretation to ancient rituals.

But from the Exodus from Egypt through the Babylonian exile to the destruction of the Second Temple through the Crusades, the Inquisition, the programs and on to the Shoah, there has always been this tragic correction where we have been reminded that no matter where we go in time or place, we are all part of one entity - the Jewish people. We were a global community long before the internet age.

What we do with that identity--what does it mean to us in this generation, and to the next? That's a matter for discussion. Feel free to share your thoughts here. But however you feel, whichever way you look, the Shoah has to be part of the dialogue, for it is, forever forward, part of all of our stories, part of the Torah we all share. Something we will not, we can not ever forget.


Tuesday, April 02, 2013

The Moveable Seder Plate


היום שבעה ימים  שהם שבוע אחד בעמר
Today is seven days, which is one week of the omer
מלכות שבחסד
A day of nobility in a week of loving kindness


Last night at the Food Justice Passover event, the room was transformed into a living seder plate with each traditional ritual object was represented by a Jewish group dedicated to supporting justice for all in the world.

Hazon and Urban Adamah brought light issue of hunger in our communities and the need of those along the poverty line to access to fresh, nutritious food.

American Jewish World Service and Fair Trade Judaica represented food justice on a global level, reminding us of the modern slavery and oppression that is often involved with food production.

New Israel Fund and Bend the Arc showed us ways to advocate for social justice in the world, how we can help create an environment where issues such as water rights and gender inequity can be resolved with Israelis and Palestinians working together.

And The Kitchen was there to make the case for why and how religion can matter while doing this important work.

After sampling everything "on the plate," we sat for our meal--a vegetarian delight. Each group prepared a text study dealing with their particular issue. There were two rounds of teachings, with each participant choosing which two they would like to attend.

I'm so glad to see the growing integration of Jewish study and social justice. I hear so many people bashing religion, viewing it as the source of so much strife in the world. While that may be true, I don't think it's necessarily the fault of religion per se, but of how it is being used or, more accurately, horribly misused. If more people can find lessons of justice in our ancient, sacred texts, they may also learn to find strength in the communities built around those texts. Even grappling with the difficult sections that seem to cause so much harm can open lines of communication with each other and discover interpretations that may bring those dark stories to light.

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Can't we all just get along - Easter Sunday Edition



היום חמשה ימים בעמר

Today is five days of the omer
הוד שבחסד
A day of humility in a week of loving kindness

I've started reading A Convenient Hatred: The History of Antisemitism, published by Facing History and Ourselves, an educational organization founded in the 1970s that is dedicated to "linking the past to the moral and ethical questions of our time through a rigorous examination of the root causes of antisemitism, racism, and other hatred." Facing History believes that "education is the key to combating bigotry and nurturing democracy." They have amazing resources for the classroom and work with educators to bring important discussions and teachings to their students.

Last fall I was part of one of their workshops, "Holocaust and Human Behavior." The history, structure, and insights I gained from this curriculum has been invaluable in developing the Shoah class I teach to middle-schoolers at Peninsula Temple Beth El in San Mateo. Too many of my students have no relationship to the Holocaust at all, no idea why it is important to them--as Jews or even as citizens of the world. With the help of Facing History and their resources, I am able to place them in that time, both as Jews and as German citizens. I can bring to them an understanding of the grand scale of this tragedy and what it means to us as Jews today. It also makes a space to talk about what we can do to combat the discrimination that goes on today--in ways both small and large.

I also teach about antisemitism in my classes, and am always looking for different ways to reach my students. This book, and the week-long online workshop I participated in last week will help me do that. As I read, there are times the phrase, "the more things change, the more they remain the same" pops into my head.

One example, especially apropos on Easter Sunday, concerns the beginnings of Christianity. We are reminded that Jesus was Jew. In describing Jewish life in Jesus's time, we learn that "Jews at that time were deeply divided over issues of faith and practice." Sound familiar? Instead of Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Orthodox, Renewal, etc, they had the Sadducees, Pharisees, Essenes. After Jesus's death, the book tells us, ". . . small groups of Jews met regularly to pray together and discuss his teachings. Among them were James and Peter, two of Jesus's disciples, or followers. They tried to share their understanding of their messiah with fellow Jews in synagogues and other gathering places." This brought a wry smile on my face as I could just imagine how well that was received.

I can accept that the belief that Jesus was the Messiah, the son of God, was never going to be accepted by the majority of Jews of any sect, making the break off of what was to become Christianity from Judaism was inevitable. But perhaps, in keeping with the sephirot we honor today, if both sides had more humility to see the good of each factions' teachings--those that include peace, love, honesty, compassion--there would be more loving-kindess between us all today.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The cycle continues...the counting begins...


היום יום אחד בעמר
Today is the first day of the omer
חסד שבחסד
A day of loving kindness in a week of loving kindness

With all good intentions, I meant to have this wonderful introductory post all written and ready to post last night after coming home from seder and my first night of counting the omer. While I managed a tweet--a new element added to the ritual this year, I'm feeling a bit stuck and almost nervous to start the writing practice. But like the Jewish yearly holiday cycle, the time comes and the ritual begins, ready or not. And that, one could say, is the beauty of following the cycle--you learn the practice is in the doing...the rest will follow.

For those who are new to this practice, I recommend you read this article by Rabbi Jill Jacobs. It gives a good basic explanation of the ritual along with the nuts and bolts of how to perform it. It is a counting time of 49 days starting on the second day of Passover and leading to the 50th day, which is Shavuot. It is a biblical commandment which was then adapted into rabbinical Judaism.

The Kabbalists added a layer by taking the 7 Sephirot -- emanations, illuminations, attributes that connect God, the Transcendent, to humans. For a bit more on this in a dogma-free manner, read this article from David Cooper. Each day of the week is one sephirah; each week is a sephirah. In the course of 49 days we encounter every combination of a particular day in a particular week. It can serve on a conscious, guided meditation on life as we count from Pesach to Shavuot -- from liberation to revelation.

This will be the 7th year that I have added my own ritual to the practice. I pledge to write each day. What I write is up to me. There doesn't have to be a thread, although there are years I've tried that. Sometimes my theme matches the sephirot of the day, sometimes not. The writings certainly aren't always stellar--but that's not the point. There just needs to be an entry, a counting, some words to mark the day.

There are friends who come on this journey with me in one way or another. Since I post the count and a link each day on Facebook, for some it's a helpful reminder to continue their own count. Others check in the blog from time to time; others read each day--with a shout out of love to my dad, who is my most faithful reader.

This year I'm added a tweet each night with the count--although the writing will mostly take place the next day. If you'd like to get those tweets, you can find me at @mdivah  

So, welcome to Omer5773. And appreciate that we start, as always, on a day of double loving-kindness.




Saturday, April 21, 2012

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 :)

Sunday, April 08, 2012

It's all about the food....

היום שני ימים לעומר
Today is the second day of the omer
גבורה שבחסד
A day of strength in a week of loving kindness


All the Jewish holidays have some sort of tie to food--or lack thereof. But Pesach brings the most intense relationship. Most of the other holiday/food connections are rabbinic and/or folklore creations. The food/Pesach link is more ancient than those, with the specifics told in the Torah. More than once we learn of this Feast of Unleavened Bread symbolizing our release from oppression onto the road towards freedom.

Everyone who attends even one seder becomes a part of this yearly reenactment that has been repeated for centuries. Food is not just served as the meal, it plays a central role in the ritual. The parsley and eggs; the matzah and bitter herbs--each has a blessing and a teaching.

And while Chanukah is the only other holiday where the food connection lasts a week, eating latkes or donuts is custom, not ritual. There's no blessing to separate sacred from secular, and there's no real importance given to the eating--there's no, to quote from the Maxwell House haggadah, "and thou shalt eat it." It's the candles that hold the commemoration, not the food.

On Pesach we must tell the story, and the story is in the food. And while you can get the connection from the one seder, following the tradition of no leaven for 7 days brings a different perspective. For now the seders are over, but there are still meals to be created for the rest of the week, still avoiding all leaven. The difficulty is not so much on the food itself--that's not too hard to adapt. It's the breaking free of habits, not being able to operate on automatic pilot. A different type of slavery we need to break free from.

And here is tonight's dinner offering--my first Sephardic mina -- meat pie. It was pretty yummy :)





Another Year, Another Count

היום יום אחד לעומר
Today is the first day of the omer
חסד שבחסד
A day of loving kindness in a week of loving kindness

And once again, the count begins.

A bit of an inauspicious start--I came home from seder last night filled in many ways, but forgot to post the count on Facebook. Perhaps that can be considered a good omen--maybe a slow start will lead to a fuller finish. As always, we'll see. Each year unfolds in it's own way. That's part of the point of this practice. It brings a way to be mindful of each day, be aware of what is happening around me and within me.
For those new readers, I offer a selection of links to help you understand this ancient practice. For those who would like the traditional "nuts & bolts" of the the ritual, go to this article by Rabbi Jill Jacobs from the website My Jewish Learning.com, a wonderful site to get a good range of information about all things Jewish. For an explanation of the Kabbilistic Sephirot that I reference each day, this article by David Cooper is one I like--it's straightforward, explaining the practice without the dogma. The Huffington Post is getting in on the act this year, posting their own daily omer reflections, which you can find here. And for fans of The Simpsons, there's always The Homer Calendar :)

As always, each day will reveal itself in it's own way, so I hesitate to predict or set a theme for the count. Periodically, I will be sharing bits of my omer journal from 10 years ago (pre-blog), as I navigated through the experience of chemotherapy. Two weeks ago, I posted the entry written after my first infusion. Here is a bit from that year's first day of the omer...

A week of loving-kindness, a day of loving-kindness.
It will be an interesting week, getting used to my bald head. I'm surprised at how, well, not-so-upset I am when I look in the mirror... 
There is a whole expectation that this will change my life. Maybe in the short term, but I'm not so sure about it in the long run. Yes, I've had to face my mortality, but I've also had to let those thoughts go-they're just not revelant now. I still need to just keep going day by day, taking each as it comes--once again, the mindfulness of being present. 
Being present with misery sucks, kind of paralizing. But it does attune you to listening to your body--small degrees of feeling better are fully felt. I've still got months of this cycle to go---is that a long time, or short, and does it matter. 
It just is...it will be...and then, it will be over.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

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.

Sunday, May 08, 2011

My Two Trees

היום עשרים יום שהם שני שבועות וששה ימים לעמר
Today is twenty days, which is two weeks and six days, of the omer
יסוד שבתפארת
A day of foundation in a week of compassion



I know this doesn't look like much, but amidst the dry dirt are two tree sprouts. Written on the back of this photo--"My two trees." These are the trees I planted in Israel during my United Synagogue Youth Pilgrimage trip in the summer of 1971. I can still remember the pride I felt, planting them with my own hands.

At that time, Israel was a place where I belonged. When George Wallace was running for president in 1968, I remember very consciously thinking that if he became president, I was going to Israel. I was not going to wait for "them" to come for me. Yes, I was an American, but as a Jew I knew that could be a tenuous connection--the German Jews were German, but ultimately they were considered "other." But as long as there was an Israel, I had a home.


Fast forward 40 years, and Israel is not a place where I belong. It's a sad irony that the one place where it once felt totally safe to be a Jew does not now support my Jewish practice--solely due to my gender. I have huge issues with the government's treatment of Israeli Arabs and the policies regarding the Palestinians.

My feelings towards Israel are so complicated, and for many years I felt alone as I held my thoughts. And then in September of 2009, I read an article in The Forward by Jay Michaelson entitled, "How I'm Losing My Love For Israel." Finally--someone who felt as I did, who understood being squeezed by all sides of the issues, and then needing to factor in those personal, inner feelings of unrest about what is happening and where, if at all, I fit in. As Michaelson concludes:

In my heart, I still love the stones and trees of Jerusalem, even though I know that love is sentimental, problematic and shared with people I mistrust. I am still awed by the tkuma, the resurrection and rebirth of my ancient people. And, yes, I feel like underscoring, I still support the State of Israel, its right to exist and the rest. Most important, it is still, in part, my home.
But especially on this side of the ocean, more and more of those who feel similarly have politics, agendas and overall experiences of Israel very different from mine. What they love is not what I love, and how they love is terrifying. And so while my love endures, my unease grows, and with it, the gnawing sense that this relationship is in trouble.

On this day of יום העצמאות - Yom Ha'Atzma-ut - Israel Independence day, I understand how important it is for Israel to survive as a nation and to guard the heritage of the Jewish people. But as things stand now it can not be my home. Knowing that makes me very sad.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Blessing, Breathing, Moving through

היום ששה עשר יום שהם שני שבועת ושני ימים לעמר
Today is sixteen days, which is two weeks and two days, of the omer
גבורה שבתפארת
A day of strength in a week of compassion

The Jewish prayer of "Kaddish" is a prayer of transition. In one form, it moves us through the different section of our services; in another, it moves us through our rituals of mourning. It is a prayer of praise.

I see it as a prayer of pause, like the holds, the spaces between the in-breath and out; the out-breath and in. A moment when the past and future converge in the present. It is no wonder that the following Marge Piercy poem, from her book The Art of Blessing the Day, speaks to me.

Kaddish

Look around us, search above us, below, behind.
We stand in a great web of being joined together.
Let us praise, let us love the life we are lent
passing through us in the body of Israel
and our own bodies, let's say amein.

Time flows through us like water.
The past and the dead speak through us.
We breathe out our children's children, blessing.

Blessed is the earth from which we grow,
blessed the life we are lent,
blessed the ones who teach us,
blessed the ones we teach,
blessed is the word that cannot say the glory
that shines through us and remains to shine
flowing past distant suns on the way to forever.
Let's say amein.

blessed is light, blessed is darkness,
but blessed above all else is peace
which bears the fruits of knowledge
on strong branches, let's say amein.

Peace that bears joy into the world,
peace that enables love, peace over Israel
everywhere, blessed and holy is peace, let's say amein.


Wednesday, April 27, 2011

God in a Mobius Strip?

היום תשעה ימים שהם שבוע אחד ושני ימים לעמר
Today is nine days, which is one week and two days of the omer
כבורה שבגבורה
A day of strength in a week of strength


On Wednesday evenings I teach Torah to 7th graders--12 and 13 years old--in San Mateo, a suburban community south of San Francisco. I use the Torah as a way to teach values and ethics and spirituality in the context of Judaism. At that age critical thinking is just coming into play -- at least for most of them -- and I also want to give them a safe place to discuss those new, sometimes uncomfortable thoughts that aren't based on concrete objects.

Tonight we had the God discussion that I have with each of my classes. I talk them through making a Mobius Strip. It's one way I can show something that's unexplainable--I certainly can't explain how or why it works. It gives me a chance to teach that God lives in the unexplainable, to say that God is the unexplainable. But we continue to try....

I give them a choice of descriptives for God:

Master of the Universe – God pulls the strings and works miracles

Watchmaker – God put the world together, wound it up, then left it running

List Maker – God takes notes on what we do and rewards or punishes us for our acts

Still Small Voice – our conscience, the voice of right and wrong

God is order, gives order – God is nature and scientific rules

Personal God – God is a presence which comforts us and has a personal relationship with us


The most popular description changes from class to class. This class gravitated towards the List Maker, with Master of the Universe a close second--definitely fans of the powerful, omnipotent God. No one went for the science God or the personal God.


I also gave them some words to catagorize their beliefs:


Theism – belief in the existence of God, either Monotheism & Polytheism

Atheism – a view which denies the existence of God

Agnosticism – the view the we cannot know whether or not God exists

Pantheism – God is equated with the forces of nature; God is in everything


The majority of my students relate to agnosticism. I think that's because they are just beginning to think about this and don't feel comfortable making a choice. One term, a girl said, "I'm an atheist and a monotheist." While these are opposites, I understood what she was saying--she's not sold on a belief in God, but if she did believe in God, it would be One God.


This is one of my favorite lessons because there's no right or wrong, yes or no. I just create the space for questions and discussion. Towards the end of the session, I let them all know that whatever they believe now is likely to change within some years, and will continue to change and evolve all their lives. Belief or not in God, in a transcendent spirit, or whatever other language you prefer, the unexplainable will always exist and how we deal with it is always subject to change.