Before we even start on this one, anybody else do a double-take at the name of this week’s parsha/haftorah? Bechawhaa? I looked it up and discovered it means, “when you step up,” and is the first distinctive word in the parsha portion. Turns out that all the names for the parshot come from the “first distinctive word” in the reading section. For example, last week’s Naso was “lift up” (and also a genus of, I kid you not, unicorn fish). Am I the only one who didn’t know that? (Not the part about unicorn fish, but the “first distinct word” part.)

Moving on to the haftorah summary. This week’s portion is from the priestly “minor prophet” Zechariah (who, incidentally has a cameo appearance in Michaelangelo’s Cistine chapel ceiling) who tells of visions of the golden Temple menorah, foretelling the moshiach descendant of King David would come to power, “not by military force and not by physical strength but by (G-d’s) spirit.” That indeed, he would find it as easy as lighting the menorah.

The term moshiach is confusing now because of how it’s been Anglicanized into Messiah and takes on a different meaning entirely. Initially, the word simply meant “anointed” as in by holy oils and blessings. The future Jewish king hailing from David’s lineage expected to rule during the messianic age was predicted to be anointed in such a manner, and unqualified, Moshiach refers to this heir.

The whole Messiah situation is where things get tricky, both in the Jewish-Christian dialogue and even across different interpretations of Judaism. There isn’t much in the way of terrifying apocalyptic end-time references in Jewish texts—quite the contrary, most alluded references depict a utopic presentation of life, justice, truth, and righteousness. Of course Christian texts interpret the Messiah as having already come and the apocalyptic end-time occurring at the second-coming.

Maimonides patently rejected this and otherwise presented his views in the Mishneh Torah.

Orthodox, Hasidic, Conservative and Reform have different interpretations of Messianic times. In Orthodoxy, one of the 13 Principles of Faith includes, “I believe with full faith in the coming of the Messiah. And even though he tarries, with all that, I await his arrival with every day.” Hasids tend to be ardent believers in the immediacy of the forthcoming Messiah and that their actions indeed can hasten arrival. The Conservative movement’s Statement of Principles suggests, “Since no one can say for certain what will happen in the Messianic era each of us is free to fashion personal speculation. Some of us accept these speculations are literally true, while others understand them as elaborate metaphors.” Lastly, the Reform platform is fairly unspecific, generally not necessarily subscribing to the notion of Messiah per se, but perhaps some version of the “messianic age” consistent with the utopic allusions in texts and synchronous with the World to Come and the principle of tikkun olam.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

The 70th anniversary of the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising was commemorated this year with ceremonies and speeches but some of the most meaningful commemorations sometimes take place in a more informal environment.

Such is the story of Irena Sendler which was brought to the attention of Jewish organizations and leaders by a group of non-Jewish Kansas students. In 1999 these girls began a research project dealing with the Holocaust. During their research they heard a rumor about a “female Oskar Schindler” and decided to investigate. Their investigation turned into an incredible account of a Polish woman who managed to save over 3000 Jewish lives during the Nazi occupation of Poland.

Irena Sendler was a young Polish social worker when the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939. She immediately joined the Zagota, the Polish underground which was dedicated to helping Jews escape the Nazis and, as part of that group, assisted over 500 Jews to escape from the Germans.

In 1941 Sendler moved to Warsaw where she obtained false papers that identified her as a nurse. With these papers she was able to move freely into the Warsaw ghetto to bring food and medicine to the Jews who were interned within the ghetto walls.

Sendler quickly ascertained the true intentions of the Germans and began a program of smuggling Jewish children out of the ghetto. Many of the children that she brought out of the ghetto were orphans, with no identifiable family, but others were children of parents who were still alive and had to be convinced to allow their children to be removed from their care. Sendler described her activities as “talking the mothers out of their children” and, all in all, she is credited with removing over 2500 children from the Warsaw ghetto.

Together with her Zagota comrades Sendler brought the children out by sewer pipes that ran under the city and through the old courthouse that sat on the edge of the ghetto’s border. In addition she sedated many young children and carried them out in luggage, bags and toolboxes or hid them under her legs as she traveled out of the ghetto by tram.

The children were hidden by sympathetic Polish families and in orphanages and convents. Sendler carefully recorded all of the children’s names on pieces of tissue paper along with the names of the families or institutions where she placed them for hiding. She hid these pieces of paper in jars which she buried in her garden, hoping that the children could some day be reunited with their families or, if not, with their Jewish community.

In 1943 Sendler was arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned. The Gestapo tortured her, breaking both of her feet, but Sendler never revealed the hiding places of any of “her” children. Her friends from the Zagota were able to bribe a German guard and secure her release and Sendler spent the rest of the war years in hiding.

In 1999 students at a Kansas City High School learned of Sendler’s exploits and, after careful research, publicized her story in a unique project — Life in a Jar. The students met with Sendler, who was, by this time, in her ’90s, and created a presentation that depicts Sendler’s actions during the dark days of Nazi rule. The play has been performed dozens of times over the past decade for audiences around the world. Later funded by a Jewish businessman, the project expanded to include a book and a website.

Buffets in general are just sleazy. Think about it: you’re eating piles and piles of cheap food while kids with sticky hands run around screaming and people with less than ideal hygiene sneeze, cough and manhandle the salad bar. That’s assuming you live in an industrialized nation where such a thing as a buffet could exist. Most of the world doesn’t work that way.

The first buffet in recorded history is in Parshah Behaalotecha, and it seems that quail was the “haute cuisine” of the ancient Hebrews. But beware: having abundance doesn’t mean jack if you’re on the wrong side of God.

http://punktorah.org/parsha-behaalotecha/
http://punktorah.org/parsha-behaalotecha-untitled-num-81-1216/

Dear PunkTorah Community,

I’m psyched to announce this contest, starting today until June 5th at 5PM Eastern. The winner will receive a free book, a personal “thank you” tribute video as well as another mystery prize from the PunkTorah bag of goodies.

So what’s the contest?

Pitch PunkTorah To Someone In 3.5 Minutes Or Less

Your job is to give a “sales pitch” about what PunkTorah is, what we do, and how PunkTorah impacts people.

The only rules:

1. You have to mention PunkTorah (duh!)
2. You have to say what PunkTorah does.
3. You have to ask for something. What do YOU think PunkTorah needs? More money? More staff? More website gizmos? That’s your call.

You can submit your entry via email, through YouTube or by placing a comment in our comment area below.

Why the heck are we doing this contest? Because PunkTorah is part of this cool program called ProteJ, and you need to know more about that.

Looking forward to reading/watching your entries!

 
This week’s haftorah chronicles the birth of Samson to the childless Manoah and his wife of Tribe Dan. A visiting angel informs the mother-to-be that her son is to be a lifetime Nazirite, and as such, forbade her from taking part in food or wine forbidden to the Nazirites. Samson would thus be blessed and foretold to save the Jews from their current Philistine oppression.

What is a Nazirite, you ask? Good question, because I had to look it up too. In Hebrew, nazir meant “consecrated,” or “separated,” which is particularly poignant because those who voluntarily undertook a special type of covenant even more restrictive than the Jewish law at-large, that individual must surely have felt separate. Among the vows: refraining from wine and intoxicants (as well as all things containing grapes), cutting one’s hair, touching corpses or graves (even of one’s own family members) among others.

In modern Hebrew, nazir is mostly used in reference to monks, including Christian and Buddhist monks, and you can see how that seems to apply—voluntarily taking on even more vows than the average religious observant.

The Torah isn’t exactly replete with references to this special segment of Jews, save for the story of Samuel, who became a prophet.We’re probably pretty familiar with the story of Samson—he grows up endowed by superhuman strength and heroism, and in various encounters, wrestles lions, takes on a Philistine army escort with a donkey jawbone as his weapon, and lastly, bringing down a pagan Philistine temple, crushing a number of political leaders (as well as himself). We’re also familiar with the mechanism of his undoing—like Achilles and his heel, Samson tells one of the Torah’s notorious bad-women, Delilah, his uncut hair is the source of his strength (as part of his Nazirite vow), which is revoked when she cuts it in his sleep.

Interestingly, if Nazirite seems familiar, the Greek word Nazarene of Christian reference is highly ambiguous in origin. The ritual offerings described in the Torah as the Nazirite takes his vow is virtually repeated in Christian biblical references to those of the Nazerene, which show up in 4th Century as a Christian sect, which at the time was rather ostracized, or “separate” if you will.

While searching for a stock photo for an article, I came across this picture. And it really resonated with me.

For many years, I was alone with my Judaism. No synagogue, no Jewish friends and as a convert, no Jewish family. There were no holiday parties or Shabbat services or Torah study. I felt alone, like this guy.

With PunkTorah, no one ever has to be alone with their Judaism.

PunkTorah does three things:

• Provide online Jewish learning to over 200,000 people every year
• Sustain spiritual community through online prayer services and classes at OneShul
• Help others who are alone in their Jewish lives through peer connection and support

If you have ever felt alone in your life, then please, support PunkTorah by giving a suggested $100 donation to our Shavuot drive. And if you can give more, then please do.

The future of PunkTorah and its community depends on you. On Shavuot, we celebrate the giving of the Torah to the Jewish people.

The question is: what are you giving?

Please support PunkTorah by clicking here.

In most Orthodox communities, married women cover their hair. That can be accomplished my wrapping your hair in a tichel, a Jewish version of the hijab, or wearing a wig.

This week’s Torah portion, Naso, gives the reason why. As Rabbi Wikipedia says:

“According to the Torah, the priest uncovers or unbraids the accused woman’s hair as part of the humiliation that precedes the ceremony testing for an unfaithful wife (Numbers 5:18). From this, the Talmud (Ketuboth 72) concludes that under normal circumstances hair covering is a biblical requirement for women.”

If the Wikipedier Rebbe is right about Parshah Naso, then covering hair for tzniut (modesty) purposes completely flies out the window, because if hair is really sexy, it would make sense for every woman cover her hair and not just the married ladies. So what gives?

The issue from a traditional perspective is one of appropriateness. For example, if you are married, is it appropriate to go out wearing clothes to attract amorous attention? Probably not. Was it OK when you are single? Sure! Same idea.

But if wigs and headscarfs aren’t your thing, Parshah Naso has some other keen insights…

My DNA is programmed with a neurosis that manifests itself in the weirdest and often times the most ridiculous of ways (Circle Pit the Bimah)

Does the Bible oppress women? (PunkTorah)

When a wife cheats on her husband (PunkTorah TV)

A Mountain of Blintzes by Barbara Goldin and illustrated by Anik McGrory is slightly based on the tales of Chelm, but in this version the setting is in the 1920’s in the Catskill Mountains instead of in the 1880’s in Eastern Europe, the author notes.

These bright illustrations engage the reader and bring to life the story of Sarah, Max and their five children who all work hard, but cannot afford the ingredients to make blintzes for Shavuot. Max and Sarah come up with a great idea: to do extra work. However, “Who has time for extra?” Max asks Sarah.

Sarah and Max somehow find the time to do the “extra” work and decide to put the coins they earn into the coin box. Max believes Sarah is putting her hard-earned coins into the box and Sarah believes Max is doing likewise. They each decide to keep the coins for other Shavuot necessities. The entire family is surprised when Shavuot approaches and yet their coin box is…is…well read this wonderful tale to find out if the family gests to eat those tasty cheesy blintzes or not.

Sadie and the Big Mountain is written by Jamie Korngold and illustrated by Julie Fortenberry. Sadie is a preschooler who loves her school: Temple Beth El. She also loves her teacher, Mordah Sarah. Shavuot is approaching and Morah Sarah explains that the class along with Rabbi Jamie will hike up their own Mount Sinai.

Sadie is worried because she believes she’s too small to ever climb that big of a mountain; she hates hiking and hopes she’ll have a tummy ache or chicken pox or even worse poison ivy by Friday, which is Shavuot.

Friday comes and Sadie isn’t sick, although she and her classmates made walking sticks for their climb and blintzes for their treat once they reach the top, Sadie is still very worried. Will Rabbi Jamie, Morah Sarah and Sadie’s classmates help her to overcome her fears and realize that anyone can reach G-d? Read this wonderful tale to find out.

Reviews are by Tamara Levine, who works in a children’s library and is active in our online community at OneShul.org.

Author’s note: I’ve been deeply involved in Jewish communal life in several different communities in three different states. Over the next few months, I will be sharing my insider observations about how synagogues function and why we need a new model. I’m “Jane Doe” because if I say who I am, there will be massive repercussions.

For the past year or so, I have run a synagogue out of my apartment: a synagogue for poor people. I can’t afford to belong anywhere else, so my friends and I do it on our own.

I used to belong to a synagogue. In fact, I was very active in the synagogue, was a member of several committees, taught religious school, and served on the synagogue’s board of directors. I paid dues to that synagogue because the synagogue ran on a shoestring budget everyone could afford to pay into. Unfortunately, I had to move several states away to a much larger city.

The situation here, which is probably typical in most places, is that the synagogues will allow younger and single members to join at a dramatically lower dues rate than their standard dues. After a year or two though, they will ask that member to raise their contribution to the “standard” rate. That’s what happened to me.

After a long string of terrible incidences involving the synagogue in my new town, as well as the demand for more money from the synagogue‘s administration, I decided to kill my membership (I’ll talk more about that in another post).

And so, with that, I became too poor to join a synagogue.

So I did what any sane, well-adjusted person would do, and I decided to start running a synagogue out of my apartment.

Running a religious organization requires money, and as someone who is running an amateur one and has sat on a synagogue board, I understand that. My contention though, is that in too many places, participating in Jewish life has become an all or nothing proposition. Either you join a congregation and pay the average $2,000 dues per year, or you contribute nothing to the community. And maybe, as a result, you even drop out of the Jewish community. As we move forward, I think more and more Jews will find themselves in the position of wanting Jewish community and being capable of contributing (through money, time, and/or talent), but not being able to contribute at the “average dues” level. For an middle-income person or couple, the average contribution level is out of reach.

Let me know what you think! What are your experiences with synagogues, synagogue membership, and membership dues?

Coming soon from Jewish Jane Doe: I don’t believe that just because I can’t afford synagogue dues I shouldn’t have Jewish community, and I’m willing and able to contribute money, time, and my talent. How to build a Jewish community for poor Jews.

I have a confession to make: I have math dyslexia. It’s never been diagnosed formally, but I have always had a sense of it.

Sometimes, when I read math problems, the numbers mix up in my head. A clock that says 7:30PM looks like 3:70PM. Although I am the Executive Director of PunkTorah, I don’t do our books but instead have a volunteer look over them, because it’s not my strong point.

Perhaps that’s why Parshah Bamidbar, otherwise known as the first book of “Numbers”, is a little off putting.

Luckily, this parshah isn’t about math. It’s about being a chosen people, about that aching feeling when you don’t know what to do next…and like all great stories of the Hebrew Bible, it can somehow be related to Batman.

http://punktorah.org/parsha-bamidbar-collect-em-all-num-11-420/
http://punktorah.org/racism-and-the-bible-parshat-bamidbar/
http://punktorah.org/parshat-bamidbar/

Jeremiah 16:19-17:14

Following the theme of this week’s double parsha, the haftorah concerns blessings and curses. For the idolater, Jeremiah warns, “Cursed is the man who trusts in man” and relies on mortal flesh for his strength. Jeremiah asks us, “can a man make gods for himself?” For those who put their trust and faith in a higher power, we’re promised that “in the year of the drought (we) will not be anxious.” Jeremiah tells G-d will “search the heart and test the kidney’s, to give according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds.”

In the haftorah, the prophets often forewarn of the perils of idolatry. In 2013 it probably doesn’t feel like that’s terribly relevant since few of us are worshipping little, but as I drive through my city or wander through the university district—it doesn’t take a particularly astute observer to notice we’re all paying homage (if not arguably enslaved by) our cell phones. We’re not bringing gold to shrines, but we’re certainly plopping down plastic for our favorite brands. We might not be doing little rain dances so the cloud gods may provide us rain, but often we look to politicians to solve an increasingly large number of our problems—social, financial, even moral.

In 2013 I think idolatry looks like wonton consumerism and apathetic citizenship. We have put a lot of reliance on mortal flesh—give me this, do this, solve this, make this easy for me, don’t make me think. When the people, companies and governments we assume will provide for us and meet our needs do not or cannot, certainly we are anxious in the year of the drought. Surely this recession has illustrated that lesson.

My business partner often references an aphorism is Lebanese father said frequently, “trust in Allah, but tie your camel.” Personal responsibility is a component of faith—“the fruit of our deeds,” whereas “reliance on mortal flesh” is a sure way to be left wounded, scared, and confused when people don’t provide you with all you expected. The challenge is recognizing the difference.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

Imagine a mountainous buffet of ice cream, cookies, blintzes, cheesecake and pie. Imagine dozens of people sitting around, slamming coffee, cola and energy drinks, feverously debating Jewish law, telling fantastical stories from the Torah and Talmud, breaking into discussions about contemporary issues like Israel and the state of Jews around the world.

Imagine yourself there.

Interested? Then keep reading.

The newest book from the PunkTorah family, The Ultimate Shavuot guide is an epic collection of spiritual essays, easy to use rituals, and of course, delicious recipes (because what Jewish book DOESN’T have food???) In typical PunkTorah fashion, we wanted Shavuot to be accessible to everyone. Dairy recipes are the custom, but of course, we have plenty of vegan Shavuot recipes as well. Don’t know Hebrew? Don’t worry — the blessings are transliterated.

Download your copy by joining the PunkTorah email list

Already on the email list? Then the book is in your email inbox.

Still haven’t received it or having trouble downloading? Email us.

And please, give a donation to PunkTorah to support all of our hard work, including these awesome books.

Harvard http://www.businessinsider.com/grant-study-reveals-what-makes-us-happy-2013-4 spent seventy five years to find out what makes a happy life. It’s one of the longest-running studies on human development, and recently, George Vaillant, who directed the study for over thirty of the seventy five years, published Triumphs of Experience, a summary of everything researchers learned in the study.

Some of it is obvious: alcoholism is bad (mmmmkay), being a genius doesn’t make you happy, and having a warm childhood relationship with your mom and dad is going to help you in the long run.

For all the quirky, funny things the study looked into (example: your politics has nothing to do with your happiness), the thing the study overwhelmingly proved is that relationships matter. The warmth and depth of your relationships correlates with your happiness. The more fulfilling your relationships with others, the more fulfilling your life will be.

Life is a journey. And the best journeys we go on are the ones with our friends. Judaism, through the study of the Torah, gives us a weekly journey with our friends the Jewish people, and with the personalities of the matriarchs, patriarchs and prophets.

Hope the double portion of Parshah Behar-Bechukotai provides you a warm, fun relationship with Judaism and your Jewish journey.

Dominion, Heads or Tails and Taxes – Circle Pit the Bimah
http://punktorah.org/cptb-split-ep-vol-4-behar-and-bechukotai/

Portlandia Judaism
http://punktorah.org/portlandia-and-the-jewish-obession-with-organic-farming-parshat-behar/

Richard Dawkins and the Number Seven
http://punktorah.org/richard-dawkins-gardening-and-the-number-seven-parshat-behar-bechukotai/

In this week’s haftorah, some of the many (and I do mean many) specifications of the rights and
responsibilities of the kohanim are iterated in painstaking detail from how they shall dress in the
Temple, to whom they may marry (sorry, no divorcees), to personal care rituals like when and how
much they must trim their hair.

So who exactly are these special class of priests to whom all of these particulars apply? The lexicon gets
tricky because the Hebrew word, represented as kohain or kohen, just means “priest” and is used in
reference to both Jewish and non-Jewish priests. The Koanim referenced in the haftorah, however, are
not just Jewish priests, but those believed to be directly decendant from Aaron (Moses’ brother) and
who have special roles in the Temple. So for extra priesty priests, we’ll use Kohanim (with a capital K)
and for just regular priests, kohanim, no capital. Clear as mud? Let’s continue.

King David assigned 24 priestly clans of 6 priestly families per each group—each group served Temple
watch one week, each family serving a day, and the whole group of six coming to the Temple on
Shabbat. During festivals, all 24 groups (144 families!) were on duty at the Temple.

Since Aaron hails from the Tribe of Levi, all priests are Levites, but not all Levites are priests. Even
though Jewish heritage is matrilineal (i.e. if your mother was Jewish, you’re Jewish) the Kohanim are
specifically patrilineal descendants from Aaron (and so you were excluded if your branch of the family
tree came from Levi, son of Jacob, but not from Aaron). The Levites served other roles around the
Temple, but certain rituals were specifically iterated for Kohanim only.

After the Second Temple is destroyed, the Talmud suggests descendants of each of the 24 clans
established a separate residential seat in each town of Galilee, and did so for centuries in anticipation
of the next Temple and the resuming of the weekly watch cycles. Now that we’re no longer doing
the sacrificial services which required their formal role, only some special roles are still maintained
in Orthodoxy (and some Conservative communities) though not, generally, in Reform Judaism. In
Orthodox customs, a Kohen is called for the first aliyah, a Levite the second, and any other Tribe the
last; or if you don’t happen to have a Kohen handy, a Levite takes the first as “aliyah bimkom Kohen” (in
place of a Kohen), but the whole Kohens-read-first rule is tradition and not part of the Jewish law.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

If you’re like me, then you have the attention span of a dancing peanut.

If you’re not like me, then why the heck are you reading this blog post?

Just kidding.

Anyway, my attention span is less-than-great. Baruch Hashem for YouTube! It’s where I do a great bit of my learning. And heck, it’s how PunkTorah got started.

There is a renaissance of Parshah Emor videos on YouTube. So check them out!

Parshah Emor and Nick’s Crusade: How A Handicapped Guy Blew My Mind (PunkTorah TV)

If Moses Was So Great, How Come He Could Barely Speak? (PunkTorah TV)

Parshat Emor: Your Exclusive Social Event Calendar of the Year (G-dCast)

In Acharei, hangin’ out with the heathen hoards runs the people afoul in this week’s haftorah, a similar theme to the parsha as a whole, during which the people are warned against bringing animal offerings anywhere but in the Temple, the consumption of blood, and enumerates a number of forbidden interpersonal relations. Amos delivers the warning that the Northern kingdom of Israel is doomed for destruction, but that eventually, the Jewish people will be redeemed and “mountains shall drip sweet wine” and that the people will be allowed to return to the desolate cities.
Similarly, in Kedoshim, through Ezekiel, the people are chastised for not keeping Shabbat holy and again, seem to have a recurring problem with idol worship.

It’s difficult indeed to keep one’s bearings when examining the haftorah, and this week’s pairings illustrate that beautifully. Because the portions were chosen to correspond with the general theme of the parshot, rather than the timeline, each week seems to skip around aimlessly. For example, in Acharei, we’re hearing from Amos, whose prophetic career was short, about 750 BCE to his estimated death of 745 BCE, a mere 5 years. He was a sheep heardsman and fig farmer—not from the priestly class.

To the extent that common folks had an idea about what was going on in the world around them—life must have seemed terribly tumultuous. We already can glean the frequency with which wars were raged and kingdoms usurped in this time period. Assyria pretty much becomes a ruling power of the region—reigning over the Near East, Asia Minor, North Africa and a good chunk of the Mediterranean (the Greek city-states would be taking over much of the rest, soon if not already.) The polytheistic religions dominated this region for thousands of years, so for the tiny outpost of Judah, which was frequently sacked, conquered, and re-sacked, that any Jews survived wave upon wave of ruler was quite miraculous indeed—and for an underdog of a religion (one G-d to more than 2,100 recorded Mesopotamian deities) creating a real separation between Jews and the assaulting heathen hoards was a pretty significant priority, which needed constant re-affirmation.

More than 150 years later would put us squarely in the career of Ezekiel, who by contrast to Amos, was one of about 3,000 upper class Jews in exile in Babylonia, and was born to a priestly class and specifically trained for his prophetic career. The battle against polytheism is still raging—as are the physical wars; Jerusalem falls to Babylonia in 587 BCE. The Greeks are in full-swing, culturally speaking, and the Persian Empire is about to burst onto the scene—both of whom will have altercations with the Tribes.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

I get a gnawing sense that when I talk about God, my secular Jewish friends hear, “la la la la la la la la”. When I read atheist blogs, or comments on religious Facebook posts, I see this wild disconnect between what people of faith mean by God, and what atheist think we mean about God.

To put it simply: a believer talks about believing in apples, and a non-believer sets out to argue that oranges are just as foolish as a flying spaghetti monster. And just like my strange metaphor, the whole darn thing becomes a mess.

The problem is really two-fold.

When believers talk about God, they use the poetic, artistic, emotional language of scripture…and that’s a problem for Secular Jews.

Believers talk about “feeling God” or “having a sense of God”. The way people talk about God is the same way that musicians talk about playing guitar, or that nerds talk about the new Star Wars movies, or that any sane person talks about Chuck Norris.

That doesn’t line up well with the empirical, scientific method, and so for non-believers, it just doesn’t work. And rightly so.

Proving the existence of God is like trying to prove that Eric Clapton sucks. There’s no way to measure Eric Clapton scientifically against, say, Black Flag, but on a certain level…yeah…Eric Clapton just isn’t that cool.

It’s emotional. It’s subjective. But it’s also very real. Like love, and hate.

On the other hand, believers can be pretty bad communicators.

When we hear about something like the God Particle (which is neither God, nor much of a particle), we start blabbing on and on about how finally, those moron scientists understand what we have been talking about this entire time! Reality check: we were never talking about science. But science is real, and to us, God is real. So we jump the shark and start flame wars on Facebook. We can’t help ourselves. Our passion makes us do really silly things.

So when I talk about God here at PunkTorah, OneShul or elsewhere, here’s what I’m personally talking about. This is The-God-Of-My-Understanding.

God means…

Consistency

Our universe is ruled by some pretty basic rules. Throw a ball in the air, and it’s going to come back down. It’s simple really.

And yet, it’s not, if we read about quantum mechanics.

Sure, ball goes up and comes back down. So never mind the fact that the ball may not actually exist, or that the very act of viewing the ball may be the reason why it fell, or that the ball may exist as potential balls in multiple universes all at once.

It appears like we have a rational, no-nonsense universe, that is built on some wild, inconsistent, bizarre-o land of rules that make no sense. Yet, the darn ball still falls when you throw it up in the air.

God, through the consistency of the laws of nature, keeps faith with us that reality is real, that we can know reality, and that by having a universe that appears silent to us, we are actually better off. Like children, we crave consistency. And God gives it to us. So the Bible reads, “your faithfulness continues to all generations; you established the earth, and it stands” (Psalm 119:89-90).

Eternity

The universe does not waste anything, or anyone. The same stuff that made up the Big Bang makes up who you are. God does not discard anything.

We used to believe that if you burned paper, it simply went away and was never more. Now, we know that a burned piece of paper still exists, albeit in a new way: as ash, as the chemicals released in the air, as the transference of heat energy. While the paper as we understood it is gone, the fundamentals of the paper are still there. They simply become something else.

Human beings have mastered resurrection through legacy. Through our impact on people when we are alive, we have the ability to live eternally. We still read books by people who lived hundreds and thousands of years ago. Like the piece of paper, their consciousness never went away — it just became something else, something that lasts into eternity.

If a piece of paper never goes away, then I have to believe that human beings do not, either.

Even the intangible never goes away. Love is the greatest of eternity’s blessings. Today, you are alive because someone loved you. And they were alive because someone loved them. There is a chain that goes back to the beginning of time: and love is what it is all rooted in. We may die, but the love that was given to us, and that we give to others, never goes away. “I have loved you with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn you” (Jeremiah 31:2).

Creativity

Living in a reality where things remain consistant and constant is pretty cool. When I step out my door, I don’t have to worry that the laws of gravity are going to cease to exist, and that I am going to float off in the sky.

And because I live in the modern world, much of what I need is readily available to me.

That gives me a lot of free time to pursue the creative. And that’s another place where I believe God rests.

When we think of the Garden of Eden story, we tend to think of a place that is wild, with two wild humans laying around in luxury eating, sleeping and playing naked without a care in the world.

But really, the Garden of Eden was work. Adam (a Hebrew metaphor meaning “humanity”) was commanded to work this garden as the steward of it (Genesis 2:15). Gardens, back in the old days, were not the wildflower front lawns of hippies with gnomes and Buddha statues. They were orderly. God’s world is orderly, at least according to the Book of Genesis, and humanity is tasked with continuing that order.

It begs the question: what did God want the Garden of Eden to look like? I would suggest that God was leaving that up to Adam to figure out. Adam was given the tools to do the job, but his vision of the garden was up to him. No rule book: just some seeds, some dirt, some trees, and the responsibility to make it pleasing to God.

Creativity is not an empty vacuum. The color of paint is pre-determined, until we mix the paints together to reflect our own design. A musical instrument is already assembled, until we figure out cool, new ways to make sounds out of it. The stuff we need is already there, like the Garden of Eden. It’s our responsibility, from God, to take the stuff and turn it into something that is sacred.

So there you go. When I say God, I’m talking about Consistency, Eternity and Creativity.

What do you think?

This piece was written by Patrick Aleph, founder and Executive Director of PunkTorah. He’s addicted to coffee, tattoos and loud garage rock. Friend him on Facebook.

The Truth About…’s/Flickr Creative Commons

There’s some cool stuff in here (not hurting your neighbor), some not-so-good-stuff (the whole homosexuality bit), and some downright odd stuff, like the prohibition against shatnez. No matter where you find yourself on the spectrum of Jewish identity, Acharei Kedoshim is going to speak to you in some way or another.

Holiness might not be a gay Buddhist in blue jeans

Weird sex stuff (PunkTorah TV)

Circle Pit the Bimah: Double Portion Split EP

Haftarah Tazria – Metzora

This week has double haftorah portions. In Tazria, General Naaman of King Aram’s army becomes
afflicted with tzara’at. A captive Israelite maid advises him to seek out the prophet Elisha in Samaria.
King Aram sends word to the King of Israel that Aram is on his way to be treated—this is not a friendly
message, but almost a threat; as in “treat my general…or else.” Elisha instructs Naaman to immerse
himself in the River Jordan, and though the general is deeply distrusting of this whole situation, he
finally does so, and is indeed cured. Naaman, in his gratitude, promptly promises not to serve any deity
besides Elisha’s G-d.

Of interest here, Naaman doesn’t convert per se–though he commits to allegiance to monotheism,
he isn’t trying to become Jewish out of gratitude. But this is perfectly acceptable, because we’re
led to believe he is agreeing to ascribe to the Seven Noahide Laws—which is pretty much the basic
prerequisite for being a decent, civilized human being, as far as we’re concerned. This is significant,
because as Jews, we don’t subscribe to the notion that everyone simply must be Jewish to have a place
in the yet described “world to come.” We can regard people as righteous, and part of that world to
come, without being part of the Tribe—a stark contrast to most other monotheistic religions which
pretty much insist that you achieve full-blown conversion… or else.

In Metzora, we open at a scene during one of the many sieges of Samaria by the armies of King Ben-
Hadad for Aram during a seven-year drought and subsequent catastrophic famine that had reduced
many to cannibalism and all sorts of incivilities. In the heat of this mess, King Jehoram of Israel is
threatening to kill Elisha for the kingdom’s predicament, when he promises that by the day’s end food
will be abundant. Meanwhile, quarantined outside the city, four men stricken with tzara’at hedge their
bets in going over to the Aramean encampment to beg for food, but when they get there, they discover
the Arameans have inexplicably split (we are told they were made to hear a great ruckus of chariots
and horses, and believing to be outnumbered by the Hittite or Egyptian army has been hired by the
beleaguered Israelites, and flee.) They return with the news, which the King fears is a trap; though to
Elisha’s foretelling, the people flood the deserted encampment finally getting access to food and clean
clothing.

Tzara’a appears in both portions, and in various uses in the Torah, refers to a blighted condition that
afflicts both people and object, such as clothing or houses. Linguistically, the root may mean “smiting”
which explains how what seems like a disease, particularly of the skin, could also affect inanimate
objects. “Lepra” is the translation of the Hebrew word used in the Septuagint– the Torah translation
used by Greek-speaking Jews—is the origin of leprosy which appears in later English versions. So where
it seems that people “back in the day” were all kinds of crawling with leprosy—it’s largely because this
term covered many possible skin-related diseases, from common dermatitis, to fungal infections to
bacterial infections, like actual leprosy.

Here’s why…

Too busy to watch an 8 minute video? Here’s the bottom line:

Conversion costs money. If you meet with a rabbi for ten hours over the course of your conversion, and the rabbi makes an average of $40/hr, then you’re conversion “cost” $400. This does not include any books you received or other materials. Also, this only pays for the rabbi‘s time you directly needed. This does not include the cost of the shul or his/her office, keeping the lights on, etc.

Who should pay? Weddings, funerals, bar/bat mitzvah training, bikkur cholim (visiting the sick), counseling, dvrei Torah preparation, teen events, adult classes, a building fund, social events, prayer services, and everything else in Jewish life costs a BOAT TON of money. And because people believe more and more that Jewish life should cost less and less, the burden of funding Jewish life goes to the “user”, meaning that if you use a rabbi‘s time, for any reason, you have to pay for it.

There’s no funding for conversion outreach. Because Judaism doesn’t evangelize, there are no funds for conversion outreach. While there may be free High Holidays tickets, spare funeral plots for poor families, and scholarships for Jewish camp, there are no funds set aside specifically for conversion. Since large donations are usually given with strings attached (example: this donation is for the building, for youth groups, etc.), even if a shul has a billion dollars in reserve funds for new carpet, they can’t just take that money and donate it to the Conversion Fund. Got it?

We could resolve this issue easily with a few changes. First, a reserve fund for conversion, so that converts don’t have to pay or would pay very little. Second, lowering the overall cost of all things Jewish (including the cost of rabbis), so that more people would be paying less. Third, we could begin charging for things that the Jewish community never charged for in the past, like kosher food banks, Shabbat services, megillah readings, etc. But that’s a terrible idea. Finally, utilizing the internet for Jewish education would make conversion more accessible to more people, thus lowering the overall cost.

But sometimes the Torah doesn’t do us any favors in the censorship department. The Bible is filled with sex, violence, and in the case of Tazria-Metzora, a whole lotta bodily fluid.

And now my friends, the part about menstrual blood!

This is a great thing. When we sanitize the Bible, we leave out the facts of life that everyone needs to know. War is a real life issue. So is puberty. And guess what: itchy rashes are a part of life, too. When we make the Bible nothing but children’s stories and fairy tales instead of life lessons, then we diminish the value of our faith.

So this week’s readings are gross. Well, life is gross. Deal with it. And on a side note, if you do believe you suffer from tzaraat, a skin disease that comes from gossip, then stop talking smack…and get some ointment.

This week’s featured articles on Tazria Metzorah

Babies and Desert Zombies by Circle Pit the Bimah

Periods, blood and puss by PunkTorah TV

Those crazy kids at Wikipedia do a great job with this week’s Torah portion (Wikipedia)

Shemini

In this week’s haftorah, the Ark of the Covenant, which had been stored at the house of Avinadar since the destruction of the tabernacle in Shiloh, is transported to Jerusalem at the behest of King David, amidst a convoy of dancing and singing. Uzzah is struck dead when he touches the Ark; his fatal mistake was to reach out and steady the Ark as the oxen carrying it mistepped.

If you’re like me, you’re picturing the scene in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark where the Nazis are all vapourized by the power of the Ark of the Covenant. “Nazis… I hate those guys.”

But Uzza isn’t a Nazi, and his transgression—steadying a holy object to prevent it from unceremoniously tumbling to the ground—doesn’t seem worthy of being vapourized.

A footnote to the haftorah, suggests that the “deisrespect” of touching the Ark came from a mere mortal intrinically feeling that the Ark required his assistance. Previously, the Torah describes the Ark as “carrying its carriers.”

Yet it begs the question, how did the people pack it up on the oxen in the first place without touching it? Other stories surround the Ark, which is wrought with all kinds of interesting folklore, suggests that although it had been used as a weapon to blast enemies, often the Israelites were accidentally vanquished by its powers.

So what else are we told about the Ark? It was said to be made of gilt acacia wood, adorned with two cherubim standing with wings covering an area atop the Ark known as the “Mercy Seat.” Of interest, cherubim in Hebrew usages tends to refer to winged lions (think, for example, the current Israeli heraldage), and then at some point during Christian accounts, they switch the imagry to winged human-like angels.

The Ark was built to house three sacred artifacts—the two stone tablets upon which Moses inscribed the Ten Commandemnts, the rod of Aaron, and a golden pot of manna, which sustained the Israelites during their decades of desert wandering.

According to the book of Samuel, Philistines captured the Ark and paraded it around, which struck town after town with plague until a soothsayer reccommended it be sent back to Cannan. The Ark appers to disappear from the Temple sometime around the Babylonian invasion of Jerusalem in 586 BCE.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

Anyway.

Instead, we’re going to do the dvrei Torah as a roundup of our favorite videos, articles, podcasts and more. Of course, nepotism pays, so most of this will come from PunkTorah. But we’re also gonna give love to people throughout the web that are doing cool Hebrew Bible projects.

So here it goes: Parshah Shemini

Shemini teaches us how not to live in the wilderness but we have to choose to make that break and enter into a promised life. Circle Pit the Bimah

A musical in two acts, this week’s G-dcast is so catchy that you’ll be singing it in the shower for the rest of the year. G-dCast

Eco Kashrut and a journey down memory lane as Patrick Aleph waxes poetic in his old front yard. PunkTorah TV

Keepin’ it real, yo. PunkTorah TV

Thank you to everyone who donated to our 2013 Passover Fundraiser! We are thrilled to announce that we raised a grand total of $11,845.88!

But we still have a long way to go.

Our goal is to raise $18,000.00. This will allow us to expand the number of books, articles, videos and podcasts that PunkTorah provides. We’ll also be able to do some awesome tech upgrades to OneShul as well as work on a top-secret-project hopefully launching this September.

To help out, click the enormous banner on the top of the PunkTorah website.

Hope everyone had a rad Passover and is tossing back pizza and beer like there’s no tomorrow!

Warmly,

Patrick Aleph + The Team at PunkTorah

Hi guys! Did you miss me as much as I missed you? I bet you did.

This being my first real life Passover, I wanted it to be killer rad. Like every other holiday I’ve tried to make special, something weird happened in my life that’s forced me to re-evaluate the approach I wanted to take on said special day. This time it was school, teething babies, and blah blah blah. Life guys, it gets in the way of all the fun stuff huh?

I didn’t want to fully disappoint you all though, so I got to thinking. What makes Passover awesome? Well other than all the obvious things, it’s probably Matzah. Right? No. Well, I think it’s kind of cool, and I couldn’t be FULLY alone, because here in this lovely post I’ve put together a whole bunch of random things people put matzah on and sold to other people. Maybe it’s offensive, maybe it’s just tacky, or maybe you just think it’s really hilarious, it’s all right here. And if anything, it’s good for a late hostess gift am I right?

1. Look at this bag. First three adjectives I think of? Classy. Elegant. Glamour. Well.. not really. But it makes you laugh. Or at least it made me chuckle a little. I mean come on guys, it’s a bag, and it’s silly.
2. This pouch! What can’t you do with it? You can store things! You can hold things! You can place it places! Multifunctional is what it is. And necessary for the person on the go! Can you go wrong with buying this for someone? No. You really can’t.
3. The buttons? I mean come on. Everyone needs and wants some sort of “Keep Calm” slogan in their life. It’s in no way a phrase that is well past it’s 15 minutes or anything! Well anyways, it’s cute.
4. These ear rings? I own 12 pairs. Or I would if I was as awesome as I want to be. You know how sometimes people wear annoying things on their ears and you just want to pull them off sometimes? Yeah, these are in no way like that. They’re just exquisite.
5. Now dogs like Passover too ya’ll. Why shouldn’t they get in on the fun? I mean, nothing says I’m here to party like a Matzah collar for your pooch. I mean, how can I even try to sell you on this being a good idea for a present? It kind of speaks for its self. Am I right?

1. Baby shirts with funny sayings on them never go out of style. Trust me. They’re going to be around as long as neon colored Crocs. FOREVER! Why not let your favorite little person get in on the fun too?
2. Babies, or at least babies I have, don’t like wearing things on their heads. Kippah‘s aren’t any exception. Maybe if it was Matzah related you can barging with the toddler you’re wanting to look adorable. And if not, then well you can just keep it for next year.
3. A 1st onesie?? Oh boy! Honestly? I do like this one. It’ll be my little guy’s first Passover, and he’s awesome so pshh it’s perfect.
4. The only other thing cuter than a funny saying shirt, is the tie shirt. Don’t tell me you don’t squee a little on the inside when you see a little dude in one, because you know you do. They may be a little one sided-but honestly a little girl in a tie with a big old bow on her head would be stinking cute too. AWW!!
5. Bibs? Every parent lies to themselves and says “Oh y kid doesn’t need one” or maybe it’s just me. Either way, most kids look lame in them, and this is a great way to change that.

1. Who in the world doesn’t need a new iPhone case for every month of the year? I do. I have like a good 5 that I rotate every other week. And unlike most of the joke’s I’ve made on here today, that’s true. If I had this one? BOY HOWDY I’d be the coolest kid on the block!
2. This shirt is just classic. Hilarious. AND NEON! Do yourself a favor and get like 8 of them so you don’t have to run out when you spill wine on yourself during Seder.
3. A towel? With a pun! OY! SIGN ME UP FOR ALL THE TOWELS!!
4. Now, this pin isn’t like the other pin earlier. It’s square, and square pins are in right now. Don’t believe me? Just look in any fashion magazine. I’m sure you’ll see one…….somewhere.
5.This hoodie. I might actually get this guy. Passover here is going to be super cold, and will ruin all my cute little outfit ideas. This might help me out a little, and it’s hilarious.

Now, I hope I helped you out on your matzah fix. I also hope you laughed a little. I know I did.

Jacqueline D. is a 20something “stupid new converting noob”, who likes comic books, nail polish, and will be your best friend if you buy her a slushy. Most of her life is spent over at Mother Mopher where she blogs sometimes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=029__uuKYBI

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MMM9iiskhw4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPK8StycUjw

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHTvqY3DCQY

Meet our new volunteer Aiden.

Aiden is an almost 9 years old boy with high functioning autism.

Aiden’s mom is a member of the OneShul community, and asked Aiden if he would like to contribute to our Passover section at PunkTorah. So Aiden, Mr. Craftsman Extraordinaire, built us the Exodus narrative…out of Star Wars legos.

The Hebrews building the pyramids

Baby Moses

Moses going before Pharaoh

Aiden’s mom sent us a message:

“Aiden has so many wonderful questions and says he is amazed he is part of something so awesome.”

Aiden, thank YOU for being so awesome!

Sincerely,

Yours friends at PunkTorah

I know you believe in the importance of Jewish community, and in supporting people in their Jewish identity.

By giving to PunkTorah, you are giving Jewish life to over 100,000 people every year.

Fact: PunkTorah/OneShul is the only social network dedicated to independent Jewish spirituality

Fact: Our resources bring Judaism and Jewish community to people who would otherwise not have it

Fact: PunkTorah sustains itself almost entirely on donations from community members like you

Our vast network of online entry points into the Jewish experience include Jewish eBooks, podcasts, over 700 YouTube videos, our online synagogue, kosher recipes, articles, and our newest Jewish kids blog. Because of your generous contributions, these resources are available at no cost.

We receive countless emails and Facebook messages thanking us for providing Judaism to people all over the globe, and inspiring people to live Jewish lives. It is because of your donations that Judaism inspires and enriches peoples lives, often for the first time.

And because we are a dynamic, open, inclusive community, PunkTorah is thrilled to be a go-to resource for the LGBT Jewish community, Jews of color, Jews by choice and anyone who feels like they don’t fit into a perfect little box. Thank you for making that possible.

Donate today by clicking this link. Remember, your support matters, because YOU matter.

Warmly,

Patrick Aleph and the community at PunkTorah

The year: 1999. The place: Beth Shalom Congregation, Elkins Park, PA, event hall. The room is full of about 150 elementary school students, sitting around round tables laden with plastic plates, wine cups we made ourselves, all fidgeting in our new Passover clothes. At the front of the room, aloft a podium, is Dr. Steven Brown, our headmaster. And he is wearing the silliest hats we’ve ever seen in our young lives.

For each of the 15 parts of the Passover seder, Dr. Brown changes his hat. We sing “Kadesh, oorchatz, karpas…” and are halted as the eldest students who’ve been to many a Model Seder at the Perelman Jewish Day School know, scream “AHA!” and we stop, to study, and observe the rituals of that part of the seder. So, we dip our celery painstakingly cut by parents into salt water, and resume, as Dr. Brown changes his hat with a flourish. “Kadesh, oorchatz, karpas, yachatz…AHHHH!”

The songs, games, and inside jokes cultivated at Passover seders can make the celebration come alive for children and guests of every age. Here are a few ideas, pointers, and resources–it’s not too late to incorporate them into your seder plans!

• The Seder (order) Song, as previously described in 1999. Learn a version here. My mother created cue cards, and presents them with glee, doing her best Vanna White presentation

• Plague Props. The 10 Plagues are visited upon the Egyptian people, while the Israelites are unharmed. This is a serious lesson that results in the seder pouring out some amount of wine for each plague, or whispering the plagues, or covering their ears to not hear the curses that befell the Egyptian people. It’s a great time to discuss bystanders–were all Egyptians responsible for slavery? Why were they punished for Pharoah’s hard heart? What could the plagues have inspired the Egyptian civilians to do? What should we do if we disagree with our governmental leaders? It’s a serious part of the story, and is so easy to get silly during a part of the story in which serious pain is visited upon our captors. Once that tone is established, though, there are some really fun ways to represent the plagues. How can we do so respectfully? I have no answers.

Here are some suggestions for how to represent each plague:

1. Blood: get a small jar and fill it with water, oil, and food coloring. Shake it to turn the water into blood at the appropriate time!

2. Frogs: Origami frogs! Have your older kids fold them as they arrive to the seder. Instructions here.

3. Gnats: Fly swatter.

4. Wild animals: Stuffed lions, tigers, bears. Or get some animal masks. “RAWR!”

5. Pestilence: If you’re wearing a mask, fall down dead! Or, tape some black “X” marks over the eyes of your animals.

6. Boils: Put on some bandaids. “Don’t pick!”

7. Hail: Cotton balls. Throw willy-nilly.

8. Locusts: Provide stalks of kale, rosemary, or other veggies that you can quickly strip all the plant off of. When it comes to the locust plague, hold up a stalk and run your hand down the middle, to represent how locusts so quickly strip crops bare! Or, if that’s not your bag, get up and hop around!

9. Darkness: Turn off the lights in the room, or give out small flashlights. If you don’t use electricity on yom tov, use blindfolds.

10. Death of the Firstborn: Forgo a prop here. Time for some real-talk. (If you have kids that fixate on continuity, and who can blame them, get some cocktail drink swords.)

Aish has a really cute idea about draping curtains to cross the Sea of Reeds, and some additional ideas about plague bags!

• Sing it out! Not all of your guests will know the Passover songs in Hebrew. Try some of these parodies of popular songs in English! This was one of my proudest moments hosting a seder with guests of all religious/practice/experience. We could all sing along. Read the whole Haggadah I compiled here, and sing the songs on page 28. Here’s one:

Take Us Out of Mitzrayim

(Sung to the tune of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”)

Take us out of Mitzrayim,

Free us from slavery,

Bake us some matzah in a haste

Don’t worry ‘bout flavor,

Give no thought to taste.

Oh it’s rush, rush, rush to the Red Sea

If we don’t cross it’s shame,

For it’s ten plagues,

Down and you’re out

At the Pesach history game!

• Little Known Heroes of the Passover Story If you have gregarious, older kids, have them research Miriam, Nachshon, Shifra and Puah, Bat Paroh! Have them host a talk show during the Magid, storytelling, section of the Seder!

• Magid: Passover Variety Show Style Guests of all ages can be included in creative storytelling. Giving documents (primary, secondary, creative, historical, ritual) to guests with 15 minutes to study and create a song, skit, poem, or piece of art to share can liven up the traditionally longest part of the seder

JTS did an hour long session on engaging kids in the Passover seder! Watch it below, and check out the resources sheet they provided here.

A Tale of Two Seders by Mindy Avra Portnoy
Illustrated by Valeria Cis

Passover is a time for families to get together, spend time together and celebrate. But what do you do if your parents aren’t together? And in fact have been divorced for three years as the little girl in A Tale of Two Seders are. When the little girl was seven she spent Passover with her Dad and his friends and her little dog Ollie. And the next night she spent it with her Mom and her friends. When the little girl was seven she spent the first night of Passover with her Mom and friends and the second night with her Dad and friends.

Now that the girl is nine she wants things to be a bit different this year. But she still spends the first night of Passover with her Dad. The second night however is a surprise. The girl goes to Temple with her mom and who is there too? Read this wonderfully told tale by Mindy Avra Portnoy and illustrated by Valeria Cis to find out who and not only that, but how families are like charoset! After reading this tale you’ll want to try all four of the Charost Recipes in the back of the book.

Sweet Passover by Leslea Newman
Illustrated by David Slonim

Miriam is a little girl who loves Matzah! She eats it every day of Passover with her Grandpa, Grandma, Aunt, Uncle, Mom and Dad, but by the eighth and final day of Passover Miriam is sick of Matzah and craves bagels, doughnuts and toast. Miriam’s Grandpa asks her if she wants French toast for breakfast, at first she does, until she finds out it won’t be made with bread and its really matzah brei.

After the family devours the matzah brei, Miriam’s stomach lets out a loud growl. Her family explains to her why Matzah is eaten during Passover. Miriam thinks it over and…well read the book to see if Miriam decides to take back her declaration that she will never eat Matzah again!

Book reviews by writer Tamara Levine. For more book reviews, check out our Jewish Kids archive.

WOW…we are just SLAMMED over here in PunkTorah land. Circle Pit the Bimah was just released, and our vegan cookbook is flying off the virtual shelves for Passover (that’s what happens when you give something away for free). Not to mention two local grants we have received (more details to come) and a host of other exciting adventures that await us.

Problem is, that doesn’t leave a lot of time for Torah Video Mashup. At least not this week. So instead, we’re going all retro-rewind style with this old dvar Torah from back in the good old days.

So here’s the deal: if you consider yourself creative, love YouTube and want to volunteer at PunkTorah, consider becoming our Torah Video Mashup extraordinaire. You write the script, pick the videos from around the intertubes that best relates to the weekly Torah portion, and either you edit them together or give it to us to edit. Your choice.

To volunteer, email Patrick.

The original Judaism was pay to play. And with Nirvana’s song Pay To Play, we hope you’ll learn more about why giving your time and financial resources to your favorite Jewish cause…is…well…pretty holy!

Feeling inspired? Click here to donate to PunkTorah.

Got no money, but got the time? Email us to volunteer.

My teacher, Jill Hammer, posits that Passover is an initiation ritual. A ritual where we, as individuals are initiated into a tribe year after year, century after century, millennia after millenia. Really Passover is part of an extremely long initiation ritual that begins the night before Passover and ends at Shavuot — where we are transformed by accepting the Mitzvot and the relationship with the Holy One.

This long transformative period begins at the first of Nisan, which is know as the New Year of Kings. This is one of the four new years known on the Jewish calendar. It is the marker in time where we turn our thoughts to recommitting ourselves to the Holy One individually, but more importantly as a nation of people. To be a “king” you cannot just have an individual bound to you, but a full nation of people.

Most Passover seders are fun, family events that are not really rituals with a true transformative power anymore. That’s really okay for most, who aren’t even engaged with being Jewish on a daily basis. Just this act of engaging with the seder each year, really does its job in helping people, in some way, recommit to what it means to be a part of the Jewish people each year. While on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we think about what it means to us personally to be Jewish, this is the time of year when we grapple with “peoplehood” and being a part of the Tribe.

As you prepare for your Passover seder this year, think about the experience as a chance to recommit to your tribe — whether that be the Jewish people or the people at your seder. Who is it that sits with you at your seder and why are they there? Why did you invite them? Why did they accept? What is it that binds you together and what larger groups are you associated with? If your seder is comprised of all Jews, then really use the experience to explore what it means to be a part of the Jewish people and how that manifests in your lives. If your seder is an inter-faith experience — well — use what the experience means to you be both a part of the Jewish tribe and a part of this tribe. What does “the tribe” mean to your personal tribe?

Passover is really just a first step, it’s the feast before the trek through the wilderness of the Omer that leads us to the holy mountain and the Holy One at Shavuot. All classical initiation rituals have three parts: separation, transition, and re-integration. Passover includes all of these elements and also acts as the first step (separation) in the long cycle of Pesach-Omer-Shavuot. Whatever your understanding of the Tribe, take a moment this Passover to really allow yourself to experience the potential power of this ritual. Don’t just go through the motions; explore the ties that bind you to your tribe and your tribe together. Use that exploration to choose your Haggadah, special readings, your guest list, your menu, etc. Maybe even begin your seder by expressly stating your intention around the experience — why is this night different than all other nights?

Pesach is when we were born as a people. Each year, we are reborn as we tell the story. Each year you (we) have a chance to re-becoming a people and to commit to stake a claim as a tribe, a people, and a nation. Thankfully Judaism is not just one tribe — it is made up of at least twelve tribes bound together as a larger nation. That means the personal tribe at your seder is, and can be, part of “the people.” So who are you? What is your banner? What do you stand for? How does this fit into the larger identity of the “People of the Book”or the “People of the Land,” or the “People of the Book of the Land?”

This year, don’t just go through the motions. Make it more than just about a good party and a nice meal. Take it one step further and really have an intention (kavanah) for your seder and how it helps you and your guests connect to the notion of tribe, people, and nation.

I Kings 7:13-26.

This week we backtrack to the construction details for the first Holy Temple–reminding us that the haftorah portions were often chosen to parallel the accompanying parshot rather than progress sequentially.

Haftarah for Terumah.

While we’re in the midst of construction, King Solomon calls for an expert coppersmith, Hiram of Tyre, to create copper columns for the doorway to the Temple; these were to be capped with intricate carvings of pomegranates and palm leaves. The right column was named Jachin; the left Boaz. Hiram was also to build a giant copper basin, sanding on 12 oxen statuary, three pointed in each direction, to be used as a mikvah for the priests.

The size of these massive columns were about 6-feet thick by 27-feet tall, and hollow, (four “fingers” thick) with 8-foot capitals, featuring brass lilies. Interestingly, despite that these giant columns, which would have been very much a “big deal” in construction and ornamentation, the reasoning for the names is not entirely clear. Some theories suggest the inscription as possibly an acronym, the names of an architect, donors, or sons of Solomon. The words themselves, yakhin, has a conventional interpretation as “he shall establish” and bo’az “in it is strength.”

The columns seem to be purely ornamental, not structural, or “pillars of witness,” perhaps witness to the contract between Jacob and Laban.

According to some reports, upon the destruction of the temple, the metal from the columns was broken up and sent to Babylon (recall that the temple was purportedly sacked by Nebuchadnezzer II). In the prophetic Third Temple, similar columns are made simply of wood.

The infamous debate over the legitimacy of the Ivory (actually, hippopotamus bone) Pomegranate found at the Temple Mount stems from this scripture. Some claim that this is archaeological evidence of Solomon’s Temple; others claim that the inscription, in paleo-Hebrew, is a forgery. Even with special committees, a swarm of scientists, and microscopic evaluation, the mystery has not been resolved. Yet even if not a forgery, it’s not conclusive whether it was necessarily an ornamentation of the Temple—pomegranates were popular ritual objects, and the words used in the inscription have ambiguous meanings.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

PunkTorah is psyched to announce the release of Circle Pit the Bimah: Commentaries on the Weekly Torah Portion by Jeremiah Satterfield.

This collection of dvrei Torah (teachings on the weekly Torah portion) is a mosh pit frenzy of gonzo, stream-of-consciousness journalism about God, Jewish identity, Jewish history, life, love and everything in between. If you love Henry Rollins, Hunter S. Thompson and Judaism, you’ll get a kick out of this book. It’s the ideal way to get started in weekly Torah study.

UPDATE: We have edited the download link to download the eBook. You no longer need to enter an email address. Click here to download your copy.

Make sure to give a donation to support all of PunkTorah’s hard work and to keep our eBooks free to the public.

And follow author Jeremiah Satterfield on Twitter @circlepitbimah

If you’re looking for animal friendly Passover alternatives, look no further than the NewKosher vegan cookbook. Chock full of Passover recipes, as well as delicious recipes for the entire Jewish year, this book is holy in more ways than one. Of course, who wouldn’t love Matzo-Potato Ball Soup, Salad of Romaine Hearts, Eggplant “Cookies” with Roasted Tomato Sauce, Oven-Roasted Baby Beets and Chocolate-Caramel-Almond Matzo?

To download this free eBook, just click this link. You’ll enter your email address — and POOF — like magic, you can download this and many other awesome, free Jewish eBooks.

In addition, check out some of our other great Passover recipes throughout the PunkTorah blog. We’ve made substitution recommendations for vegans:

Vegan Mushroom “Chopped Liver”

Vegan Truffle Chocolate Pie

Jewsy Boozy Potato Vodka Exodus Lemonade

Moroccan Orange Carrot Salad (omit the yogurt and substitute agave nectar for honey)

Nigella’s Butternut Squash With Pecan (omit the blue cheese)

Vegetarian Gefilte Fish (contains eggs)

]]> http://punktorah.org/vegetarian-and-vegan-passover-recipes/feed/ 1 http://punktorah.org/this-is-why-youre-fat-the-blessing-of-less-is-more-and-parshah-vayakhel-pekudei-torah-video-mashup/ http://punktorah.org/this-is-why-youre-fat-the-blessing-of-less-is-more-and-parshah-vayakhel-pekudei-torah-video-mashup/#comments Mon, 04 Mar 2013 15:59:09 +0000 punktorah http://punktorah.org/?p=8098

Sometimes when we’re excited about something, we tend to go overboard. For example, when we think it’s genius to wrap everything in (kosher) bacon, or to put a chicken patty between two glazed doughnuts. Such is true in this week’s Torah portion. Sometimes, you just have to call it quits. Because the more you give, the more you put in, the less you’ll get out.

Big thanks to this blog for the awesomely gross photos.

In June, I’ll be a rabbi. And I’m terrified about it.

My professional mentors have done everything they can to make me feel better. But alas, on Sunday evening at 11:30PM, my eyes are as wide as half dollars as I stare at the computer screen kvetching about the inevitable.

When the panic sets in, I start to go into flash card overdrive. I conjugate Hebrew verbs in different forms and tenses. I start to quiz myself on the Bible, the characters and their entire life stories. I try to remember every battle won and lost, and by whom and at what time period. Then I start to nervously surf Biblical criticism websites, keeping myself up-to-date on the latest archeological findings in Israel, and trying my damnedest to repeat trope.

And then I think about my “shortcomings”. I did not have to learn Modern Hebrew. I had very limited Rabbinic Hebrew, and my Biblical Hebrew was just enough to make me worthy of tutoring bar mitzvah kids. I’m not an expert on certain areas of halacha. Crap! What do you do if your ox gores someone in the town square, again? Why don’t I know off the top of my head if that’s in tractate Shabbos or Rosh Hashanah?

Trying to overcome my fears through distraction, I check my email. And something magical happens. I get a message like this:

“Dear Patrick, thank you for taking the time to read and reply to my long email. It’s nice to know people care about me. And thank Jeremiah for chatting with me on the website. And also, please tell Ketzirah that I really enjoyed her Shabbat service last week. Looking forward to seeing Brian at the next Torah study on Monday!”

And then it hits me. My rabbinate is not about me. It’s not what I know, or don’t know, or whether I went to RSI or JTS or RRC or who-gives-a-damn where.

My rabbinate is about you.

It’s about all the time and energy you put into this community. All the hours you spend writing articles, doing design work, helping me “off the edge of a cliff” when some techie issue comes up. It’s about the YouTube videos, the live streaming events, the many times I have laughed and been spiritually fulfilled by some comment in a chat room. It’s about the number of emails that we receive from people all over the world who are grateful for what you and I spend our time doing.

I’m not becoming a rabbi so that I can have a rabbinate. I am becoming a rabbi because it is another way that I can give back to this community that I am lucky to be a part of. If I had become an auto mechanic, I’d be changing your tires so we could hit the road and crash Jewish conventions with our message. If I had become a chef, I’d be making you dinner while you hack out the next cool Jewish eBook.

But I became a rabbi. So I suppose I’ll be doing rabbi things for you.

Anyway, thanks for being such an awesome community, PunkTorah and OneShul. You’re all such wonderful people. It’s an honor to be with you.

Warmly,

Patrick Aleph

Sometimes, you just have to let Kevin Smith movies do all the talking. This week’s Torah portion, Ki Tissa, is about the sin of the Golden Calf. Wonder what that would look like now? Apparently, so did Kevin.

I Kings 18:20-39

Elijah foresees a three-year drought—punishment for the worship of Ba’al, the local deity of King Ahab and Queen Jezebel, rulers of the the Northern Kingdom of Israel who championed & encouraged various forms of idolatry. Ahab accuses Elijah of causing the hardship, at which point Elijah suggests a Battle of the Gods.

In this instance, Ba’al is the Northern Semetic title for “lord” used in many cases, both for local spirit deities, such as patron gods of cities, and sometimes for people, and attributed as a primary god of the Phoenicians. Not to be confused with Baal (or Bael) who appears in the 1600’s in some occult writings as a prince of Hell.

Elijah, the Ba’alists and assorted spectators gather on Mount Carmel and challenges the people: “How long will you hop between two ideas? If the L-rd is G-d, go after Him, and if the Baal, go after him.”

In the grand demonstration, both the worshippers of Ba’al and Elijah will take a bull, sacrifice it, and lay each upon a pile of unkindled wood. Then both would call to each respective deity to light the fire.

The followers of Ba’al agree, and call for their fire to be lit to no avail. Elijah even taunts them, suggesting the call louder because Ba’al might be out chasing down enemies or on an adventure or maybe just taking a nap.

Later that evening, Elijah builds an altar, lays down his offering, and surrounds it with water. He calls to “Lord, the G-d of Abraham, Isaac and Israel…Today let it be known that You are G-d in Israel and that I am Your servant, and at Your word have I done all these things.” Then it’s said a fire descended from the heavens and consumed the offering, the altar, and even the water, causing the bystanders to prostrate themselves and declare allegiance to the one true G-d.

And a few lines outside this haftorah portion, Elijah then orders the prophets of Ba’al to be seized, later to be killed at Kishon Brook (do you remember this from Devorah’s story in Haftorah Beshalach?).

It’s always fun to hear about what the kids at AJMF are up to. And this year, they really upped the game by bringing in your 90′s-unrequited-love-in-horn-rimmed-glasses AKA Lisa Loeb.

You say, I only hear what I want to?

Darn right I do, Lisa! All the acts at this year‘s AJMF are worth hearing.

Take a look. Purchase tickets. And support fresh, Jewish music.

This Purim, consider using the amazing lesson plan designed by Ariana Katz for PunkTorah. Download the PDF here.

Purim combines ritual, costume, profanity, silliness, community, and wildness that speaks to people of all ages. I often introduce Purim to people who are learning about it for the first time as “Jewish Halloween.” While that is in part true, there are so many different directions you can go in when studying Purim, that it expands far beyond that. The Jewish calendar provides so many rich opportunities to pray with our feet, to learn by doing, to follow in the path of the Israelites who say to Moses about God’s laws, “we will do and we will hear” (Exodus 23:7), and learn about tradition and values as we enact those very values. In a roundup of the values we’re learning as we celebrate Purim, I’ve thought about some of the different lenses we may use teach about the holiday. Also check out a proposed lesson plan to teach about Vashti, consent, and reworking of Purim traditions to make space for the women in the story!

Purim is a great way to teach about class
I learned that we wear costumes so that the rich and poor will celebrate together, regardless of class. In the picture books that are seared into my mind, people in costumes dance in concentric circles late into the night, holding hands and getting crunk together. Tradition also teaches us that we all wear costumes so those receiving matanot l’evyonim, charity to the poor that is given out specifically on Purim, are not embarrassed to do so. Purim is a great opportunity to talk about Rambam‘s levels of mitzvot.

Purim is an important moment to talk about Orientalism
There is a common misconception that all Jews are white, Eastern European, Yiddish-speakers. The story of Purim, which takes place in Iran, is often depicted as an “exotic” story, full of “savage” Persian oppressors, and Jewish heroes (who always look white.) Orientalism, as defined by Edward Said is “a distribution of geopolitical awareness into aesthetic, scholarly, economic, sociological, historical, and philological texts.” Orientalism defines “the Orient” as the opposite of the modern, Western world, and thereby justifies “a Western style for dominating, restructuring, and having authority over the Orient.”

As we study the story of Purim, why not discuss the “mystical land of Shushan” we read about in the Megillah as the real place of Iran?
Consider eating Persian food, studying about the Jews of Tehran, and thinking about the orientalist tropes many of us may rely on in our coded costumes, drawing, and language. We can counter this narrative with young children with the images we show them and the costumes we choose, and have a larger conversation with older children about the theory and the implications of a story that takes place in Iran in the current context of the US, Israel, Iran, colonization, orientalism, and militarization. This Purim, teach your children about the persecution, faith, bravery, and standing up for your identity we see in Purim, rather than reinforcing Orientalist tropes of evil viziers, unibrows, and exoticism.

Purim encourages us to talk about drinking alcohol and other responsible adult behaviors
Nothing makes you wonder if drinking is alright than seeing your childhood rabbi knock back a few shots with the Purim House Band between readings of the Megillah. Learning by example is something that Judaism does best, and the commandment to get so schwasted you can’t tell the difference between the hero Mordechai and the villain Haman is a great opportunity to talk to your 15 year old about the appropriate times and ages to indeed get thus schwasted.

Purim is a great way to teach feminism
It can’t be said enough: Vashti is a heroine for consent! As we read the opening chapter of the story of Purim, we learn fleetingly about Esther’s predecessor to the crown, a queen who refused to dance naked before her husband, King Ahashverus and his bros after they had been drinking for about 180 days. The Hebrew, mishteh, means a drinking party, basically a gigantic rager, and Vashti refused to leave her party with other righteous babes to go dance in this unsafe environment. And so, her darling husband gives her the ol’ heave ho! Shouldn’t we cheer Vashti’s name as much as we cheer Mordechai?

And Esther! Some may see her as a puppet, some as a sex symbol for Jewish women trying to pass, but she is the heroine of Purim, and has the whole book named after her. Check out some proposed ideas for your lesson plan, to teach the other other stories of Purim to grades 6-12.

Ariana is a religious school educator, PR type, knitter, radical children’s book collector, and activist. Ariana blogs at Vildah Chaya, including weekly Parsha Playlists about each week’s Torah portion. Ariana blushes when someone can work bell hooks theory into a d’var torah.

Parshah Tetzaveh is important to me because it’s the first Torah portion I ever drashed on for PunkTorah. And while I could say that the “fourth time is a charm”, I felt that this week it would be overkill to make an entire Torah Video Mashup, when instead, I could simply show you my favorite Tetzaveh, which I wrote and narrated for my friends Sarah Lefton and Matthue Roth at G-dCast.com

Four years is a long time to be shlepping Judaism on the internet, and if PunkTorah is as meaningful to you as it is to me, I hope you will give a generous donation.

Warmly,

Patrick Aleph
aka Atlanta’s Best Dressed Jewish Punk (which is a lie)

PunkTorah is participating in the JChoice “Win $1000 for Your Organization for Purim” contest and we need your help!

Below is the link to a poll. Click on the link, fill out your info, “like” JChoice on Facebook, and we may win $1,000.00.

http://bit.ly/135p0V7

Please share this poll with your friends, family, social media channels and anywhere else. It is up to you to garner votes. The more votes you help PunkTorah get, the better the chance will win the $1,000, and be able to continue our hard work.

This poll went live today and runs through Sunday February 24th at 11:59 PM EST. On Monday February 25th JChoice will tally the votes, and the organization with the most votes will win!

Thank you for your support!

Ezekiel 43:10-27

So after all that work we heard about in last week’s haftorah building the Temple (with the throngs of 80,000 men, 3,300 managers, and tons of stone and lumber), we find Ezekiel describing his vision of the third Holy Temple and dedication.

Third!? Wait, what?

Back up.

Solomon’s Temple (the First Temple, or Holy Temple, in ancient Jerusalem on the Temple Mount ) that we heard about last week, was purportedly sieged by the Babylonians around 587 BCE. Rabbinic literature suggests this temple stood just over 400 years, which would put it between 832-422 BCE (later than secular estimates). The exact history is murky between biblical accounts and archaeological inferences, not in any small part due to the lack of permitted archaeological excavations of the Temple Mount in modern times.

A Second Temple, about 516 BCE to 70 CE followed the return of the Jewish exiles to Jerusalem under a decree from Cyrus the Great of Persia. After a brief intermission, work continued under the Persian King Darius (the soon-to-be nemesis of Alexander the Great). Romans destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple in 70 CE putting the kibosh on a then four-year-long Jewish revolt. The lower levels of the Western Wall are the standing remains comprise the Wailing Wall (or Kotel) which is now a sacred site for Jewish prayer in Jerusalem.

So now back to this “Third Temple.” The “Third Temple” or Ezekiel’s Temple is a prophetic concept, said to be built by the Messiah himself, on the day of Yom Kippur Ezekiel prophesizes the entrance of G-d through the eastern gate of the third temple wall. Prayer for the Third Temple is part of the three-times daily Amidah prayer.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

In this week’s haftorah, the process of building the Holy Temple is described: the Jewish (and non-Jewish) recruits and how the foundational stone was hewn, transported, and laid.

Typically we see more prophetic accounts described in the haftorah portions, yet this excerpt reads more like a snippet of a contract. King Solomon raised a levy of 30,000 men from throughout Israel, to be sent to Lebanon in alternating waves of ten-thousand; the men were to be in Lebanon one month, with two months home. This orchestration was led by Adoniram.

A total of 70,000 men “bore burdens” in executing this project, with 80,000 hewers in the mountains. Even the hierarchy of middle management is described: Solomon’s chief officers, 3,300 who ruled over those who “wrought in the work.”

The Temple foundation was created from Solomon and Hiram’s builders from the stone and lumber brought from the tens of thousands of men called upon to claim it and carry it back from the mountains.

According to the portion, the Temple was 60 cubits by 20 cubits by 30 cubits high. “Cubits” are a unit of measure based on the length from the elbow to the middle finger-tip (about 18-inches) meaning we’re talking about 90-feet X 30-feet X 45-feet (so if you think the elbow-to-fingertip unit of measure is a bit odd, consider that our “feet” is also historically based on the average man’s actual foot length).

Beyond the central “house,” several chambers and sanctuaries, the haftorah iterates measurements and locations of rebatements and beams, the size and placement of windows, doors, and stairs; even that it was finished with “paneling and joined planks of cedar.”

The prophesy concludes, “(Concerning) this house which you are building, if you walk in My statutes, and execute My ordinances, and keep all My commandments to walk in them; then will I establish My word with you, which I spoke to David your father.”

It’s early, and Patrick (our fearless leader) hasn’t had coffee. We’re stuck doing accounting and can’t cobble together a rightful Torah Video Mashup this week. So instead, Patrick tells the worst tent joke EVER. It’s like Old Jews Telling Jokes, only he’s a young Jew and his joke is…well…you’ll see.

What so many of us know about the holiday of Purim is what we can remember from the reading of the Megilah, getting to scream and yell in Synagogue, and, well, getting really…really….lit. Nothing like a Jewish holiday where we are actually supposed to get drunk and party. Yes. It’s the Jewish Mardi Gras.

All of that is amazing, fun and good.

But there is another tradition of Purim that I think we should all be talking about and more importantly DOING: Mishloach Manot (aka Shalach Manot).

Simply, this mitzvah is about the giving of two kinds of food gifts to someone. Mostly now it seems to be about giving a couple of kinds of hamentaschen to your grandmother. But there is such a clearer, deeper reason for this. Purim falls just as the winter is coming to an end. The time when in another era, in an agrarian culture, many people would be wondering if they would make it to spring. The time of year when the root cellar would be down to the last of its stock and only the meagerest of offerings were coming out of the earth.

We think this is a thing of the past, but for those who are socio-economically disadvantaged — aka poor — this is a hard time of year. Over the “winter gift giving holidays” people do things like donate food and money to food pantries and other charities that help feed people. This time of year, food pantries begin to struggle. “Seasonal” work that supports so many working poor, is at its slowest — whether that is retail, construction, or farming.

Adar is supposed to be a month of increasing joy. What if. What if. What if?

What if all of us who can afford it share just a little bit with those that can’t and increase their joy? I’m talking specifically through food. Whether it’s a donation to a food pantry of two kinds of soups, home baked goods that you take to senior center, or just that surprise package you send to grandma. Purim is a holiday of revealing the hidden. The issues around food justice are a hidden ill of our society. Let’s use our amazing, fun, celebratory holiday to do something about this.

What do you say?

I get weirded out by nouns. Specifically of the proper variety. I know I’m a blogger/writer or whatever and I should be in love with ALL THE GRAMMARS!! but dudes I’m just not. Well, not when I guess it comes to me, like about me? I don’t know. Let me just tell you the story.

Sometimes I speak in “we” and “us”. It’s one of those weird things people in relationships and with small babies do. We went to the park. We are hungry. We are cold. Some of those are legit, like we went to the park, obviously little man and I BOTH did go somewhere. Do I always know WE are hungry? No. I do not. Sometimes I’m wrong, sometimes I’m right, but you bet your bottom dollar I’ll say it again in a few minutes.

There are times when I say things like “they” and “them”. Usually involving my school, or my family. They want to get ice cream. They said we’re off for President’s day. That kind of thing. Yes I’m a part of my school, and YES I’m a part of my family, but sometimes don’t you feel like you’re not included in these phrases? I mean, I do.

That’s what this is all about. I was told once you start thinking in “we” and “us” instead of “them” and “them” in Judaism, you’re done. You’re there. I assume some sort of party is held in your honor (with wine of course) and confetti is thrown from the sky. Your will SURELY look like Ray Lewis’ when he cried all this year, and it’ll be a joyous occasion.

There are many times when I’m like “THEY” celebrate Purim in a few weeks, and then not even the next sentence will come out “WE” celebrate is by (fill in the blank). I tend to do that a lot though. Think I’m un-included in the things I’m clearly included in. I just seriously wrote an email to someone about “those guys” at Punk Torah, to which I got a very confused reply of “Well aren’t you one of them guys too?” Good question email-er. Good question.

So here’s my question to you, kids and people, when did YOU consider yourself one of “them”? Was it something that was said to you? Was it some weird/awesome moment in time where confetti really did come out of the ceiling? Where you defending a belief and figure it out? TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT!!

Jacqueline D. is a 20something “stupid new converting noob”, who likes comic books, nail polish, and will be your best friend if you buy her a slushy. Most of her life is spent over at Mother Morpher where she blogs sometimes.

Jeremiah 34:8-22; 33:25-26

The rules of owning Jewish slaves are iterated in this week’s haftorah. The prophet Jeremiah rebukes the people for disobeying the special rules governing holding Hebrew slaves (various rules for slave ownership, slave families, and other people-as-property rules appear in this week’s parsha; along with rules about handling interpersonal grievances like harming or killing each other).

According to the Torah, Jewish slaves must freed and debts cancelled every seven years, preventing the indefinite indentured servitude of a Jew to his fellow Hebrew.

Following Nebuchadnezzar’s conquering of Jerusalem, the Jewish elite freed all their Jewish slaves in an attempt to gain holy forgiveness (as well as secure additional fighting power against the onslaught of Babylonians). But as soon as the siege abates, the slave owners reneged on the promise—and re-enslave those who just helped turn the tide of the battle.

Jeremiah forewarns that those who retrieved their slaves back by force would be handed over to the enemies who were to soon be back to conquer the city, laying Judah to waste.

When we think about the epic plagues wrought upon the Pharaoh for holding Hebrew slaves, it’s strange indeed to think about Jews holding other Jews (or anyone else for that matter) as slaves after that experience. However, we are talking about a very different time on this planet—taking conquered people as spoils of war, considering the children of indentured servants as property, being able to trade daughters for goods was all commonplace practice.

That we had any kind of governance of ethics for these things was really rather forward-thinking for the time; that individuals had legal recourse if they were treated (even worse) than they could expect was a unique product of the rule of law of the Torah. So while surely this isn’t a high point in our ideological history, we did lay the groundwork for a conceptually different framework of human rights—which does help explain why Jews were (and continue to be) such a significant force in our own civil rights movements.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

Laws, laws and more laws. But it’s a heck of a lot less boring when they’re read over an eight year old boy playing banjo like a you-know-what!

Start by colouring in the underside of your paper plate completely with the brown crayon.

Now spread glue across the inside of your paper plate, scrunch up little bits of tissue paper and stick them to the plate. This is your “filling”.

The last step is to fold the round paper plate into a triangular shape, just like real Hamantashen. Make lots more and decorate your house with them. Have fun!

Miri is a joyfully Jewish homeschooling mother of three and lives with her husband and children on the south coast of England. She blogs at herewearetogether.com

Purim is all about dressing up and having fun!
These fun masks are easy for children to customise themselves and with a bit of imagination you can dress up as absolutely anyone!

You will need:

• A paper plate
• scissors
• ribbons
• crayons
• sticky gems or buttons

Cut a mask shape into your paper plate. We left space for the nose and later added holes for the eyes.

Cut the top of the mask into the right shape for your costume. Rivka wanted to dress up as Queen Esther so we cut a crown shape into the top of the mask, but you can add horns or antennae, too..

Now you just have to fill in the details and decorate your mask, we added shiny gems, eyebrows, eyelashes and a crown, but you could add an eyepatch, spots or glitter and feathers, too! Have fun! Chag Purim Sameach!

Miri is a joyfully Jewish homeschooling mother of three and lives with her husband and children on the south coast of England. She blogs at herewearetogether.com

If there’s no point, don’t do it.

If there’s no point to an arbitrary rule, don’t follow it. If you’re lacking kavanah (intent), don’t pray it. If you’re assigning busy work to your class to keep them busy while you nurse a migrane, don’t teach it. Just as we do not learn ethics from following laws by rote, we don’t learn meaning and content from educational experiences that do not pack a punch.

Enough negatives: invision conversations with 3rd graders about the Best Moment Ever in the nighttime hours of erev Shabbat. Imagine building an edible Sukkah, eating it too quickly, then sitting in a food-coma while you read a story of the mystical Ushpizin and brainstorm your own guests. Gird your loins as you imagine 4th graders staging a mini-action in which they make banners, signs, and chants to create a political campaign for Tu B’Shvat, inspired by The Lorax, and shout “We Are The 4th Grade and We Speak For the Trees!” Fill your heart when you listen to 8th grade boys discuss masculinity and menshlechkeit as both social constructs.

My name is Ariana, and I’m stoked to be blogging at PunkTorah. I’ve been teaching in religious schools for the past 4.5 years, after being a student at Jewish Day schools for 12. In my fairy tale upbringing, we danced in Wonder Woman face paint, ate pomegranates naked to avoid stains on our clothes, ran outside under the stars to learn about the lunar eclipse, and blessed everything we found Good. We blessed Shabbat as we had our weekly Shabbat Parades, marching around the first floor of our home with tambourines and pots to bang and clapping hands before settling down for Shabbat dinner. We blessed the creatures of the world when we stopped before sitting down to our own vegetarian dinner to feed the pets. Through experience and exploration, my family made blessings.

As an educator and an activist, I spend a lot of time thinking about points of access. Children of any age can understand the beauty of a good midrash, it all depends on how it’s presented. How can we entice kids to the study of Torah (short of smearing honey on the pages like they allegedly did in the Old Country)? By honoring their experience and pushing them once we all get on the same page. How can we push our Jewish community to think more critically about Israel and Palestine? By honoring experiences, while simultaneously bringing passion, respect, and new information to the table. At heart I’m a nerd for Torah study, midrash, the Documentary Hypothesis. I’m also a proponent of student-lead learning, designing my curriculum to be flexible to meet the interests, needs, and modalities preferred by students.

I graduated from university in May, studying sociology and gender studies. Basically a degree in feminism, and I earned my minor in bothering the administration with my comrades. I’m in the process of applying to rabbinical school, but also I’m violently superstitious and not interested in talking about that until the end of this process, kinahera. I hope to one day speak Yiddish. I live in a collective house with 5 of my closest friends, and dance in the kitchen on the regular. The first punk album I bought was the Dead Kennedys “Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death,” but I’m more of a Girlyman/Waxahatchee/Joan Baez/Daniel Kahn kind of person now.

I hope to bring to PunkTorah Kids resources as a Jewish educator, including lesson plans I write, stitched together from amazing resources already available, and those of my own creation. I hope to share interactive haggadot and other tangibles and project ideas to do at home. I hope to share some Jewish educational theory and have discussions with the PunkTorah community about engaging young Jews in a modern world.

Ariana is a religious school educator, PR type, knitter, radical children’s book collector, and activist. Ariana blogs at Vildah Chaya, including weekly Parsha Playlists about each week’s Torah portion. Ariana blushes when someone can work bell hooks theory into a d’var torah.

Email: katz.ariana@gmail.com
Twitter: @arianadeclines

Exodus 18:1-20:23

This week’s Haftora opens in the “year of the death of King Uzziah,” King of Judah, who had battled leprosy for the last decade or so of his life, dying in about 740 BCE. Isiah recounts a prophesy where G-d reveals himself sitting on an “exalted throne” with his feet in the temple.

Isaiah says the “doorposts quaked from the voice of Him.” Indeed they just may have. Geologic evidence suggests a massive 7.8-8.2 magnitude earthquake hits Israel, Jordan, Lebanon & Syria somewhere in this time period.

The message relayed to Isaiah, “go and say to these people, ‘indeed you hear but you do not understand, indeed you see, but you do not know. This people’s heart is becoming fat, and his ears are becoming heavy, and his eyes are becoming sealed, lest he see with his eyes, and hear with his ears, and his heart understand, and he repent and be healed.”

Historically, this is also a bit ironic, because while we’re hearing about eyes being sealed, Pekah, a captain in the Israeli army, is about to kill his king to become king of Israel himself. And what does “Pekah,”mean? “Open-eyed.”

Now, as prophets usually do, Isaiah tells us that G-d plans a pretty hefty punishment, and that the land will be made desolate, with only a trunk, a “holy seed,” left of the Judah. Funny he should mention that because, as political leaders usually do, a skirmish is about to break out between Pekah and the Aramaian king versus Ahaz of Judah and Menahem of Sameria, who were Assyrian supporters at the time.

I’d venture to say if we’ve learned anything, that it was a good time to be a prophet (“I predict a war”) and a bad time to be a random citizen (“crap! Another war!).

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

When I explained to my Rabbi the ONE and only thing that would stop me from not converting would be
if he told me to divorce my husband he sort of laughed at me. In a very nice and respectable way, he’s
a great guy honestly, but he did still chuckle a little. I mean, it happened. I know there are some Rabbi‘s
out there that would be all H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS NO, to the girl with a semi Christian hubs who
wants to become Jewish, and maybe you had one yourself. All I can tell you is I lucked out with this
dude.

The one thing he did tell me though, was that I should raise my son, and future babies who won’t be
around for MANY MANY years to come, in the Jewish faith. Obviously I expected my Rabbi to tell me
this, I mean dudes isn’t that his job? He told me though that while most people would be worried about
the religion becoming extinct if no one took it observantly, he was really worried about making my
children decide a big decision like that on their own.

Again, we’re a really lucky case in that my Hubs isn’t a strong observant anything, and so it’s not like
there ever would have been a problem with choosing over Christmas or Hanukkah. He won’t have to choose
mommy’s views over Daddy’s. At least not about this. He WILL be expected to chose a side on the great
comic book debate. That’s just final. (And I’m SURE he’ll choose DC over Marvel. I have high hopes!)

So I guess REALLY the way to raise an “inter faith baby” is to not. Not helpful is it? Well let me leave you
with this. In the beginning my thought was to let my little dude to chose. It was too big of a thought
process for me. I mean it’s HIS life after all. I wanted him to be in charge of it. I had every intention of
raising him as just a baby, who kept Kosher and celebrated holidays with me. Then it dawned on me, if
it’s too big of a decision, why would I leave that to him? So I asked him. I sat him down with his juice and
some goldfish crackers and said “Hey dude, you wanna be Jewish?” And you’ll never guess what he said
to me.

I’ll help with your anticipation, because he screamed “PUMBA!” in my face and ate some more crackers.
Case closed. Little man is WAY too little to make decisions like that for himself, and so I have to put my
big girl pants on (what a weird saying huh?) and be the mom. The kind who has to raise him the way she
sees fit.

Jacqueline D. is a 20something stupid new converting noob, who likes comic books, nail polish, and will be your best friend if you buy her a slushy. Most of her life is spent over at Mother Morpher where she blogs sometimes.

Is there a contradiction in the Biblical Ten Commandments? And what does Mel Brooks think about all this?

It’s a very “girl power” haftorah this week. The Israelites were being trounced by the vast armies of King Jabin of Canaan and his general Sisera. Deborah the Prophetess instructs Barak, son of Abinoam to “gather your men toward Mount Tabor, and take with you ten thousand men of the children of Naphtali and Zubulun (2 of the 12 tribes). And I shall draw to you to the brook Kishon Sisera…with his chariots and his multitude; and I will give him into your hand.”

Barak and Deborah led the offensive maneuver. Sisera responded to the Israelites’ mobilization as expected and headed to the Kishon River. The haftorah tells us the Canannites had to fight on two fronts that day: against Barak & Deborah’s army below and from the heavens above, and were said to be severely crushed.

Sisera, the defeated general, fled on foot and sought asylum at the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, a tent-maker. She agreed, bringing him into the tent and offering to hide him. He must have been relieved at the seeming safe haven, as he rested, falling asleep after the grueling battle. It would be a rest from which he would not awaken however; as we’re told Jael pounded a tent peg through his temple as he slept.

What a way for the ladies to turn the tide of the battles! Deborah (or Dvora) means “bee.’ Rocky’s trainer advising to “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee” comes to mind. Deborah was the fourth Judge of Israel, and the only judge mentioned in the Torah, which describes her as both a counselor and a warrior. The portrayal of Deborah and Jael as strong, intelligent, independent women is significant—having a non-royalty female as a both a legal judge and a leader in battle would have been extremely forward-thinking during that era, about 12th century BCE.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com

One of the first big questions I had for my Rabbi was if I should keep kashrut. He told me yes, as I assumed he would. I mean, duh, WOULDN’T your Rabbi tell you that you SHOULD? Well dudes, can we talk as friends for a moment? I’m new to keeping Kosher, and like everything else I’ve done so far, I thought it would be easy.

I thought “Oh I actually hate eating pigs anyway, so whatever.” This was yet ANOTHER one of those things where it was like Jackie, do you even know who you are? You eat cheese with meat like every meal, and every snack. I dream of cheeseburgers and bologna and cheese sandwiches! And no, I’m not kidding. I love food. Fat kid USA over here, I’ll admit it.

Back to my Rabbi though, when I asked him if I should keep kosher, I followed my question with will you help me. I meant it more for my son at the time, being a mom of a EXTREMELY underweight baby I’m always concerned with whatever my kid puts into his mouth. (And my pediatrician didn’t really seem to want to help me how to transition little man’s diet in the littlest bit, but that may need to be another post for another time.) What I didn’t know was that my question would be answered and mean something for the both of us too.

He told me to think of it in a way like this, when you turn 21 there’s a law that now says you may drink. Emotionally and mentally you didn’t change, but at 12:01AM your age did and that was enough for them. He told me that we shouldn’t think of everything else in that manner though. Judaism started as a decision at 12:01AM a month ago, but emotionally and mentally I’m not fully there yet. Baby steps are needed, and of course there are always the people who never keep Kosher and they’re perfectly awesome and great too!

Beginning of January seemed like a good time to start for me. I decided that beef and cheese was an absolutle no, and that I’d give up pork. I mean, shellfish wasn’t ever really a thing I ate, so that was also omited from my diet, but really only by chance. I’m still SLOWLY phasing myself away from eating cheese with my other meats, but it’s going to be a very very slow pace for this one. I’m really sure it was absolutely the line about “Don’t [boil] a kid in its mother’s milk” that just made it so for me. Ugh. That just puts me in the saddest moods ever when I hear it like that. I never really thought of my food that way, and now? I can’t think of it in any other way at all. It’s just a mood killer for sure.

Now for reals, this isn’t a post about “HEY I”M COOLER THAN YOU I HAVE DIETARY RESTRICTIONS NOW” because, I don’t care if you keep kosher or not. My adoptive Jewish Mother doesn’t and I still think she’s the coolest lady ever. I’m aware that not everyone feels the need to do this, and honestly I totally understand why. It’s a heck of a lot easier to not have to worry about your utensils touching, or having to opt out on eating awesome foods. (I mean you know, you know how hard it is without me telling you)

Remember how I told you guys I’m mostly alone over here? It’s like just straight carnivores over here., I don’t even have any cool vegetarian friends anymore, they’ve all switched over to the darkside. They’re munching on 1/2 pound meaty burgers with melty cheese, and 50 bacon strips with bacon bits, and I’m sure just for good measure the bun is made of a real pig who rolled in cheese, bugs, and shellfish for good measure. . Or, maybe it may just seem like that now that I can’t join in on the fun. Either way, I know many people tell me how easy it is to keep Kosher. And to you, I have to say this: Tacos, Nachos, and Burritos. =(

Jacqueline D. is a 20something stupid new converting noob, who likes comic books, nail polish, and will be your best friend if you buy her a slushy. Most of her life is spent over at Mother Morpher where she blogs sometimes.

Just like it says: three ways to part the Red Sea aka Sea of Reeds. What’s your favorite miracle?

Kavanah. If you’re Jewish, you’ve probably heard the word thrown around by your Rabbi, or perhaps by a friend. Perhaps you use it yourself on a regular basis. For me, it’s a biggie. Loosely translated as “intention,” and related to the word kivun meaning “direction,” living life with kavanah is an ideal I strive towards on a daily basis. I find that being mindful about why I act the way I act makes my life significantly more meaningful.

So I was surprised when in a few conversations, some people spoke to a vicious “kavanah vs. keva debate” that they believe is raging across the world of Jewish prayer. Keva relates to the Hebrew word “Kavua” which means “fixed,” “stable” or “permanent,” and these friends of mine seemed to think that making their prayer keva was tantamount to removing any and all emotion from the process. Indeed, Rabbi Shimon said almost two thousand years ago, in the ethical book Pirke Avot, that one should absolutely not make one’s prayer keva.

When they informed me of this, I found myself vigorously nodding my head. Of course I wanted kavanah to come out on top in this discussion! When people pray without feeling, it bothers me to no end. When somebody gives me a dirty look for drumming on a siddur or exhibiting some sort of physical connection to a service, my gut reaction is to drum their face with the siddur, although I generally find a way to restrain myself.

It turns out, many folks in liberal Jewish circles would agree with that sentiment. We look at a traditional Jew speeding his way through a service, barely pausing to take a breath, and we wonder how exactly there could be any thought happening at all, let alone thought that is in any way emotional or spiritual. I wondered this. A lot. So I decided to try it their way.

Starting the silent Amidah on a Friday night, I was poised. I was about to roll my way through these blessings as fast as I could, without pausing except to breathe occasionally. So I went for it. Gomeil-hasadim-tovim-vkoneh-hakol-vzocher-hasdei-avot-vimahot-umeivi…the words were practically on top of each other. I finished in only a couple minutes, and I sort of mindlessly dawdled for a little while as the rest of the room finished. I didn’t like this keva thing.

But then something funny happened. The next week, as I returned to my old way of davening, I realized that I was considerably more comfortable with the text. Where before I slowly stumbled my way through certain prayers whose Hebrew wording I was less familiar with, I didn’t have to pause as much. My prayer flowed more smoothly, and because I could spend less time worrying about the precise pronunciation of words, I was able to focus on my kavanah more fully.

Shockingly enough, my attempt at keva had actually paid off, and I repeated the process a number of times. What stunned me even more was that eventually this style felt as legitimate and meaningful as the one I had been utilizing before.

I should not have been stunned, and since then I have realized why. There shouldn’t be a kavanah vs. keva debate. They’re not opposites, and they both can play a vital role in prayer and in daily life. In Pirke Avot, the same text that criticized keva in prayer, the famous Rabbi Shammai paints it in a more positive light. He mentions the importance of making one’s Torah study keva, in this case meaning “steady” or “at regular intervals.” I have adopted that idea as part of my own life, through daily Torah, and that decision has fulfilled me in ways I would truly describe as life-changing.

I fell into a trap that many of us can fall into in life. I made an assumption about a practice I was unfamiliar with, and the assumption turned out to be unfair for a variety of reasons. We do a lot of assuming in the Jewish world, and it’s about time that we work to change that. Some traditional folks would probably describe Punk Torah as just another example of the dumbed-down Judaism that characterizes liberal denominations nowadays, and I, along with most of you reading this, would instantly react negatively to that sort of gross misrepresentation.

There are real debates in Judaism, make no mistake about it. Jews hold a vast array of opinions about everything from God and Torah to gay rights and the role of women. There is no need to implant artificial arguments like kavanah vs. keva on top of all of these when instead we could learn something from each other. Do me a favor. Next time you daven, find a prayer style completely different than what you are used to, and give it a shot. That small decision really can have a lasting impact on your spiritual life.

Written by Lex Rofes.

Jeremiah 46:13–28.

While Egypt is experiencing the final three plagues in this week’s Torah portion, in the haftorah, we learn about Egypt getting in trouble again centuries later—this time it’s a “plague” of Babylonians.

Jeremiah forsees the Egyption fate: “Stand fast and prepare yourself, for the sword has devoured round about you.” He proceeds to outline how helpless the Egyptians will be to save themselves from the impending destruction Nebuchadnezzar will wreak.

Of the Jewish people, however, Jeremiah relays that (of course) the Jews will be punished and exiled, but ultimately redeemed (notice a trend, anyone?). The prophesy concludes, “Jacob shall return and be quiet and at ease, and there shall be none who disturb his rest.”

Do you ever wonder if any of these prophesies promising punishment and redemption and the smiting of enemies pan out?

To put this battle in historical context, we’re looking at about 609-587 BCE and this was not the first time Judea was caught between world powers Egypt and Babylonia. Jeremiah, the prophet to the leadership of Judah, thought it was prudent to ally with Babylon, as did many other political leaders of the time. And considering the previous relationship with Egypt, this is not surprising.

Tensions were high as the Babylonians conquered peoples and cities—expanding its kingdom at an alarming speed. The Egyptians planned to confront the Babylonians before they reached Egypt. At the time of this particular skirmish, to reach the Babylonian army to engage, the Egyptian army would need to pass through Judea. Necho II, the Egyptian King, evidently sent word that they had no quarrel with the Judeans, and sought only to pass through Judah.

As the Judeans elected to cast their lot with the Babylonians, instead of allowing the Egyptians to pass through Judea, King Josiah intercepted and engaged the Egyptian army, but was overtaken, and Josiah perished in the row, known as the Battle of Miggido in 609 BCE.

The Egyptians went north to ally with the Assyrians, who had moved their capital city no less than three times due to Babylonian sackings. The Egyptian-Assyrian army would indeed finally loose to the Babylonian forces under Nebuchadnezzar II four years later at the decisive battle of Carchemish.

Casey (Kefira) McCarty is a published author living in Ohio. She is the Assistant Director of the Columbus Idea Foundry, a community workshop space, and is an artisan who crafts jewelry, Judaica and fine art available online and in Central Ohio galleries and boutiques. You can find her online shop at www.sinemetudesigns.etsy.com