The long awaited saga Steampunk Torah continues with Rivkah Raven’s new chapters: Noah, Lech Lecha and Vayeira.
Not familiar with Steampunk Torah? Check out the unfolding saga here at PunkTorah.org.
Click below to download the newest chapters:
Beshalach is a tough one not because of moral ambiguity but because the most recognizable Torah tale takes place right here in this week’s portion. Yep this week Moses parts a large body of water and if that is not enough sweetens water to quench thirst, negotiates for daily quail, and survives an impressive endurance test during a battle with the Amalekites.
My Dvar for this week is deliberately short because we all know this portion better than any other and since Circle Pit the Bimah is a reference to a hardcore punk dance move it is appropriate to have a least one brief parsha.
So here we go, Beshalach is about being a leader and focal point for our Jewish communities. Unlike the Shoah we do not have individual accounts of triumph and tragedy we have Moses being the focal point as the leader and with Hashem as provider, we have Miriam as the feminine focal point leading the dance, we have Aaron and Hur being focal points of support. Be Jewish, be yourself, be the focal point.
In this week’s podcast, Patrick (with cohost Stefanie) respond to the outrage over the Atlanta Jewish Times article suggesting that Israel may want to assassinate President Obama. Patrick also answers your questions about rabbinical school!
Click here to listen to this week’s podcast.
Never read Taste & See? Catch up on Laura Cooper’s Jewish conversion
comic start and follow up, “one year later“.
Position: Spring Intern, Part Time (6-8 hours/week)
Timeframe: Spring 2012 (March 5th – June 1st, 2012). Additional intern opportunity available in the summer.
Description:
This unique internship opportunity will allow a hard-working, self-motivated, creative individual to work with PunkTorah’s entire network of projects to advance Jewish spirituality and community.
Our goal is to help you learn everything you need to know to start your own non-profit, web company or multimedia project. Be prepared to learn more than any classroom will ever teach you.
Some exciting things include: WordPress website development, podcasting, graphic design, social media, creative writing, non-profit management, business/job skills, and of course, Jewish studies. Experience in these areas preferred, but not required.
Including the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of thousands of people and to learn job skills, interns will also receive free tickets to Jewish events, merchandise such as CDs and books, and upon completion of internship, letters of recommendation to schools and employers.
Interns will work out of our new office two days a week for four hours each day assisting Patrick Aleph as well as via Skype/phone with volunteers around the world. We honor all Jewish and secular holidays and will work with you to craft a consistant work schedule that is best for you and for the organization. Candidates must have reliable transportation and a commitment to PunkTorah’s values.
Please email a short resume and an email explaining why you are applying for this internship to patrick@punktorah.org.
If you have never been to a Limmud, you are missing out!
Limmud Chicago’s family friendly annual festival of Jewish learning will be held February 19th at the University of Illinois Chicago Student Center East. This all day event includes dozens of lectures, discussion groups, workshops and films on all things Jewish. Participants come from all backgrounds, all ages and all levels of observance. It’s an exciting opportunity to push the boundaries of what Judaism means to you – and your family.
Go to www.limmudchicago.com for more details and registration information. Interested in reserving a time for being interviewed for The G-d Project? Click here to email us.
Judaism is monotheistic period. This means everything, or lack thereof, emanates from one source, Hashem. Whether it is righteousness, wickedness, or something in between the root, the seed, the source is the same and never wavering. We as human beings are created in Hashem’s image and this does not mean He looks like us externally but that we encapsulate pure dualism just like Him. Every act, belief, and feeling we have is only present because its opposite is not acted upon. Sure we exist but we emanate good and evil based on our will just like our creator.
Passover is the perfect lesson to explain the compulsions of good versus evil we all have seeded inside of us. In fact this week’s portion is the blossomed fruit matured from the seed sprouting out of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. The Hebrews marking their door posts is a conscious choice to do good when faced with doing evil. This choice to mark themselves apart saves their sons and leads directly towards breaking the yoke of bondage. The Egyptians refusal to do the right thing results in the evil inclination running rampant in their hearts and minds leading to death, sorrow, anger, and the lust for vengeance. Such a heavy portion.
Bo is the perfect moral lesson to carry as a reminder while navigating all of life’s temptations. Sometimes we are the ancient Hebrew yearning to cast off the burden of evil inclinations and sometimes we are the ancient Egyptian willfully afflicting those around us. Bo is more than just the first Passover it is the morality of where we as human beings created in the divine image of Hashem exist. Actions have consequences and only you the individual can choose which path to take.
Jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @CirclePitBimah
Tree of Life Concept by Ketzirah
When most people think of Shevat, they think of Tu b’Shevat, the “new year” of the trees. Tu b’Shevat is one of the four new years in the Jewish religion. What began thousands of years ago as a tax day on fruit trees, has grown into the Jewish arbor day and/or a spiritual opportunity to explore new growth and our connection to the environment. Like so many of our holidays there are so many layers, so Tu b’Shevat can offer an amazing array of in-roads to exploring Jewish practice.
Tree Planting
It’s no wonder that Jews love Tu b’Shevat, after all we call the Torah the “tree of life.” In ancient Israel we even planted trees when children were born to commemorate their birth and then these trees were used as the chuppah poles at their weddings. That’s just one of many amazing tree-based traditions in Judaism! If you want to plant a tree for Tu b’Shevat, there are lots of organizations that you can donate to that will help you with that, since it’s a lousy time of year to actually plant trees in most parts of the world. If this is what you are looking for, then check out Casey Trees and Jewish National Fund. I’m sure there are tons of other great organizations, and I hope you’ll share your favorite in the comments.
Seders
By now most people have heard of a Tu b’Shevat seder, even if they’ve never been to one. So where do you start? Thankfully, there are many free, and really good, Tu b’Shevat seders available online. Here are few of my favorites to explore:
If you are a more DIY kind of person, check out this Tu B’Shevat Seder Outline, from Kolel. It gives you a bit of a mix and match set up that allows you to easily create your own Tu B’Shevat seder.
Editors Note: we will also be having a Tu B’Shevat class on Monday, February 6th at 7PM EST at OneShul.org as well as an online Tu B’Shevat seder on Tuesday at 7PM EST.
Psalms
I learned about the tradition of reciting the fifteen “Psalms of Ascent” (120-134) during the first fifteen days of Shevat from my teacher, RK’Jill Hammer. She has taken this practice further by associating a specific type of tree with each psalm. Since the psalms have become a big part of my daily spiritual practices right now, I’m very excited to explore this concept this year.
You could even create prayer trees by writing or printing out pieces of the psalms of ascent and tying them to trees in your yard. Imagine if you write the psalms on pieces of ribbon or fabric, how pretty the tree would look! You could leave the fabric up just during Shevat, or if you use unbleached cotton or muslin, you could even just leave it to disintegrate naturally over time.
Final thought…
Whatever you do, take some time to appreciate Judaism’s long and complicated history with trees. You might even want to take time to reflect on your own relationship with trees and nature. No matter where you live, take some time to appreciate these amazing partners in life. Without trees, we couldn’t breath, have paper, firewood, and a million other things!
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Ketzirah is a Kohenet, Celebrant, and Artist. She works with individuals and groups to explore, discover, and create meaningful rituals and ritual artwork to mark moments in life.
We’ve started a fun, new Twitter account @JewishLaw. Every day (hopefully!) we will post a line of text or an insights from the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch, an abbreviated compilation by Rabbi Solomon Ganzfried (translated by Hyman Goldin). Please follow us and get involved in the dialogue about Jewish law, spirituality and text!
Do you want to support @JewishLaw? Please give a donation of $5.99 to support one month of our tweeting!
Va’eira begins with Moses doubting his ability and really not wanting a leadership position, and from what the Torah tells us the Hebrews agreed with Moses. This personality trait of Moses I can relate to in a complete and whole way, because like Moses I have made the same suicidal gestures with my career. On multiple occasions and to different levels of leadership I have made it clear that taking the step into management is not my goal and in so many words something I never plan on pursuing. This is not career suicide but it can be read as a suicidal gesture, in reality the incredibly small increase in pay is just not worth the stress of having to be available around the clock while “parenting” grown adults most of whom are many years older than me, and worse of all terminating the income of someone with children. I like to think this is Moses’s outlook as well besides it is not like there are no other candidates for the position, there is Aaron who becomes the head of the Hebrews 40 years after liberation and we learn later on of other Hebrews who really want the job as well.
Moses is smart enough, educated enough, and a believer enough to know the Hebrews will be set free. . . eventually. He knows it will be a long hard road to lead, move, and settle a new land with a people who have a collective body disfigured with deep scars from generations of slavery. Moses’s life is different than those he is charged to lead he understands more and leads for the greater good not the lesser few. Growing up in the west in a pursuit of wealth driven society it is nice to see that Moses’s lesson on humbleness over power is what makes him the most influential leader to Jews and one of the most influential leaders to all other people.
What does Moses’s reluctance say about Jews today? Are we as human beings scattered across a globe living comfortably under different types of government at odds with the type of character and leadership Hashem would like? Or are we so far removed from the Exodus that model is no longer relevant? Comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: circlepitbimah
At any rate, here is Dan Sacks from Deleon on his new album, his move abroad and the perils of the Jewish music industry.
Click here to listen to the Deleon Podcast
More info on Deleon’s Spotify project…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WcFCu5aSsJ8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k372K07L8j8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByVqQa218AU
The Hebrew numbers are vastly multiplying and since dominance is about resource management fear of the other burns brighter and hotter in the hearts and minds of the Egyptians. Enter baby Moses, nothing special about him and the other newly born Hebrew boys except his mother has that rare perfect balance between fear and cunning. Knowing it is only a matter of time before Moses’s short life is made even shorter she places him in a basket and sets him afloat in the same river Pharaoh’s Daughter likes to bathe and relax in; and the stage is set the Hebrew G~d gives the royal family a beautiful baby boy via the sacred Nile River.
Nursed by his own Hebrew mother and loved and courted throughout his adoptive Grandfather’s kingdom Moses truly is the gift from the Hebrew G~d. In fact Moses is Egyptian for “because I drew him out of the water” and he keeps this name for the rest of his life. Like all of us Moses has a weakness, a character flaw, unlike the Patriarch’s flaws he is easily moved to a violent anger. After killing an Egyptian to protect Hebrew slaves he flees to the wilderness finds a wife and is content to settle down and live a quiet full life. Hashem allows this time to run its course before confronting Moses with a charge to return the Hebrews to the Promised Land. Hashem adjusts the spark within Moses allowing him to approach the Egyptians in a way their magicians will understand and respect if not fear.
Returning to the grand halls of his youth this quiet soft spoken man mutters “Pharaoh, let my people go,” and Pharaoh says “no.” Immediately following this discourse Pharaoh strengthens his people’s dominance over our people, what was hard before is now unbearable. The age of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs is unabashedly over and Hashem ushers in the Age of the Prophets with Moses and Aaron.
What symbolism does Moses in a Basket floating in another faiths holy land mean to you? Why do you think Hashem gives Moses the ability to perform miracles in a way the Egyptian magicians will be in awe of? Should Moses have a Hebrew name? Share your thoughts comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah
Welcome to 10 Tevet: a day long Mourner’s Kaddish.
On 10 Tevet, the Babylonian army laid siege to Jerusalem. Thirty months later, the city walls were breached, and on 9 Av of that same year, the Temple was destroyed. The Jewish people were exiled to Babylonia for 70 years.
After the blast of Hanukkah with food, candles and fun, suddenly our commercial break from reality is interrupted by a fasting period and solemn reflection.
To a degree, 10 Tevet is like a day long kaddish. While Mourners Kaddish marks a sad moment, it’s also uplifting, because the actual kaddish (the Aramaic words you don’t actually know yet somehow angels do) are not that sad at all:
Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen.
May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity.
Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen.
May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.
He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.
There is a custom that even in dark times, we should say a few good words of hope. Mourner’s Kaddish does that. And for 10 Tevet, I believe that healthy dose of emo, darkwave and 80′s music will be the light at the end of the tunnel. So here’s a YouTube music video list that I hope will make 10 Tevet a little more tolerable. Have a meaningful fast.
The Cure – Boy’s Don’t Cry
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n547VhR1aRY
The Mars Volta – Eriatarka
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjAltxAWTRk
Feeding Fingers – Manufactured Missing Children
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JB6WQh6YylA
Sunny Day Real Estate – 8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XS_tfEjoiss
New Order – Regret
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_r4QGJpsYaE
As in life dualism places an integral role within Judaism, and at no other time is the clash between religious observance and secular life more evident than as it is with Joseph. Joseph is the patriarch who represents a secular life accompanied by belief in fact our holiday of Hanukkah which is observed during Joseph’s Torah portions is a holiday founded around that clashing of the religious and secular worlds. Very fitting, why is all of this important? Vayechi continues this tradition, Israel blesses Joseph’s sons out of order defying the normal process, Joseph returns Israel’s body to the land of his forefathers for a religious burial, and Joseph stays in Egypt and when he dies is interred under Egyptian customs.
Even today it seems most of the time the secular minded of us are attacking the fundamental foundations of the more religious Jew’s life by trying to impose a different set of day to day values than what they are used to. Depending on where you live the orthodox do the same to us, and unfortunately this will never change. Sometimes a marriage will occur between both worlds other times it may seem we are more cruel to each other than our enemies are to us. We will never be without the other. Eden is the only place within creation where there are only two mitzvot the first is just live and the other is do not eat the fruits of this one tree. If we were all Rabbinic Torah masters what need would we have for the Torah and Jewish fellowship the same is true if we are all righteous secular Jews.
The world we live in demands a Torah and that will never change, what we can change is how we approach the other side. The reasoning which might sway me probably will not work on my polar opposite and it is arrogant to think the same is true when the situation is reversed. I will always need a Rabbi because I am not a Rabbi, just as a Rabbi will always need a student so that he can be a Rabbi.
Where do you think a person should draw a line, if any, between religious and secular pursuits? Have you ever felt singled out for attack by the other side of the same family? We want to hear from you. Comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah.
Now, before you panic, yes — many kinds of divination are … frowned upon in Jewish tradition. Of course, if it’s the BESHT doing it — it doesn’t count. But I’m not the BESHT. Several sources, including the Encyclopedia of Jewish Myth, Magic, and Supersitiion, call the Jewish tradition of bibliomancy “Sheilat Sefer” (שאלת ספר). Sheilat Sefer simply means, “Question a Book.” This makes sense since dream interpretation is often called Sheilat Halom – Question a Dream (שאלת חלום).
Techniques like Sheilat Sefer allow us to tap into our deep intuition, and open ourselves to the wisdom of the Divine. They allow us to move beyond our rational minds to finds ideas, answers, or inspiration. Technically you could use any book for this practice, but traditionally it’s done with either a Chumash (The Five Books of Moses) or The Book of Psalms. But there’s a host of other amazing Jewish (and not Jewish) texts that can provide a powerful experience. Personally, as the folks at OneShul found out, I like to use the Encyclopedia of Jewish Symbols by Ellen Frankel. I think the Perek Shirah, the Song of Nature, is another fabulous Jewish text to use for this practice
Curious? Want to give Sheilat Sefer a try? It’s pretty easy. Just grab a book, and flip randomly to a page. Then either without looking put your finger on something and read, or use whatever your eyes first fall upon. Don’t cheat — that’s really not the way to go. Just read and see what thoughts, feelings, or images the words bring up for you. This all works a bit better if you clear your mind, maybe state your Kavanah (intention) or question, and even give a little prayer to center yourself. Be sure to also give a prayer of thanks for the wisdom received — even if you don’t feel like you got much!
Want to learn more? Check out these articles
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Ketzirah is a Kohenet, Celebrant, and Artist. She works with individuals and groups to explore, discover, and create meaningful rituals and ritual artwork to mark moments in life.
It’s a decision I have gone back-and-forth on for several years. Soon, I will blog about why I made this decision, where I am going, the impact that I feel it will have on PunkTorah (none, but that’s a whole other story), and all the misadventures along the way.
Before I start shooting my mouth off with everything that is going on, here’s a fun video just to celebrate this new phase of things. Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-s3aw0GZKY
Joseph up until this point is the quintessential conservative archetype, he worked hard building himself up in wealth and power while maintaining an uncompromising stance in blind faith and “got over” being a slave and prisoner. The Joseph of Vayigash is the polar opposite of this approach, he provides land for his reconciled family to live on using his status as a statesmen, he also negotiates with the populace securing all the land and resources in Egypt for Pharaoh and his government creating a socialized large government, and it works with great success.
What really stood out to me this week is what transpires at the end of the Parsha, where Joseph barters back the land of Egypt from the locals for Pharaoh. As much as I might try to block out what is about to happen in the coming week’s portions in regards to the Hebrews in Egypt I just can not do it. People are not born racist, they are taught racism and yet in a way you can’t teach racism because when you think about it being racist is an impossible state of being for humans what is not is being an “economist.” Living my entire life in the United States stereotypically Jews and East Asians are viewed as smart and crafty but not industrious, anyone with black or brown skin is often portrayed as lazy and dim witted and of course not industrious. The industrious people of American society are the white Christians all of whom have built and maintain the only world super power. This is all ridiculous non-sense but we can see a parallel with our modern society and ancient Egypt. The Torah never mentions Joseph hiding the fact he was a foreign ex-slave who served hard time in prison, because he was able to provide for everyone he was excepted and loved as was his tribe by proxy. As the generations passed the Egyptians forgot about how Joseph showed mercy and treated all like a brother and his kinsmen became the others of society and thus a liability.
What do you think? Was Joseph driven by mercy? How has your views on other cultures within your own changed over the years? Please share post a comment below or send me a message jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: circlepitbimah.
When Adam and Eve ate of the fruit one of the seeds they swallowed was that of privilege and conceit. We all have this seed embedded within in us from birth, but like all seeds for the weed to sprout and grow it must be tended to by a dutiful gardener tending flowers. The remnant of Jacob left in Israel watered, pruned, and nurtured this seed within Joseph causing the weed’s root to sink through his heart piercing his soul. When a weed is that embedded plucking it is no easy feat only completely removing the root will remedy the unwanted affliction.
The only hope for Joseph is an extreme one, sold out of jealousy into slavery by his brothers, he works his way into as good of a situation as a slave can. Due to lust he is cast into prison only to once again make a positive impression with his fellow inmates. The sin of forgetfulness rears its head leaving Joseph abandoned behind bars for a couple more years. Finally, Joseph’s crop of privilege and conceit has withered and been plucked from his soul, mind, and body, he is redeemed and ready for his place as a lynchpin in the Patriarchal succession within Judaism.
Only by the grace of Hashem is Joseph pulled from prison after interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams predicting 7 bountiful years followed by 7 lean years. He shaves his beard…OH NO!!! marries a nice Egyptian girl…WHA WHA WHAT! and starts a very successful and important career as a freed man.
After what seems to be a long agonizing journey Joseph is complete. He has the spiritual integrity, the physical confidence, and the mental wisdom to provide for everyone in the region. Joseph knows what’s coming in just a few short years and yet he is mature enough to start a happy family in the present while working to provide for their needs in the near future. When the 7 lean years arrive and people start to go hungry, because of Joseph Egypt becomes the humanitarian capital of the ancient world. The balance Joseph has achieved within himself has allowed him to enjoy the present while preparing for the future, but what about his past?
No truly complete person can live only in the present with a nod to a prosperous future without coming to terms with lessons learned from their past. Joseph is no exception. When his brothers come to Egypt to purchase food he recognizes them immediately and manages the situation in a way where he will not neglect his duties but will still be reunited with his beloved elderly father. Joseph at this point in his life knows what happened in his past is not all his fault or his fathers or even his brothers. He knows they all played a part in the evil that transpired this realization alone allows for him to finally be reunited with his family.
The concept of patron saints is foreign to Judaism, however if it was part of our tradition I feel Joseph would play a much more prominent role in some circles. I feel a bond with him which I haven’t felt until this week. Like Joseph I do not live in Israel, in fact I am happy living in the southwest region of the United States. Like Joseph I have a Hebrew name and a “Gentile” name. Like Joseph I have been in serious relationships with non-Jews and while in them never compromised my beliefs (don’t worry Kosher Gals I am currently on the market wink wink!) . Most importantly, like Joseph I like to think of myself as someone striving for balance in all aspect of my life.
How have you reconciled your past, present, and future? Where do you struggle when it comes to balancing the mind, body, and spirit? Does being orthodox help solve these problems? Reflect and grow and share. Comment below or send me a message
jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: CirclePitBimah
“Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
— G.K. Chesterton
I picked up this picture and quote from my friend Aaron, who runs at OpenSource Judaism (click over there and say ‘hi’. Also congratulate him on his new baby.). It reminded me of a similar quote from my friend and teacher Naomi Chase.
She was talking about Chanukah, and the various narratives around it. Being a stuck up know-it-all at the beginning of what was to be a long (and ongoing) Jewish learning experience, I wanted my Chanukah information unvarnished and honest. No more baby stories about oil. I knew better.
Naomi listened to my dissertation, nodding in understanding. I was proud that I had learned the grown-up version of the holiday. I didn’t need any babyish…
“What about the miracle?” she asked.
I was at a loss. I had just explained that the miracle story about the oil was added later.
“Yes,” she continued. “But as much as some scholars – ancient or modern – might have been prone to either equivocation or exaggeration, they weren’t in the habit of publicly pronouncing a miracle from God where there was none.” she stated. “If our liturgy talks about miracles as explicitly as it does, then it is incumbent on us – even though we *are* adults and not babies – to determine why they would add that language. The Jews have won a lot of military conflicts through the years, and none of the rest of them have this kind of attention. So I’m asking again: What about the miracle? Al Ha-Nissim and all that, ‘We thank you for the miracles’. What miracle are they talking about?”
Deflated and defeated (but now curious as well), my meager supply of Jewish knowledge used up, I replied “I got nuthin.”
And that’s when she laid it on me. The quote that matches Mr. Chesterton’s above:
“The miracle we find in the story of Chanukah isn’t whether oil lasted for one day, or three, or eight.
It’s that, after all they had been through and all they knew could befall them in the coming weeks and years,
the people still chose to light the menorah in the first place.”
I’ve since connected with the idea that this is the reason we light the candles each year. Not because we are re-enacting the first oil crisis to hit the middle east. No, we are recreating the act that mattered:
The Jewish people: some alienated from their own faith by years of assimilation, others polarized into fanaticism in an effort survive when other groups had been consumed, and still others trying to reconcile where they stand day by day, moment by moment. Both groups healing from hurts (real or perceived) inflicted on them by the other – those people still felt it was worthwhile to clean up their holiest space, to set things right again, and to observe an ancient practice not because they were obsessively holding onto the past, not because they were fearful of anything new, but because they believed it was an essential part of who they were.
More importantly, they believed it was important to express – visibly and publicly – that belief in who they were.
I recognize that many things are the same today as it was then. In the spectrum of the Jewish people, some of us have assimilated, some have clung to tradition, some are in motion between those two points. All of us have an emotional stake in where we are and where we want to be. In our varying views we haven’t always been gracious or supportive or even polite to the other. Hurts – real or perceived – remain unhealed. The Holy Temple – our spiritual center-point that exists today in our heart rather than any fixed place on the planet – still needs to be put back in order.
But this year most of us (even those who have lost hold of any of our other traditions) will stand again in front of our Chanukiah – a reflection of the Temple’s menorah during that initial moment of dedication after destruction. If we reading carefully, the abrupt shift in tense – from past to present – will not be lost on us.
Al Ha-Nissim…
“And [we thank You] for the miracles, for the redemption, for the mighty deeds, for the saving acts, and for the wonders which You have wrought for our ancestors in those days, at this time“
(Originally posted on The EdibleTorah)
In other news, thousands of children die every year from drinking unsanitary water, starving, suffering from diseases we cure with a quick ride to Walgreens and getting blown away by terrorists and dictators.
Who cares about Matisyahu’s beard? Apparently 125 people…because that’s the number of people who wrote on his wall comments like, “what, are there only 612 mitzvos now?” and “so have you given up on your faith?”
I have a challenge to the people who are so bored with life that they have to talk lashon hara on Matisyahu’s website: if you are so angry about him “doing off the derech” (which he never claimed he was), then donate $18.00 for every hair he shaved off his face to a charity that helps children and their mommies around the world. HaShem will be delighted that you are doing such amazing work, so much that he’d thank Matisyahu for shaving!
Vayeshev is the story of Joseph, his coat, his many brothers, his relationship with Mr. and Mrs. Potiphar, and his interactions with the chief Baker and Butler of Pharaoh’s court. If that is not enough for you an interlude involving Judah, his daughter-in-law and the conception and birth of their twin sons Zerah and Perez takes place.
Maybe I approached this week’s portion with a cocky naivety, can you blame me? Vayeshev’s brim is overflowing with people who can just as easily play the hero as well as the villain. All four chapters are full of jealousy, deceit, envy, and self centeredness only to be garnished with modesty, self realization, spiritual growth, and overcoming the hurdles of life, and yet I have nothing insightful to share. In fact I had for lack of a better term an Anti-Vayeshev week. I had a great week. I work from home the majority of the time so when it snowed I was happy to camp out indoors and admire the winter wonderland from my windows and balcony. A couple days after being snowed in the temperature dropped to single digits during the day and sub-zero temperatures over night, again no worries my home is warm and I didn’t have to venture out. Towards the end of the week I went to a surprise party for my best friend, and I received a lot of recognition from my boss for going above and beyond this past year for the company I consult for. I lead a rough life.
As one week ends and the next begins I am looking forward to gleaning spiritual nutrition from the various commentaries I listen to and read which will only help me grow in a way where any arrogance sprouting within me will be plucked like a weed in a garden before causing ill intent in others, where I will not let jealousy drive my actions, and where I will have the foresight to avoid acts which will later result in being outed as a hypocrite.
How does the lessons found within Vayeshev aid you in your day to day acts? What advice can you offer the rest of us? We want to know comment below or send me a message. jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: CirclePitBimah.
Ketzirah in the Fairy Lights (c 2000)
So I’m sitting here listening to Matisyahu rock it on the Miracle remix EP and thinking about Hanukkah. I’ve been having this nearly heretical thought lately. I know, not shocking for me — but go with it.
Hanukkah is the festival of lights – right?
The solstice aspect and the reviving of the light is even older than the Maccabee aspect, if you think about it. There’s certainly ancient midrash about Adam at the solstice and such. The central ritual activity is lighting the 9-branch menorah called a Hanukkiah. Just about everything else we added on over the centuries, which is just fine.
But let’s go back to that light thing again. It’s the festival of lights….
Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking about. All those super pretty lights, preferably the white ones – not the tacky color ones, that our Christian neighbors put up this time of year. Yeah…we have the festival of lights, but they put up the lights? I know it could be seen as the height of assimilation, but what if we adopted white lights on our homes too. It seems like the urge to put all those lights and candles up all springs from a deep mythic place where we are all afraid of the dark. Where we’re all afraid that the sun really won’t come back and it will just keep getting darker and darker.
I know when I walk home during the winter I’m so grateful for all those lights. They push back the darkness. The remind me, even the tacky ones, that I have neighbors and I’m not alone in the world. Someone must be there to make those lights happen right?
Trust me, I’m not for the Christmas-ization of Hanukkah. I had a “Hanukkah Bush” when I was a kid. It makes me a bit ill in retrospect. There’s just no way that tacky white plastic tree had anything to do with the Jewish wheel of the year. But lights I think we have a pretty valid claim on. I know traditional Judaism likes to put as many walls between us and breaking mitzvot as they can, but would some pretty white lights be so wrong during these dark days?
You may remember my friend who was so inspired by seeing another person davening at the airport, that he (and I) got our own set of tefillin. If not, you can read the original blog post here. He’s been busy – both in his “regular” work life, traveling and doing what he does; and spiritually, slowly taking on the mitzvah of wrapping tefillin and taking a moment to connect with The Infinite each morning. But so far it’s been a private affair. Each morning in his hotel room or home, he’s been able to set aside the requisite minutes and then pack up his things and move on with his day. Until this week. I got this on Monday:
“My first time laying Tefilin in a public place, at the airport. I think I violated Halacha, too early, but it was either now or later in the day in CA. I am confident HaShem understands. I found it tough to concentrate even though it was very quiet this early. Hopefully comes with practice.”
…and then on Thursday morning, this follow-up:
“In Sacramento, found a relatively quiet spot but still surrounded by people, first time “in public”,was very self conscience, sort of weird. Actually alerted the gate agent that these were not bombs I was strapping to my arm and head. Did I scare people or cause personal reflection in others, move them to greater understanding or a desire to learn, cause them to scoff at ancient rituals, or be in awe of them, who knows. Is it unfeeling to think “who cares” this is between me and my G-D?“
In talking with him about it, I made the following observation:
I think – once you get past the initial self consciousness that comes with any new habit – it is perfectly reasonable to focus on your experience. It’s not a show after all. You aren’t responsible for others’ perception. It seems very much like your habits of exercise and vegetarian lifestyle. You don’t do it for show, you don’t draw focus to it. You do it for you. You are willing to talk about it with people who approach you, but otherwise, it’s a non-event. Your davening is (or will become) part of you, your routine. If others derive inspiration that is great, but it’s a by-product.
The conversation made me reflect on my own experience with tefillin so far. I’ve been traveling for the last 3 weeks - something that I haven’t done in a few years – and I discovered it to be easier to make time for ritual when I don’t have carpools, homework, or plunging toilets to distract me. Which was an interesting counterpoint to a post by The Velveteen Rabbi, where (as a new mother) she is coming to terms with the challenge of juggling the irresistible force of her baby’s needs with the immovable object of the time-bound mitzvot.
It comforted me to realize that there might be a natural ebb and flow in all this, so I don’t have to worry about being “there”. I should just stay focused on being “here” and moving toward “there”.
Originally posted on The Edible Torah
In this week’s portion Jacob returns to his homeland worried, and reasonably so, dividing his estate into two camps in hopes that when he meets his twin brother Esau any revenge meted out will only be felt by one side. Jacob isolates himself during the night to prepare himself for his meeting with Esau. During the night Jacob is confronted by a stranger whom he spends the rest of the evening wrestling with. Some believe this stranger to be Esau others believe him to be an angle, or a manifestation of Hashem, or even Jacob himself. Whoever Jacob wrestled with is not important what is important is how this plays into to the reunification of a Divine spark which happens the next morning.
Esau who was the extroverted half of the two was always physically strong and being that way he never had to look past the present moment to satisfy his needs. Jacob representing the introverted side was intelligent enough to know he needed time to plan and strategize in order to move towards his ultimate goal. The years he spent away working and building a large family with his wives and maidservants afforded him the time to become physically and strategically strong enough to confront Esau.
As the sun slowly rose and the dawn crept up ushering in the ultimate day of reckoning one hurdle remained for Jacob. . .he must conquer the introvert. Jacob physically overcomes the stranger only to be permantly handicapped yet reborn as Israel.
Israel, not Jacob, limps back to his camp waiting to confront the rest of his Divine spark resting within Esau. Israel, not Jacob, bows to his twin brother seven times. Esau is overcome with what he sees and embraces his brother Israel who is no longer his enemy Jacob. What a great end to a heart breaking conflict.
Vayishlach really spoke to me this week, more than I can every remember it doing in the past. Shortly after starting Circle Pit the Bimah I was forced to come to a head with myself. I was at a point were I felt overwhelmed, in other words I felt like the Greek character Atlas on a bad day. One night I had a dream where I’m in a suit walking through a city which always acts as the backdrop for most of my dreams. I’m looking past the high rise sky line into mountains covered by jungle, and I think to myself I need to walk over there for Shul since today is Friday and the sun is about to set. So I walk and walk and walk never really getting any closer to my goal, finally I get frustrated and give up, rationalizing that there will always be another Shabbat why worry about it. I then walk down a flight of steps into a basement resulting in me waking up.
The entire next day I am not my usual self, more than anything I am mad at my subconscious for giving in so easily the night before. I decided to work from home, didn’t shave or bath, really didn’t do anything except clash with myself. That night I had another dream. A huge floating albino snake slithered up to me. The serpent was approximately 10-12 feet in length and its red eyes just stared at me while its body swayed back and forth behind it. As much as snakes creep me out I just stood there and stared back. Then it happened . . .WHAM!!! the serpent strikes face first into my chest. My body sways like wheat during a breezy summers day but my feat remain rooted to the earth. Defeated the serpent flies off and in my dream reasoning I understand why it lost. During the entire confrontation its mouth was closed so it could not whisper to me and break my resolve. The next morning I reevaluated a lot of the things that where baring down on me. Those I could change I did, those I could influence to a degree I did, and those I couldn’t do anything about I just stopped obsessing over and I have felt great ever since.
The things I was wrestling with while trivial compared to what Jacob had to overcome still forced me to reconcile Jeremiah with Jeremiah. What is your biggest obstacle? How did you find peace within yourself? We want to know. Comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah.
If the menorah is considered “the most central role of all the sacred vessels, for it is the symbol of light,” and a symbol of spiritual illumination — then it’s safe to assume that this is also the role the Hanukkiah plays. Hanukkah is a strange holiday because it’s not only post-biblical, but also two holidays smooshed together. I guess we have a lot of holidays that are two smooshed together, though. Most commonly Hanukkah is the holiday that celebrates the victory of the Maccabbees over the Greeks, and the “miracle of the oil.” It’s also a Winter Solstice (Tekufat Tevet) holiday, that acknowledges the darkness of the year and returning of the light. That’s actually found in ancient midrash, it’s not just some modern “new agey” thing. It’s even one of the stories I included in the Hanukkah Haggadah!
The lighting of the Hanukkah menorah offers wonderful opportunities for spiritual refreshment and renewal. This year, toss away the annual debates over whether or not Hanukkah is important or just a reaction to Christmas. Don’t worry about the ethics of celebrating the victory in a war (and that the Maccabees were total zealots, who probably would have killed many of us too…). Embrace our own holiday of lights at its root level — light.
What do you want to light up? What areas of your life, your heart, your soul need light? Dedicate your entire Hanukkiah to bringing light into an area in your life. Let each candle represent a step along the way, and watch the light grow over the eight days! Take this time to rededicate yourself — to whatever you need to rededicate yourself. Bring back the light in your own life, and rejoice in our very special holiday of lights!
Ketzirah is a Kohenet, Celebrant, and Artist. Her mission is to help others experience the best life possible by connecting with the Divine presence, physical resources, creative expression, and communal ritual experience.
Originally posted here: Hanukkiah: Symbol of Kislev | Peeling a Pomegranate http://www.peelapom.com/wheel-of-the-year/chanukah/hanukkiah-symbol-of-kislev/#ixzz1fPdj3kkP
Almost half way through Genesis this week’s portion reads almost the same as the previous portions just with different names. Jacob is deceived in a similar way in which he deceived his father Isaac, Rachel becomes increasingly jealous at Leah and Bilhah for conceiving Jacob’s children, Laban covets Jacob’s wealth, and Hashem intervenes once again this time with dreams.
What sets Vayetze apart is Jacob’s ladder dream with celestial beings climbing up and down. At first I am a little puzzled that a ladder and not a tree appears in his dream. Trees are so important to Jews of all walks, trees represent life, knowledge, and mysticism, plus like a ladder you can climb up and down. So why a ladder and not a tree? Trees are climbed for fun but ladders are climbed for work. When you climb a ladder you look up or down and then move a rung consciously in your desired direction. Climbing a tree you scurry, reach, jump, swing, and smile your way around and down. Hashem placed a ladder in Jacob’s dream to show him and us that just living life in a way where you just go with the flow while easy is not what is expected from us. Hashem forgets nothing and through his covenants He is being patient and working really hard with humanity to get us back to a Eden-esq or Messianic state of being. The Ten Commandments are being written one by one on the tablets in Sinai they just will not be finished until many years later after Moses climbs the mountain like a ladder a second time.
Today we may have better technology, more comfortable lives, and more transparency in society but at our core our dilemmas are no different than those faced by Jacob. The ancient world is no more or less savage than the one today. Not just in war zones or developing countries but everywhere even in the only super power left in the world. I remember once when I was kid I decided to climb a pine tree. For over an hour I battled with bark in my eye, limbs scrapping open my skin, sap dripping all over me. It was a slow and painful process but I kept reaching and striving for that next rung of branches. When I made it to the top sure I was happy but I knew I would have to start the same painful process to descend. I may have went home with my eyes red and swollen, with blood oozing out of my hands and arms, and my clothes and hair matted with sap but I learned a lesson that is still with me to this day. The easy way is to just stay where your at flowing with the good and bad at the same time. Taking the first step in either direction is hard work in fact so hard that each additional step after the first is just another first step.
I challenge all of you to strive for that first step up, counter complacency and the wicked who are taking steps down. Tikkun Olam can only start inside of you.
What first steps have you worked hard to take? Do you ever stop for a break? Tell us about it comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah
Today, in a display of just how awesome the Internet can be sometimes, I stumbled upon a site named “thxthxthx“.
Leah Dieterich, the author, sets out on an exercise in thankfulness – to write one thank-you note a day. Sometimes tongue-in-cheek (“Dear Meeting, thank you so so so so much for being over“), sometimes funny (“Dear Spring, thank you for making boys want to eat salad“) and often disarmingly sincere (“Dear orange tree, thanks for convincing anyone that LA is a magical place.“), her blog posts stopped me in my tracks.
How often can we see past our own immediate circumstances to find and be thankful for what each moment has to offer?
How often do we take the chance to actually thank someone in a thoughtful and mindful way – not just “thanks a lot”, but actual acknowledgement for what that person has done (beyond what they have done for us) in that moment?
How often do we stop ourselves on purpose, to proactively find something to be thankful for?
If I were being trite, I would thank everyone who took the time to read this post.
If I were in a suck-uppy kind of mood I would thank Leah for her blog, or Seth Godin for once again finding useful nuggets of Internet goodness.
Instead, I’m going to take a longer long view, and thank everything that caused the Internet (yes, the whole thing) to come into being and in a form where it feeds me music and inspires me from so many unexpected sources, allowing me to write this blog post and still keep up with all the other work I need to accomplish before I can thankfully fall into a soft bed and sleep uninterrupted for a few hours.
Originally posted on The Edible Torah
Start A Facebook Fan Page
Get a Fan Page on Facebook and start hunting down like-minded people in your area. A synagogue with only one person is kinda sad. So before you do anything, make sure that there are people interested in what you want. Don’t be surprised if Liberal Christians, Muslims and other random people fan your shul-in-progress. Some people just love friending Jewish profiles. Chalk it up to Philo-Semitism.
It also helps if you already have two or three friends who are as hardcore about this as you are. I am a firm believer in keeping things small and streamlined. Plus, these friends are the people who are each going to invite another friend. Random Facebook blasting really only gets you so far.
Build Your Core
Invite your fan page over for coffee and dessert. Use this time to discuss issues of what they want out of a community (events, prayer times, halachka, minhagim, etc).
Very important: you came up with the idea, which means that no matter how much delegation of authority you do, you will ultimately always be the leader. If you don’t want this position, then do not go any further.
Find A Cool Space
If you have a nice house, then you can always take a spare room, an attic, or some place like that and build one out. I’m a big fan of flex or mixed-zoned locations, so if you have any interest in moving, why not find a place like a loft or condo that is in a heavily commercial area. That way, you can live there, and people will have plenty of room to park. Think Chabad on this one.
Craigslist is a great real estate tool, especially if you are like me and rent.
Make A Budget
The great thing about an indie minyan is that it doesn’t have the financial needs that shuls have. But here are a few things to think about:
Tools For Shuls. You’ll need kippot, siddurim, Shabbat stuff, Havdalah stuff, etc. Can you get these from other people? Often people will have kippot left over from weddings and bar mitzvahs, so that is a likely option. Know someone who collects Judaica who could loan a few things? What about a bibliophile who has some awesome Jewish books? Start with what you have, then work on your Amazon wish list.
Of course, independent minyanim can always get copies of the OneShul community siddur at cost (around $3/book), including free shipping. Just email patrick@punktorah.org and we can make that happen.
Have a vision. Does your indie minyan need to rent a rabbi twice a year for High Holidays, or are you just getting together for a lay led Shabbat? Are you going to start a Hebrew school? Side note: old folks make great Hebrew teachers. Retired Jews are an amazing educational asset to our community that are under appreciated).
Once you have these issues worked out, build a budget. Then take whatever the total is (whether it’s $200 or $200,000) and add 10% to it. Call this line item “innovation”. Every good company or organization pads their budget by 10% for development of cool projects, or bold initiatives that may or may not work out.
Start Having Events
Havdalah is a great event to have as a fundraiser and community builder. You can fundraise on Havdalah, people can bring food, play instruments, kids can play games and watch TV if they are bored. And in my experience, Havdalah is the most underrated Jewish event, which means that even if you live in a community with a thousand synagogues, you’ll still be the only game in town as far as Saturday night Judaism.
Potlucks are a great thing as well. Frankly, I think all good religions appreciate potlucks. They are free, which is awesome as well…and people have fun swapping recipes.
Also, have a tzedakah box by the door for collecting donations.Don’t be afraid to ask for money, if you need it.
Build Your Shul
Asher Meza of BeJewish.org has a great video on how he and a rabbi in Richmond built a shul in the rabbi’s attic. Home Depot, EBay, and Amazon made that place happen! Check out this video below…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoBx7xbEiFc
Get Online — Even More Than Now
OK, so maybe I’m a liberal kook, but streaming your events online is about the best thing you can do, ever. Again, OneShul can help you with that. It’s not hard if you stay organized and have internet upload speeds of at least 1.5MBPS. Heck, even FrumSatire is talking about how Orthodox minyanim need to go online!
Grow, Grow, Grow!
Don’t allow yourself to think that ten people is enough. Maybe your indie shul will only have ten people for the first year, or three years, or five years even. But keep growing! Keep flyers with you in your bag/purse. Put them in JCCs, bookstores, community centers, wherever Jewish folks can be found. I suggest putting them in the token kosher section of your major grocery store chain (the staff will throw them away, but why not??)
Help Us, Help You
OneShul is an indie minyan. We know what we’re talking about. So send an email to patrick@punktorah.org or rivka@punktorah.org and we’ll shoot you in the right direction.
This portion is about twin brothers who when looked at as one person create a deep, complicated, driven individual. The Quarrel between the two is really the conflict we all deal with on a daily basis within ourselves. Jacob leaves his mother’s womb clinging to his brothers heal. This tells us that in Rebecca’s womb as each body split and grew into Esau and Jacob there was a struggle. Esau being the physically stronger was able fight his way out first, Jacob while physically weaker was mentally determined to never give up by clinging to his brother.
As they grew older Esau was manly, hairy, loud, an outdoors man or the extrovert. Jacob was delicate, smooth skinned, quiet, an indoors man or the introvert. The extrovert in the here and now is always dominant while the introvert is able to visualize a goal and piece by piece work towards it only to dominate later. When Esau ate Jacob’s soup he was dominating because he had the soup and was no longer hungry Jacob on the other hand knew what he ultimately wanted and while giving up his meal was able to take a step towards his ultimate goal by making a trade for Esau’s birthright. Later on he tricks his father Isaac into giving him what would have been Esau’s blessing and Esau Jacob’s blessing enraging Esau. Esau’s rage is not at his mother for conspiring against him with Jacob or at his father for going along with the charade, but at his other half Jacob and by default himself.
How often do each of us allow our thoughts and actions to clash within us. How often do you let insecurities stop you from simply just getting better. Better at physical pursuits and better intellectually. There are many times when I am my worst enemy when I quarrel within myself for not being the strongest, the most outgoing, the wittiest. What is your quarrel? How have you reconciled your extrovert and introvert sides? Let us know comment below or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter: @circlepitbimah,
And Ima on (and off) the Bima has once again posted not one but 3 amazing Thanksgiving “seders” for you to use before, during or after carving the bird. Your time would be well-spent to check them out.
However, here at EdibleTorah HQ I believe that irreverence is a skill best learned early and practiced often. So I was excited to find excerpts from Andrew Silow Carroll’s never-to-be-published opus: Company’s Coming: A Thanksgiving Haggadah for Non-Jews and Other Gentiles.
I have reprinted it here, for your enjoyment:
Every year around this time, the American Jewish Committee sponsors interfaith events, based on their 2001 publication America’s Table: A Thanksgiving Haggadah. The contents are modeled on the Passover Seder, with prayers, readings and rituals.
The problem is that while these events promote fellowship and tolerance, they don’t fully convey the Seder experience for a non-Jewish audience.
That’s why I’ve written Company’s Coming: A Thanksgiving Haggada for Non-Jews and Other Gentiles. Some excerpts:
The table: The Thanksgiving table is set with traditional ritual objects, including your best china, a paper turkey made by one of the children, and an animal-shaped soup tureen. According to tradition, the tureen is hideously ugly and is being brought out on this day because the aunt who gave it to you is invited to dinner.
Welcoming the guests: As the guests gather in the front hall, the youngest child no longer in diapers is asked to take their coats and put them in an upstairs bedroom. Parents are to recite the age-old admonition, “And place them nicely – don’t just throw them.”
The Blessing: Before the meal, two toasts are recited: The first, by the teenagers, is mocking and inappropriate; the second, thanking God, is self-conscious and slightly uncomfortable for everyone at the table. (This is in contrast to the closing blessing, said with deep feeling by the host and hostess: “Thank God we don’t have to do this again for another year.”)
The Bitter Herb: No one knows the origins of this ancient custom, but it involves keeping the liquor away from your angriest guest. In some families he is named “Herb”; in others it is Morris or Aunt Faye.
The Four Questions:
No Thanksgiving Seder is complete without these timeless queries:
The four answers:
The adults answer the questions, for as the Talmud says, “Who is the wise person? The one who speaks louder than everyone else.”
The Thanksgiving Story: The guests take turns reciting the tale of the first Thanksgiving. Since no one actually remembers the story, guests are encouraged to contribute whatever hazy memories they may have from elementary school, touching on the following points:
The Pilgrims left England on the Mayflower so they could worship freely in America. Some of the famous passengers included Miles Standish, Priscilla Mullins, Margaret Thatcher and Ichabod Crane. They landed at Plymouth Rock. It was a bitter cold winter. They met a kind Indian – Squanto, or maybe Pocahontas. One of those. The Indian helped them plant their first corn crop using fish. Then they had a big feast to thank the Indians.
No, I don’t know if the corn tasted like fish. I don’t know why people need belt buckles on their hats. Yes, I’m pretty sure about Ichabod Crane. We’re getting off the point here. The point is we have a feast to remember the brave Pilgrims who settled Plymouth.
The Rebuttal: At this point, it is customary for someone to rebut the Thanksgiving story. Perhaps it is Cousin Leora, home from Brandeis, who reminds the guests that Thanksgiving actually commemorates the genocide of the Indians. Or maybe Uncle Stan will describe the Pilgrims as “anti-Semitten.” Either rebuttal is acceptable.
The Meal: Before the eating of the festive meal comes the carving of the oversized turkey. Like Thanksgiving itself, this is an act begun in a spirit of great enthusiasm but, after 30 minutes or so with a dull knife and confusion about the turkey’s anatomy, ends with muttered curses and a platter of torn and mangled bird flesh. Bon appetit!
Light and Dark: Our monotheistic tradition is one of separation: day from night, kosher from non-kosher, Lewis from Martin. So it is with the white meat from the dark. Whosoever shall choose the dark meat shall choose the dark meat, and whosoever shall choose the white meat will probably need extra gravy. Ken y’
hi ratzon
.
Dessert: Unusual for a carefully structured seder, the Thanksgiving dessert has no formal ritual requirements. In some homes, however, the men shall recline to one side, loosen their belt buckles, and groan. Others groan first, then loosen their belt buckles. Consult your local rabbi.
The Conclusion: The guests recite, “The Thanksgiving Seder is concluded, according to each detail with all its laws and customs. As we have been privileged to celebrate this seder, so may we face minimal traffic on the Hudson River crossings. And we say together: Next year at someone else’s house!”
Andrew Silow-Carroll is Editor in Chief of the New Jersey Jewish News. Originally posted on The Edible Torah
We’re so psyched that Limmud Boston is bringing us to their day long Limmud festival to film The G-d Project! We will be hosting a great session on what the American Jewish community really thinks about God, spirituality and everything in between, as well as filming everyone at the festival for our website and documentary.
Expect all kinds of great presenters, panels, and fun music! Here’s all the links you need. See you at Limmud Boston!
Session Schedule
http://limmudboston2011.sched.
and of course, Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/
My memories of Camp Ramah are vivid but fleeting: smiling children dove and swam all the way across the screen as the projector rolled in my after-school Hebrew School in suburban Connecticut.
I never did persuade my parents to send me to Camp Ramah. But it certainly was not for lack of trying. Throughout my childhood years working my way through public school, I craved what those smiling children represented to me: a sense of community, built off the commonality of a shared Jewish identity; a place with people like me.
I first found this Jewish community for myself in perhaps the most unlikely of places – Princeton University, to be exact. I found religion too, and my husband. But when anyone would ask on a deeper, more psychological level why I choose to be religious, or start a family, I would come back to this core, human concept of the search for community (or my equally innate and possibly related desire to cook and feed people – but that’s a story for another time).
Post-college until the present, my husband and I have found ourselves in non-transient, suburban Modern Orthodox communities as young married adults with less-than-school-age children. We’ve discovered that, for better or for worse, the world is not a college campus. The casual observer of Modern Orthodox life might ask: really? Communal meals, organized programming, living walking distance from one’s closest friends – surely this all exists for both populations.
The truth is that my demographic is a hard sell, in Modern Orthodox circles and beyond. It’s not that the communities we’ve lived in haven’t given us a warm welcome, because they have. And it’s definitely not my lack of a desire to participate in local, community-building activities.
The usual excuses for my demographic holding back include our preoccupations with our budding careers and attention-demanding babies. While this may have been true historically and may even still be true currently, I believe the root of the issue comes to the complexity of the concept of community in today’s world. Who is your community? Your 1,067 “friends” on Facebook? Your family and friends developed over your 20-something years including, yes, former college roommates, who, probability has it, are now spread around the country, if not the world? The people in your inbox, Google hangout, or Twitter stream, who you may or may not have met in person? These avenues and more all lead to an inevitable feeling of hyper-global-connectivity, and the Modern Orthodox just as well as anyone else of this generation face multi-faceted decisions about where, how, and why to invest their community-building efforts, and with whom.
The issue of community has become so murky that there are those who declare it irrelevant and passé entirely. I beg to differ, and not only because of the weekly thud back into the territory of the local and non-virtual known as Shabbat. I differ because of this longing I have felt from such a young age to feel connected, supported, and identified with on a basic and intimate level. Technology’s increase of the number and variety of means to connect aids but does not necessarily abet such natural desires.
Given all of this, perhaps it’s not terribly surprising that personally, and rather unconsciously, I ended up professionally fixating on the issue of community and how to build it in a Jewish world, transdenominationally. I want to help people connect on personal, Jewish levels, to answer these needs for each other, and to create more ways to expand and spread this supportive community. I want people to see all the advantages of having opportunities to connect, locally as well as globally, personally as well as professionally – because the lines between these categories seem to be blurring all the time.
Through the process of doing this, I have even found ways to fulfill needs of community for myself. Yet while I have developed plenty of processes for community-building, I do not know of a singular answer to the questions around community – especially when it comes to the simplest ones, like what it is or where to find it. Rather, I believe engaging in the exploratory process is part of the point. I believe that community-building is a life-long journey, and however much effort you invest in it, relationship by relationship, you will see a corresponding reward. That’s the fabric of life, and one I want to teach my children to weave – whether or not I send them to Camp Ramah.
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I answered honestly, “I grew up without religion.” It’s that simple. My parents aren’t atheists. But we never went to church (or anything else, for that matter), we didn’t celebrate holidays religiously, and I never went to any kinds of events that promoted religion, with the exception of seeing the Dalai Lama speak on world peace.
But this was not enough for the reporter.
“Oh, so you converted?” She asked.
This is a sticky situation. I’m open about the fact that I converted to Judaism more than I should be. People who know me, or know PunkTorah, or stumble upon one of our videos, know that Patrick Aleph is a big ol’ ger. Loud and proud.
But does that give anyone a right to ask me about it?
Technically, no. Judaism discourages “outing” converts. Abraham was a convert. All the matriarchs of the Torah were converts. And Ruth, the most famous convert in Torah history, has a holiday surrounding her (Shavuot). No one can trace their heritage back to Mt. Sinai, so in a way, we’re all Jews By Choice.
In reality though, converts are second class citizens. I’m done pretending that the Jewish community treats us any differently.
I have been asked by rabbis of every mainstream movement of Judaism, across the spectrum, if I am a convert. This is a violation of Jewish law, and no one can play the “they don’t know any better” card. Maybe a lay person walking down the street doesn’t know, but a rabbi does.
I hope people disagree with me, because I’d like to see some light at the end of the tunnel.
This may seem like a transitional portion but an underlining concept is present; and that concept is choices. Reflecting over the previous portions in this year’s cycle the choices made form a linking chain. The interesting thing is most of these decisions are made by our matriarchs giving them a feminine flavor over a masculine one. The idea of masculine and feminine means a lot more than the outline on the public restroom door you use they represent everything from language rules to the approach someone takes during real life situations. In the Torah we see where the feminine approach is more cerebral while the masculine is more physical. Think about it Eve chooses to partake of the fruit Adam follows suit. Sarah chooses to build a life and family with Abraham, while he acts out of fear to preserve his own well being; and ultimately it is Rebecca’s choice to leave her home only to, believe it or not, fall in love with Isaac and what does Isaac do he takes her into his tent and weds her.
I could go on and on categorizing events in Torah as masculine or feminine but its more beneficial for each of us to reflect and do that ourselves. Which pieces of our collective history do you view as masculine and which do you view as feminine? Comment below I want to know what you think. Or message me jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter:@circlepitbimah.
In Vayeira the split between Abraham’s first son Ishmael and his younger son Isaac takes place. Two brothers, two nations, two faiths, two names that start with the letter I, and it is precisely that I (or you, me. Etc.) against I . We as created beings infused with the knowledge of good and evil are constantly at odds with ourselves and others to the Nth degree. Call it religion, opinion, politics, or whatever we like labels and we like taking sides. For example, this faith of ours has numerous denominations and right now Chasidic and unaffiliated liberal Judaism are popular while everything in between seems to be struggling a little. It’s so very hard not to be dismissive of the other. Being accepting of the other side of the coin is scary it’s like saying I might be wrong, and who would ever want to be that?
Sarah’s disappointment in herself leads to unneeded pressures within her home. Ishmael is likened to a stubborn animal only because his father’s preferred wife is jealous of him while his mother his jealous of Sarah. He is a boy placed into a domestic war zone by others, of course he is going to be difficult at times. Think about this when Sarah makes Hagar and Ishmael leave their home Abraham is saddened while Hashem provides for them in the wilderness, He even blesses Ishmael by allowing him to father a nation. On the other side of the line we read that Isaac is the son whom Abraham loves. Talk about a tangled web woven.
Here is why this is so important today. Many of us try and foster this ideal of the individual who is diverse and complex yet often at times we forget how to just live our lives with others. Dialogue and debate are crucial for a healthy community, but there is a time for that and a time to sit down, break bread, and laugh with those around you. It is important to live life and that can only truly be done when you and those around you are healthy in mind, body, and spirit. If all you dwell on is which side of the aisle some of your views may rest you will never foster a healthy life. Know what you believe and why just be able to foster that sense of a little bit of Eden while living your life day to day.
Just as both brothers survived and prospered so can we as individuals and as a community. I want to know what you think! Comment below or send me a note. Jeremiah@punktorah.org Twitter @circlepitbimah.
Click here to download the next two chapters of Steampunk Torah.
“Dawn is breaking. A young man a few rows down, nondescript except for a small, almost hidden, Kippah just wrapped Tefillin and began his morning prayers. He covers his head with his Tallit. Oblivious to the physical world he is immersed in a different place. He takes 3 steps back, sways and moves forward again as he silently recites the Amidah. Surprisingly few people stare. Maybe he really is in a different place. Really beautiful.“
What takes my breath away even more than the wording (which was elegant and eloquent) was how this anonymous davening stranger captured my friend’s attention and imagination, which in turn caught mine. Even more, that this stranger did it without meaning to and in fact to this day may not realize that he did.
Like me, this friend of mine is on his own Jewish journey. Our destinations may not lead us to the same place and our paths are distinctly different. But he and I both are excited by our mutual travels. Almost every week, our families get together and we have a chance to compare notes, share what we’ve learned, bounce ideas around.
It reminds me of two threads that keep crossing, only to swing way out in the other direction before turning back inward to cross again. We go out during the week, do our thing, meet back on Shabbat and reconnect, and then keep rolling through to the following week. In some ways his movement has kept me on track, and I think I’ve had the same effect for him.
His email was one such point of connection. It got us both thinking and – although we didn’t intend it – set us on our own paths.
This week, on my desk, sits an old and worn set of tefillin once owned by someone I knew and respected. And on his desk sits a set that is completely new, the shine barely off the thick straps that still creak when they are wound. We are both looking for a way to take our place next to that anonymous young man in the airport, to find our way to that “different place” he found so effortlessly.
On the mornings when time and confidence combine to allow me to try on this new habit, I look down at the winding on my arm and realize that the overlapping strands of leather are a perfect reminder of our experiences as Jews: sometimes parallel, sometimes overlapping, and always binding.
Connecting us to God, and to each other.
Originally posted on The Edible Torah
All you do is follow the instructions at the top of the document. If you are “instructions impaired”, the idea is to pick a line from the Torah (or an entire parshah/section) and write a very short, no more than four sentences, commentary on that section along with your name below the text you are commenting on. After you are done writing that, put a short bio at the end of the document (make sure to scroll ALL the way down) so we can show you off! When you exit Google Docs, the document will save itself — no worries.
The deadline to submit is Monday, November 14th at 2PM EST. No exceptions.
Judgement House, an outreach tool of some evangelical churches, is “a walk-through drama that presents the truth of people’s choices versus the consequences of those decisions both in this life and the next.”
Housed inside the church, your group walks through a series of different rooms, elaborate decorated with lights, props and actors playing out different scenes that showcase the characters descent into…well…Heaven or Hell. The goal at the end of the Judgement House is to get you to be so shell shocked that you end up becoming a Christian.
Our Judgement House adventure took us to Mountain View Church in Marietta, GA, an upper middle class suburb of Atlanta. There we purchased tickets for two (a $10 donation), filled out guest cards with our email addresses, and proceeded into the the walking drama. I wish I had photos and video, but alas, they are not allowed.
The story begins with a group counseling session. This is where we meet our three protagonists, Bill, Tanya and Jake.
Bill is a middle aged man who in therapy admits to having been molested as a kid. His counselor suggests he take up journaling as a way to deal with his grief.
Tanya, played by a slightly older woman, has also been molested and from her admission at this group session, has used drugs, alcohol and sex to cope with the deep pain.
Our other main character, Jake, is a twenty something kid with a slightly embarrassing neck tattoo a la Target Employee (the actor had a painted-on tattoo, so no, I’m not being a jerk here). We don’t know much about Jake, except that he is a born again Christian.
In the play, Tanya storms out of therapy after admitting to having been abused as a child. In the next scene, we find her and Jake at a bar. Tanya is wasted: Jake comes in after her, and of course, only drinks water.
This is our first glimpse into the Christian aspect of the play: in the bar scene, Jake tries to convince Tanya that the only way she can free herself from shame and guilt is by becoming a Christian. Tanya flips out (again) and storms out of the bar.
We then find ourselves in Bill’s flashback to childhood. In this room, we are transported back to the 1970′s where Bill (now called Billy) is sitting alone in his bedroom. Who comes knocking on the door but Mr. Walker, your friendly neighborhood pedophile who proceeds to sit on Billy’s bed. The lights suddenly go out, and molestation is insinuated but of course nothing graphic happens. I have to admit, Judgement House’s don’t-show-the-monster cinematic technique was very, very good. My friend later recalled, “I wanted to get all Jewish mother on him and beat the crap out of that actor”. My favorite part of the molestation scene was that Mr. Walker looked like the uncle from Napoleon Dynamite.
The choice to use molestation as the theme of the play was wise. Other forms of Judgement Houses have used abortion, homosexuality, and school shootings. Judgement House (which is a pre-packaged church product sold online) focuses on non-controversial subject matter that is still shocking, but isn’t going to lose people too quickly. This is wise. I can see liberals going into these things and losing the message when their favorite political button gets pushed. No one, except Mr. Walker The Pedo-stached, would think molestation was a good thing.
Back to Tanya. We are lead outside to the scene of an accident. Tanya tried to drive drunk, and of course, is splattered out on the concrete with Jake dead in the car as well. Bummer.
This is where things get really freaky. Like…woah.
Our next stop is the Judgement Room. There, a St. Peter-esque character proceeds with judging Tanya and Jake. Tanya, of course, goes to hell and Jake goes to heaven. The part that really bothered me was the “interactive” aspect of this scene. The angelic figure called out the names of three people from our group, myself included, and asked us to rise. I did, grudgingly. He then told us that we had a choice between heaven and hell and asked what we make our choice. We never get to choose, as everyone is then escorted out of the room and into the hell scene. I think my major beefs with this Judgement Room are that they didn’t pronounce my name correctly. Also, why did I get picked to be one of the judged? What did my card say that spelled, “evil Heeb”? And lastly, isn’t G-d supposed to be the judge, not some random angel? Oh, well.
Now we’re in hell, which is decorated like a coffee shop. Demonic figures read the newspaper (apparently hell is a big fan of USA-Today). Tanya walks in, and Satan tells her that she is in hell. Tanya gets dragged off to be tortured forever. Satan then breaks the “third wall” by telling the audience that the majority of people in the world go to hell and he looks forward to seeing us there. Majority? Yikes.
Next, we’re at the gravesite of Mr. Walker. Bill/Billy is now much older. He has been looking for Mr. Walker so he could confront him. Crying by the gravesite, Bill tells Mr. Walker that he has found Jesus and forgives him for the pain and shame that he put him through. Again, shame and guilt.
A new character walks into the room, someone we have never seen before. He then offers to lead everyone in prayer. Me and my friend of course were wide eyed, looking at each other with a collective, “why did we think this was a good idea” glare. The man asked in several different ways if the group would like to commit or recommit to Christianity. We later speculated if he was the pastor of the church.
We are now in heaven, which looks like the set of the Trey Parker and Matt Stone play, The Book of Mormon. A very Anglo Jesus, pierced hands and all, is standing with a court of teenaged angels who dance and sing about him. After a Sparkle Motion style dance number to some Contempo-Christian-Rock, Jesus tells us to choose him as messiah. Jesus then walks up to each member of the audience and shakes their hand, welcoming them to heaven. When he got to me, I refused to shake his hand…not because I wouldn’t shake hands with an actor who is convinced I am going to hell, but because I have a cold and didn’t want the actor to get sick. I’m polite, I guess. Two of the young angels announce that “Jake is here!” and we see good ol’ Jake and Jesus paling around together.
We leave heaven and are escorted to a hallway, where we are given the opportunity to speak with counselors and to pray with people or accept Jesus. My friend gave me a nod like, “you know you want to say something, so go in there and give it to them”. I didn’t. What is the use? They think I’m going to burn for eternity, and I’m on their turf. Besides, that’s what blogging is for.
We left, went back to her house, and had hummus and eggplant pie (the recipe will soon be on NewKosher).
I’m a very ecumenical person. I believe, as all good Jews believe, that the righteous of all faiths will inherit the world to come. But I have to say, Judgement House, and it’s many forms (Hell House, Hells Gate, etc.) are the sickest, most twisted thing I have ever experienced in my life.
The common words used in the play are “guilt” and “shame”. It’s true that people who suffer sexual abuse do have these kinds of feelings. Throughout the play, we are exposed to what Bill and Tanya have used as coping mechanisms. The unfortunate part is that the language of guilt and shame are so fluid, that we lose sight as to whether the shame and guilt that Jesus takes away from an individual is the shame and guilt of their coping mechanisms or the shame and guilt of molestation. This disturbs me. Victims should not feel guilt and shame for their abuse and on top of that, should not feel shame for their coping mechanisms. If you have suffered trauma and are using chemicals to cope with it, don’t feel shameful. You have earned the right to that bottle of booze. Rather, ask yourself if that’s how you really want to live…and if you want something else, seek professional help. Don’t feel guilty!
I wonder what would happen if victims of childhood abuse were brought to this play. How would they feel about the presentation?
The black and white nature of the evangelical heaven/hell scenario also bothers me quite a bit. At one point, Bill tells Mr. Walkers grave that he hopes he accepted Jesus in his lifetime. Really? I refuse to worship a G-d that lets Mr. Pedophile off the hook and makes Tanya the broken alcoholic who was raped by her mom’s boyfriend burn for eternity.
This leads me to two points about Jewish life. First, these Christian evangelists have a very clear, black and white message. We don’t. And I think that is a problem.
Why should Jewish people continue with Jewish life? Continuity? The Holocaust? Tradition? It’s a vague thing where everyone decides what they think is important. I like that! But in reality, the evangelicals have a much stronger, more powerful message. As someone who spent years in marketing, I can tell you that a clear, focused mission statement and brand are crucial. I worry that we, the Jewish people, don’t have that.
Secondly, I am worried about how all of this plays into our support for Israel. It’s no secret that evangelicals are a huge support base for Israel. In fact, one of the actors in the play was wearing an Israel/America pin. But if you believe that the Jews are going to hell (like everyone else who isn’t a Christian), then take that pin off your jacket. You can’t support Israel while not supporting the Jewish people. It’s a contradiction of the worst kind. I understand that evangelicals believe we are going to hell. But you know what? I don’t worry about going to hell. The Jewish people have been to hell and back already!
So in closing, I think we should have our own Judgement House. I would call it Holocaust House. It starts with the last few scenes of Anne Frank’s life. We are then lead into a gas chamber where she and her family die. Next, we go into a crematoria and watch her body get turned to ash. Finally, we end up in the hell room, where she and her entire family burn for eternity. Why? Apparently a nazi storm trooper TRIED to get them to accept Christ, but they wouldn’t. And that’s a darn shame.
Sounds harsh? You bet! But here’s the thing: if you really do believe that life, and more specifically, the afterlife, is that cut and dry, then you have to believe that six million victims of the Holocaust are in hell. It’s intellectually dishonest not to. The writers of Judgement House were able to believe that someone like Tanya the Boozehound would go to hell, because she did “terrible things” to cope with her pain. There’s a certain element of “you deserved it” in that kind of writing. If you take it out of that context, and into a context where a completely innocent person is doomed for eternity, suddenly, things seem a little different.
I don’t believe that most Christians feel the way that Judgement House presents the afterlife. I’ve met way too many cool Christians, particularly in the Emergent Church, who would call these walking dramas a sin themselves. I hope for a time where things like Judgement Houses, or Hell Houses, or whatever you want to call them, are a relic of the past. K’hi ratzon, may it be G-d’s will.
The book of Genesis covers a lot of time and ground and that is something very easy to forget. At the start of this portion Abraham and his wife Sarah are young, married, childless, and still going by their birth names Abram and Sarai. We are led to believe Sarai has an attractiveness no man could resist not even the Pharaoh of Egypt who at that time was the most powerful man in the world. A few things transpire (we’ll get to that in a moment), a little more time passes Abram rescues his nephew Lot and gets blessed by Melchizedek. Decades pass Abram and Sarai are elderly and still childless a few more things transpire and Hashem changes Abram and Sarai’s names and commands circumcision, , , phew so much to digest.
Here is why I just can‘t seem to understand Abraham at that time he is one of the most righteous men on the planet. So why lie and basically negotiate your wife for your life and land? Here is a young man in a foreign land with a gorgeous and exotic young wife. He knows Pharaoh is the only person in a position to take her from him so what does he do he says this is my sister and then goes about his business literally. I don’t want this post to be apologetic or condemning I am a different man and live in a different time. We know this deal really really really bothers Sarai, and rightfully so, but I keep wondering just how angry does this make Hashem. Eventually Pharaoh learns the true nature of Abram and Sarai’s relationship and Hashem steps in inflicting Pharaoh with a plague.
The Torah never really goes into detail how Abram and Sarai get over this episode in their relationship, but we do know they continue to live together and hopefully do that happily. During this time Abram matures a lot and leads the efforts to rescue his nephew Lot. In his last adventure it ended with a plague inflicted on Pharaoh this time it ends with Melchizedek blessing Abram.
Now for the final part of the Lech-Lecha trilogy Abram and Sarai have entered their golden years childless, and it is no secret having an heir is Abram’s hearts desire. Obviously feeling bad for her husband Sarai decides to do what she can to make having a son happen. So what does she do? She arranges for her husband to step out of their tent and into Hagar’s, and of course a son Ishmael is conceived. Jealousy and tempers erupt as each compete for Abram’s affection. . . and then Hashem steps in again. Hashem changes Abram and Sarai’s name to Abraham and Sarah, tells Abraham his children will spawn nations, and then tells him to clean up himself, his son, and his male servants down there. Oy vey my head is spinning.
All of the above is why I could just never understand Abraham there is no denying he meant well and loved Hashem and his family, but c’mon MAN! What are your thoughts on Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, and Ishmael? Have you ever felt that Hashem has had to step in after your well intended actions didn’t really end up being so well intended? Am I being too hard or not hard enough on Abraham? Let me know post below or send me a note jeremiah@punktorah.org
Photo: Calm Sea by Hans Kylberg, used by CC-A permission
Cheshvan is a month with no holidays, which makes it “Mar Cheshvan,” or bitter Cheshvan to some (there’s also the reading of the Flood — but we’ll save that for another time). For me, I think it’s a great time to breath and take stock after the whirlwind of high holiday season. In Cheshvan we’ve finished with Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Simchat Torah and all the days in between!
In thinking about how to best use the “time off” in Cheshvan, I thought it seemed like the perfect month to explore one of the myriad of Jewish practices that we haven’t adopted into our lives. If you’re Orthodox, there’s even room for you to explore some of the more modern adaptations of traditional practices. For the rest of us, I’m guessing there’s plenty of practices we’ve heard about, thought about, and maybe even studied — but really haven’t tried out for ourselves.
To act as a guide to these practices and where to even begin, I highly recommend The Rituals & Practices of a Jewish Life: A Handbook for Personal Spiritual Renewal
If even this seems overwhelming, then pick one of these two:
has plenty of great options to help you along.
Check it out…
PunkTorah Podcast with Rivka (October 26, 2011)
This week’s trivia question: who was the first prophetess in the Torah? Winners will receive a .PDF version of the Google Docs Torah Commentary when it comes out (around Hanukkah). Email rivka@punktorah.org with your answer. You’ll also be put on the PunkTorah email list.
It seems that the prayers we say should not just be for those who are ill, but their loved ones as well. Is that not the true Jewish value? What is community if we pray for one’s physical welfare while their loved one is emotional suffering by watching? We should pray for both. Aren’t we all affected when someone is ill, dies, suffers? G-d forbid we understand their pain, that we’ve felt it. However, being the sick or watching a loved one be sick, still is suffering.
I find it painstakingly hard to stand in shul and say the name of the person I know who is ill. I am terrified my voice will crack, might I cry, am I so worried that someone might judge me, that someone might ask who the person is and why I have mentioned them as opposed to others. On PunkTorah, people seem to offer sentiments so freely. Maybe I am committing an aveyrah or not being the community member I wish to be.
Upon further reflection, I have decided to add to my list of thoughts and blessings not only the ones who directly suffer, but all parties involved. We are supposed to value life. Like Israel has recently demonstrated with Gilad Shalit, when one suffers, we unify and suffer together.
May our stories of pain and suffrage end on the note Shalit’s did. May we all find our way into the comfort of someone’s arms we love and may those who are in need of healing have the speediest of recoveries. May we as a community, no matter the size, understand that pain is not a trivial feeling of shallow distain, but of genuine discomfort. And may our understanding prove to be commentary that we as a people are constantly in prayer for those in need.
Again, for all those on our prayer list and for some who aren’t, may you find the comfort that is needed to handle these moments, may there be healing and may there be hope.
Be True to the Streets,
Yentapunker
Why a remix and not a cover? In a way Noah and Company does everything backwards, basically mixing it up instead of redoing what has already been done. Adam and Eve start out literally rooted in paradise, you know cut off from the rest of world just chilling with plants and animals. Noah and his family like the first family spend a portion of their lives in a controlled separate environment chalk full of animals and seeds. What is so interesting about this is Eden is a fixed point physically and spiritually while the Ark is a sanctuary at the mercy of a turbulent sea. For me the lesson is this, there are times when you will be grounded in life and times when you feel uprooted and not in control BUT Hashem is in both those places providing enough while you figure out what steps to take next.
As I read this week’s portion I initially saw a parallel between the fruit from the Tree of Good and Evil which provided knowledge, forbidden or not it gave something to humanity. After the flood fruit shows up again this time in the guise of wine which when drank in excess takes knowledge away. I think there is a lot we can learn by discussing this, but when I sat down to open that door I kept thinking about Eden being a rooted shelter and the Ark an uprooted shelter. Then I realized why this idea kept creeping into my mind. I’m an easily satisfied guy. I’m happy when I’m not worrying. Like many the current economic and social unrest is definitely making me a Noah and not an Adam. My Ark is knowing that no matter what happens I will always have a home, food, and family. My flood is I like only working 1 job and not 2, I like not being dependent financially on others I prefer being financially independent.
Remember if your battening down the hatches on your Ark Hashem is there with you, and eventually the waters will recede. Its okay to be Noah weathering the storm knowing its temporary and will end at any moment.
Let me know what you think. What came to your mind while you read Noah? Jeremiah@punktorah.org
As I read this weeks portion what stands out the most, to me, at this point in my life are three core principles we all experience day in and day out. The first principle is striving for the ideal, Adam is created THEN placed within Eden. Later on Adam must toil to provide for his family‘s basic needs. The second is stewardship, Adam and Eve’s purpose in Eden is to keep the garden “dressed” and “kept“, this means keeping the Earth and Animals healthy and unburdened. Yes, Tikun Olam is that old. Last but not least, loyalty which plays the largest role in the early days of mankind. This last one is the heaviest and most complex and for times sake all I’m going to say is Adam and Eve stuck together after eating forbidden fruit, a generation later Cain’s wife stayed loyal to him despite the blood on his hands, and to this day Hashem has never abandoned us despite how much we may take Him for him granted.
Even now in modern times we all to some degree strive and make our life and the lives of those we love better, whether its working long hours, volunteering, or just always being there for someone that ideal of a balanced perfect world or Eden fuels our actions, and while no one is perfect and without fault we stick together, we forgive, we heal, and we grow.
I would love to know your thoughts please post below or drop me a line jeremiah@punktorah.org
Sunday, October 23 | 11:00 am | $10, Discounted $8
Washington DCJCC, 1529 16th Street NW
Ticket includes light bagel brunch
Purchase tickets at washingtondcjcc.org/litfest or call (202) 777-3251
One of The Forward’s “fifty most influential Jewish leaders in America,” Jay Michaelson tackles the contentious “God vs. gay” divide. He argues that religious communities should favor gay rights because of religion, not in spite of it. As both a gay rights activist and religion scholar, he explores the moral principles that favor acceptance of GLBT people, contending that these values outweigh the ambiguous verses so often cited by conservatives.
Jay Michaelson is the author of three books and two hundred articles about the intersections of religion, sexuality, and law. His work has been featured in the New York Times and on NPR and CNN, and he holds a JD from Yale and an MA in religious studies from Hebrew University. In 2009, he was included on the “Forward 50” list of the fifty most influential Jewish leaders in America.
“Jay Michaelson charts a journey from rejection to full acceptance, from religious alienation to spiritually wholeness that will brings the reader closer to the Divine.”
-Sharon Groves, PhD, Director, Human Rights Campaign – Faith & Religion Program
Partner: 16th Street J’s GLOE – Kurlander Program for GLBT Outreach & Engagement
Sponsored by PunkTorah.
Co-sponsors: Bet Mishpachah, Human Rights Campaign-Religion and Faith Programs, Nehirim, Punk Torah, Tikkun Magazine,Zeek: A Jewish Journal of Thought and Culture
Watch Jay Michaelson on YouTube
Hear Jay Michaelson on Interfaith Voices
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVoAC1asxk4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThvGu4TPk1U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FRiGPs1eTsg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIeDK5zVDa0
Fast forward, and I am at Chabad. The rabbi was nice. It’s Chabad…you kinda know what to expect.
Really, both guys did the same, good job, in their own unique ways. I have no criticism of either of them.
But today I realized something: if we were in a room and I asked a group of Jews to pick the guy they thought really knew his stuff as a spiritual leader, we’d pick our fine bearded friend the Chabad rabbi. Why? Because he’s a rabbi. Simple as that.
I was recently in a debate with a prominent rabbi about what it took to be a spiritual leader. I argued that the world doesn’t need more Torah scholars: what we need are social workers who can lead Kabbalat Shabbat. I told this great Jewish historian, who has written a billion books and is on the History Channel on a semi-regular basis, right to his face, “I don’t give a shiz what you know about ancient Israelite history and near east mythology. What I need from a rabbi is a warm hearted person who will comfort me when I am in pain and G-d isn’t there for me.”
That didn’t go over well.
But to be honest, it’s how I feel. Lay spiritual leaders are given the shaft when it comes to their contribution. Why? Who cares if you didn’t go to school for six years? Steve Jobs (of blessed memory) revolutionized the way we look at mobile technology and computing. I doubt we’d say, “oh what does he know, he’s a hippie vegetarian who dropped out of school!”
Listen, there are plenty of geniuses in the world…especially in the Jewish world. They are all fighting for tenure at lofty Jewish studies programs. They’re collecting unemployment as the pulpit jobs collapse. Heck, some of them are emailing PunkTorah looking for work. Meantime, guys like Mitch are carving out their own place in this world, because they have something important: the wicked combo of guts and heart.
So the next time you’re at a prayer service and someone without a diploma is helping you connect to G-d, ask yourself this question, “does HaShem care if they have a piece of paper and a mountain of school loan debt?”
Click below to hear the noise.
PunkTorah Podcast 10/06/2011 – Yom Kippur Edition
Love, PunkTorah.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiWYT8oSAiE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQ1OM10mhL8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pQsQfIwuok
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nIw175kn494
Here’s last year. And now, this year…
Losing My Temper
I get angry and I turn into such a whiney you-know-what. I tend to let the little things get to me. #Vidui
Two Hamburgers at the Airport
Flying frustrates me. Bumped from a flight to Chicago = Checkers Big Burford. Flight from ATL delayed = double burger from Wendys. #Vidui
Working on Shabbat
Spent one Saturday begging promoters to put me on a band’s national tour…later found out the tour did not exist. #Violate #Shabbat #Vidui
Forgetting to Lay Tefillin and Daven Daily
My addiction to social media is out of hand and prevents me from connecting to God the way I am supposed to. #vidui
Lashon Hara
At least once a week, I complain to our intern or a friend about some Jewish figure who is driving me insane. #vidui
I think the least of people when it turns out I should think the most. I assume the worst when I should hope for the best. #vidui
That doesn’t conclude my list, but it’s the best I can do for now. As is custom for Yom Kippur, I apologize to anyone that has been hurt by my words and/or actions.
So what are your #Sins? Confess on #Yom #Kippur
I would like to tell you about a Jewish summer program that changed my life. The Brandeis Collegiate Institute, known affectionately to its alumni as BCI, is a 26-day program for young adults age 18-26. BCI gathers young Jews from around the world and brings them together to learn about their traditions, culture, and religion; to meet and bond with one another; and to explore their inner selves.
Every day in Beit Midrash, we study Jewish texts and discuss various aspects of Jewish life and culture. Guest speakers come from all over to speak to us, including artists, rabbis, professors, and others. Each of us is also placed in an arts workshop. This year the offerings were dance, music, creative writing, theater, 3-D visual art, and 2-D visual art. In arts workshop, we get to work with a skilled artist who helps us in creating, either individually or as a group, a unique work of art. We also participate in rotating community service projects (Avodah), such as working in the gardens and orchards, beautifying an outdoor prayer space, painting murals, making mosaics, and so on. We also sing, dance, eat and cook, hike, camp, swim, and just enjoy each other’
s company. In doing these activities together, we create friendships, and take joy in creating a true spiritual community, a kehillah kedosha, a sacred family. One of the most beautiful parts of BCI is the shabbatot that we spend together. BCI shabbatot are deeply spiritual and joyful.
I could tell you other things about BCI, but it would almost feel like giving away too many secrets. Suffice it to say that if any of this appeals to you at all, you should go! It is the experience of a lifetime! Applications will be accepted beginning in October. For more information, or to apply, go to bci.ajula.edu. If you have any particular questions that you want to ask me, as a BCI alum, feel free to email me at mybak12@gmail.com.
Posted by Miriam Bak.
I believe that Judaism is what you make of it. Whoever you are, whatever you are truly about, is how you are going to understand the Divine. So the question is this: when you look at these texts, which would you rather do…love, or despise thy neighbor?
No converts to Judaism will be accepted in the era of the Messiah. Babylonian Talmud, tractate Yebamot, page 24B, (20th line on page)
The Holy Blessed One does not favor any one person over another, but receives all; the gates are always open, and anyone who wishes to enter may do so. Shʼmot Rabbah 19:4
No converts to Judaism were accepted in the era of King David and King Solomon. Babylonian Talmud, tractate Yebamot, page 24B, (21st line on page)
Moreover concerning the stranger that is not of Thy people Israel…when he shall come and pray toward this house; hear Thou in heaven Thy dwelling-place, and do according to all that the stranger calleth to Thee for; that all the peoples of the earth may know Thy name (1 Kings 8:41-43)
Evil after evil will come upon those who accept converts. Babylonian Talmud, tractate Yebamot, page 109B (10th line on page)
God says to us, “As I welcomed Jethro the Midianite in the wilderness of Sinai, so must you welcome anyone who comes to you to join your people.” Yalkot Shimʼoni, Yitro, No. 268
Our Rabbis taught: Converts…delay the arrival of the messiah. Babylonian Talmud, tractate Niddah, page 13B (14th line on page)
Ruth the Moabite was an ancestress of King David (Ruth 4:13) whose direct descendent will be the Messiah.
The Golden Calf was built by converts. Midrash Tanchuma, Parshat Emor, chapter 11
The Israelites were struck dead with a plague for the Golden Calf that Aaron the Priest was responsible for. Exodus 32:35
I have a hard time identifying what I look like within the community. Hair color seems to be a metaphor as I keep one foot out into the secular world. But like my roots show the truth, the dark curls provided by Has-em keep coming; I am unequivocally summed into a strong Jewish foundation, roots of generations.
There is no way of telling what 5772 has to offer. We will experience joy, pain, simcha, and loss. However, we must do these things as outward expressions of our faith. This year I became skin deep, but I am blessed with the opportunity to question why I chose to focus outward instead of inward. Vanity serves some purpose I suppose. What the purpose is, only time will tell. Like my roots that keep growing and the makeup that will wash away with the winter’s rain, I have to look at myself in the mirror. What looks back is 5771 years of genetics, faith, prayers, miracles, and potential. Chag Sameach! L’Shana Tova and may we all be inscribed in The Book of Life for another glorious year!
In other words, it’s a job interview.
I don’t mind job interviews. They force me to evaluate what I know and what I’m comfortable sharing; it gives me a chance to really define what I bring to the table, and what I WANT to bring to the table.
Going on job interviews reminds me that I live in an American state with a policy of at-will employment, which means any job can be terminated by the employer or employee at any time, with no reasons given or needed. The reality is slightly better than that: employees usually give 2 weeks notice, and most employers usually give reasons for job termination. But if you feel your job has some kind of guaranteed stability, it’s an illusion. Going on job interviews Keeps It Real for me in that respect.
The parallels to Rabbi Lam’s view of the Yamim Norim (Days of Awe) are striking.
The current year is coming to an end. I find myself in synagogue being asked (by the liturgy and my own heart, if not God) what it is that I plan to do with myself this coming year; on what merit should my contract be extended? No matter what achievements I may have garnered over the year (and in retrospect they don’t look so impressive), they only have a minor bearing on my negotiations. This is all about my commitment to, and suitability for a future goal.
The U’Netaneh Tokef prayer, which asks (in part) “who will live and who will die; who will die at his predestined time and who before his time; who by water and who by fire” reminds me that I live in a state of at-will “employment” – that my next breath is not a sure thing and idea that my future has some kind of guaranteed stability is an illusion.
Rather than give up hope, I see in this a chance to re-commit and re-dedicate myself to doing what’s right. To resolve to make true t’shuvah. As I mentioned earlier in the blogelul challenge, that doesn’t mean promising to stop being bad, but rather to return to my best self and be the person that the world – and I – need me to be.
During a job interview (the regular computer-world ones, not the one that starts on the first of Tishrei), I make a point of stating my feelings about the job. It’s amazing how many people never do that – they never say “I want this job” or even “I think I can do this job”. So I always take the time (assuming that I want the job) to tell the interviewer:
“Not only do I think I can do this job, I think I can do a good job doing this job. And I want you to know that I want this job.”
During these Days of Awe, as I consider the year ahead and all the things God might ask of me, I don’t plan on being coy about my feelings or intentions. Sitting in prayer with nerves rubbed raw by liturgy that forces me to admit I am imperfect and flawed; edgy and agitated by long services and Hebrew that doesn’t fit easily in my mouth; cranky from lack of food ; and frustrated by an attention span which keeps wandering; In that condition I will be forced to admit that my soul is God’s for the taking.
But on that day I’m going to make sure that I state clearly that this job I’m being offered – the job of living in God’s world for another year – is a job I can do, that I will try with every fiber of my being to do a good job doing, and which I want very very much.
L’Shana Tova
(edited slightly from the original, which was posted on the Edible Torah here)
If you are in the right state of mind, the Days of Awe present a lot of those moments. For me, one is the prayer “Hineini” (“Here I Stand”), or “The Chazzan’s Prayer”. You can click here for the traditional text, or here for a more poetic interpretation. But it reads, in part:
“Hineini – Here I stand, impoverished of deeds, trembling and frightened with the dread [...].
I have come to stand and supplicate before You for Your people Israel, who have sent me although I am unworthy and unqualified to do so.
Therefore, I beg of you, [...] Please do not hold them to blame for my sins and do not find them guilty of my iniquities, for I am a careless and willful sinner. Let them not feel humiliated by my willful sins. Let them not be ashamed of me and let me not be ashamed of them. Accept my prayer like the prayers of an experienced elder whose lifetime has been well spent, whose beard is fully grown, whose voice is sweet, and who is friendly with other people. ”
I find myself deeply moved by the private, personal and human tone of this prayer. Many prayers – throughout the year as well as on the High Holidays – are written as communal “we ask you… please help us…hear our prayer” types of supplications. But here is a prayer written for the solo voice.
It’s just my interpretation, not anything I’ve learned formally, but I truly believe this is the voice of the Kohain Gadol as he stood in the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur. As he stood in the small boxy room, a nation’s hope riding on his shoulders and a rope around his leg to drag him out if he died for some undetected sin, in that moment what could anyone say except “You and I both know I’m not up to this job. But those people out there, they are good and holy people. Please don’t let me let them down.”
Weirdly, this reminded me of one of my favorite sequences from T.H. White’s story “The Ill-Made Knight“. In it, Lancelot is called upon to heal a fellow knight. The problem is that, because of his failings, he no longer believes he can perform such a feat:
“Miracles, which you wanted to do so long ago, can only be done by the pure in heart. The people outside are waiting for you to do this miracle because you have traded on their belief that your heart was pure – and now, with treachery and adultery and murder wringing the heart like a cloth, you are to go out into the sunlight for the test of honour.
Lancelot stood [waiting his turn], as white as a sheet [...] He walked down the curious ranks [of knights], ugly as ever, self-conscious, ashamed, a veteran going to be broken.
“Oh, Sir Urre,” he said, “if only I could help you, how willingly I would. But you don’t understand. you don’t understand.”
“For God’s sake,” said Sir Urre.
Lancelot looked into the East, where he thought God lived, and said something in his mind. “I don’t want glory, but please can you save our honesty? And if you will heal this knight for the knight’s sake, please do.”
[a bit later...]
The cheers which now began, round after round, were like drumfire or thunder, rolling round the turrets of Carlisle. All the field, and all the people in the field and all the towers of the castle seemed to be jumping up and down like the surface of a lake under rain.
In the middle, quite forgotten, Lancelot was kneeling by himself. This lonely and motionless figure knew a secret which was hidden from the others. The miracle was that he had been allowed to do a miracle.”
The days ahead have the potential to transform. There is an opportunity to encounter the Divine and leave our old selves behind us. During the process, keep in mind that the amazing thing might not be that God forgives us, or grants us another year. Maybe the most amazing thing is that we will have the chance to stand before God at all.
If that’s your experience, then take my advice and do yourself a favor.
Don’t Go.
How can I say that? Isn’t it a sin to tell another Jew NOT to attend synagogue on the holiest days of the year? Stick with me, because I have a nefarious ulterior motive.
As you fight your way to an unfamiliar seat, I’ll be in that same crowd with you. I will be looking at the unfamiliar faces this year and feeling sorry for the experience they (ie: you) are having.
Trapped in a room where no amount of air conditioning could combat the heat of hundreds of bodies, sitting (and standing, and sitting again over and over seemingly without end or reason) through a service that may or may not be familiar, reading liturgy that is often humbling if not downright accusatory (“we have sinned” and “we are not worthy”). It’s easily enough to send anyone out of the building and straight to the nearest house of pancakes.
I want to stop the service for just a minute, and explain to the beleaguered visitors that on most weeks, there is room enough for people to change seats during the service so they can sit nearer (or further) from the action, or to just sit with friends and enjoy their closeness during prayer; On most Shabbats, the service clips along and the text is one of unbridled joy and peace and renewal; During the year, there is a “relaxed formality” in the room, where we are cognizant of the prayers we are saying, but laid back about kids coming and going, people coming in wearing shorts or sandals, and so on.
But it’s Rosh Hashana/Yom Kippur. There is no realistic way to do that. I wonder if it would help even if I could.
I am reminded, however, of a quote by Rabbi Shimon Apisdorf, in his book “The One Hour Purim Primer.”.
The upshot is: if you are going to be a twice a year Jew, please please PLEASE make those two times a year be Purim and Simchat Torah. Come when there is joy, and celebration; when you are likely to walk away with a positive experience that will make you want to return more often.
“For Jewish kids whose parents only take them to synagogue twice a year, I would like to cast a vote in favor of those two days being Purim and Simchat Torah, not Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. When children – and adults – immerse themselves in the celebration of Purim one of the most important lessons they learn is that Jewish life incorporates the gamut of human emotional experience. Singing and dancing, costumes, fun and all around merrymaking are as integral to Judaism as charity, prayer and fasting. “
You can read the quote in its original context here.
(My nefarious ulterior motive exposed:) I want you to come at a time when you have such an amazing, engaging, interactive experience that you will WANT to come back again. And by the time next year rolls around and the High Holidays are upon us, you too will know that these two moments in time are not emblematic of the entire year. At that point you will understand that there is a beautiful rhythm - each point on the calendar flowing with unique levels of emotion, spirituality and effort; where some days (like Yom Kippur) are long and intense and require mental preparation. But others are so easy and fast that you feel a pang of regret when they are over. I want you to have a chance to see both ends of that spectrum, and everything in-between.
So if you are planning to be a “twice a year Jew“, please mark your calendars and I’ll plan to see you on the nights of October 20 (Simchat Torah) and March 7 (Purim). You can find me at the door, wearing the chicken costume (on Purim, at least) and pointing newcomers toward the cookies, schnaps and dancing.
(originally posted on The EdibleTorah)
Picking up the “awesome” theme from the other day. This morning I got up before dawn and stumbled over to one of the local synagogues to meet up with a few other bleary-eyed Sephardi guys to pray Selichot.
I’ve been doing this since Sunday (my first Selichot service ever – say a Shehechianu, everyone!) although we started at a more reasonable 7am on that day (as well as Monday since it was Labor Day). Yesterday and today, however, was the “real deal” – the groggy and froggy singing that I’ve heard people talking about for a few weeks.
My contribution, it turns out, was to bring “the awesome”, in the form of my two boys (11 and 8 yrs old).
No, they didn’t count toward the minyan, but believe me when I tell you they COUNTED.
Even though they were unfamiliar with the prayers and the tunes (hey, so was I!); even though they spent half the time watching the other guys instead of looking in the Siddur; even though they shuffled their chairs and tapped on the table and fidgeted their way through 45 minutes like any 2 boys would… Even so, their presence had a palpable impact on the group.
The guy blowing shofar blew louder and longer because he saw the wonder reflected in their eyes. During the “round-robin” readings where each person takes turns singing a verse in Hebrew, the men sang just a bit fancier as they watched the boys heads whip around to see how such a sweet voice could come from our wrinkled and stubbly faces.
It was like a Sephardi version of Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel, the story where Mike and MaryAnn could dig just a little bit better the more people watched them.
Before and after the service, several guys incredulously asked me “how did you get them to leave their bed and come?”.
“We get hot chocolate!” they announced, holding up their mugs.
It was a trick I had heard about last year while we were in Israel – synagogues making a community event out of Selichot, waking up together, serving pastries, tea (and yes, hot chocolate) so that rather than struggle through a month of obligation, people looked eagerly forward to (and then wistfully back at) the month of Elul.
In the original “awesome” post, Redefining Girlie asked:
There was a time when you were five years old,and you woke up full of awesome.[...]Do you still have it?The awesome.
But the dvar for this week…yeah…we outsourced it!
Check out two clips from our friends at G-dCast for this week’s spiritual inspiration. L’Shana Tovah!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEOya0ZG0I0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jgNNB1rONw
“American writer Sherwood Anderson was the manager of a small paint factory in Elyria, Ohio. One day, in the very middle of a sentence he was dictating, he walked out of the factory to devote himself to literature. Anderson was forty-five. The mysteries of human nature are endless. Resh Lakish was a robber who became a Rabbi; David a shepherd who became a king. To listen to a voice inside for change inside is a risk. But is ignoring the voice truly safe?”
It got me thinking about the “still small voice” that represents such terrifying (to me, at least) change in people’s life. I am certain it was this same voice which Abram heard sending him and his wife Sarai away from all they knew into the wilderness. It was the voice that told Rebeccah to water that strange man’s camels. It was the voice that called out and stopped Moses in his tracks as he was busy chasing down a wayward lamb.
I remember being both fascinated and horrified when I read the liner notes to Bobby McFerrin‘s second album “The Voice”:
“On July 11, 1977, I distinctly heard a voice inside my mind telling me to be a singer. Soon I began to envision myself on stage, singing, even though I couldn’t hear what I sounded like. [...] So, somehow I just naturally began to sing alone and developed my technique out of necessity – exploring ways to produce the sounds I was hearing in my mind.”
I was fascinated because it was a modern-day version of Abraham’s story, moving away from the familiar into the unknown, with only the vaguest notion of where one will end up.
I was horrified, because that could happen to me. In an instant I might hear a voice that would send my life careening off track and who knows where it would end.
I am, you might say, just a little bit risk-averse.
Bobby continues:
“I gave my first solo voice concert [in 1983] in Ashland Oregon. I winged my way through those two hours, and [...] improvisation still gives me the greatest challenge and the greatest pleasure. I never know from moment to moment where I’ll end up, and sometimes I’m scared to death. Yet, with all the risks, being on the edge is always the most fulfilling place to be,”
What about you? Would you welcome the voice of change or fear it? Have it already spoken to you? What did it say? What did you do?
Here in the month of Elul, as we prepare to stand before God and accept judgement – we open ourselves to the Voice and can only tremble – some in anticipation, some in fear, but all with the hope that we are equal to the task demanded of us.
(originally posted on The EdibleTorah)
This is what the young rabbi said about us. Now, he was actually defending us. We had been criticized for being a secret Jews For Jesus conspiracy (which we aren’t) and this rabbi was trying to set the record straight. His critique of us was, “oh, well everything PunkTorah does is weird, or silly, and the leadership and volunteers have no idea what they are doing — but at least they aren’t Christians!”
I wasn’t sure whether to say thank you or not.
The issue of “who knows best” is an all too common one. I would argue that Jews suffer from Rebbe-itis…we have yet to discover that the internet is the best tool for Jewish learning. We still look to the person who went to JTS or RRC or HUC or Yeshivah Blah Blah Blah to tell us how to be Jewish. This stems originally, I believe, from the Temple period. Modern Jews today are still looking for the Levite Priest to offer us a kosher sacrifice.
But Parshat Nitzavim goes against this logic entirely.
For this commandment which I command you this day, is not concealed from you, nor is it far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, “Who will go up to heaven for us and fetch it for us, to tell [it] to us, so that we can fulfill it?” Nor is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and fetch it for us, to tell [it] to us, so that we can fulfill it?” Rather, [this] thing is very close to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can fulfill it. (30:11-14)
Do we need rabbis? Yes. We need rabbis like we need auto mechanics. When my car needs an oil change, I could probably do it myself. Is there a chance I could screw it up? Probably. So I take it to the mechanic. But in reality, I’m smart enough to do it. I’m just being lazy.
Moses tells us not to be lazy with Torah, here. The commandments are close to us. They are in our hearts and mouths, not the hearts and mouths of someone else who knows better.
Yesterday I posted about viewing ourselves as awesome, and how many of us don’t – possibly because of our belief that it’s not humble.
I think, in this month of Elul, we should re-examine what is “humble”. Because Elul is (as I understand it) all about honesty and clarity in our self-examination.
It doesn’t do any good to gloss over our faults. Equally, it doesn’t do any good to hide our successes under false modesty.
Being humble does not mean never admitting we did anything right. It would be frustrating to teach someone a skill, and see them execute it perfectly, only to have them invent reasons why they did it wrong. At best, your excitement would turn to pity at their low self-esteem. At worst, your excitement would turn to apathy in the face of insincere humility.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly want God to feel either way about me. I want God to be cheering me along and to share in the inner radiance we feel when we are successful. After all, God put that there too, right?
Which brings me to another of my favorite quotes:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
- Marianne Williamson
The shofar is not only a symbol we all associate with Tishrei, but it’s also a symbol of Judaism. Many of us only think about the shofar at the High Holy days, but in ancient times it was used regularly in religious rites.
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(x-posted from www.peelapom.com)
Carly Lesser (a.k.a. Ketzirah – קצירה) is Kohenet, Celebrant and Artist whose passion is helping Jews who are unaffiliated, earth-based or in interfaith / inter-denominational relationships connect more deeply with Judaism and make it relevant in their every day lives. She is an active blogger and prayer leader on OneShul.org and PeelaPom.com.
“I guess I’m just not someone who prays. It’s probably something you’ve either got or you don’t.”
The comment stuck with me because it echoed the thoughts in “On Writing, Not Writing, and the Writing Life” by Kathryne Young (which I had just read, following a link on “There Are No Rules” – just want to give credit where credit is due) where she says:
“My mother told me [...] when I was young: you don’t get to choose whether you’re a writer; your only choice is whether to be a writer who writes or a writer who doesn’t. What she didn’t tell me then, though I’m certain she knew, is that if you’re a writer and you’re not writing, you will never quite be happy.”
Her comments ring true for me. I don’t consider myself to be “a writer”, but writing is something I have done in one form or another since… well, a long time. When I can’t, I feel like things are slipping away from me unrecorded and unremembered.
But does the same thing apply to prayer? Are some of us born innately as pray-ers, while others aren’t? And if so, which am I? Because whether or not we are natural born writers, the reality is that LOTS of people write regardless, and write well even if they don’t feel an affinity for it. Why shouldn’t the same be true for prayer?
Ms. Young’s words drew me back into the comparison:
“I’d like to think that my writing self is different from [her every-day self]. I’d like to believe [...] that she comes out of hiding on certain early mornings when the time is right and the coffee is rich and hot, that she writes a few stunning pages and slips back into bed while my other self drives into Palo Alto to make a living. Perhaps this division appeals to me because it makes me feel less guilty when I haven’t written anything in a month: only my writing self can write, and she’s moody. If the conditions aren’t perfect, she can’t be expected to emerge.
But in the end, there is only me and my busy, imperfect life. The days that I write are victories. And even after the most discouraging, least productive sessions, I never regret writing. I learn over and over that time spent writing is time well spent.”
Similarly, I can’t create some “prayerful me” persona who exists independently. There is just regular old me. And if the time is not right, the coffee neither rich nor hot I still have an obligation – not a nice-to-fit-in-if-you-can, but a real live commanded-to-do-it obligation – to pray. Even when it’s hard. Even when I don’t feel up to it. Even when I’m certain it won’t be very good.
A very health-conscious friend tells me “The hardest part of my exercise routine is where I bend down to tie my tennis shoes, then stretch to pick up my keys, and walk out the door to go to the gym. After that, I’m pretty much home free”. The same goes for lacing up tefillin, wrapping my tallit around me and “getting to work”. The way I see it, I’ve got a lifetime to find out if that part ever gets easier or not.
As Ms. Young states:
“This gives us a great deal of time to follow Samuel Beckett’s famous imperative to ‘fail, fail again, and fail better’. To succeed, we have to fail. To fail, we have to try. To try, we have to put ourselves on the line—risk freezing our limited, myopic worldviews onto the page for everyone to scoff at. We don’t “discover” our writing selves. We build ourselves into writers by realizing that our busy, imperfect lives are the writing life.”
The writing life… the praying life. It has a nice ring to it. Originally posted on The Edible Torah
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Questions to think about:
For a listing of different versions of Psalm 27, see the posting on Ketzirah’s website, www.peelapom.com.
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Carly Lesser (a.k.a. Ketzirah – קצירה
) is Kohenet, Celebrant and Artist whose passion is helping Jews who are unaffiliated, earth-based or in interfaith / inter-denominational relationships connect more deeply with Judaism and make it relevant in their every day lives. She is an active blogger and prayer leader on OneShul.org and PeelaPom.com.
We are so thrilled by the response we have already received about The G-d Project and look forward to you checking out the videos. This is an ongoing project, with new videos posting every single week.
What does this have to do with Parshat Ki Tavo?
Ki Tavo describes the relationship between G-d and giving. We are each to give one tenth of our first fruits as a sacrifice. The logic goes: we were slaves in Egypt, G-d rescued us, brought us to a new land, and now we give our first fruits as a way of saying thank you.
The G-d Project is a similar idea: each of us, no matter who we are, whatever kind of Jew we may be, can offer our souls to G-d. Remember, the giving of the first fruits was a public act. And while some of us do not have a garden we can sacrifice, we can sacrifice our time by making a video that will help others around the world connect with the divine.
So check out a few of our favorite videos below. And submit your own first fruits!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSW2ySJ5WPg
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oW-UUChCMAs
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGHWfdp616M
I was inspired this morning by a post over on Redefine Girly. (“Waking Up Full of Awesome“). It reads (in part):
There was a time when you were five years old,and you woke up full of awesome.You knew you were awesome.You loved yourself.You thought you were beautiful,even with missing teeth and messy hair and mismatched socks inside your grubby sneakers.You loved your body, and the things it could do.You thought you were strong.You knew you were smart.Do you still have it?The awesome.Did someone take it from you?Did you let them?Did you hand it over, because someone told you weren’t beautiful enough, thin enough, smart enough, good enough?Why the hell would you listen to them?Did you consider they might be full of shit?
Here in the month of Elul, we stand before true awesomeness – God – and try to honestly assess our work this past year. We ask forgiveness for the times we fell short of the best person we could be.
But do we also celebrate those moments when we measured up? Made in the image of our Awesome Creator, do we take a minute to say “Hey, I was awesome too! Thanks for giving me the ability and the opportunity to be ‘all that’. I totally rocked that time. I hope you are proud of me, because I am!”
We probably don’t. Because it’s not politically correct. Because we’re taught not to blow our own horn. Because we are told to be humble.
I think we need to rethink that. I’ll write more on that tomorrow.
But for today, I’ve got an assignment:
Tomorrow, and for the rest of the month of Elul, you have the same homework. It’s OK to copy from yesterday’s homework.
Because that’s how Awesome works.
No one thinks G-d is a guy on a throne
There are mixed ideas about G-d’s role in the world
There are loose definitions for terms like “secular” and “Reform”
Read more at The G-d Project Blog http://theg-dproject.org/category/blog
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This week’s Torah portion has more commandments than any other portion, including rules on how to fight, what to wear and how to farm. Different mitzvot cover different, practical parts of Jewish life. Some of them, like the laws of battle, don’t apply to some of us. And that’s OK. Because someone, somewhere, needs to know the right way to fight in a Jewish way. The Torah understands that. The great thing about Torah is that it is diverse. It covers a lot of ground. At different places in our life, we will need different things.
Limmud gets that as well. While some of us studied text, others were hiking. If Kabbalistic self-help isn’t your thing, then take the challah baking class. Perhaps you’d rather drink and dance to Israeli hip hop, or watch a Jewish-themed movie or lead a session on interfaith and conversion issues. Either way, at Limmud, there is something for everyone.
Torah gives us the opportunity, no matter where we are in life, to come home to the heart of the Jewish experience. And the staff and volunteers or Limmud are doing that exact same thing. Limmudfest therefore, is a living Torah value. Yasher koach to those who have brought this experience to the world and may it be God’s will that there be a Limmudfest in every town, on every weekend, forever and all time. Y’hi ratzon.
My mother has chosen not to have a funeral. At least, not a traditional funeral, the kind held in a synagogue with eulogies and accolades. Instead, we will bury my uncle graveside. A pauper’s grave repeats maliciously in my brain.
“No one will come,” my mother tells me. “We’ll be lucky if we have eight for a minyan.”
I want to tell her that the angels don’
t speak Aramaic. I want to tell her our friends will arrive. But, none of that counts. Not right now. Not to my mother. My mother, who spent every day of the last six years visiting my uncle. And, not to my family who spent every day of the last sixty-some years caring for my uncle.
Who cries for the disabled when they die?
My uncle deserves the burial of a normal life: a life with family, friends, children and colleagues. But, a life of disability destroyed all of that. And now, my family will stand alone at the graveside of my uncle and mourn for a man that no one knew.
But afterward, we will return to our house for shiva. There, my family and I will gather and eat whitefish and lox. We will remember our uncle. We will cry about his death. And, we will laugh about his life.
You all should have been so lucky to know him…
Posted by Hollywood to Holy Land
Courtesy of ufoadministration.blogspot.com
Most weekday mornings I hang out with a great bunch of guys. They are down to earth, come-as-you-are, non-judgemental and yet also passionate about and committed to their Judaism. They appreciate differences. They accept people for where they are in the Jewish spectrum.
They also pray like a heavy machinery auctioneer hopped up on a combination of Jolt Cola and 4 shots of triple-espresso.
By contrast (at least at this stage of my Jewish growth), my prayer is thoughtful and heartfelt. It is also halting, clumsy and slow.
Praying with these guys is an exercise in creative editing. I’ve learned that there are parts of the service I can skip. I’ve been told I can meditate on the theme of each bracha with intense kavannah, sending the avodah (work) of my heart heavenward like the sacrifices of old. And of course God speaks English, so I shouldn’t feel ashamed to do so as well.
Are you buying any of this? Cause I’m not. In real life, those sincerely-offered instructions equate to some prayers only half-said (because I have to jump ahead lest I become irrevocably lost), some prayed in jarringly-out-of-sync English, and moments when my “mediating on the theme” leaves me feel disconnected from the group, from myself and from God.
When you are surrounded by people all praying with confidence, fluency and familiarity – in Hebrew – it’s very very (did I mention “VERY”?) frustrating to be doing anything but.
I confided this to a Rabbi recently. “God knows what’s in your heart,” came the answer. “and no matter how insufficient you feel it is, you have to believe that it is cherished for what it is, coming from the person you are today.”
His words were less than comforting. I feel – quite acutely at times – that I am standing before my Creator, pouring out the best I have to offer, and it is an incomprehensible babble of half-uttered thoughts and disconnected ideas. I feel that God has asked for the intricate tapestry of my prayers, and I’ve shown up with a potholder.
I get it. I honestly do. My kids all made potholders at various grades in school (it must be part of the art curriculum). Each one is uniquely cute, funny and adorable. They were given with great ceremony and enthusiasm. They are cherished.
They are also useless, even as potholders. They are knotted, uneven, garish and full of holes. Very much, I fear, like my prayers.
My wife likes to knit. She makes intricate, useful and extremely gorgeous things. We’re talking people-on-the-street-offer-$200-for-the-sweater-off-my-back kind of gorgeous. I want my prayers to be like that.
I know that prayer – like life – is a process. It’s not a single product nor is it a race or a contest. I know that I’ll look back in a month or even just a week and realize that I have, in fact, improved. In my less whiny moments I recognize that it’s happened already, and (God willing) will continue.
I also have had chances to glimpse the journey of others, and take comfort in the knowledge that they weren’t simply born with a talent I lacked. Like me, they started learning on a particular day in their life, and that learning continued.
The other day, as we continued the (seemingly endless) work of unpacking ourselves into the new house, my wife pulled out a ratty, pinkish, mis-shapen square.
“It’s a potholder.” she explained. “I made it the day Grandma Hetti taught how me to knit.”
There may be hope for me yet.
Originally posted on The Edible Torah
The fire started at 2:00am Saturday morning. The family, exhausted in every conceivable way, dragged themselves to synagogue not for pity or charity, but to “Bentsch Gomeil” – to bless God for the intervention which spared their lives.
As it turns out, my family had been invited to eat lunch that day 2 doors down from site of the fire – sharing our meal with several other people in the community. One woman at the table asked: “How are we supposed to make sense of something like this? Why would God cause/allow something like this to happen?”
My first reaction (which, to my wife’s immense relieve, I kept to myself) was to inwardly groan at the the boring, cliched, over-done discussion. Why do bad things happen to good people? Why doesn’t God DO something? (and of course the unavoidable piece de resistance) Why did God let the Holocaust happen?
I smiled and chewed my salad thoughtfully and said nothing. Because it wasn’t my place to respond and because I had nothing remotely interesting (let alone charitable) to say.
But silently, I answered her question with a question: Why do we keep asking that? Aren’t we ever going to get bored with it?
Later on, however, I realized mine was the exactly wrong response. I realized the real question ought to be:
Why aren’t we asking it MORE?
I woke up this morning. How could God allow such a thing to happen? Knowing what a completely jerk I can be sometimes? Knowing (as only God can) the things I’ve done? I have 4 healthy wonderful normal children. Why does that happen? What did my wife and I do to deserve that? For 3 years I drove almost an hour to work in crazy traffic, and made it to work safe each day. What kind of God allows that to happen? Week after week I, too, leave a burner on, along with candles and a hot water urn. Nothing has (yet, thank God and may we continue to be blessed) burst into flame. Why? Why, God, why? For what reason do my appliances continue to work so reliably?
If you are reading this, you might think you detect a note of sarcasm. Don’t make that inference. Read my words with a tone of sincerity, because that’s how I mean them.
Maybe – just maybe – we shouldn’t dust off our inquisitive nature only when tragedy strikes.
Perhaps we should be asking ourselves that woman’s lunchtime question each and every minute, trying with every fiber of our being to find the hidden reasons to God’s unguessable plan.
originally posted on The Edible Torah
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jG7PmMnXyc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ad70jLEsY1g
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=on_dqVWJBJI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fNf44EBkKDI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lb-uT6jQCHU
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ospdJhwsBz4
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvsaeD19Bxk
I would say no. Here’s why: Judaism encompasses a vast range of beliefs and ideas. We have a very spacious tent, and people with a lot of different views about God, the Torah, life, etc. take shelter under it. If we had a pope, or a theocratic king of some sort as is described in Shofetim, who decided what was officially Jewish and what wasn’t, a lot of people would leave our tent, break off, and start their own groups, just as happened with Catholicism, and those of us left in the tent would be alienated from who left and vice versa. We’re a small enough tribe without pushing people away by creating official doctrines and dogmas! What comes of not having a pope is that we are not a religion of beliefs, but of actions (mitzvot) and of a common past (Torah). Parsha Shofetim was written in a time long before we had such wide variations in belief and practice as we do now, a time when having a theocracy was possible and perhaps even desirable. But that time is past, and the most important thing now is to maintain our unity as a people. I think Judaism’s strength and vitality lies in its variety. I love that we have so many flavors: Orthodox Ripple, Conservative Chip, Reform Swirl, Reconstructionist Crunch, and so on. Each one of us may have a favorite flavor, but in the end, it’s all ice cream and it’s all delicious!
Another thing that strikes me about this Torah portion is the injunction against destroying the fruit trees of a besieged city [20:19-20]. I could talk, as many Jewish environmentalists before me have done, about how this represents a positive command against wanton destruction, an injunction against thoughtless waste and greed (ba’al taschit). What I’d rather do, though, is focus on the verse that says “Are trees of the field human to withdraw before you into the besieged city?” [20:19]. The Torah is telling us to listen to those who don’t have voices, and to protect those who can’t protect themselves. I consider this verse merely an extension to the Torah’s constant refrain of telling us to be kind to the stranger, the widow, the orphan, etc. This is the Torah’s shorthand for telling us to defend the defenseless, to help the helpless, and in general to support those in our community who need it. Trees are just another group in our community who need our help and can’t defend themselves.
Furthermore, trees figure very prominently in our tradition. The Torah itself is called a Tree of Life. It is said of the Baal Shem Tov that he was able to hear the voices of trees, and of King Solomon that he could understand the speech of the birds. Our tradition teaches us that listening to nature and immersing ourselves in the natural world can be a window to spirituality, a gate to wisdom. As summer draws to a close, don’t forget to take a little walk this shabbat and listen to the trees and the birds. You might find that they have much to teach you.
This week’s dvar written by Miriam Bak.
Here’s a preview of what we’re working on.
Gad (גָּד), the patriarch and tribe associated with the month of Elul (אֱלוּל), is the seventh son of Jacob. Seven is a lucky number in many cultures, Judaism included, and not only is he the seventh son, but he also fathers seven sons. He is of the line of Leah, through Zilpah. Gad’s name means “good fortune,” and in Genesis 30:11 it says that “Leah said: ‘Fortune is come!’ And she called his name Gad.”
Elul is a complicated month. It is one of the four new years, the new year of cattle. It is the month we close out our spiritual year and begin preparation for the High Holy Days and new spiritual year. It is a month where we turn inward and look to our own hearts and our relationship with G!(d)dess. It is traditional to recite Psalm 27 daily during the month of Elul, the one that begins, “The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” We also begin Selichot, penitential prayers, just before the end of Elul.Elul is also said to be an acronym for Ani L’Dodi ve-Dodi Li “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine” (Song of Songs 6:3). In a fairly complex bit of Gematria, Elul also equals 13 and it is said that refers to the 13 attributes of Divine mercy. (Elul = 67, then add 6+7 to get 13).
But what does any of this have to do with Gad? I think the lesson of Gad is to remember what good fortune we do have in life. This month we have the opportunity to turn inward and review our year before we stand together at Rosh Hashanah. Maybe part of what we need to be doing is listing everything good that we have and that’s happened to us this year? Maybe we need to look at the good fortune of those in our community, and how we can increase the good fortune not only of ourselves, but also of our wider community.
Jacob’s blessing to Gad in Genesis 49:19 is interpreted by Inner.org as, “Gad shall organize camps [army camps], and he shall return with all his camps.” From this Inner.org distills that “the special talent of Gad is to organize a ‘company.’” Maybe that’s what we are tapping into in Elul? Maybe that’s why we spend a month preparing for the High Holy Days in so many ways — so by the time we get there we’ve gathered everyone with us and everyone returns with us.
This Elul, look inward and around you. See what needs to be repaired in your own life and in the lives of the community. Let’s see if we can gather all the people and leave no one behind this Elul.
Carly Lesser (a.k.a. Ketzirah – קצירה) is Kohenet, Celebrant and Artist whose passion is helping Jews who are unaffiliated, earth-based or in interfaith / inter-denominational relationships connect more deeply with Judaism and make it relevant in their every day lives. She is an active blogger and prayer leader on OneShul.org and PeelaPom.com.
Here’s what I gather: circumcision is a mitzvah because Abraham did it, and so should we, right? On the other hand, a circumcision isn’t a child’s choice. It’s something that happens to you without your consent. I suspect if babies could talk, they wouldn’t be too keen on elective surgery.
Also, it’s unfair that men have the opportunity to perform mitzvot that women can’t. And what about transgender people or people with ambiguous genitals? Aren’t we all children of the same G-d, fair and equal? How can G-d put us in a position where one person’s ability to glorify Him/Her is above others? Seems lame to me.
Circumcising the heart resolves that issue. It tells us, metaphorically, to remove the junk that surrounds out hearts, that keeps the good stuff from coming in. Regardless of who we are, and what we have going on “down stairs”, we can equally take part in the mitzvah of circumcision by putting G-d first and peeling away the layers of our own ego that keep us from being truly made in the image of the Lord.
That same week, an Orthodox rabbi told me that he thought things were getting better Jewishly! Chabad was getting bigger, more progressive Jews were going baal teshuva, and that Artscroll was the greatest thing ever for helping the Jewishly illiterate find the proper tools of study.
So what’s the answer? Are we better Jews or worse Jews than those scrappy ex-slaves at Mt. Sinai?
Moses, in this week’s Torah portion, seems to think that things will get worse: . Moses predicts the Hebrews will enter the promised land and turn their backs on everything holy, practicing idolatry and basically just being little bad asses (Deut. 4:23-30). It looks like the “it gets worse” philosophy wins.
Or does it?
Here’s the problem: in last week’s Torah portion, we learned that that previous generation of Hebrews (the ones who actually lived in Egypt) were so bad that God commanded that they not enter the promised land (Deut. 1:34)! If things get worse, and the first Hebrews were not good enough to enter the promised land, then what does that say about future generations?
Also, remember that the Book of Deuteronomy was a lost text. One would think that if the ancient Hebrews were so holy, they wouldn’t have lost one of the five books of Moses, the greatest prophet to ever live and liberator of thousands from slavery.
Maybe we’re bad, and will always be bad? Or maybe things are getting better, but the bar is set incredibly low?
I’m not sure. But either way, as this week’s portion reads, “shma, Yisroel, Adonai elohainu Adonai echad”. Listen, Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one. This simple phrase takes my breath away. All of a sudden, I don’t care if we’re better or worse, or if things will get better. I just want to sit under HaShem’s sukkah of peace.
The curse is that you end up answering a lot of the same questions, and getting a lot of the same reactions. Because PunkTorah is your community, it’s only fair that we post the questions we get asked, and the answers we give, which I am calling the 5 Things About PunkTorah That Will SHOCK You…
1. We are not based in New York City. We’re not going to pretend that New York doesn’t have a gigantic Jewish population. But honestly, there are more Jews in the Gush Dan region in Israel than the Big Apple. And Miami has a comparable Jewish population per-capita to New York, since it’s much smaller. And hey, by most accounts, all the Jews of the Northeast and Midwest are moving to the South. Atlanta (where we are) has one of the youngest and fastest growing Jewish populations in the world. But you can read more about that on Wikipedia.
2. We are not affiliated with…anything! All of our funding comes from donations by readers like you and the few grants that we manage to hustle, such as the Jewish New Media Innovation Fund. We are not a part of a larger organization or any movement in Judaism. We love being independent.
3. We’re not a band. We’re a non-profit organization (tax exempt and everything) that promotes independent Jewish spirituality. We have full time and part time employees, some freelance help and a bunch of awesome volunteers. So why PunkTorah? Well, we do get a lot of flack about our name. And that’s cool with us! The word punk means rebellion and that’s what we are doing here: rebelling against the mainstream, McDonalized approach to Jewish life we’ve been spoon fed.
4. Most people who visit PunkTorah are not punks. At least, not in the musical/fashion sense. But one thing we all share is that we’re a little bit off center, dancing to the beat of our own drummer, who we believe to be the Source of Creation. What can we say? We love the fringes! When asked what our “demographic” is, we say, “people who like Judaism.” Doesn’t seem like an irrational thing to say, but it does illicit some weird remarks from people in business suits.
5. We’re in this for life. We’ve seen our friends jump from one organization and job to another, climbing the ladder of success, chasing after bigger money and more glorious positions. And that’s fine for them! But all of us here at PunkTorah: staff, volunteers, teachers, guest rabbis…we’re in this for life. PunkTorah is the welcoming wagon for people entering into their own understanding of the Jewish Experience. And no pay check is worth losing the opportunity to be here everyday with you awesome people.
6. We love you. Seriously, we do! And we hope that you love us, too. As Mr. Rogers said, “please won’t you be my neighbor?”
Check out the video for All These Years ft. Mojo Hanna that shatters the stereotype that all Jews have big noses but solidifies the notion we all have curly hair (even if it is receding), and when your done checkout Gina & the Garage Sale EP on Shemspeed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppRuVOjPcsQ
Jeremiah Satterfield is the host of PunkTorah Radio’s music podcast, spinning the best in Jewish rock, pop, hip hop, punk and more.
I’m shocked when I hear people talk about the “trash on TV”. Jerry Springer and Maury aren’t showing us anything that is any more perverse than our holy text. Except for maybe this video (Not Safe For Work)…
The Biblical narrative, read literally and without much examination, is not a very good moral guide. No one can take a person from our spiritual history and say, “wow, if only my children could be more like that guy!” Unless of course you want your kid to be the kind of person who burns his enemies bodies like Joshua or uses sex to trick someone into marrying her like Tamar or Ruth.
Everything we read in the Torah is subjective: the Torah can be used to support or oppose slavery, to promote interfaith alliance or religious warfare, to subject women and children to torture or to uplift those who are downtrodden.
But the one thing the Torah teaches that no one can deny: anyone can be holy.
While I can criticize the characters of the Hebrew Bible for their terrible behavior, I have to remember that God chose these people. God not only chose them, but God made them! God also made the guests of Jerry and Maury. Their problems are no worse than the problems we read about in the weekly Torah portion.
So if I can see the attempted felon Abraham, the liar Issac and the slave holding Jacob as holy, then I have to see Pancake, the Maury Povich guest, as holy too.
But now, I’m starting to wonder if Moses was a pain, too. He repeats the same thing over and over again. Like an old man who forgets what he’s told you (and is so lonely he won’t stop talking for fear you’ll walk away), Moses retells the same stories, sometimes adding a few new details, or sometimes glossing over stuff. Parshat Devarim is that exact case.
Of course, it could just be that Moses is responding to his audience. The Hebrews might not be the sharpest knives in the drawer (remember, they were slaves — not a lot of education going on there) and they also love to move around a lot. It’s amazing that JuBus (Jewish Buddhists) even exist, since the prerequisite for Buddhist enlightenment is the ability to sit still for more than five minutes without talking, something that Jewish folks have an impossible time with.
Perhaps there’s something zen-like about this constant repetition of story telling. Active meditation, the practice of doing the same task correctly over and over again until reaching a profound state of bliss, in common in Buddhist monasteries. Remember the Karate Kid…wax on…wax off. It’s that kind of thing.
Moses might have been tapping into that: the peacefulness that comes with practicing the mundane in such a way that we receive some sense of profound knowledge. Of course, it was the Jewish scientist Albert Einstein who said that the definition of insanity was “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”.
Bummer.
Playlist:
1. Girls In Trouble – DNA – Half You Half Me – Jdub
2. Deleon – Mansevo Del Dor – Jdub
3. Y-Love – This is Unity – See Me – Shemspeed
4. Diwon & Dov – Hatikvah – Hatikvah – Shemspeed
5. Darshan – To Zion – To Zion – Shemspeed
6. Moshiach Oi! – This World is Nothing/Got Nothing on Me – This World is Nothing – Shabasa
7. Gangsta Rabbi – Obama Rama Yeah – DiKtatoR17 – Jdub
8. Can!!Can – G~d Lives in New York City – Monsters & Healers – Jdub
9. The Sway Machinery – All the People – The House of Friendly Ghosts Vol. 1 – Jdub
10. Wailing Wall – Dear Mother – Hospital Blossoms – JDub
The town of Scenic, South Dakota is for sale. A tiny, sleepy cowboy town of one hundred and thirty four square miles and only nine residents, Scenic isn’t exactly Midtown Manhattan. But it could be pretty cool…especially if PunkTorah + fans took it over.
The town saloon would make a perfect synagogue, and the town’s two jails would be great part time bet midrashim. And if you get tired of our local shul, you can drive about forty miles to Rapid City and visit Synagogue of the Hills. Chabad doesn’t have a house in South Dakota, which means we’d be the frummiest option in the entire state.
South Dakota has a lot of advantages as the next Jewish homeland. Assuming we divided the town into small lots and got a discount on the property (because Jewish folks never pay full price for anything) we could subdivide the land and sell it for $2,500.00 per half-acre. Not bad! With immediate access to amazing free range cattle farms, kosher meat would be dirt cheap. The lower cost of living means that NextGen, unaffiliated, New Jew web start-ups could operate a lot cheaper than they do in LA, NYC and Atlanta. And hey, all you unemployed yeshiva kids and rabbinical students: if you want a pulpit and to feel like a cowboy, this is your chance. Scenic is also in the heart of Badlands National Park, meaning all the eco-Jews would have a place for their camp Shabbatons. Would you miss your big city relatives? Heck no! Rapid City regional airport is only a forty minute drive!
So who’s up for it?
-Psycho Killer by Talking Heads
This week at PunkTorah, we’re not going to try to reinvent the wheel by giving you huge insights into the radical nature of Parshat Masei. Instead, we’re going to share with you some of our favorite Masei messages from around the web. As Pirkei Avot says, “say little, do much.” David Bryne must be a Jewish studies scholar.
JewU Rabbi Johnathan Ginsburg YouTube
Encyclopedia Masei Wikipedia
Masei: A Case Study in Biblical Urban Planning G-dcast.com
First, it was the pre-Shabbat death of my guinea pig, Mr. Bacon Sandwich. That morning, his eyes were weak and covered in goop. I asked my wife if we should take him to the vet. She replied, “his time is near.” I gave him some fresh romaine, wiped his eyes and he made his cute “qui!” noise. That was that. I checked back on him an hour later and he had crawled over to his water bottle, buried his head under the pine shavings, and passed on. I wrapped him in a white towel and buried him in my in-laws back yard. The shattered pieces of his ceramic food bowl is his grave marker.
Later, my wife informs me of a shooting in Norway. Turned out to be a terrorist attack on a youth camp and government buildings by a neo-Nazi. I shuttered to imagine the horror that the families in Oslo must be going through. To hear as well that the man who committed the act under the belief that it was the Christian thing to do made me cringe. I can understand God challenging me to accept the death of a pet, but to allow someone to commit violence in his name? G-d forbid.
And as Shabbat wound down, and I got back on my computer, another tragedy: the death of celebrated R&B singer Amy Winehouse from a seizure, most likely the result of years of drug abuse.
I’ve had some terrible bosses in my day. Really terrible. But God, by far, is the worst boss I have ever had.
When a Jew hears bad news, it’s custom to say, “blessed are you, Lord our God, king of the Universe, who is the true judge.” Tonight, I can’t proclaim God’s greatness. But God willing, I will find the power to forgive God for his own shortcomings.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iho0JSFX99Q
It has been taught: R. Akiba said: Once I went in after R. Joshua to a privy, and I learned three things from him:
I learned that one does not sit east and west but north and south
I learned that one evacuates not standing but sitting
I learned that it is proper to wipe with the left hand and not with the right
Ben Azzai said to him: Did you dare to take such liberties with your master?
He replied: It was a matter of Torah, and I required to learn.
It has been taught: Ben ‘Azzai said: Once I went in after R. Akibato a privy, and I learned three things from him:
I learned that one does not evacuate east and west but north and south
I learned that one evacuates sitting and not standing
I learned it is proper to wipe with the left hand and not with the right.
R. Judah said to him: Did you dare to take such liberties with your master?
He replied: It was a matter of Torah, and I required to learn.
R. Kahana once went in and hid under Rab’s bed. He heard him chatting [with his wife] and joking and doing what he required.
He said to him: One would think that Abba’s mouth had never sipped the dish before!
He (Rav) said to him: Kahana, are you here? Go out, because it is rude.
He replied: It is a matter of Torah, and I require to learn. Talmud Berachot 62a
Why was this text not taught? Back in the day, in the schools I attended, there were faculty lounges and bathrooms. Whether we were supposed to think that teachers and rabbis didn’t urinate or whether it was considered somehow inappropriate for teachers and students to pass one another on the way in or out is not clear to me. What is clear, is that Talmudic era life looked oddly different. In the text above, not only do a teacher and student pass one another on the way in and out, a student actually observes his teacher relieving himself. The punch line: Don’t just listen to your teacher, watch your teacher. His/her behavior, even in the most personal situation, has something to teach you.
The story of Rav and Rabbi Kahana is even more noteworthy. We don’t want to imagine our teachers, rabbis, and certainly not parents, having sex. Yet, in our holy book, Kahana hides in Rav’s bedroom, observing Rav and his wife having sexual relations. While Rav scolds Kahana, it is Kahana that has the last word: It is Torah, too, and I have to learn it.
What is the lesson to be learned (Why should the text be taught?) The Talmud was not advocating voyeurism. It used these stories to illustrate a fact: The way in which we do everything in life carries a value. We can behave in ways that support the tzelem elohim, the divine spark, that lives within us all. Or we can act in ways that are destructive to ourselves, to others, to our world.
But in order to know what is positive and what is destructive, we have to understand all parts of human behavior and function. It is important that we provide students and our children with the straightforward knowledge of what behaviors and possibilities there are. And we must provide them with the tools that enable them to make holy decisions in their lives.
Arnie Samlan is a rabbi, Jewish educator, social worker and Scratch DJ Academy grad. A regional director of The Jewish Education Project in NY, he is also founder of a new venture, Jewish Connectivity, which works to link Jews and Jewish texts to one another to re-ignite Jewish life and creativity (Twitter: JewishConnectiv)