Jewish – Page 2 – Don't Gel Too Soon

Our Gigantic Family #MicroblogMondays

Two new little boys will enter our family before the end of September. We’re excited, happy for our lovely sons and their wives and very happy too that our grandchildren have such wonderful people as parents.

There’s another thing, that (even though it is, of course, obvious) I hadn’t thought about in a long time: these children, while we can’t trace personal generations very far back because so many records and stories were lost in the Holocaust, have a family that goes back to Abraham and to Moses and Mt. Sinai and to Sarah and Rachel and Rebecca. Of course, we all, biblically, begin with Adam and Eve but because I’ve always known I couldn’t trace our family, I didn’t let myself consider what we might never know – it was too painful.

I think that’s why the sudden recollection of this spectacular Jewish lineage became an almost new discovery even though the reality has always been part of our lives. We, and our children, and theirs, are part of something well beyond ourselves. I am grateful to be part of the tribe – and pray that our boys, and theirs – and their moms – travel safely as the world continues on its magnificent, scary and complicated trips around the sun.

The Statue and the Synagogue

This is what the women saw. There are few sanctuaries more beautiful and moving than this 1675 Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue in Amsterdam, and here the women, while separated, were still able to share its beauty. In fact, in many ways, they saw more.

The service, certainly, but also the outside world for which they prayed. It was a hike to get there, of course, but the dignity and faith that infuses the place was more available to them than in many other observant synagogues. It’s difficult to describe the peace and beauty of this place, even with a photo. Or two. The black and white one is a wedding photo taken in the synagogue.

So where you ask is the statue? Well, he’s right here. Baruch Spinoza, whose ideas wreaked havoc in religious communities of Europe. Here’s what Wikipedia says:

Philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel said of all contemporary philosophers, “You are either a Spinozist or not a philosopher at all.”^[8]

Spinoza’s given name in different languages is Hebrew: ברוך שפינוזה‎ Baruch Spinoza, Portuguese: Benedito or Bento de Espinosa and Latin: Benedictus de Spinoza; in all these languages, the given name means “the Blessed”. Spinoza was raised in the Portuguese Jewish community in Amsterdam. He developed highly controversial ideas regarding the authenticity of the Hebrew Bible and the nature of the Divine. The Jewish religious authorities issued a cherem (Hebrew: חרם, a kind of ban, shunning, ostracism, expulsion, or excommunication) against him, effectively excluding him from Jewish society at age 23. His books were also later put on the Catholic Church’s Index of Forbidden Books.

A powerful figure in Jewish history and history in general, he stands just steps from the Synagogue, there – and not there; a compelling figure of faith — and doubt.

We are currently sailing through the Kiel Canal, an engineering feat that cut northern Europe in half and created a pathway that reduced isolation for many. Tonight we stop in Helsingborg, Sweden and Friday night, in Copenhagen.

Jewish Women, Feminists, and Esther — Across the Centuries

How can there be a women's story that women are not allowed to tell? Today is Purim – the celebration of the rescue of the Jews from the Persian King Asueras' evil adviser Haman. In a classic (and highly fortunate) intermarriage, she became the favorite wife of the powerful king. Unaware that she's Jewish, he's chosen her from all the maidens of Shushan and fallen for her – hard. The story is intricate but it ends with a bad guy trying to get the King to kill all the Jews (sound familiar?) and the Jewish Queen Esther convincing the King that the bad guy is indeed bad, and thus saving the day.

It's an old story with both sexist and feminist implications but today it emerged with a new life – at least for me. Here's why: it's required that Jews hear the story of Esther, the Megiila Esther, read twice during the holiday. It's read with a melody – a "trope" that's quite lovely. Usually, in observant Judaism, men preside. Prayers and readings are the domain of the male voice. But women are "permitted" to read the Megilla for a gathering of women. It's a act of Jewish feminism. And that's what happened this morning.

I wish I could describe the emotion that arises as one hears the women's voices together, and the single voices, one by one, reading out the story. It's an act of faith, an act of love, really, but it's also an act of community – the community of women coming together to share the story of a feisty queen who overcame fear to save her people.

Of course you would be correct to suggest that the simplest solution would be to choose a branch of Judaism that has made its way past such rules and you'd be correct. But we've chosen, despite the difficulties, to live this life, partly because of the very community that produced this day. And it comes, as a friend reminded me last night, as a package. So there will be moments – many of them – of frustration and anger. Of a sense of deprivation and loss. And the, just when it seems terrible — something lovely happens. Something like today.

You Mean There Are Jewish Neighborhoods in PARIS????

I’ve been to Paris probably close to 15 times in the past 30 years; never has it disappointed me. But until I began living a more Jewishly observant life, I’d missed a huge part of it. Like virtually every other city in Europe, Paris has a “Jewish neighborhood.” Like virtually every other city in the world – (if they hadn’t been thrown out altogether) the Jews moved out of their old neighborhoods, as they did on the Lower East Side, leaving their stores and delis behind.
This neighborhood in Paris, in the Marais, is somewhere in the middle. Plenty of Jews are still there; plenty more have moved on. But the services, and especially the restaurants, groceries and bookstores — and several synagogues large and small — they’re still there. This is the bookstore where you can buy prayer books and Jewish history and Shoah books as well as candle sticks and other Jewish necessities. It’s not far from a primary school whose front entrance includes a tribute to the more than 100 Jewish children seized there during the German occupation of Paris, never to be seen again. Stand outside that door and you can’t help but imagine how it must have looked and sounded and felt that day.

On a lighter note though, since we’re Jews, there’s food. This is one of two competing falafel stands on Rue de Rosiers and the lines were enormous on this hot, sunny Sunday. In addition to residents and Jewish tourists wandering by, whole tour groups arrived to try the native fare. It was quite festive, actually.

Oh, and there’s a photo missing here. I was scared to take it. We were approaching the former home of Jo Goldenberg, the legendary Jewish restaurant in the neighborhood, internationally known even before it was bombed in the summer of 1982, killing six and injuring several others. It’s gone now, a victim of the times, but as we neared the empty building, police sirens in the ooh-aah sound European sirens make, blasted us, close by. They screeched to a halt outside and a policeman cautiously approached a bag siting on the stoop outside the former deli. Clearly frightened, he gingerly picked up the bag to put into the police van and move it from the area, now so full of tourists and shoppers. Unnerved, my husband and I sped away.

So you don’t get a photo. But I can tell you that the cop looked very scared. And just so you don’t think this is a lot of melodrama, I was in a synagogue in Vienna EXACTLY one week before it was bombed. I had my young son in his stroller. That next week, a mother died throwing herself on top of her child – in his stroller. So there’s more to hanging around a famous Jewish neighborhood that candlesticks and shwarma.

One more thing. It looks as if, again, like the Lower East Side, gentrification may complete the job that first persecution and then upward mobility began. Last year, a story appeared in AFP – the French wire service, with the headline: “Paris Jewish quarter fights tourism, commerce in battle for soul.” Fashion retailers and other high-end businesses want to be in what is now the “cool” neighborhood and let some of that cache rub off on them. The Jews? Well they’re fighting to keep their institutions and to remain a distinct community, but there’s no guarantee they’ll succeed. Until then, the Marais, in addition to great coats, shoes, bags and jewelry, remains the “Jewish neighborhood.” So get there while you can.

Sunrise, Sunset: an Amazing Day of Jewish Rituals

We all feel gratitude for the beautiful moments in our lives. In the observant Jewish life we live now those moments are often built around life-cycle events, usually moving and sometimes profound. Last week, we had a Sunday that brought the entire thing into broad relief. It's taken me a week to think it through and write about it though. It was just so huge.

We began early, at a bris. That's the moment of circumcision, welcoming a Jewish boy into the covenant with God on the 8th day of his life. This one was held at the parents' home, full of their friends and those of the grandparents. The mother's mom and dad are good friends of ours, kind, generous, no nonsense people, a librarian and a doctor. Like any mom, she was helping her daughter. Like any mom, she was greeting guests with hugs and personal welcomes. Like any mom, she was dashing from counter to table with salads, platters of food, drinks, desserts. Unlike most moms though, she did it all with a "crew cut". In the midst of chemotherapy for breast cancer, she's decided there was no sense in "wearing something silly" to cover her hair loss, so she didn't. Watching her hold her new grandson, both of them reminding us of the value of life at its most basic, was amazing. You can imagine how it felt to be part of this – new life, fighting for life, affirming life – all in one family in one day. It was quite a thing.

Blown away, we set off for our second destination, far less nuanced and very sad. A young friend with a toddler, expecting her second child very soon, had lost her mother to cancer. The funeral, filled with other young parents with infants in their arms, was sad as they always are, laden with the grief felt by both this daughter and her husband. Her parents had long been divorced, her ailing father lives with them, and for her last months, her mother had as well. It's a huge thing to be that responsible for each parent singly and still live with one's responsibilities for spouse and children. This couple took the responsibilities on gracefully and willingly.

It was heartbreaking to hear the impassioned tribute this young woman gave to her mother, to understand the depth of her loss. Jewish funerals are immediate, simple and highly symbolic: the 91st Psalm recited as the procession stops seven times on the way to the grave to symbolize the reluctance to bid farewell, internment in a simple pine box, all attendees contributing to covering the coffin until the grave is full, shovel by shovel, to support the lost and the mourners. I've always said that the way Jews deal with death is one of my favorite of its many beautiful attributes; it seems to add symbolism to the grief and meaning to the death.

Deeply depleted, as if a gray cloud had descended on our day, we returned to the car and moved on. We were late, but able to arrive midway through our next engagement – a wedding. As you can imagine, it was tough to rally but we did our best. The bride and groom are a lovely (and very tall!) young couple, with a combined sweetness and wry sense of humor that endeared them to everyone. So we were honored to be there. It reminds, too, that life is indeed a circle, as corny as that sounds, filled both with sadness and joy.

We ended this amazing Sunday with a kind of interim ritual – between the beginning of life and the rituals of adulthood: a bar mitzvah party. The young man celebrating his Saturday Torah reading and entry into Jewish adulthood is a remarkable kid, and the joys of this celebration were compounded by the special nature of this boy and his family – all hugely active in the community – fun, scholarly and kind. They were the first people we met when we moved to this aging community that has since grown into a thriving, intergenerational congregation. Newly arrived from Boston, they had chosen it because it needed new members to replace those who had moved away or died. When we got here, the "bar mitzvah boy" was a little kid. Now he's a poised young man with legions of friends from age two (really) to 82. We all consider them a gift. It was wonderful to celebrate with them.

So that was our day: a journey through Jewish tradition, commemoration of joy and grief, birth and loss, life and death — and a reminder of what an amazing journey we all – Jewish or otherwise, travel together.

Visit This Jewish Blog Carnival – It’s Interesting

This carnival is fascinating – many sides of issues relating to Judaism, observant or secular Jewish life and, of course, Israel. It's pretty diverse, take a look and see what you think. Full disclosure: a post of mine is included.

Money, Madoff, Seniors and Struggles

NO this is not the lazy way out – sending you to another blog. Ronni Bennett is a highly visible, highly regarded "elder blogger" and has formed a large, vital community around her blog Time Goes By. A retired CBS News producer, she moved from Manhattan to Maine for a more affordable standard of living and she's got her fingers on many pulses. Today, she writes about the already tragic costs of the economic crisis for "the rest of us" – those not losing fortunes because of Bernard Madoff but just losing ground.

I think the Madoff story is worth the attention it's getting, not just or even mainly because of the damage it did to high-end investors but because someone of such stature (Head of NASDAQ) would – and could- do such things – and that he got away with it for so long. It's institutionally mind-blowing. As I wandered the web reading stories for this post, I discovered more reasons, too. It did disproportionate damage to Jews and Jewish charities – and Madoff was Jewish. Another "how could he?" Non-profits around the world, literally, are devastated; an example of the non-profit chaos generated by Mr. Madoff's activity.

Even so, Ronni's point about the focus on the big stuff when there are so many stories, especially at this time of year, is worth taking a look at. She's right about that; we need to see more profiles of those people who "work hard and play by the rules" and are struggling to figure out how to survive. They're our neighbors – and, in many cases, they're us.

POST-ELECTION SHABBAT LOOMS – WE CAN TALK MORE LATER

The first sabbath of a new age – relish it. Talk to you Saturday night.

ROSH HASHANAH ONE REDUX: ONE YEAR AGO

I’m posting this again, one year later, because the feelings remain and the holiday arrived last night. I’ve set the timer to post this during the holiday [That way I didn’t have to break the rules and post it during down time.] When you hear about things like the urgency of the bail out vote because of the Jewish Holiday of Rosh Hashanah – this is what they’re talking about.
September 12, 2007 A NEW YEAR, A 36th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY, A LOT TO THINK ABOUT

Tonight begins Rosh Hashanah – the New Year celebration that launches the holy season of the Days of Awe that continues until Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement. It’s also a huge day for me – in more than one way. Rick and I were married 36 years ago today.
On a boat on the Monongahela River. We’ve been through a lot – maybe
more than most couples – but we’ve hung on and we’re reaping the
rewards of a shared history. So to have this remarkable landmark fall
on the eve of a holy day of renewal is really something.

This is another anniversary, too. Our third living an observant
life. We first came here for Rosh Hashanah services 4 years ago, met our remarkable rabbi and began the journey that has led us to a new, moving, inspiring, frustrating, challenging, occasionally painful, sometimes completely uplifting life.
We share new feelings, new friends, new aspirations to goodness and a
sense of God, new challenges and inspirations. AND we’re still sharing
them with each other. That too is remarkable.

Now as we move toward observance of these days, toward prayers and
meals and friends and — especially joyful – a visit from one of our
sons and his girl friend, I am both grateful and anxious. We are
supposed to think about debts and obligations, sins and redemption. I
still carry a painful resentment – toward someone who
has hurt me deeply and, I suspect, believes that I hurt them. I need
to deal with this but am still struggling to figure out how. But I
know I will – that I must. That’s the other gift of this season – a
confrontation with the personal flaws that impede our prayers and our
happiness.

To those who have offered us so much guidance and support, with whom
we’ve had such fun and such meaningful prayers (and meals – and visits)
I wish you the gift of as much goodness as you’ve brought us – an
enormous deluge of joy. To our dear rabbi and his family a special
thanks for being our gateway to this new life and all that it has
meant.

And to Rick, my partner, love and best friend, eternal gratitude to you
for your courage and determination, love and generosity, talents and
humor and incredible incredible soul. Happy anniversary. Thanks for
the memories, the adventures, our amazing children, and this
astonishing, still emerging journey. L’shana tova.

Posted by Cynthia Samuels on September 12, 2007 at 09:54 AM

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RADIO SILENCE

I hate being off the grid for even a moment in these weirdest of times but from sundown Friday until sundown Saturday I’m gone. If you’re looking for me, I should be caught up and posting by Sunday some time. Have a lovely weekend. (and thanks to Steven and Linda, whoever they are, whose photo this is.) Their MYSpace page is private or I would link to them – it’s perfect for a webrat like me who has to stay offline to honor the Sabbath. Shabbat Shalom indeed.