religion – Page 3 – Don't Gel Too Soon

How I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT THE IDEA OF A BRIS

Many of the Jewish kids I know were circumcised but never had a bris (a ritual circumcision – complete with ceremony and prayers.) That was true in our family. I always thought it as barbaric. I have come to see the ceremony as one of the loveliest in Judaism. I’ve just come from one for our rabbi’s fifth child. The ceremony begins as the families of the new child line up at the door to the shul and pass him along toward the bimah, with all the congregation singing a song of congratulations. Many family members – aunts, uncles, grandparents and siblings, have a role — blessings to say, children to hold, passages to mark. Each older sister and brother gets a gift.

There is of course a serious ceremony within the celebration – the honoring of the covenant that God ordered and Abraham honored. The physical idea of the circumcision is tough – even for deep believers, I think, but it’s interesting that research in sexually transmitted diseases – even AIDS, shows that circumcised men contract and transmit these diseases less frequently. Of course there’s no hard evidence that there’s a connection but it adds to the considerations about the process itself.

The most important part, to me, is the welcoming of the child into the community both the broad of those who worship as observant Jews and of the closer extended family that surrounds the synagogue. There were kids hanging off the railings at the front of the synagogue, family members gathered to the side (that’s the photo), singing, crying and lots of reunions of people from far away who’d come together to celebrate. The little boy was named for his parent’s cousin who died, at 23, of Muscular Dystrophy. As the Rabbi spoke about him, he struggled not to weep – the combination of joy at the safe arrival of his son and memory of the loss of the man whose name this child now bears – were almost overwhelming. Many of us felt it too.

It’s taken me quite a journey to come to comprehension of it all and I’m sure I haven’t made it clear enough to you – but I guess the bottom line is that the combination of faith, joy, timeless ritual, love and friendship is a powerful gift — tough to learn to accept but, ultimately, something to treasure.

WELCOME TO NABLOPOMO! HOW I SOLVED THE SABBATH PROBLEM

This is a very exciting undertaking – a blog post a day for thirty days! A little scary, but exciting. For me though, it offered an extra challenge, one that forced me to drop out last year. I can’t work on the Sabbath. Every Saturday I observe Orthodox rules about the kindling of light, whether it be a spark plug in a car, a doorbell or a reading lamp. God told us to rest, and every Sabbath we pray the He be "please with our rest." It’s a pretty big thing. And it’s lovely; beginning with the lighting of Sabbath candles on Friday night and then a festive dinner. I’ve come to love the peace of it even though before we began our observant life I thought it was nuts. It was a great lesson in not prejudging. Ever.

So of course, there was no way that I could post on Saturdays. I can’t use the computer. Fortunately, technology solved the problem. I figured out that if it’s ok to use timers for the dining room lights (it is) then I could set a timer for my post. I’m writing each Saturday post in advance and setting it to be posted on Saturday morning. And I’ll be in Israel for almost half the month so this will also be a great diar. I’m looking forward to this.

SUKKOT, HOLIDAYS, IS GOD AROUND HERE SOMEPLACE?, ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

This is a Sukkah. More on that in a minute.

My mother always used to tell me that it was better leave a party before you wanted to. "Leave while it’s still fun" she would say, "and you’ll have loved every minute you were there." I always thought that was a rationalization for wanting me home at a decent hour, but I think, as in many things, she was right. We are now awaiting the last three days of what will be, in September and this week of October, ELEVEN days of limited activity and expected entertaining. OH – and religious services, of course: Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and the first and then final days of Sukkot. All of which fell on Thursday and Friday. Leading into Saturday. Which is the Sabbath. SO. No TV. No phones. No computers. No e-mail even. No cooking for many of those days and ONLY for the day in question the rest of those days.

Remember, these are very holy days, too. You have to be sure to keep that in your mind; go to services and try to connect. Our services are very uplifting and moving; we’re there all day and there’s lots of singing and shared emotion. You really know you’ve been praying and it’s a time when it’s easier to connect with one’s faith (at least for me.)

It also means, however, that on Rosh Hashanah (the New Year) there was dinner Wednesday night, Thursday night and Friday night and lunch on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. On Yom Kippur, a fast day, there was just preparation of a meal the night before. That’s 7 meals. We got through this fine – hosting three meals; and going to others for the other four. It was a lot of cooking and enormous anxiety but it all was in the service of sharing and honoring these remarkable holidays with those we care about; our older son and his girl friend were even there for part of it; all worked out well.

So where’s the BUT? You know there’s one coming. Well, five days later we hit Sukkot — the holiday where you have to eat outside in a "booth" (you can see the commandment here and an explanation at the bottom of this post)– to commemorate the Jewish people’s time living in booths in the desert during the Exodus. That’s ours in the photo (undecorated because I can’t take photos on the holidays when it IS all set up.) Again, two meals for two days at the beginning running into the Sabbath and two more at the end next week running into ANOTHER Sabbath. AND you have people over the in the days in between too, at least a little bit.

Most people I think are exhausted – hardly any have issued meal invitations although I hosted one lunch last Friday and we went to another family for dinner. That still left three of the five uninvited. That’s as stressful as cooking for the ones we host. Where were we going – who was going where we weren’t? Why did it matter? What about praying – why is this temporal stuff on our minds at all?

I have to admit it bothers me a little; others I know are supremely troubled by it. I feel like such a whiny little brat. Here we are just celebrating our
third year as active participants in this life and almost into our
third living in this community – having gained and learned so much –
and I’m complaining. It’s so not what faith is supposed to be about but it’s still a real issue – especially when you haven’t been doing this long.

This is the first year we’ve really hosted people in our Sukkah and so we wanted all to be just right; mostly we have done great except for those invitation gaps. I’m disappointed about that. And I’m ashamed of us for caring at all. These holidays are supposed to bring us closer to God but after seven days with three more coming all I feel close to is exhaustion. I’ve spoken to many friends about this; the women, upon whom the cooking seems to fall, are more pissed but the guys are also tired. Everyone is a little cranky. (My husband suggests that he is both tired AND cranky and the one doing most of the "taking inventory.") That’s probably true but it’s contagious!

Worst of all, it’s so anticlimactic. I wish you could have been with us on Yom Kippur. This holy day, which I had always experienced as solemn and sad, is, in our synagogue, a day of happiness. We are there because of the gift of repentance, we are participating in a service that is thousands of years old, the music is just extraordinary and the ritual moving and humbling. The young doctor who leads our service is profoundly spiritual and an amazing musician – here’s a sample of my favorite.

; I call him the Bruce Springsteen of prayer because of the energy and depth he offers us, and we leave uplifted and inspired.

So maybe the rapid slide into STILL MORE holiday after something so profound robs us of the full celebration of our Yom Kippur prayers – cutting off our feelings from that day but, as I write this, perhaps reminding us that one day’s repentance isn’t going to carry us through the year – or even the week – and that we must continue to try to find ways to follow our faith each moment, not just revel in past moments of spiritual ascendance. And I guess each emotion is a brick in the road to where ever we’re bound – this though is certainly not one I’m proud of.

***One rabbi explains:
THE SUKKA reminds us of Israel’s honeymoon with God in the hostile desert (of
cruel history– there must be more shade than sun in the sukka), and of Divine
clouds hovering over them (= eventual redemption; stars must be visible thru
the sukka roof– Rav Riskin); God’s protection against forces of evil, when the
Jews seem most vulnerable (e.g. 1948, 1991 and Purim), climaxes in the pre-
Messianic battles of our Haftarot. Then God will raise up David’s fallen
"sukka"– the 3rd Temple, preceded by the rediscovered tabernacle. Discomfort,
e.g. rain, exempts one from Sukka– but those truly great stay, experiencing
no discomfort when surrounded by God’s glory (The Berditchever). The sukka is
a symbol of peace, for it is open— to the elements of nature, to the heavens
above and, foremost, to guests, far and near (Rav Avigdor Hacohen). As we
invite guests to our sukka, not only do we do a good deed of kindness and
spread holiday cheer, but we also imitate God Himself, the Ultimate Model Host,
Who constantly feeds, clothes and houses all His creatures; we thus develop our
own Divine Image.

YOM KIPPUR – REDUX

This is Safat – a mystical city in Israel — with the sun setting on a summer evening. Tonight is Yom Kippur and so I offer this lovely photo along with wishes for a happy and healthy year whether you are Jewish or not.

Last year I wrote about the holiday – I’m repeating it here because it says most of what I feel and believe about this day.
Here goes:

September 26, 2006

If you’re Jewish this is a particularly important time of year. We just
celebrated Rosh Hashanah – the New Year – and now are in the ten days
between the New Year and the Day of Atonement – Yom Kippur – the
holiest day — the day of repentance. It’s interesting to have an
opportunity once a year to examine one’s life and seek improvement.

Where I grew up most people were Catholic and so I know a bit about
Confession in those terms, but what we do is a bit different. We must
seek forgiveness from those we have harmed – and take responsibility
for our sins. It is our duty to give extra charity and to fast and to
seek a better self beyond the confession of past transgressions. If
you take it seriously it’s a valuable exercise.

I have been fascinated in my now three year adventure with a more
religious lifestyle – to notice the similarities between Judaism and 12
Step programs. I’m involved with Al-Anon – for people affected by the
alcoholism of others – but here are some of the 12 Steps from AA – they are remarkably similar to redemption within faith:

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

I guess it makes sense – there’s a reason AA works and it’s probably got
a lot to do with the same phenomena that enable us to find true penance
on Yom Kippur or the other rituals of penance in other faiths.

Anyhow, it’s a beautiful fall day, I’m working on my penance and the privilege
of a new year – and wish you all the pleasure of the autumn sunshine
and a peaceful heart.

REBIRTH OF WONDER (REDUX)– DEATH AND LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI

One more deadline, one more rerun- the last for a while, I promise.

In A Coney Island of the Mind, San Francisco poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti wrote of a search for a rebirth of wonder.* It’s out there – that wonder — sometimes in the strangest places.

Here is what I know: Some things in life surprise us — not with shock but with wonder. Today we flew to Boston for Rick’s dad’s funeral. It was a beautiful day – sunny and almost as warm as spring. With Rick and me traveled not only our remarkable rabbi, but also two of Rick’s dearest friends. Despite the mid-week madness of Washington, they had chosen to leave their work and fly north to support us. In addition, the sisters of two friends unable to come arrived as their surrogates. That was the first wondrous thing.

An Orthodox funeral is deceptively simple. The coffin is a plain pine box held together with pegs. As it leaves the hearse it is borne by the mourners to its place over the grave. On the way, Psalm 91 is recited and the procession stops seven times. Once the coffin – reverently referred to as the "aron" is in place, the service proceeds.

With our rabbi leading the service, each step along the way was accompanied by warm and loving exposition: Why do we do this? — How should we participate? — What is the blessing of bearing the aron and seeing to its burial? As he led the prayers and answered these questions, it was with such love and individuality that participation became a privilege and a comfort. That is the second wondrous thing.

As the service moved toward conclusion the rabbi explained the final act. We, not the cemetery employees, would bury the coffin – my husband’s father. One by one, we took up the shovels and poured earth into the grave. Not until the grave was full and the coffin covered did we leave… and then, all those in attendance formed a double line so that Rick and his brother could pass through, moving from the funeral to the initial mourning period, or Shiva.

This last, loving duty is perhaps the most remarkable of what an Orthodox Jewish funeral offers mourners. At the funerals of each of my parents, way before we moved into this new life, the cemetery distributed little envelopes of "dirt from Israel" which attendees dropped on the coffin. We all left then, and the cemetery employees finished the job.

I told my sister about the custom that mourners fill the grave, thinking that she, who is not thrilled with our decision to live a more observant life, would be appalled. Instead, she said "That’s so great – leaving them covered and at peace. I felt so badly leaving Daddy there so exposed…." That’s probably the most critical. Imagine the difference, at the close of such a painful day, filled with loss and grief, if you knew you’d bid a farewell that leaves your loved one cared for and at peace. Imagine, too, that those you love – beloved friends and family members – have all left a part of themselves there in the grave; that the final resting place includes their loving labor. That’s the final wondrous thing.

We’re nowhere near the Age of Wonder, that’s for sure. But we are occasionally given a peek. Today the window opened and a bit emerged — not quite a rebirth but present nonetheless — just enough to help us see what’s possible. If that’s not wonder, I don’t know what is.

*I Am Waiting
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting for someone
to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder

SHARING HAPPY DAYS

For the past month I’ve been working almost all the time. Between all the blogger work I do and the benefit I co-chaired it’s been madness. Still is, a bit. But we’re rolling up to two summer weddings and a weekend at the beach so I will recover I’m sure. We spent a good deal of this past weekend celebrating with our friends in the last official activity before their wedding – it’s called an aufruf and it’s part of the Saturday morning service. The groom reads from the Haftorah and then – I know it’s goofy — everyone throws soft candy at him. It’s kind of a welcome into the almost-married state.

I was surprised at how moved I was; seeing a young couple of whom we are so fond pass another milestone on the way to their wedding in July. I am always struck at the value of ritual — something I suspect I’ve spent much too much time avoiding. Because we have been part of this relationship for some time, and because my husband was part of the service and all those called to bless the Torah were close both to the groom and to us, every moment was rich with meaning. The more I learn about the value of these moments the more I see the value behind religious observance. There are many days when I just get angry – don’t want the restrictions and rules and dos and donts. Days like Saturday though, I understand the connection between the lovely and the difficult. Just like the rest of life in some ways I guess.. only more so.

OH THOSE CANDLES

One of the great gifts of an observant Jewish life is the lighting of Sabbath candles. At a prescribed time each Friday, 18 minutes before sundown, it is the obligation of the Jewish woman to light candles as a symbolic acceptance of the Sabbath upon herself. The prayer is said AFTER you light the candles because once they’re lit, the Sabbath rules – ignite no fire, do no work etc. preclude the lighting of a match.

Here’s how it works: you light the candles, move your hands above the candles three times to bring their warmth toward you, then cover your eyes and say a simple blessing. It’s in Hebrew, but it means “Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who sanctifies us with his commandments, and enjoins us to light the candles of Shabbat.” Yes,the words of the prayer are plain; women say them in every corner of the earth – educated or not, every week and have been doing so for thousands of years. Many of us add prayers of our own, for those we love, for peace, for the lifting of burdens, for a better world.

I always take a very deep breath — the kind they taught us when I was quitting smoking — and exhale very slowly, releasing a lot of the stress of the week before I begin. One of my friends told me that when she was in medical school and having babies at the same time, she’d weep, every week, as she felt the burdens fall from her in the glow of the flame.

Makes sense to me. Something about this ritual is transporting. I also love the idea that this is a woman’s privilege. Much has been written about what observant Jewish women are NOT permitted to do – and much of it is true. That’s another conversation. But the impact of this particular duty is profound, beautiful and serene and I am grateful for it. So, as we move toward the close of this day and toward what I have found to be the true peace of the sabbath – I send to you, whatever your faith – a peaceful wish — Shabbat Shalom.

HATS OFF (???) Part 2

You thought we were finished with this, didn’t you? Sorry. Laura Shaw Frank (scholar of such magnitude and teacher of such openness) this weekend continued her lectures on the issue of modesty. She made two points which greatly enhance this conversation — which follows from this earlier post.

The first was that the term "modesty" which includes not only hair covering and clothing but also a gender-neutral moral, ethical and spiritual modesty, is meant to bring us closer to God. So, although many of the most conservative Orthodox Jews set what appear (to me) to be unjust and unnecessary conditions, as we consider what’s modest and what isn’t, where, how and if to cover hair and why, we need to remember the overarching concept of a private relationship with a higher power, enhanced and empowered by a modest body AND spirit; as we consider how intense the rules should be – and indeed why they must exist at all — we need to do so in the context of the intent — male or female — of living modestly.

The second issue she raised was about something called "habituation." "Habituation" is change in social climate – in habit, really. Does the fact that so few women cover their hair make it no longer a form of "nakedness" to leave the hair uncovered? I have to tell you – half of me boils over still at the idea that we even need to have this conversation. In fact, at the discussion, one of my friends asked why she had to listen to rules and Talmudic interpretations of how women should behave, proffered by men. Frank cited valid, respected sources on both sides. Some say that many of the most critical prayers may not be recited in the presence of a woman with uncovered hair; others say that "since most women go that way now, it has become like an exposed part of the body." In other words, "It’s all around you so why would it harm your thoughts or seem like nakedness? You must be inured to it by now."

The thing is – if modesty is also a key to internal connection to God, what is the point of defying the concept? Why not find a way for men and women to pursue modesty as part of the pursuit of God? What Laura Frank maintains is that as we decide how to apply these ideas we need to know the sources. To struggle or condemn rules, as I am wont to do, only by applying current political standards without understanding of the deeper intention is not fair to those who interpret the rules or to oneself. You need a historic and biblical context.

Beyond that – the biggest question: IF WE DO ACCEPT THE CONCEPT OF HABITUATION – WHERE DO WE DRAW THE LINE???? You may remember my link to Cooper Munroe’s site – BEEN THERE, where she posted a New York Times piece called Middle School Girls Gone Wild. It’s a troubling description of very suggestive dance performances by tween-aged girls. No sensible person wants that for her child; it’s that end of the spectrum that underlines the question of "how far do we habituate? How do we maintain the decorum we do seek? Must the slippery slope govern everything?"

I realize that to non-Orthodox Jews this is probably a bizarre post but the idea behind it – living a life without showiness or improper behavior as each of us sees it — is not limited to our small community. The fact that the TIMES story was one of the "most emailed" for some time proves that.

Sublime and Ridiculous — New Babies and the Golden Globes

Monday morning dear friends of ours named their new daughter. She had been born on Thursday, but in keeping with Orthodox tradition, no one knew her name until the service held during regular morning prayers. It’s a beautiful tradition – babies names have great thought behind them – connection to a deceased family member and when it’s possible to some kind of deeper meaning. Our friends’ other two kids have very meaningful and special names so we weren’t surprised that this little girl will also carry one. Born the week that the story of Moses in the bulrushes was read in the synagogue – she was named Batya – daughter of God — the name given in commentaries to the daughter of Pharaoh who pulled the infant from the Nile. Her courage, and the fact that she saved the man who would save the Jewish people, earned that for her.

I’d post her photo here but I write this for me and don’t like to turn friends and family into editorial fodder. Suffice it to say that this was an event of great joy – the parents two people whose contributions both as leaders and role models are legion; the big brother and sister, 4 and 2, smart, funny and sweet. Daddy often leads our services, Mom leads much of the study that goes on – and there’s a lot. In the middle of all the love, laughter and prayer I remembered again why I had chosen this complicated life, and was grateful.

Meanwhile, out there in the Outside World, I was amazed at the Golden Globes. Yeah I’m an awards junkie but this year the Globes were like COSTCO – crammed with every kind of person. It was exciting to see how different the winner’s roll call has become. Whether you looked at age, race or nationality, all sorts of people made it to the podium. Here are just some of the winners – and this doesn’t count people from countries other than the UK because I wasn’t sure enough about who was from where. Here goes: 8 WHO ARE NOT SO YOUNG: Warren Beatty, Helen Mirren, Maryl Streep, Martin Scorsese, Helen Moreen (again), Alec Baldwin, Bill Night, Jeremy Irons. 2 WHO ARE LATINO; America Herrera and SHOW Ugly Betty, 6 WHO ARE AFRICAN AMERICAN; Forest Whitaker, Jennifer Hudson, Eddie Murphy, Prince, Grays Anatomy executive producer Shanda Rimes and FILM Dream Girls, and 9 — yes 9 out of 26 major awards – to OUR COUSINS FROM THE UK: Helen Mirren, Sacha Baron Cohen, Helen Mirren again, Peter Morgan, Hugh Laurie, Bill Nighy, Jeremy Irons, Emily Blunt and SHOW: Elizabeth 1.

I also think the quality of the nominated and winning programs was pretty damn high. If it weren’t for reality shows you could almost make the claim that quality is beginning to become expectable on television – and if you count Project Runway you can kind of make the case for at least one of those as well. I’ve even had heavy-duty ‘DC politicos asking me "what are you watching these days?" right along with discussions of the Book Review. The bad is still really bad, of course, but maybe by the time young Batya grows up that will change too.

HATS OFF (???)

What is it about hats? When I was a young lefty-hippie I ran around in a big orange straw hat with a floppy brim. You can see me here with the late, amazing Spalding Gray.

Somehow though, when I entered the world of Orthodox Judaism, the hat seemed a surrender to authority and to what I saw as a kind of lower status. Men cover their heads to remind them of God. Women are mandated to cover their hair for reasons relating to the Orthodox concept of “modesty.”

Our “beit midrash” – a group of women who study Jewish concepts, ideas and texts together every Tuesday, has just spent several sessions talking about hair covering and its origins and interpretations.

The teacher for this topic, Laura Shaw Frank, is an effective,inspiring and gifted teacher. A long-time corporate lawyer, she left her practice to become a Jewish educator. Whatever sacrifices that has involved, it has been a gift to the communities of women (and often men AND women) who have benefited from her teaching.

What we learned, basically, is that 1] Women and the temptation they offer men are perceived as terribly dangerous. Our hair is seen by many sages as so erotic and stimulating that it must be covered to protect both men and women. Therefore modesty becomes our responsibility, to guarantee the virtue of our people. 2] In most parts of Orthodox Judaism only married women must cover their hair. I’m still confused about why it isn’t more dangerous for young, single girls to be “exposed” than old married ladies like me, but there your are. 3] WHEN women must cover their hair depends on where they happen to be. At home, with only family around, no need. The farther we get out into the world, the more rigid is the requirement to “cover up.”

Of course, Orthodox women observe this obligation in different ways. Some wear wigs that cover every hair; some scarves and hats that do the same. Some cover only the top portions of their hair – as this photo of Laura Frank illustrates. Others wear head covering only in Synagogue.

THIS IS ME, NOT LAURA FRANK: In any interpretation it’s discriminatory; we’re covering our heads to protect men. Clearly there’s considerable argument about why this has to happen at all, although almost no disagreement that it has to happen in some form. It’s another acceptance of discipline, but unlike many that I’ve written about here, this one is, to me, a manifestation of a deep distrust of women and the power we wield. I have believed for some time that it is our power to create life, to bring forth new human people, that led men to view us as dangerous and subversive; that somehow it’s based on a jealousy that they do not have this ultimate privilege that rests with us.

ALL those reasons and many many more discussed over these past weeks made me really reluctant to buy into the hat-wearing thing. Then I started thinking about touring Europe and carrying scarves to put over my head in cathedrals. I was willing to cover my head in the cathedrals but not in my own congregation! I decided that was disrespectful. I began wearing scarves tied around my head. They looked kind of cool – and I felt more appropriate.

I wore the scarves for over a year and then I got sick of having them slide around and cram my bangs against my face. I solved the problem. I bought a hat. A red hat. I felt a little bit like I was playing dress-up but it’s become easier.

Last week, at the last class taught by Ms. Frank, we had a hat sale. THAT was really like playing dress-up with your girlfriends! I bought a really pretty one. And although I wear hats whenever I’m in the sanctuary at the Synagogue, I am still bothered by the discrimination implied by the rules and definitions surrounding head coverings.

As we heard in class though, if you’re going to engage in the rules of head covering and modesty, at least know where they came from. I know now, and I’ll cover my head in shul even though I’m not happy with the reasons behind it. In my heart, I still believe that much of the behavior prescribed for women in the Torah emerges from a deep anxiety about the powers and mysteries that surround us — powers that offer us the privilege of pregnancy and birth, of an inviolate connection to our children and of wisdom shared — for centuries — among us. Fortunately, no hat is going to cover that!