A New Spiritual Comfort Zone: Reflecting on the Pew Study

A New Spiritual Comfort Zone: Reflecting on the Pew Study

Thoughts on Parashah B'reishit

1 Cheshvan, 5774

And so the joyous music of Simchat Torah calls us Torah studiers back out onto the hardwood floor where we will be rendered near absolute-beginners for another (Jewish) calendar year. Let the dance (and the struggle) begin!

5774 starts my 4th go-around with the five Books of Moses and in acknowledging and celebrating that I have decided to spend the new year not just with The Torah but with “The Torah: A Women’s Commentary”. Sadly, we do not use this book during Torah Study, instead defaulting to either The Tanakh or the Modern Commentary/Plaut version. These are fine but honestly, their obvious male-centric narrative and lack of both a female perspective and feminist examination reveal (sometimes painfully) how deeply immersed in (sometimes oppressive) patriarchy these foundational books are. While this does not escape the attention of the rabbis who lead my Torah study it is not always their weekly focus either (although they would be the first to encourage introducing them relevantly into the discussions). 

Whether it is because of my renewed academic focus on feminism through my MA courses this semester or a need to find a new analytic lens for my Torah study, I am eager to listen and read the Torah through new voices and eyes. (Not only does the Women’s Commentary offer these via its fresh ideas and arguments, it also includes poetic interpretations and inspirations of the text which are for me are just as provocative, and ultimately moving as the editorials themselves.)

With this new directive I have just completed Parshah B’reishit. (Yes, I know I am a week behind, indicative of the amount of reading my MA program leaves on my desk) and am left with these observations and questions in its wake:

-          After eating the apple Adam and Eve’s eyes were opened, yet it does not say they incurred shame from their nakedness (Genesis 3:7) – if I am reading the Hebrew correctly. Then by default is not what they are feeling by realizing their nakedness – which is really just the result of eating the forbidden fruit, the real transgression here – guilt? I think this is critical since guilt attaches itself to action (eating the apple) as opposed to shame, which clings to the person instead.

-          Genesis 3:6 – Wait – Adam was with Eve when the snake suggested a little consciousness-raising for dessert? Whoa, that little detail was de-emphasized in other retellings of the Creation Story I have come across.

-          Genesis 3:9 – God asks Adam - and through him, acknowledging the rest of humanity’s raised awareness – “Where ya at?” And my/your/our answer is…? (From a great Torah lesson with Rabbi Matt Soffer).

-          Genesis 3:16: Ah, so the hetero-normativity begins. (Not surprising given the historical and cultural contect of The Torah.)

-          Genesis 3:22: So God exiled Eve and Adam, not because they had eaten from The Tree of Knowledge but out of fear that because they had they might (inevitably) eat from The Tree of Life next? Which implies…?

-          P. 18’s commentary: “The gateway to the garden is closed, but the world has opened up.” And Eve says, “You’re welcome.”

-          Genesis 5: 1-27: How are we judging the length of time here? Genesis emphasizes the importance of a seven-day week but are we assuming a day is 24 hours? A year cannot be calculated as 365 days (the length of a Gregorian year) yet.

-          Genesis 6:1-4: Um, er, whaaaa….? Not sure if I am reading a Greek myth now, half-expecting Zeus to pop out from behind the curtains and wink at the audience. Of course, the placement of this passage informs the verses that follow – well, kinda maybe, but then, maybe not - but couldn’t that proceeding passage also stand alone?

And so the joyous music of Simchat Torah calls us Torah studiers back out onto the hardwood floor where we will be rendered near absolute-beginners for another (Jewish) calendar year. Let the dance (and the struggle) begin!

HOPE - Fountainheads - Yom Haatzmaut

So if you catch me dancing down Center St. or Huntington Ave. it's probably because I have downloaded this song...



I found it while searching for Rosh Hashannah videos (which Ein Prat Fountainheads can claim a great one here.) So yeah, has absolutely nothing to do with Sukkot or Simchat Torah, the remaining holidays in this season. Know what? Don't care. Too busy dancing.

Talking with Naomi Zeveloff, editor of the Forward’s transgender and Jewish series

Talking with Naomi Zeveloff, editor of the Forward’s transgender and Jewish series

Postcard from Elul, 5773

16, Elul, 5773 -

Welcome to the middle of Elul, that last month of the Jewish calendar, that runs right up to the shofar blast that announces the arrival of Rosh HaShanah and with it the Days of Awe, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Simchat Torah, 5774 and...well, everything!

More than a place marker on a calendar, Elul has become a meaningful time for me as a Jew. My first year at Temple Israel of Boston I was still in the process of converting and undergoing some serious life challenges. I was afraid I would not be able to celebrate the High Holy Days with the congregation I was now thinking of as my Temple Family. So I was completely taken by surprise when the Rabbi I was converting with came up to me in the quiet before Shabbat services and handed me an envelope with a ticket to HHD services. My eyes grow hot with tears.

The following Elul was my first post-mikvah and the HHDs took on special relevance and reverence. I surprised a good many people by choosing to go to the more traditional Yellow-ticket service as opposed to the Temple's widely-regarded eclectic Purple-ticket service. (This was also the year I had just started a new hormone regiment which completely waylaid me in the middle of Yom Kippur prayers and I got to spend the afternoon in the local Emergency Room. One of my Rabbis checked in to see if I was okay. One more reason to <3 my Temple.)

Last Elul (5772) found me wandering in the middle of some heavy emotional strife, or what one of my Rabbis called a "wilderness moment". It was a pretty frightening place for me to find myself in, especially being so unaccustomed to processing feelings. I was able to talk to some of my Rabbis in the days before Rosh HaShanah and glean enough insight and garner enough spiritual strength to take those doubts and fears with me into the HHD and Days of Awe.

This Elul has been less dramatic than some past seasons but no less meaningful. I have been filling up the pages of my Jewish diary with thoughts and reflections, fears and hopes, doubts and dreams. I have been focused on those sins which only I could claim and how to ask for forgiveness, especially from myself. Why is that always the hardest plea to ask for? I am not a fan of holding up the mirror to me and am always shocked at how badly I can treat myself. But I have come to think that before approaching anyone else I have wronged, I must start with that reflection in the mirror. Hillel the Elder had it right; go, Hillel!

Always looking to glean more understanding of the holiday, I have also been spending serious time with Beginning Anew: A Woman's Companion to The High Holy Days (ed., Gail Twersky Reimer and Judith A. Kates). This anthology offers some challenging perspectives on locating and listening to women's voices and perspectives from both within and without the traditional HHD Torah readings (e.g. - Sarah, Hagar, Hannah, The Akeda, etc.) I have been finding these stories problematic with complications and complexities that have left me unsettled as a feminist-minded member of the Tribe. Until now I have blamed my uneasiness on my status as a (relatively new) convert. This volume has revealed that I am not the only Jew who feels this way. In true Jewish tradition, these writings offer no easy solutions or any answers at all but instead provocative insights and dialogues that garnish further questions and impetus to delve deeper into the upcoming holiday. I couldn't recommend this book more!

Finally, as with every past Elul, I am enjoying the seasonal Rosh Hashanah music videos. These always leave me uplifted from the inside out and put a ridiculously joyful smile on my face. Below is a short list of some finds this season - please feel free to add to them!

So whether this month finds you deep within the pages of a journal, an anthology, listening to music or simply sinking your toes in the sands of your favorite beach, may these days of reflection and renewal lead you to the Gates of Rosh HaShanah. שנה טובה!‎

The Book of Good Life - The Maccabeats    
(Nope, don't know the song it's based on, but I always love The Maccabeats smooth sound...)

Erev Rosh HaShanah - Avigail Cohen
(Beautiful.)

Call Me Maybe Chana Tova - Agence Juive
(Why yes, it is in French. il pas une grosse affaire.)

Soul Bigger - The Rosh HaShana Song: Unique New York Productions

  

Zimmerman Verdict: Reflections on Justice and Dialogue

Zimmerman Verdict: Reflections on Justice and Dialogue

...one of the more reasonable and measured editorials on the Zimmerman verdict I have found...

"Leviticus...who knew?"

“Leviticus. Progressive. Who knew?”

Certainly not me. Even though Torah study is still a relatively new experience for me,  I always find it hard to wade through the pages of Leviticus (a.k.a. Vayikra, the Hebrew transliteration for the opening words "He called”, otherwise known as Torat Kohanim  or “priestly instructions”).  Found stuffed between its opening and concluding words is an infamous list of “do’s” and “don’t”s for both the members of The Tribe of Levi (read: priests) and everyone else (read: everyone else). Notorious highlighted rules include admonishments against “working on the Sabbath, handling the dead skin of various animals, (clearly not foreseeing the concept of footballs), having sex with a man “as one does with a woman” (bad news for bottoms but thumbs-up for tops?), and making idols or “metal gods” (19:4) (perhaps foreseeing the hair bands of the ‘80’s?), practicing divination or seeking omens (19:26), trimming your beard (19:27), getting tattoos (19:28), and cursing your father or mother (punishable by death) (20:9), blasphemy (also punishable by stoning to death) (24:14).” (Wait - doesn't Deuteronomy’s “an eye for an eye” call for measured legal remedies? The Torah’s struggle goes on.)

As far as the Five Books of Moses go, the Book of the Levites remains my instant nomination for The Torah Portion Most Likely to Be Quoted by Reporters and Politicians on Fox News.

So when I awoke a recent Saturday morning and opened my Torah to see which parsha we would be studying – a ritual I do every Shabbat morning – I got about three passages before issuing a pained groan. Leviticus. Oh. Joy. The narrative build-up of Genesis and the CGI-laden drama of Exodus seems to set the reader up for some serious anti-climactic disappointment with Leviticus, IMO. Seriously, after plaguing Pharoah and the exodus from Egypt, then the theophany of Sinai and grappling with the meaning of The Golden Calf Incident, and finally the building of the tabernacle with dolphin skins (dolphin skins, I tell you!), how am I supposed to get excited about being reminded to burn the fat of a slaughtered bull and knowing which side of the altar to put the remains of the bird I just pulled apart? (“And there was much rejoicing.”)

Yet that morning’s Torah Study challenged my disdain. A discussion around first few verses of Leviticus led to a listing of similarities (and by extension, differences) between the recently-read Sinai Moment and the listed Leviticus Sacrifices. As the comparisons were getting popcorned about the room – the Torah studiers I spend my Saturday morning make up a pretty fearless bunch - it struck me that these sacrifices served not only as an acknowledgement of sin to God but as a reparative mechanism to the nascent Israel society. Pretty radical, because in many ways this people were the living breathing definition of a mechanical society, and mechanical societies do not embrace making such amends.

So what was going on here?

Some quick back-story before moving forward. Brought to you by Emile Durkheim.

Durkeim, that perennial favorite of Sociology Theory courses worldwide, theorized there are two types of societies (or solidarities): mechanical and organic. The former is delineated by tightly regulated homogeneity. In this particular society there is a strong similarity between individuals; many of its citizens are working at the same or similar jobs, entertaining the same beliefs, enforcing the same values. The collective consciousness is reinforced to the point of fundamentalism. Tradition rules in mechanical solidarities. Needlessly to say, these cultures tend to be very religious.

On the other side of the spectrum is organic solidarity, which is defined by a diverse labor division which acknowledges that only through a variety of people adding their own specialized skills to the greater whole does the greater whole even exist. Interdependence is celebrated and advocated. The collective consciousness is less cohesive and therefore encompasses a wider range of values. Organic solidarities occur in more modern/industrialized spaces. Here secularism is the prevailing governance.

As you might imagine, law and punishment serve different purposes for each of these solidarities. In the mechanical, rules are authoritative, the punishments repressively severe. Those who break the law are made examples of in order to maintain the tight cohesiveness of the society and protect tradition. For organic solidarities restitution is what maintains order. Because tradition is not at the core of the society, it need not be guarded by severity. Laws are made to bring all parties involved in the infraction (and society as a whole) back to the point right before the infraction. If your child throws a rock throw my window, the law obliges you to pay for the damage and replace the window as it was to the moment before the rock met the glass (as opposed to mechanical solidarity’s punishments, which might include taking your child hand’s off by the wrist.)

We cannot be all that surprised then when, after just being handed the Ten Commandments from God at Sinai (and then being chastised and having 3000 of your kinsmen slain for the transgression of The Golden Calf) Jacob’s descendants turn to fundamentalism to keep God’s words and maintain order. They are out in the literal and metaphoric wilderness and have been witness to marvels beyond their comprehension without a Google Search engine in sight for another couple of millennium. What else to fall back on than their own traditions and themselves (especially as God has just entered into a covenant with them based upon promises made to their ancestors).  So maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised laws are put into place to stone the laborer who works on the Sabbath or the child who disrespects their parents.

Then Leviticus offers us something else: a process of reparation through purgation/sin /trespass offerings. A particularly novel and bold approach for עם ישראל. Would not the model of repression simply been easier as a social control mechanism? What was their intent? Was it to separate themselves from neighboring nations who may have been given to more severe forms of penal law? Or to signal that the recent covenant actually signaled the opportunity for a new societal order? Or maybe it was to construct a way to process sin that wouldn't trigger another round of wholesale murder among the ranks (which was probably seen as a tad off-putting.)

   

Another plus, as The Torah: A Women’s Commentary notes: the Leviticus sacrifices offered a not only the categorization of types of infraction and the mindset behind it (intentional versus unconscious) but the rank of the person actually breaking the law (priest, tribal leader, laity).

What’s so fascinating about looking at Leviticus through a sociological lens is that it offers a window on the formation of a new nation as it grapples with the struggle of keeping holy precepts while at the same time distinguishing itself from neighboring fundamentalist communities. How often do we get to see mechanical and organic values being weighed and measured in the same social space?

Leviticus, the sociological page-turner. Who knew?