Recently in Judaism Category

After months of not going to Shabbat services, Julie and I decided to start checking out synagogues in LA. We have no shortage of options. In a two-mile radius around our apartment there must be at least thirty little store-front schuls. It's like nothing I've ever seen before but I don't think those are quite for us (what with separate entrances for men and women).

On our way to and from work there is a gorgeous old synagogue built in the twenties by a Reform congregation founded in the late nineteenth century. Ignoring the congregation's age as a warning that the service would be "high Reform" and thus a little too Lutheran for our taste, we decided to go check it out.

Services started at six so we went straight from work. We parked outside the building and went inside to find the Friday night service. This building was incredible. First of all its enormous. More importantly its like nothing I've seen in California so far. It has serious pedigree and a long heritage. The main sanctuary sits under a massive vaulted dome supported at times by marble columns and adorned with stained-glass windows. The bima is at the front, as it typical of all Reform and most modern synagogues (instead of in the middle of room like in older synagogue architecture). The congregation occupies a downward sloping arc of pews and a massive balcony. The space is truly awe inspiring.

But this main space wasn't where the Friday night service takes place. That space is reserved, I assume, for the high holidays, bar and bat mitzvot and weddings. Instead, the Friday night service was in the Max Factor (member of the congregation I assume) memorial chapel.

Julie and I were encouraged that one of the two Rabbis leading the service was a woman but started to lose hope when we surveyed the siddur. Undeterred by the decided lack of Hebrew in the prayer book we pressed on wanting to give the service a chance.

It was bland but that wasn't the problem. The problem started when the Rabbi who led the service started his sermon. He just returned, you see, from a trip to Eastern Europe touring concentration camps (which is, apparently, all that could possibly interest a Jew in that part of the world) that culminated in a visit to Israel. As you might guess from my aside, his framing of the trip was the typical one for that generation. Eastern Europe, the narrative goes, is where bad things happened to Jews. Yes there are communities growing again but they are small, almost futile attempts, to revive the Eastern European diaspora.

Israel is where all the action is at for the Jew, according to this narrative. Had Israel existed, you see, the Holocaust would never have happened, he boldly asserted.

Already my jaw was on the floor. The use of the Holocaust as the primary narrative for contemporary Jews, as the lens through which we evaluate everything before and after, is deeply troubling.

Even more troubling is the assertion that the founding of the state of Israel was the inevitable and favorable outcome of the Holocaust. Sadly he didn't stop there.

The day he landed in Israel is the day that "we" went into Lebanon. He made a point to let us know that he didn't go to Haifa and that in the southern part of the country, in Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, he felt perfectly safe. He felt protected by the power and might of the invincible Israeli military.

We American Jews must admire and support the men and women of the IDF in whatever they do, he asserted. We must not forget that "our" soldiers never target civilians with our bombs while the enemy, who wants nothing more than the destruction of Israel and Judaism, lobs its missiles without regard for the target. We must remember, he declared, that there is no moral equivalence.

At this I had enough. Julie was turning red with rage and I was fidgeting so much with anger and discomfort that we had to do something. We looked at each other knowingly, stood up, and left.

We had hoped for a pleasant Shabbat experience, for a release from the week, for the chance to participate in some small way in the rituals and religion we both have so many mixed feelings about. Instead we were berated by a man who boldly ignores the deep complexity of every issue confronting our people.

Solutions to the current crisis and resolution of our historic wounds will not happen by thoughtlessly repeating talking points. If we cannot, in our safest place, our house of worship and study, wrestle with the real problems then where can we? We must be honest about what it happening.

The war that is going on right now, that is killing men and women and children right now as I type these words, is the result of far more than the simple narrative of defense in the face of a cruel and heartless enemy. Israel made policy decisions that were wrong. When a nation is attacked and under threat there are multiple ways to resolve the situation. In very similar situations even Ariel Sharon engaged in prisoner exchanges. And yet when this situation arose, in both the Palestinian territories and Lebanon, Israel was forced to act from the position it imposed on itself by refusing to deal with the Hamas government in Palestine and by refusing to negotiate terms with Hezbollah.

Now it looks like Israel is bogged down in a conflict that looks eerily similar to the position of the United States in Iraq. Israel seems to have dramatically underestimated its opponent and is now suffering dearly.

Isn't military defeat at the hands of an enemy you have ridiculed a greater blow than the appearance of weakness risked by negotiation? Isn't this profound statement of weakness what is being risked?

I, as a human being and a Jew, do see moral equivalence here. I cry for senseless death on both sides. This war is not the only option. I am critical of Israeli policy not because I oppose Israel and support Hezbollah but because I think we must try to wrestle with the problems we see leading to and exacerbating this conflict. I feel closer to Israel, and to the American government in matters of American policy. I believe that reasoned analysis of their actions and ideas can help lead to a better solution, can help to choose something other than war from the "good" options before them.

But more on this and the current tragedy later.

The point at hand is that I feel that I cannot find individuals willing to discuss these issues with any depth in the Reform movement. The conversations always seem too black and white to even be worth having. Aren't we supposed to be a people steeped in debate, always rejecting definitive answers and nitpicking every shallow reason or excuse? That is what Judaism is for me, it is the compulsion to truly wrestle with the hardest issues as we try live them.

Since 4th grade this has been the movement of Judaism I have known to be my own but, for now at least, I cannot be a part of it.

So I'm happily crunching on some matzo at lunch with Julie today when we realize that the box of matzo we are eating out of is marked "NOT FOR PASSOVER USE." What kind of matzo isn't for passover?

This is apparently a common enough problem that the chief Rabbi at Manischewitz, the title implies that there are more than one rabbi in the exclusive employ of the Jewish food giant, has responded thusly to the question "What does 'Not for Passover Use' mean?"

This product is not suited for use on Passover and may also be considered "Chometz". Ask your local Rabbi for further information on this topic.

Thanks Rabbi Horowitz, that really helped.... I mean, it didn't help at all! My confusion is compounded by the next question on his little Ask the Rabbi page:

If Passover supervision is to ensure there is no leavening why are leavening agents added to some of our Kosher for Passover products? The criteria for leavening used in Kosher for Passover supervision is one set by the Rabbis. In their opinion, leavening agents added to a matzo meal product does not constitute leavening.

Sure guy, whatever you say.

Putting the leavening paradox aside, I decide to investigate the problem further. The tainted matzo in question was purchased in the Passover section of a grocery store and was produced by the venerable Streit's corporation of New York, New York. Their web site was of no use in my quest for answer to this question.

Turning to Google answered my question a little. According to Aharon's Jewish Books and Judaica of Denver, Colorado:

Matzah used all year-round is not for Passover use. Only matzah bake especially for Passover may be sued on Passover.

Despite their unfortunate typo, this helps but still doesn't make much sense. Is the intention of the preparer what is at issue here? Did Streit's decide that my matzo wasn't for Passover and therefore it isn't or are the ingredients different?

What differentiates matzo from bread is that the dough is not permitted to remain inactive for more than eighteen minutes once it gets wet. Shmura matzo is a special kind of matzo where the grain is strictly supervised from the time it is harvested but still falls under the eighteen minute rule.

Here's where I'm confused. In order to be matzo the dough must not be allowed to sit for more than eighteen minutes. If this is what makes it kosher for passover and is the definition of matzo how is not for Passover matzo possible?

Can anyone help me with this question?

Since the late 1980's, Coca-Cola drinkers in the United States have suffered with a beverage made without the sweetness of pure sugar. Some, as Rudi brought up in my last post, seek out Coke made in Mexico as it uses sugar as the exclusive sweetener.

What many Americans don't realize is that once a year this authentic Coca-Cola is not merely the provenance of foreigners but can be purchased at your local supermarket. According to NPR, Slate, and the Orthodox Union, Coca-Cola and Pepsi make special batches of their products to conform to the Ashkenazi prohibition on eating corn products.

If you are wanting to pick up some of this delicious nectar, just look for the OU or KP symbols on the bottle cap. The label may still say sugar or corn syrup but you can be sure that the symbol on the cap means sugar only.

For the first time I will not be spending Passover with my family in Peoria. The opportunity came up to attend a three day intensive training in Portland that I couldn't pass up. I get back late on the first night of Passover and thus won't get to do a first night seder and we don't have plans for the second night.

For most Jewish holidays this wouldn't bother me. Julie and I have so many other things going on what with her graduate school preparation and my design/programming self-improvement projects that neither of us are particularly into the religion thing right now. But Passover is different, we have always seen it as the holiday that most directly connects with what we see as meaningful and valuable in Judaism.

I delivered the dvar torah at last night's DC Reform Chavurah. Below you will find a transcript of my remarks:

As we near the end of counting the Omer, we begin reading Numbers as the portion describes the census of the people of Israel. Bamidbar tells of God\x82\xC4\xF4s counting of the tribes and the assigned structure given to each of the tribes as they protect the Ark on its journey to the Promised Land. It is at this point in the story that they believe their journey will soon end. We as readers know better and anticipate the 36 years left in their journey. The count itself is problematic in many ways but more interesting is the complexity of the site around which the narrative develops.

The literal translation of what is commonly called the Book of Numbers, referring to the counting of Israel as it grows into a nation, is \x82\xC4\xFAIn the Wilderness.\x82\xC4\xF9 It is in a barren desert that we watch the generation that emerged from slavery struggle with physical and spiritual hardship as they raise the generation that will eventually enter the Promised Land. It is in this story that the people of Israel are most physically proximate to God. Israel follows God this way and that wandering endlessly over the desert being brutally punished for transgressions and rewarded with teachings of laws and practices. This stern test of character takes the place of the anticipated quick transition to a nation. Israel must be made ready. A quick set of miracles is not enough. The Commandments are not enough. In the desolation of the Sinai a rebirth, regeneration, will take place. This time of incredible proximity to God is also a time of deep physical suffering and can be read almost as a way to understand the struggle of the soul to get closer to God through Torah.

The Haftorah portion elevates this theme in the Torah portion. God reminds us of the bounty of Israel before decrying its transgressions as those of an errant wife who seeks solace in the arms of lovers. This image of Israel as harlot, or prostitute, is deeply troubling when compared to the positive images of Shekinah and to our modern feminism. The text has God harass the wife, humiliating her until he permits her return and restores the covenant. God promises to take Israel as a spouse and again lead her through the wilderness.

As disturbing as this metaphor is in the level of physical degradation to the errant spouse, the metaphor can offer a key to struggling with a lover that is lost. Simply put, the Haftorah asks the reader to see God\x82\xC4\xF4s rebuke of Israel as coming out of love and not out of spite. This is tenuous in the text because of the brutality but poignant with respect to recent headlines.

Over the past few weeks, especially in today\x82\xC4\xF4s Washington Post, we have read about the abuse of Iraqi prisoners by American soldiers. We have also been confronted with the brutality of the policies of the current Israeli government as its agents fired a rocket into a crowd of unarmed protestors. The struggle of Israel with political idolatry in the Prophets and the challenges of wandering in the desert speak to the struggles that all of us face in grappling with policies and positions taken in our name that we reject. As Jews and as Americans we cannot help but be horrified by what has run on front pages for the last few weeks. But rather than distancing ourselves from these acts we must engage with our relationship to them. The state of Israel is in many ways an errant lover. The Bush administration has made a prostitute of our beloved Constitution and the political system built on it. But we must rebuke out of affection. We must work to redeem Judaism, Israel, and America to repay the debt incurred by transgression. Redemption is possible at a price.

Wandering in what feels like a political desert is an incredible weight to bear but it is in solidarity with our ancestors and future generations that we make the best of our time and our struggles. As Susan Sontag says in an article to run in this Sunday\x82\xC4\xF4s New York Times magazine, the photographs are us. If we are to rebuke Israel and our government we must do so out of our desire to make them better. God\x82\xC4\xF4s relationship to Israel in Numbers and in Prophets is foreign to our modern sensibilities but speaks to this basic dilemma for all of us. If we are to redeem a corrupted lover, Judaism, America, or Israel then we must challenge ourselves to remember what we love about them and renew that piece to restore beauty to the whole.

Tonight is erev Yom Kippur and I write having just returned from the Kol Nidrei service. All day I have felt worn down, dreary, and dizzy. This morning I awoke and continued my flash experiments for AU until noon when I was to meet my personal trainer (yes I now have a personal trainer, more on that as it develops) at Haussler. I biked over there and couldn't find her anywhere so I just worked out on my own. Luck would have it that the woman from my stats class that borrowed my notebook was coming to work as I was leaving so I was able to get in back in time to do my homework for Wednesday.

The reason I would have had to wait is simply that I couldn't remember her name, much like I can't remember the name of my personal trainer so I can't call her to reschedule our session. Forgetfulness is a transgression I need to ask forgiveness for this Yom Kippur. I forget to write back to people I care deeply about. Rob Levy, Anne Marie Mollenberndt, Wade Meyer, Felice Kelley, and many forgotten more go left without letters. I want to write and I will! (at least I hope I will, there really is no excuse not to other than laziness and thoughtlessness, two characteristics that I do not wish to posses).

So tonight was the Yom Kippur service and I went feeling bad to start but seeing all these people again, all those Mercedes and Lexus SUV's reminded me of how alienated I am from the community here. It is hard to be a Jew alone. I have Julie and my parents but four isn't even half a minyon. Rabbi Jodey, as she is affectionately and condescendingly known by the congregation was a little nervous and reminded me to see people as people and people make mistakes (a terrible sentence I realize). Then the choir with organ accompaniment reminded me of the same thing. Just because they are terrible and almost impossible to sing along with making the high holy days into a spectator sport does not mean they shouldn't be listened to. My problem is that I listen to edited recordings and have lost my sensitivity and appreciating for the genuine article. Or so I argued until I realized that these people were hooked up to a sound board and still didn't sound that great. But I digress.

Rabbi Jodey's sermon centered around the increasingly "virtual" nature of our material realities. Cell phones, pagers, laptops, TV's with DVD players in SUV's, handheld computers, the internet, and digital cameras have invaded what was once our pastoral everyday lives. When she as a girl would take a family vacation she would interact with her family but now everyone wears headphones and is plugged in to somewhere or something else. We are living, as the argument goes, in a world more virtual than real. The importance of her point is the disconnection from our relationships and our realities. Our communities, in this case our Jewish community suffers, when we log on to minyon instead of walking to schul. The principle is lost when we fax a prayer to the Western Wall rather than praying here and now. Visiting a place isn't the same online as it is in its physicality.

Or is it? For those fortunate enough to live in worlds surrounded by like minded and similarly interested individuals, technology can lead to disconnection, voice mail instead of a friendly visit. For those who can afford "real" vacations, who have the money to take a trip to nature or to another land; for those who can afford to take the time to unplug without sacrificing their well-being she is correct. But for the rest of us, she is not seeing the whole picture. It is too simple to say that virtual reality is a) not reality and b) bad for reality. Lesbians and gay men, for example, can use the internet as a way to build real community. When isolated in a physical place a digital "coming out" is a real liberation; the virtual can be more real than the real.

But then there is the fact that the internet is used more often by reactionary right-wing movements than progressives. A simple search for "Talmud" renders thousands of anti-Semitic hate pages and Hasidic pages. It is very hard to find a resource that would speak to my progressive Judaism. The internet has become a home for those who see its potential. Matt Hale is bigger than real life on the internet. A web page, unlike any other media, offers the creator total control. The user gets no other opinion than that being shown them on the page without taking the time to research alternative positions; rare is the web designer that links to the opposition. Fortunately Google offers an easy solution to this but don't forget what such a search will generate.

If there were an online community for me I would embrace it. The opportunity to virtually attend Temple Micah in Washington, DC, or some other liberal congregation would be far better and more relational than physically attending weekly services here. The important point is to understand the potential of the internet and of change. To see it as bad and to criticize as artificial and not able to measure up to reality leave it to those you oppose in your real world. This is part of a larger problem facing progressive movements of all kind, both in and out of Judaism. We are losing the cutting edge to the "enemy." Neo-cons are hip and online. Christian punk is in. We need to embrace change and new technologies as the future of our ideas and as a way to give us new consciousness of them. For those living in "virtual" worlds, they see their lives as just as real as I see mine. The question should be, how can I understand that not what is wrong with that?