Tu B'Av, T'shuvah and Tying it Together

In G-d I Trust? Nope! and You Can't Make Me!

2011-06-24T20:49:00.000-07:00

I read an article today about a possible new license plate design for Georgia. Each design has some Peach element in it (shocker! not!) but what did shock me was that a few of the designs had "In God We Trust" at the bottom. I am outraged.

I am a purist when it comes to religion/state separation. I don't think we should have prayer before senate/congress sessions at any level of government, I don't think G-d should be mentioned in the Pledge of Allegiance and I don't think "In G-D We Trust" should be on our money. I am always angry when I hear of public schools holding graduation in churches (illegal by the way and I was part of a case that won this battle <- read about it here). So imagine my outrage at the thought that I will be required by law to declare on the bumper of my car something that I feel shouldn't be there (and if you have read my blog at all (or just this entry), you also know is an untrue statement - I don't trust G-d).

So here is the letter I wrote the Commissioner today. If you live in Georgia and agree with me, even slightly, please take the time to write him as well here:

Dear Commissioner,

My name is Robyn Faintich and I am a 5-year resident of Roswell, GA. For almost 16 years, I have been dedicated my career to being a full-time Jewish educator working with teens and their families to help them live their American lives through a Jewish lens. One topic we often engage in revolves around the issues of religion/state separation. Our families battle these issues daily in schools, public universities, town hall meetings, etc. We often engage the Anti-Defamation League to help us decipher where the law protects our rights and where it doesn't. I have not reached out to them yet on the issue for which I am writing you about, but am prepared to do so.

I just read about the new proposed license plate designs and was completely disheartened to see "In God We Trust" on several of the designs. My relationship with God, my belief or non-belief is MY personal choice. How can my state government require me to put the word "God" on my car? How can my state government require me to proclaim something from my bumper that I might not believe in?

If one of these designs is chosen, I will end up risking fines because I will NOT put this plate on my car unaltered. I would find it necessary to blacken out those words.

Please consider the serious personal religious rights violation these license plates will cause. I implore you to remove these designs from the possibilities.

Thank you in advance for your consideration. I hope to hear from you on this matter.

Robyn Faintich

Roswell, GA

To Remember. Yizkor.

2011-04-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

This blog was originally posted on Challah Back, the Jewish Federation of North America NextGen blog.

Yizkor. It’s the part of the Yom Kippur service where all the young people hang out in the hallway. While growing up, most young Jews were told one of two things about why they were in the hallway: a) this part of the service is very solemn, so the young people are asked to leave so they don’t disrupt and/or b) it’s bad luck to be in Yizkor until you have to be. It’s an ayin hara (and evil eye) on your loved ones.

It wasn’t until my mid-teens that I even learned that Yizkor happens four times a year. Yom Kippur was the instance I knew about, but there is actually a custom ofYizkor also being recited on the three pilgirimage festivals: Sukkot, Pesach, Shavuot(the Sukkot one corresponds to the chagim of Shemini Atzeret/Simhat Torah, depending on your observance).

I am no longer in the hallway for Yizkor. My father passed away on October 16, 2009. Last year, Pesach Yizkor was my first experience. It was so overwhelmingly painful. When you lose a loved one, people say, “It gets easier.” This week was my fifth Yizkor service, and the truth is, it hasn’t gotten any easier. The tears still flowed freely, and my heart ached with the sheer reality that I had a reason to be there.

When I looked around, I realized I was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, in the room (other than the rabbi himself). At 37 years old, I kept saying to myself, “I am too young to be here. It’s not fair. I still want to be in the hallway.” The heart-wrenching images of my father’s final week, and of the funeral itself, all bombarded me.

As my gaze fell on the members of the congregation, I tried to conjure images and stories of how long each person had been attending Yizkor, and tried to consider the person they were standing in memory of. As the tears rolled down my face, I could only wonder, will this get easier?

When I am standing here five years from now, will the painful memories of my loss still be as clear in my mind’s eye? When I am standing here 10 years from now, will the tears still roll freely? When I am standing here 20 years from now, will I still feel the hole in my heart and the “unfairness” of it all? When I am standing here 30 years from now, will I remember the sound of his voice? Will I remember?

And yet there was one question above them all that nagged at me the most. It was the question the rabbi asked in the moments preceding the Yizkor service. He led a conversation asking parents in the room, “At what moment have you felt the most honored by your children?” All I wanted to do was pick up the phone, call my dad, and ask him how he would answer that. And the fact that I couldn’t triggered another set of dripping tears and feelings that “It’s not fair.”

Being a Straight Ally

2010-10-05T14:55:00.001-07:00

This week, we have been bombarded by injustices surrounding the LGBTQQI community. Multiple suicides of young adults who were bullied and outcast because of their personal identity. To help prevent this from happening again, celebrities have been recording messages standing up and asking for the greater community to help. Friends and neighbors who are gay making "It Only Gets Better" videos on YouTube - targeted to young LBGTQQI people who are struggling. Leaders of LGBT organizations were asking friends and colleagues to go back to their elementary, middle and high schools (and religious organizations) to request that they open GSA's (Gay-Straigh Alliances) and work hard to protect our young people. Organizations like Keshet are asking us to sign commitments to stand up for bullying and discriminatory injustices in our Jewish communities. [I have already signed it as a sponsoring agency with my consulting firm.]

And then, The Jewish Standard (a Jewish newspaper in NJ) writes this:

Given the tenor of the times, we did not expect the volume of comments we have received, many of them against our decision to run the announcement, but many supportive as well.

A group of rabbis has reached out to us and conveyed the deep sensitivities within the traditional/Orthodox community to this issue. Our subsequent discussions with representatives from that community have made us aware that publication of the announcement caused pain and consternation, and we apologize for any pain we may have caused.

The Jewish Standard has always striven to draw the community together, rather than drive its many segments apart. We have decided, therefore, since this is such a divisive issue, not to run such announcements in the future.

This is the note that I wrote to the Jewish Standard publisher upon hearing of their printing of this:

Dear Mr. Janoff,

I am writing to you as one voice in a firestorm of voices you are hearing right now on the issue of the same-sex engagement announcement. My name is Robyn Faintich and I live in Atlanta, GA. You may be wondering why someone from Atlanta is taking interest in a situation with a NJ Jewish paper.

First of all, I am a Jewish educator and have been for 15 years. I consult in Jewish communities all over the country and therefore my Jewish interests know no geographic limitations. Second, as a Jewish educator, especially when I work with youth and teens, I try to instill in them a sense of meschlichkite and the idea of making all choices through a Jewish ethical lens. I believe your team did not make a meschlichkite decision. Third, I teach these youngsters to stand up for the injustices in the world, whether it be in their home, school, neighborhood, country, or the world. How can I teach them this and not stand up against this injustice? Fourth, I also happen to have a degree in Journalism and when I was in school, I was taught that news outlets must remain impartial, and I believe you failed to do that as well. Lastly, in a time when we are bombarded in the news with stories of young gay, lesbian, transgender and questioning teens killing themselves, I can't call myself a Straight Ally and turn my head while you add to their emotional pain and burden.

Of these issues, I want to remind you of Jewish ethics that I feel needed to weigh into this decision. The Jewish value of not embarrassing, the Jewish value of love your neighbor as yourself, and the Jewish value of celebrating with a Jewish couple as they approach Chuppah. I believe your stakeholders made this choice out of fear and not through the lens of Jewish ethics. What a shame.

Please reconsider the message you are sending and the role modeling you are doing (or lack thereof) by maintaining this hurtful decision.

Sincerely,

Robyn Faintich

p.s. I am almost afraid to ask what your policy is for publishing interfaith announcements ... if you do that and don't publish same-sex Jewish couple announcements it makes this situation even worse.

After hitting the send button, I wish I had written more. I wish I had asked them what their policy is/will be when a Lesbian couple has a child with a donor or a gay couple adopts ... will they deny the child the welcoming s/he deserves into the Jewish community? Because their parents are gay and it might offend someone?

Some people may question why I would get involved ... since I am not gay. I never feel like I have done enough when it comes to being a Straight Ally. Despite learning as much as I can from my gay friends and family members, about their journeys and their struggles, I can never truly understand. But I do understand what it is like to be teased and bullied. I understand what it is like to be a minority. So it's with that emotion and commitment to humanity that continues to motivate me to stand up and to make it my fight, too.

Elul Reflections 6-10:

2010-08-28T19:17:00.000-07:00

Elul 6: http://jewishsagesoftoday.com/ essay on Michael Berenbaum who is a prolific Holocaust expert said that he is "protecting Jewish memory." What do you do to protect Jewish memory?

I think the easy answer to this is about being a Jewish educator, but I think it is more than

that. While the collective Jewish memory is incredibly important, the familial Jewish

memory might even be more so. One of my favorite times is when my extended family (most often my mom's family) is sitting around telling stories, passing them from generation to generation. I remember times where people have sat in total shock about a "family scandal" and other times when people are laughing so hard they are crying. These moments have duality - they are perpetuating the family memories of the past and creating new memories to be layered on top. I am lucky to have such wonderful relationships with so many of my extended family members, and hope that this continues for many generations into the future.

Photo Above Right: 13 of 34 members of 4th generation Goldman Family.

Elul 7: Rachel Brodie writes about the emotion around the birth of her 2nd child. When has the capacity of your own love for someone/something surprised you?

(http://www.craignco.com/jewels/)

When I was told that my brother and sister-in-law were expecting their first child, I

was incredibly hesitant to let myself feel any emotion. I lived 1800 miles away, and had no idea how I would be a part of this child's life. The months leading up to the birth, I didn't even buy a single item for this child. The phone rang on August 8th, 2004 about 5 a.m. my time ... and I was told my sister-in-law was in labor. And I just laid in bed, phone in my hand, and cried. When I got the call later that the baby was born and they were waiting to hear if it was a boy or girl, I cried even harder. When I was told it was a boy, and his name - Evan Samuel, and that everyone

was healthy. I cried tears of joy. Then when the first picture was emailed to me (via a friend's phone), I sat on the floor and fell in love in an instant. (And then I booked a flight to St. Louis and went to Disneyland and spent $300 on gifts for him.) On June 28, 2006, Jack Ian came into our lives ... and my heart expanded to let the love flood in for this new nephew. I am lucky, that now at ages 4 and 6, I have such a beautiful relationship with both boys, despite never living in the same city as them, and despite only seeing them about four times a year. I know, I would do ANYTHING to protect them, give them unconditional love, and help guide them into their futures.

Photos: Evan (top) Jack (bottom)

Elul 8: Rabbi Joshua Levine Grater writes forhttp://www.craignco.com/jewels/) about the creative process he goes through to write sermons. What is your muse? What inspires you to express yourself?

When I sat to reflect on this question, the first answer that popped into my head shocked me. Anger. When I get angry about something - whether it's an injustice, a philosophy I don't agree with, being hurt by someone, a loss, a movie I didn't like, an issue I think that needs to be addressed ... the words just flow. I would like to have a muse more ethereal, maybe with time ... maybe with a love of b'shert ... maybe with my own children.

Elul 9: Comes from Rabbi Hayim Herring's @toolsforshuls http://toolsforshuls.com/ When were you recently at your best? When do you think that the Jewish people acted at its best? When do you think a significant part of the world behaved at its best?

I think that by launching my own consulting business, I have created so many new opportunities to be at my best. Those moments when I am teaching, learning, sharing, collaborating, exploring, growing, challenging, creating, connecting --- all in the same breath.

I think the Jewish people have rarely acted our best .... and in all the cases I come close to naming - they are in tragedy: 9/11, Yitzhak Rabin's assassination, hurricane Katrina, Daniel Pearl's execution ... we have a lot to work on. And again, when I think a significant part of the world behaved its best - probably 9/11 ... but just because the majority of the world was on good behavior, there was still so much hatred swirling - against Arabs, against Muslims, against America ... that it detracts to much.

Elul 10: Rabbi Shlomo RIskin writes for Craig Taubman's Jewels of Elul about being challenged & effectively standing up for his choice. In the past year, what choice have you been asked to defend and you walked away feeling good about it? http://www.craignco.com/jewels/)

Two things come to mind. The first is that when one of my cats was incredibly ill earlier this year, several people kept challenging my choice to put a lot of money and a lot of effort into trying to save her life. I have no regrets (as she sits in my lap now purring). I also had to choose during that time to walk away from a cruise that I had been planning with friends since last June ... and I don't regret that either. The second, is in my choice to take this untraditional path and not enter back into full-time employment, but instead to work on my EdD and build up my business. Sometimes you end up defending the untraditional professional path, but feeling great you took the risk.

Next blog: Elul 11-16

Elul Reflections 1-5

2010-08-15T08:57:00.001-07:00

As I have been posting questions about Elul reflections, some people have asked me to answer my own questions, so here goes:

Elul 1: Reading http://jewishsagesoftoday.com/. The introduction has me reflecting on Jewish heroes, who made me the Jew I am-Who are yours?

Who made me the Jew I am? I can't respond without including my parents and grandparents. But, I also have to include a great-grandmother whom I only met once when I was a newborn. My mom's maternal grandmother, Tillie Goldman, was a matriarch of 7 children, 17 grandchildren, 34 great-grandchildren (including me), and countless more great-great grandchildren, and even a great-great-great grandchild. Bubbie, as she is known to each of her descendants, was a traditional Jew, originally from Prussia, who came to the States

and maintained her observance of kashrut and of Shabbat. She lived in Israel for a while, establishing orphanages and funding Yeshivot. When she turned ill, her children brought her back to the States, but her wish was to be buried in Israel. Recently, I had the honor of visiting her grave (photo to the right).

In addition to Bubbie, my parents and grandparents, I have had countless Jewish peers and educators influence the Jew I am today. Here are a few: Joanne Barrington Lipshutz, Rabbi Avi Greene, Rabbi Ken Greene, Rabbi David Paskin, Rabbi Arnie Samlan, Yossi Katz, Rabbi Zvi Berger, David Mitchell, Maxine Weil, Joan Wolchansky, Harlene Appleman, Roberta Goodman, Elliot Gershenson, Cantor Mark Levine, Rabbi Kelley Gludt, and more!

Elul 2: Read the essay on Yossi Abramowitz in Jewish Sages of Today. The author quotes Abramowitz, "Values are what you live by, vision is what you live towards, and leadership is just simply living your values towards your vision." What are your values? What's your vision?

I guess my most basic value is Kavod (respect). Others include Kehillah (community), Mishpacha (family), G'milut Chesed (helping others meet their needs), Muchshar (capable/competent), and Nichul (leadership). My vision is living in a respectful family and community where people are competent and capable leaders whereby their goals include helping others meet their needs and build a strong Jewish identity.

If you are looking for an activity to help you figure this out, you can order Value Cards from 21/64 - a Jewish organization helping families figure out their philanthropy priorities.

Elul 3: More Abramowitz. He talks about Keeping Jews Jewish. What have you done this year to keep YOU Jewish? Others Jewish?

In terms of keeping myself Jewish, I have continued to immerse myself in my own Jewish experiences, including volunteering through JF&CS, serving on the leadership team for LimmudSE+Atlanta, and starting my EdD in Jewish Education Leadership. In terms of keeping others Jewish, my professional work, in the end is all about keeping Jews Jewish. In addition, my leadership role and presenting role in Limmud helps keep other Jews Jewish.

Elul 4: The next essay in Jewish Sages of Today is on Rachel Azaria. When Rachel sees injustice, she seeks change. What injustices have you tried to change?

I have been a big proponent of equal marriage rights for everyone in the U.S. I have helped use my voice to email/talk to people about this issue, including defeating Prop 8 in California.

Elul 5: The Jewels of Elul (http://www.craignco.com/jewels/) for this day is from Rabbi Naomi Levy. She tells a beautiful story of her daughter with physical challenges surprising her. When have you surprised yourself by overcoming a major obstacle?

I have always battled being significantly overweight (I think doctors have called me morbidly obese). However, I have tried to not let this be an obstacle for me - still climbing Masada, going snorkeling, riding a waverunner, going ATVing, etc. And as much as I had surprised myself by being able to do all of that, I think overcoming the obstacle of "giving up" and always being that size, I have shocked myself at my commitment to being a healthier person. While there are still daily battles to overcome, I have lost about 120 lbs (still have about 50 more to go) and every day consider the choices I am making.

Today Before

Back in the Saddle

2010-08-13T07:35:00.001-07:00

Last year I blogged about how I need Elul to ramp up to the High Holy Days. So this year I am doing two things to prepare (see my work blog here for details).

The question asked on the first day of Elul in Jewels of Elul, was:

If you had to count the number of times you “got back in the saddle again” this year after a fall, how many times would it be? Is it harder or easier the more times you do it?

Well, let's count, shall we?

Dad died
Agency Funding Ran Out = Out of Work
Cat almost died
Relationships ended
Was sick for 5 months which resulted in 20" of my colon being removed
Denied reasonable health coverage TWICE and medical expenses tapped me out
Oh, and there was that random flat tire which always causes a headache!

I would say it isn't harder or easier the more times you do it, it's just hard. But with some support from friends and family (THANK YOU to each and every one of you), you manage to get back up and face the world again.

It is also important to admit when the horse has dumbed you one-too-many times, and you need a professional counselor or pastoral care, to help you help yourself to get back in the saddle. Some people see that as a weakness, but it's truly strength that allows you to admit when, despite their love and care, family and friends just aren't strong enough to hoist you up.

The Holy Days are about reflection and refocusing. They are about admitting our mistakes and committing to not make them again. They are about visioning your future and beginning to take the steps to enact that vision. And in that way, it's really about today. About now. It's not about "do it tomorrow" or "do it next year" .... which reminds me of this song from the musical RENT (listen to it here):

The heart may freeze or it can burn

The pain will ease if I can learn

There is no future
There is no past
Thank God this moment's not the last

There's only usThere's only this
Forget regret-- or life is yours to miss.
No other road
  No other way
No day but today
There's only yes
Only tonight
  We must let go
To know what is alright
No other course
No other way
No day but today
  I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only hope
is just to be
 There's only now
There's only here
Give in to love
Or live in fear
No other path
No other way
No day but today

2010-07-01T20:51:00.000-07:00

Originally posted on Davar Acher blog ...

I am one of those people who has always thinks "Help" is a dirty four-letter word. For some reason it feels like failure, it feels like a loss of independence, and it certainly feels vulnerable. Of course, I am always willing to help others - enjoy doing it, but almost never admit I need help or ask for it myself. Well, until recently. In my personal life, I have just come through three serious situations over the past 8 months that required me to ask for help.

The first was in October 2009 when my father had a cardiac event, was in and out of a coma for a week, and then died. I asked for help a lot those two weeks and each time, people were jumping at the chance to be there to support me in some way. I asked for meals, I asked for someone to send me clothes (my family is in St. Louis and I live in ATL), I asked for someone to just check and answer my voicemails. I asked for someone to take care of my cats. I asked for people to pray for my father. I asked a friend from out-of-town to drop everything and come officiate the funeral. Despite the fact it was tremendously hard for me to ask for all of these things, it was easy for people to respond "yes."

For those of you who are pet people, you will understand my second instance .... In April, one of my cats suddenly took deathly ill. The vets didn't think she was going to make it, and the over the course of a week she went from "fine" to battling about a half-dozen ailments. It was all I could do to go back and forth from the vet, to the animal hospital (where she was overnight on i.v.'s), to my house, and back again. I didn't eat or sleep for almost 8 days ... and I found that I had to ask for help that week. I was so distraught, I wasn't functioning, and yet it still took me 5 days into the chaos to ask for help. Just asking a friend to come be with me when I couldn't be alone - a friend who came over and held me while I just cried and cried and cried. A friend who forced me to eat (and cooked for me), a friend who brought over ice cream without my needing to ask. And yet asking for that help was so painful ... but receiving it was so comforting.

Three weeks ago, I had 20" of my colon removed ... and found myself in the third situation where I had to ask for help. Help from family, help from nurses (great nurses rock and are under-appreciated!), help from neighbors and friends. Each time, my independence threatened to get in the way of asking for the help ... but each time my community came through for me on so many levels. Even people from across the globe recognized that one way they could help - even though geographically disadvantaged - was by cheering on my spirits - sending notes, text messages, emails, flowers, books, magazines, gift certificates, etc. (This Jim Joseph Fellows community put a smile on my face more than once the last few weeks!)

So why is it that it takes serious - life threatening (whether for me or for a loved-one of mine) for me to be able to ask for help? Why is when people are so generous and willing to give, I hesitate to ask? Why is it that despite the fact that people have proven to have truly giving spirits over the past 8 months, that I still will wait for crisis to ask for help? And if this is how I respond in my personal life, professionally it is even harder to ask for help ... Why can't I give myself over to asking without hesitation?

Reflecting on it, I am reminded that one of the first acts in Torah is G-d telling Adam that he needs a help-mate.

Genesis 2:18:

And God said: 'It is not good that the man should be alone;

I will make him a help mate for him.'

This is a reminder to all of us ...we are made in G-d's image, and it is innate in us to recognize when someone needs help. It is important for us to recognize that both the act of helping and the act of being helped are holy. It truly is that simple.

And just as simple is the response when someone helps you.... say "Thank You."

So I offer up this blog as a Todah Rabah for all the people who have helped me - particularly over the last 8 months. You have not only helped me in the moment I needed it, but you have also helped me better be able to ask for help.

JEWISH TIME

2010-05-16T17:59:00.000-07:00

Cross Posted to: Davar Acher

One of my personal Jewish outlets is participating in Limmud Southeast+Atlanta. As you may know Limmud is an international organization that represents a cross-communal approach to Jewish learning. It began in 1980 in the UK and now has about 35 all over the world.

Limmud Southeast+Atlanta has several events through the year; the highlights are a day-long Limmud in March, a full weekend over Labor Day called LimmudFest, and piloting a Jewish music festival this June. I am an active VOLUNTICIPANT (a cool Limmud concept for a participant who is also a volunteer!). For LimmudFest 2010, I am the co-chair of a committee called Participant Care (i.e. hospitality, special needs requests, transportation, housing, etc). It is such a rewarding experience to be involved in Jewish community for personal reasons and not just professional ones.

Limmud gives me a phenomenal multi-generational community amid which I have made some of my closest friends in Atlanta. They are all people who are committed to Jewish life - however they personally define it. They are engaged, intelligent, and loving (not to mention a ton of fun!). Limmud gives me an outlet for my post-denomination Judaism. Limmud gives me on-going adult Jewish learning for learning's sake. Limmud has given me front-line access to some of the world's best Jewish educators. But now, Limmud has given me something else.

I was recently asked to represent Limmud Southeast+Atlanta to be a part of an international Limmud project called the Chevruta Project. It is a book, published once a year, in which texts are examined around one theme, through many lenses, and by-way of both traditional and modern texts. The Chevruta book is divided into four sections and each section is developed by a geographic team. This year's theme is TIME and my team is North America. The North America team has representatives from Toronto, New Orleans, Chicago, NY, Boston, LA, Philly and Colorado. The section of the book we were assigned is around Communal Time.

In thinking about on-line learning communities, one of the greatest strengths is what has become known as "crowd-sourcing." The Jim Joseph Fellowship has reinforced the useful nature of tapping into the collective wisdom of a community. So combining my participation in the Fellowship with my participation in the Limmud Chevruta Project, I wanted to take this opportunity to ask all of the Davar Acher readers to participate in crowd-sourcing around the topic of Jewish Time. I invite you to answer any one, a few, or all of the questions below.

What does Jewish Time mean to you?
What traditional texts best frame or guide your view of Jewish time?
What modern texts do this?
How does Personal Jewish Time play out in your life?
How does Communal Jewish Time play out in your life?
What comes to mind when the concept of G-d's Time is introduced?
Do you have thoughts about Eternal Time?

I look forward to the amazing discussion I think we can have in asynchronous TIME about this topic.

NOTE: Picture to left is Salvador Dali's "The Persistence of Time"

Slavery to Freedom

2010-03-26T04:59:00.000-07:00

There has been much discussion about the high cost of being involved in Jewish life .... day school, congregation dues, JCC dues, summer camp, youth group conventions, fundraisers, b'nei mitzvah celebrations, Federation campaign, Israel trips ... my check book hurts just thinking about it. But this has been talked about at great length by many of my colleagues. What I want to talk about is Pesach.

I hate Pesach. I think it is a true experiential learning opportunity (and not just the Seder) ... but I face the cleaning, the changing of dishes, the cooking, the family tension around the Seder table, the week feeling cabin feverish (because I don't eat out at all and can't get that out-of-the-house social interaction with many friends), and lastly the shopping, as my own personal slavery. Let's be honest, observing Pesach in the most strict of ways is a total pain in the ass. And somehow, that last night at sundown - walking out of the house and heading to an Italian restaurant (come on - admit it, you probably eat pizza or pasta to break the Pesach restrictions) - that moment is my own personal freedom.

This year, I have even a stronger dislike for the holiday. Firstly, it is the first Pesach since my father passed away and while my family doesn't have many strong Pesach traditions, there will be the sense of the "empty chair" void left by his absence. Second, it is always difficult to go away for Sederarim and still have to come back to my house and have it kashered for just a few days. [Note: The best Pesach I ever spent was at a Kosher-for-Passover resort in Puerto Rico! But it's very expensive as a guest and I spent it as a staff person.] Third, this year I am dealing with incredible transition in my life both professionally and personally. My exhaustion managing the events in my life has left me completely depleted for REAL kashering and so I have personally wrestled with how much do I allow myself to not do and how what standard of Pesach cannot I just not give up.

And lastly ... there's the shopping. This year I faced the shopping through the eyes of those who have to watch their spending very carefully. I am blessed that in the years past, I have not had to worry about each item I placed in my cart and the total at the end of the day. But this year, it's different. This year, I am one of those people for whom the budget is enslaving and therefore the cost to be Jewish a true burden. Should the capitalism of the industry actually cause people to make painful choices between observance and not? Are the Kosher for Passover manufacturers and the grocery stores our modern-day Pharoah?

I say: Let My People Go. I am not sure if I am going to articulate this clearly, but I think as Klal Yisrael - as a people, we need to wonder this desert together. We need to bond together and have some leadership facilitate our collective negotiating and price monitoring. We also need to advocate for individual-sized portions/containers of many of the items. Being single, I am stuck paying for many family-sized items. I am not familiar at all with the process of how the prices get set, but what I do know is that my Judaism shouldn't be for sale at I price I cannot afford.

I want to be able to truly celebrate Pesach, in the spirit it was intended and I don't want to resent the process. I want to see the Promised Land ...

Chag Kasher v'Sameach Pesach.

My Valentine Dilemma

2010-02-09T21:46:00.000-08:00

So we spend so much time focused on the traditional "December Dilemma" that we often forget the many holidays that we as Jews in America encounter, but aren't ours. Halloween. Valentine’s Day. Thanksgiving. Fourth of July. Living as a Jew in America means existing with a constant dual tension. While some of these holidays may have been Americanized to a point where their original meanings aren’t even recognizable, there are implications for observing them as Jews. As the secular calendar brings us to each of these, I will look at some of the holiday origins and will offer ways to encounter them Jewishly and also point out how Jews observe similar celebrations.

If we asked a second grader in 2010 about Valentine's Day, we would most likely hear about love, hearts, sweet tarts, candy, red/pink, flowers, cards, etc. And while this may be the Americanization/Secularization of the holiday, it isn't really the basis for the holiday. Ask the average adult, and they might tell you that they know it was originally St. Valentine's Day, but beyond that, have no historical context. They might re-iterate the seven year-old's list, and then go on to add jewelry, a date night out, and romance/sex. But again, no real historical context.

So, in our attempt to evaluate how Jews should approach the day, we must first look at the historical account of Valentine's Day. [www.petalsnetwork.com/info/valentines.htm, www.homiliesbyemail.com/Special/Valentine/history.txt]

The first interpretation has The Feast of Lubercus celebration originating as a pagan tradition in the third century. During this time hordes of hungry wolves roamed outside of Rome where shepherds kept their flocks. The God Lupercus, was said to watch over the shepherds and their flocks and keep them from the wolves. Every February the Romans celebrated a feast called Lupercalia to honor Lupercus so that no harm would come to the shepherds and their flocks. Also during Lupercalia, but in honor of the goddess Juno Februata, the names of young women were put into a box and names were drawn by lot. The boys and girls who were matched would be considered partners for the year, which began in March. This celebration continued long after wolves were a problem to Rome.

Valentines Day started in the time of the Roman Empire. Under the rule of Emperor Claudius II - Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular military campaigns. Claudius the Cruel, as he was known at the time, was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families. As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in Rome.

This was when a Christian priest named Valentine came to defend love in the empire. Valentine began to secretly marry couples despite the emperors orders. When Emperor Claudius was informed of these ceremonies Valentine was sent to prison where he remained until his death on February 14 in the year 270.

It wasn't until a few hundred years later when Valentine's Day began to develop as we know it. At the time Christianity was beginning to take control of Europe.

As part of this effort the Church sought to do away with pagan holidays. Valentine's Day came to replace a mid-February fertility festival called Lupercalia. In honor of his sacrifice for love Valentine was made a saint and Lupercalia renamed in his honor.

Interesting, huh? But what did we learn ... this holiday is based in Pagan, Roman and Christian history ... the date was chosen because it is the date that Valentine died ... and it's really about standing up for something you believe in (in this case it just happened to be the right to love and marry). Knowing this, based solely in the history, should Jews observe this holiday? [I would be interested in a healthy debate about this.]

On the other hand, if it's just about celebrating love, weddings, marriage, partnership, etc ... then Judaism provides us our own holiday to do so. {disclaimer: some of the following may have been adapted from other sources, but I originally put it together over 5 years ago, so I can't remember what was originally mine, and what was adapted....}

Picture this, as we go back in time: women clad in white, dancing in vineyards, men flocking to see them. As the second century Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel put it, “There were no better, happier days for the People of Israel than the Fifteenth of Av and Yom Kippur, since on these days the daughters of Israel/Jerusalem got all dressed in white and danced in the vineyards. What were they saying: Young man, consider whom you choose (to be your wife)…” —Taanit, Chaper 4

Centuries before Hallmark even thought about Valentine’s Day cards, Tu B’Av was a day that did more than celebrate love. It sanctified it. It ushered it into the highest realms of spirituality. Although it is difficult to cite the origins of the holiday, the Gemara says that on this day the biblical “tribes of Israel were permitted to mingle with each other,” namely: to marry women from other tribes.

This was no meat market. Women were not to be judged solely by the shape of their bodies and the clothes that they wore, but by their character. In fact, it is said these women all borrowed white dresses that looked the exact same; that way, men had to look beyond their surface for a deep inner beauty. This was the day where the interior was as important as the exterior (and maybe even more.) The rabbis who ushered in this holiday understood that true love could not exist without substance, without respect, without an acknowledgement of another person’s inner beauty. Can you think of a better cause to celebrate than this?

So while I won't turn down flowers, chocolates, jewelry, love notes and "I Love You/Be Mine" sentiments any day of the year, I would prefer that extra-something come my way on Tu B'av and not specifically on Feb 14th.

And, just in case you need/want to add it to your calendar on my behalf ... here's the dates for the next three years.

Erev Tu B'Av:

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Thursday, August 2, 2012

p.s. Note the name of my blog ... get it now?

MLK and Shared Dreams H.S. Lesson

2010-01-14T13:47:00.000-08:00

Here is a link to a lesson I wrote when I was working for the BJE of Orange County.

The lesson is based on the book and associated lesson plan book

SHARED DREAMS: Martin Luther King, Jr. & The Jewish Community

BY RABBI MARC SCHNEIER

PRESIDENT, THE FOUNDATION FOR ETHNIC UNDERSTANDING

The lesson is most appropriate for 10th-12th graders.

Minding the Gap

2010-01-13T11:10:00.000-08:00

Kaplan PSAT/SAT 20hrs of private tutoring = $2,599

Kaplan SAT Class, 8 lessons (approx. 20 hours) = $499

Gymnastics Class, 1 session (50 minutes) per week @ $75/month x 9 months = $675

Tennis Lessons, with Junior Pro, $75/hr x 30 weeks = $2,250

Jewish education = it's always too much (according to the parents).

When Jewish education institutions provide high-quality, high-impact programming to children and their families, somehow we can never charge what it is exactly costing us to implement the programs, much less to even make a little profit to invest in other agency programs.

For example, one program I know of costs a community bewteen $1200-$1800 per teen (depending on enrollment numbers) to run the program. It takes place two and a half hours per week, 25-30 weeks a year, with highly respected teaching faculty, social breaks with breakfast or lunch, a few parent programs, and occasional guest speakers. However, the agency that runs the program feels that the parents won't pay anything more than $400 per year. (BTW, this comes out to about $5.75 per hour - less than babysitting these days!) How do we mind (aka fund) this gap?

There are only two ways to do it (that I know of - suggestions welcome):

a) Philanthropists

b) Change the culture of what families will pay for services

I will leave the discussion of philanthropists and turn to the issue of parents and financial priorities.

When we know parents are making significant financial investments in non-Jewish activities like SAT Prep and Tennis Lessons (itemized above), how do we make the case for investing these dollars in Jewish education? How do we convince them that they should pay more for quality Jewish education than they do for babysitting? and even for SAT prep courses? How do we articulate the need for their children to have a Jewish education in order to have a solid future (which seems to be how they view the other activities)?

In most circles, it would articulated that parents have been trained (over generations) to not pay for Jewish education because:

a) congregations/agencies wanted to limit the barriers to participation so they began offering low-cost portals;

b) the quality has been collectively so poor over the years that consumers don't want to invest significant dollars; and

c) we haven't made the case, again over generations, that Judaism is critical to a successful future

In some ways, it might now be a self-fulfilling "prophecy" and it could now be "chicken-and-the-egg." Meaning, we now have fixedness (see SIT) in terms of our budgets and therefore we assume we can't offer something new, something risky, something innovative and something with high(er)-expenses attached to it. I sometimes hear my colleagues be stifled in their imagination simply because the budget won't support it. And because we don't offer new and imaginative programs filled with "surprise and delight" (thank you Amy Sales for that phrase!) we perpetuate the stigma of passe (aka boring) religious education programs.

And, on the flip side, the more innovative and creative we are, the more we include immersion and experiential techniques into our offerings, the more the programs cost - and for now we can't turn that cost over as a direct fee-for-service. Caught in the paradox!

I am not sure how we address the issue of convincing parents that Judaism is critical to a successful future, but I know we aren't paying attention to this important issue. It should be on the agenda of Jewish education change agents to somehow combat this part of the gap. We have to collectively work to alter the perception and create a universal brand message about role of Judaism in life-long success (and certainly worth more than babysitting!) and therefore worth the financial investment to have quality Jewish experiences.

There are a lot of moving pieces to this gap between what it costs to run amazing Jewish education experiences and what we are charging ... and somehow we have to mind this gap and not perpetuate it.

Good for Israel! Not Good for the Jews?

2010-01-06T18:12:00.000-08:00

I had not been to Ben Yehuda Street in 12 years. I had been to Israel twice during that time, but Ben Yehuda had been deemed "unsafe" for travel groups and therefore off our itinerary. As a result of these restrictions, I had heard that over time Ben Yehuda had become a ghost town.

This past Saturday night, I hopped over to Ben Yehuda to meet a friend (who was staffing a birthright trip with Hillel). And the street was a mob scene (see photos to the right). Shops, restaurants, and cafe's were wall-to-wall people. Street performers could be observed every few feet. The noise was deafening and the energy electrifying. And it was clear, this crowd was 99% due to Birthright Israel buses converging on the popular shopping area after Shabbat ended. No question - Birthright is good for Israel. It is good for Israel's economy. It is good for Israel's image.

But I once again had to ask, just because it's good for Israel, does it mean that is it good for the Jewish people? And I am pretty sure that the answer is ..... depends on how you look at it.

Having staffed two Birthright trips (2004 and 2005), I see that there was a great place for Birthright in assisting young adults who couldn't go to Israel during the intifada (many of their trips were cancelled) to make their way to Israel. However, there are no more of these students remaining.

There is a large number of young adults who are marginally (if at all) connected to their Judaism and Birthright gives them a no-barrier access point to their heritage. For this, Birthright is great for the Jews.

I have heard stories of young married interfaith couples (where one partner has recently converted to Judaism) who travel on Birthright together. For this, Birthright is great for the Jews.

But, there are many reasons Birthright isn't great for the Jews.

Take for instance, the amount of alcohol that is consumed during Birthright trips. While wondering the packed Ben Yehuda street, I watched as four Birthright participants stood in a circle passing (and chugging) two 1-litre bottles: one of vodka and the other of orange juice. While the buses hosting older participants (22-26) don't necessary have the same issues, I know from personal experience that the young participants (18-21) take full advantage of the lower drinking age in Israel ... to a serious detriment. Many participants travel through the country hung over, sometimes having to stop the buses to be sick. Some participants even end up spending a few hours in a Magen David Adom clinic being treated for alcohol poisoning. Alcohol abuse is prevalent on Birthright trips. This is NOT good for the Jews.

In some ways, many Birthright participants bring a little part of Vegas with them on their Israel trip. "What happens in Israel, stays in Israel." I have witnessed, time and time again, young adults on Birthright trips being incredibly promiscuous. Hopping from room to room at night ... having contests to "hook" the Israeli's imbedded on their trips .... keeping track of who can lure the trip's shomer (guard) into bed ... picking up random Israeli's and giving out their hotel information. This is NOT good for the Jews.

In terms of pure exposure to the country, the people, and the history, ten days is just tiny glimpse. Because Birthright has a policy that a young adult is ineligible for the program if s/he has been on a previous peer trip, many teens (and their parents) are opting to skip in-depth teen programs for this free excursion. This NOT good for the Jews.

Developmentally, it is much more effective to have a teenager (15-18) spend between four and eight weeks (or longer) in Israel, than it is for a college student/young adult spend 10 days racing from city to city. However, the cost differential is a hard sell to families. Most trips run about $1000 a week and Birthright is free. As a result, teens and their parents are opting to "wait for Birthright" (I have heard it hundreds of times) rather than invest in a program that will have a much greater - and a much healthier - impact on the participant.

Several teen organizations have banded together to promote the quality and impact of the teen experience. Lapid is working as a coalition to spread the word and lobby for recognition and financial support that is equal to that of Birthright.

I was recently at the Federation General Assembly and heard over and over (and over ad nauseum) again about Birthright and MASA. No one mentioned the phenomenal statistics teen programs produce in relation to affiliation, philanthropy, and in-marriage. Having teen programs be ignored by the Jewish media, the Jewish Agency and Jewish Federation of North America is NOT good for the Jews.

So what lies in front of us is a challenge ... to create a situation that is not only good for Israel but great for the Jews too. I am by no means advocating that Birthright disappear (it's too good for Israel!) ... but perhaps be modified:

be more selective and targeted to the types of young adults it brings (i.e. those with minimal or no prior connection to Jewish community)
have funders also provide funding to in-depth teen programs
partner with teen programs to mass-advertise Israel experience

We must capitalize on the energy and the "economy" of Birthright while still capturing the impact of teen programs.

Disclaimer: I am not sure how coherent this blog posting is ... as I am writing it under full jet-lag. What an amazing 19 days in Israel I had (also good for its economy!).

To Stand Alone, or to not Stand Alone

2009-12-14T17:37:00.000-08:00

The Mourner's Kaddish is the prayer that Jews are "required" to recite daily as an affirmation of their faith in the darkest times of their lives. Many people believe it is a prayer about death because of it's association with loss, funerals and mourning, but it never mentions death.

Traditionally, when Jew loses a parent, s/he would daily go into communal prayer (a minyan, a group of 10 people) and recite this piece of liturgy as a public affirmation of faith. It is a prayer recited standing .... and the debate rests in the consideration if only the people in mourning should stand, or should the entire community stand.

Some congregations ask the entire congregation to stand. Two reasons I have heard are:

so that no person is standing alone, and the entire congregation is in mourning with them
to recite Kaddish for those who have no one to say kaddish for them (i.e. Holocaust victims, orphans, etc).

In more traditional settings, only the mourners are asked to stand and some people even consider it an ayin harah (and evil eye) to stand when you aren't in mourning ... putting a dark cloud over their loved ones. Some scholars would say the mourner is the only one to stand so that the rest of the community knows who is currently in pain and needs support.

I was raised in the "everyone stand" camp, and through my Jewish journey have moved to the "only the mourners stand" position. And then it happened to me.

All during Shiva for my dad, my family observed the "everyone stand" method ... and I felt a little agitated, maybe even angry. I was screaming inside that everyone else should sit down because this was MY LOSS, it belonged to ME, and my brother and mother and my two uncles. And for some reason I didn't want to blend in - I wanted my pain to stand out in that environment.

For various reasons (see my blog on Creating Rituals - Part 1) I have not attended a daily minyan to recite kaddish, but do so each day at home. So, the other night, for the first time since Shiva, I found myself in synagogue. I was there for Shabbat and the first night of Chanukkah and was going about the celebrating during dinner, etc. Then, we moved to another room for prayer services. It was about 10 minutes in, and it hit me - I was going to have to stand and say Kaddish ... and I was in a congregation where the "stand alone" method is their minhag (custom).

Very quickly, I became shaky and distracted. I couldn't focus on the prayers that were being recited because I was already anticipating my solitary recitation. During the prayer right before the kaddish, I was having trouble breathing .... I was thinking about all those times I had sat during Kaddish because it wasn't "mine" and now it was - totally and completely mine - the loss of my dad and the obligation to stand. And I was a total wreck. The tears were uncontrollable. Even though the words roll off my tongue every day at home, this was different. I was standing alone (except for 2 others who must have also been in mourning or observing a yahrtzeit - the anniversary of a death of a loved one). And I felt totally alone in a room full of people. Totally and completely alone in sadness and grief. I could feel the eyes on me as I tried to articulate the words of affirmation ... words of peace. I just couldn't predict that it would have been that hard.

Very shortly after that, services were over and one of the rabbis approached me - to ask if I was okay, to inquire about my loss, to offer his condolences, to offer his listening ear at any point I needed it ... which was very supportive. I told him that it was my first public Kaddish and that my family observed the "everyone stands" custom during Shiva ... and that the contrast was so big. He reminded me that one of the reasons this congregation doesn't stand is so that people (like he did) can reach out to the mourners, so that they don't blend in, and that their pain isn't absorbed into the crowd of voices.

So I have spent the last few days toiling with this. Which is better? Moving forward, how do I feel about the "stand" or "sit" debate? To tell you the truth - I am not sure how I feel about it. For the next 9 months, I won't have to decide. Because I will always have to stand. But in the future, after my aveylut (the 11 months I am in mourning) is over, I will have to decide (other than on my dad's yahrtzeit) if I stand or sit during Kaddish.

Creating Rituals - Two

2009-11-29T13:09:00.001-08:00

At the end of the first 30 days of mourning (a period called Shloshim), it us customary for a mourner to hold a Siyyum (a concluding ceremony) complete with a text study in memory of their loved one, a meal and prayer service. This signifies the transition into the next phase of mourning.

I struggled again with how to handle this next phase of Jewish mourning ritual. My father wasn't engaged in on-going Jewish learning in a formal way, and therefore traditional text study was foreign to him. In addition to that, a prayer service in his memory would also not be a true honor of who he was. So I spent some time thinking about how to blend my need for "tradition" and my life commitment to being a Jewish educator/role model with his personality.

My father was a passionate ornithologist (bird watcher) and traveled all over the world watching birds and recording his sightings (check out his website at david.faintich.com). At one point, my father even "discovered" the 500th species of bird in Florida (the story is on the website). So one night while I was contemplating my ritual dilemma the "obvious" occurred to me. I needed to weave my father's love for birds and nature with my need to have this ceremony.

Whenever my father traveled, he looked for nature reserves and birding spots to visit. On one of his trips to Atlanta, he spent an hour at the Chattahoochee Nature Center. It's a gorgeous area on the banks of the Chattahoochee River just a few miles from my home. This seemed like an obvious location to honor my father's memory.

Lucky for me, my friend Amy Bram is the Director of Camp Kingfisher, which is the Nature Center's summer and school vacation camp. Luckier for me she is gracious, loving and compassionate. So when I asked her if there was a way I could utilize the Nature Center for a gathering, she not only agreed to make that happen, but also agreed to bring out some of the Birds of Prey for us to encounter.

So on Sunday, November 29, I held a Shloshim Siyyum in memory of my dad which was an integration of his love of all things birds (and animals in general) and my love for Jewish texts. Below are the texts I shared with my friends who gathered to help me honor him and transition into the next part of this journey. What I highlighted for them was his true love of animals and how he treated (& taught us to treat) the pets who have blessed our lives and the natural world around us.

In reflection on the day, I could almost imagine what another special party for my dad would look like .... a fantastic breakfast with bagels and lox, olives and pickles and sweets ... surrounded by friends, a gorgeous Fall day, an encounter with birds of prey, and a chance to walk hiking trails and take in nature. The only addition was a quick look at Jewish texts. The only thing missing .... was him.

Tzar Ba’alei Chayim – Ethical Treatment of Animals

Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man knows the soul of his animal.

Exodus 23:12 Six days you shall do your work, but on the seventh day you shall cease from labor, in order that your ox and your ass may rest and that your bondsman and the stranger may be refreshed.

Leviticus 22:28 Whether it is a bull, a sheep or a goat, do not slaughter [a female animal] and its child on the same day.

Deut. 22:10 Do not plow with an ox and donkey together.

Exodus 23:4-5 If you come across your enemy's ox or donkey going astray, bring it back to him. If you see the donkey of someone you hate lying under its load, you might want to refrain from helping him, but [instead] you must make every effort to help him [unload it].

Deut. 22:6-7 If you come across a bird’s nest on any tree or on the ground, and it contains baby birds or eggs, then, if the mother is sitting on the chicks or eggs, you must not take the mother along with her young. You must first chase away the mother, and only then may you take the young. [If you do this] you will have it good, and will live long.

Talmud, Berachot 40a; Mishneh Torah, Laws of Servitude 9:8 One is obligated to first feed his animals before one feeds oneself.

Jacob, Noah, Moses and King David were all shepherds, people who cared for animals and all biblical heroes. Judaism has always recognized the link between the ways a person treats animals and the ways a person treats human beings.

Humanity is given dominion over animals (Gen. 1:26), which gives us the right to use animals for legitimate needs. Animal flesh can be consumed for food (a post-Noah permission); animal skins can be used for clothing. However, dominion does not give us the right to cause indiscriminate pain and destruction. We are permitted to use animals in this way only when there is a genuine, legitimate need, and we must do so in the manner that causes the animal the least suffering. Kosher slaughtering is designed to be as fast and painless as possible, and if anything occurs that might cause pain (such as a nick in the slaughtering knife or a delay in the cutting), the flesh may not be consumed. Hunting for sport is strictly prohibited, and hunting and trapping for legitimate needs is permissible only when it is done in the least painful way possible. – Source: http://www.jewfaq.org/animals.htm

As with all animals, we are required to feed our pets before ourselves, and make arrangements for feeding our pets before we obtain them. Also, like all animals, household pets are entitled to Sabbath rest, thus you cannot have your dog retrieve the paper for you on Shabbat, etc

Birds in Jewish Text (sample)

Genesis 6:20 From each bird according to its kind, and from each animal according to its kind.

Genesis 8:7-8:12 He sent out the raven, and it departed. ….. He then sent out the dove …. The dove returned to him toward evening, and there was a freshly-plucked olive leaf in its beak.

Friends in attendance:

Joy Signer

Jennifer Finnel

Leah Fuhr

Joan Herschfeld

Julie Ancis

Debbie Denenberg

Rebecca Levin

Jaci Steinhart

Danielle Steinhart

Naomi and Michael Rabkin and family

Anthony Erdman

Karen Paz

Marc Goldman and Jeremy

Amy Bram

Make a Smilebox slideshow

"no activity in the last 25 hours"

2009-11-21T19:00:00.000-08:00

As part of the Jim Joseph Foundation Fellowship (in partnership with the Lookstein Center at Bar Ilan University), I am responsible for being an active part of a few Google Groups and Wikis. The group (14 plus staff) are very active and fairly "talkative" - so much so that I find if I don't check the groups/wikis every day (at least once a day) then I can't catch up in all of the reading.

Out of total habit, I just checked the Google Group and the activity update says, "no activity in the last 25 hours." Duh! - as the last 25 hours were Shabbat.

It's interesting to think about Shabbat when you are not observant in the most traditional ways. The Jewish laws that shape traditional observance start with Shamor v'Zachor - to guard and to remember. They include laws about not creating and destroying (which is where the observances of not turning on/off electricity come from) and not conducting business (which is where not touching money originates). And it's traditionally agreed upon that Shabbat should be kodesh (some translate as "holy" but really means "set apart").

For me, I try and focus on the idea of kodesh - set apart. For me, Shabbat is permission to have menucha (rest). I don't feel guilty sleeping late (didn't roll out of bed today until after noon). I don't feel guilty taking naps (last Shabbat, I took at least two). I don't feel guilty letting dishes go untouched or laundry left undone. I don't feel guilty about not checking work email from Friday at about 3 p.m. until Sunday. Shabbat is permission to just be - to see where the day takes you - mostly unplanned.

Other ways to set apart the day ... indulge in one frivolous purchase; not just run errands. Indulge in one extra joy - like a massage or a long bubble bath. Experience nature in a unique way; consider a picnic in a park, flying a kite on a windy day or spending the afternoon on a boat. Envelope yourself in friendship; call a friend you haven't spoken to in a long time, just to chit-chat. Give your tastebuds a unique experience; reserve a special food (or a new food) just for Shabbat. Try something new, something you have always wanted to do; let your guard down and let yourself be challenged.

For me, Shabbat isn't "no activity for the past 25 hours" but it's "different activity for the past 25 hours."

Shavua Tov! (Have a good week!)

Creating Rituals - Part One

2009-11-14T18:02:00.001-08:00

Judaism has many prescribed rituals surrounding death and mourning and many of them make so much sense to aid in the healing process. But when I lost my father on October 16th, I knew that some of the prescribed rituals wouldn't be 100% right for me ... so I set out to create my own.

Shoveling the blanket of dirt into the grave of a loved one is one of the few acts of kindness that can never be repaid. However, the stone-cold sounds the first shovels of dirt make when they hit the coffin are bone-chilling. My father had expressed many times (at the many funerals we attended together) that he never wanted my brother and I to participate in this ritual because he wanted to spare us from hearing that sound. As we prepared for my father's funeral, I wrestled with what to do ... I wanted to somehow give him a blanket, but still wanted to respect his wishes. Our Invented Ritual: sprinkling bird seed. In a sign of homage to his love of feeding the birds, and in respect of covering him with something natural, the immediate family sprinkled handfuls of sunflower seeds into the open grave. (Note: I did forewarn the cemetery director that if sunflowers pop out of the plot in a few years, he will know why!)

Getting up from Shiva. When a loved one dies, the immediate family "sits shiva." At the end of the seven days of mourning, traditionally the family would "get up" from shiva by taking a ceremonious walk around the block to signal to the community that they are returning to daily activities. First of all, my family chose to officially receive guests only for three days of shiva. The remaining days of the week were spent mostly just as family, trying to deal with our physical exhaustion and returning my nephews to a more normal routine. On the sixth day, I flew to Los Angeles (from St. Louis where my family is), where I would be attending a conference the following day. My Adaptive Ritual: Havdallah. Typically the ritual of Havdallah is enacted at the end of Shabbat to signify the separation (in Hebrew: havdil) of the holy of Shabbat and the rest of the week. On this particular Saturday night (which was the 6th day of Shiva) I was very lucky to be welcomed back into a community I once led in Orange County, CA for their Shabbaton retreat Havdallah ceremony. For me, it couldn't have been more appropriate and meaningful transition. The light of the candle reminding me about the light that I will see at the end of this darkness, the spices providing me with a smell of sweetness to hold onto as I transition into the next stage of mourning, and sweet juice to nourish me physically. This particular Havdallah was a true separation between the immense trauma and sadness I had been enveloped in the previous two weeks (one week my dad was in the hospital and the week of Shiva), and the future ahead of me. As I transition through the next stages of mourning, I will be incorporating Havdallah (no matter the day of the week).

When a parent dies, it is customary for a child to attend a minyan (prayer service with a minimum of 10 people) every day to recite Kaddish for 11 months. First of all, this is not a ritual my dad connected with. It isn't something he did when his own parents died, and it isn't something that he would want me to do as an obligation (only if it was something I wanted to do because it helped me). Secondly, part of the idea is getting the mourner to participate in community so they are not alone. In my job, in my life, I am surrounded by Jewish community 24/7. Third, I am not a big t'filah (prayer) person and making my way every day (especially when I travel) to participate in a prayer service, only out of Jewish obligation, would not be healing for me. But I knew I needed something - wanted some sort of daily ritualized encounter with Kaddish. My invented ritual: to read and journal each day in a book by Rabbi Kerry Olitzy called Grief in our Seasons. Each night before I turn out my lights, I read the daily entry in the book and take a few moments to journal my thoughts in the space provided. I then recite Kaddish (which is provided in the book). This provides my much-needed daily ritual and provides me closure to a day full of thoughts and emotions about losing my dad.

As this mourning process continues, I will share other adapted rituals in the hopes that when other people experience a loss of their own, they not only find comfort in the prescriptions of Jewish mourning, but that they feel empowered to adapt and create rituals that help them heal.

In loving memory:

David Faintich

David Meyer ben Ya'acov v'Toiba

December 18, 1943-October 16, 2009

Yisrael - My Struggle with G-d

2009-10-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

I have shared openly with many people that I struggle with G-d (the meaning of the word Yisrael). Causes range from "the Holocaust" to the "see it to believe it" and looking at a rainbow or a baby ain't enough for me because of science. Some days, I am jealous of people who have a strong faith in G-d (or relationship with). There are times when I hypothesize that if the word "G-d" wasn't about a Being but a definition of the collection of history, tradition, liturgy, values, holidays, celebrations and community that I believe so much in, then I would accept the idea.

I get asked about "why pray?" ... why keep a level of kashrut. The answers: why pray - community and just in case .... and as for kashrut .... because Bubbie did. It's certainly not because of commandments, it's because each Jewish dietary decision I make reminds me in that moment of my Judaism. Having said that, I can't explain my powerful believe in b'shert (in meant-to-be situations and in soulmates.

There is this joke that says that even atheists believe in G-d in a foxhole. I am sitting in the proverbial foxhole, and I am not sure I agree.

On Friday morning, I got the call no one ever wants to get. The one where you are told a parent has had a catastrophic cardiac episode and the future is unclear. You especially don't want that call when you live 1000 miles from your family. So this is my foxhole. And I haven't done what everyone expects me to do - start negotiating with G-d.

I have talked to my Dad ... over the long distance and sitting at his bedside. I have "spoken" to loved ones who have passed on and had conversations with them begging them to send him back from the light. I have recited pieces of liturgy around healing - maybe more for my comfort and again in that "just in case." I have asked those around me who are in a relationship with G-d (in any religion) to add him to their thoughts and prayers. But I haven't directly reached out to G-d while sitting in my foxhole. It seems hypocritical.

Things are grim in my foxhole. I am sitting at his bedside now. He has yet to regain consciousness and so far he isn't responding to basic neurologic stimuli. The doctors have told us that there isn't any conclusive evidence yet that he won't at some point in the near future ... but they can't guarantee he will either.

Mi Shebeirach

Mi shebeirach avoteinu
M'kor habracha l'imoteinu

May the source of strength who blessed the ones before us,
Help us find the courage to make our lives a blessing
And let us say: Amen.

Mi shebeirach imoteinu
M'kor habracha l'avoteinu

Bless those in need of healing with refuah sh'leimah
The renewal of body, the renewal of spirit
And let us say: Amen.

Lyrics by Debbie Friedman and Drorah Setel

Ramping Up

2009-09-26T18:52:00.001-07:00

The days before Rosh HaShanah ... everyone wishing me a Shanah Tovah. Asking, "So, are you ready for the holiday?"

Ummm. No. Not really. Cooking for dinner-yes, ready for my guests. For the holidays, no. Never. High Holy Days, kinda not my thing. Sukkot-enjoy Sukkot. But ready for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. Nope.

These are remnants of the canned answers I gave to the question, "So are you ready for the holiday?" Internally, I kept thinking/questioning. Stream of Consciousness: work - lot's to do on that checklist, cleaning-a little every day, planning dinner menu, starting soup, shopping for cooking ingredients. I'm lonely right now - not entrenched in a synagogue community. Wish I were in Dallas for the holidays. Should I go to Dallas? Maybe New York. No - travel too much, stay here-here is lonely. Have to go get tickets. Tickets for the holidays, sucks. Membership dues for shuls - sucks even more. Have to get tickets. Need to go to synagogue. Not sure why I need to go, not a huge fan anyway. Consider riding the couch for the weekend. No, get tickets. It's the right thing. Don't forget to pay mid-month bills.

It makes no sense to be going about your daily life, worrying about daily stresses, and wake up one day "ready for the holiday." And then, for the first time ever, it hit me. That's the point of Elul. Elul is the Jewish month preceding Tishrei (the Jewish month that starts with Rosh HaShanah). Elul ... 29 days preceding the Holy Days. The point of Elul - 29 days of ramping up.

As a Jewish educator, I know that there are rituals that some people perform during Elul.

hearing the Shofar blow each day - the blasts awakening us, calling us
reciting Psalm 27
reciting Selichot
and less traditionally: reading special books and poems, journaling, meditating, etc

But I have never participated in them (other than attending an occasional Selichot program the Saturday before RH). [Note: This year, I went to a local congregation that was performing the staged reading/play "Standing at Sinai" which was written by my dear friend, Jeff Bernhardt. But I bailed before services.]

So - lesson learned. I need Elul. And while going to shul every day for Shacharit (morning prayers) to hear the Shofar blow might not be "my thing," I need to figure out what my thing is. Maybe finding someone to blow the Shofar for me on my own time schedule (even over the phone or Skype), maybe some guided journaling, and maybe spending a few minutes on each day of Elul calling one person I haven't talked to in a while (idea taken from a friend of mine!).

Whatever it is, one thing is for sure, I need to ramp-up. I can't just drop into the holidays and expect to feel something. I need Elul.

Wishing all of my friends and family a Happy and Healthy New Year and a Yom Kippur of meaning.

Inglorious

2009-09-13T20:37:00.000-07:00

For weeks, I read friends' Facebook status updates touting the movie Inglorious Basterds, so I decided to take myself to see it.

When I posted that I was headed off to the movies to catch this flick, many people commented on my status - again saying what a great movie it is, some even saying it was the best movie they had seen.

I have to say, I completely disagree. First of all, I spent a good chunk of the movie hidden behind my own hands, eyes tightly shut, and in several cases, even closed my ears. The shear gratuitous violence gave the movie it's first negative in my opinion. (Apparently, this is a trademark of Tarantino, but I haven't seen the majority of his movies so I had no clue this was the case.) The second, and more important perhaps, reason I didn't like this movie is inextricably linked to my opposition to the death penalty.

There are many reasons I am opposed to the death penalty:

it's irreversible and sometimes we make mistakes in who we identify as the guilty party
in the American court system it can be more expensive than life imprisonment which is a bad way to spend taxpayer $$
for the guilty - it's an easy way out - not having to live with the crime
for the family of the guilty (who are often completely innocent in their loved ones choices) it is yet another emotional blow
it's not our job to "play G-d"
Judaism strongly advises against using it

Whenever I get into debate about this issue, people always throw out Hitler - stating "If you had the chance to be the one to push the electric chair button on Hitler, you would do it." Truth is, I wouldn't. No one believes me, but I am THAT opposed. I don't have a problem locking him in a 5x5 concrete isolation cell with pictures of the people he tortured wallpapering the cell and no human contact and no sunshine ... but I do have a problem ending someone - anyone's - life.

Jewishly, the rabbis who wrote the Talmud created huge barriers to actually using the death penalty that in practical terms made it almost impossible to punish anyone by death.

The defendant may not be put to death unless two (or in some cases three) eyewitnesses testify against him or her
Each witness must be so certain of his testimony that he personally would be willing to carry out the execution
(Mishnah Makkot 1:10): "A Sanhedrin that puts a man to death once in seven years is called destructive. Rabbi Eliezer ben Azariah says: even once in seventy years. Rabbi Akiba and Rabbi Tarfon say: had we been in the Sanhedrin none would ever have been put to death...."

Personally, I have a relationship to the question of the death penalty. Remember the episode of West Wing, where the President is being asked to stay an execution? He calls in Charlie (his assistant) whose mother had been murdered to get Charlie's opinion. He asks Charlie, would he want his mother's killer to get the death penalty (Charlie says "yes" and admits he would be willing to push the button) ... but enter what happened in my house that night.

When my mother was 13, her father was murdered; they never caught the person who did it. I turned to her at the end of that scene and took that opportunity to ask my mother the same thing the President asked Charlie. "Mom, if they had caught the guy, would you have wanted him to get the death penalty? Would YOU be willing to push the button?" My mom hesitated - the answer wasn't clear for her. It doesn't get more personal that this - and she wasn't sure.

On the other side of the victim coin .... when I was 16 I had a friend whose brother murdered someone. The entire process ... finding out he had done it, dealing with the trauma that he was even capable of it, and his trial, were so hard on my friend and her family - it almost destroyed them. In a real sense, they were victims of the crime, too. Then came time for sentencing and death penalty was an option. She was so completely distraught. Her pain in that moment was so raw and while she recognized he was guilty, and needed to be punished, but the thought of having him die increased her pain exponentially.

So now back to the Basterds ... this movie was really about the death penalty. About taking lives of Nazi soldiers and even Hitler, as retribution for their killing of Jews. Then add in the pure gratuitous violence ... and you get a movie that I just find Inglorious.

Needing the "We"

2009-08-28T18:51:00.000-07:00

There has been a discussion taking place amongst some of my colleagues on Twitter (still trying to figure THAT out!) about making a compelling case for people to belong to Jewish community. What are the reasons that people NEED community (my favorite word, just ask my 'kids' from Orange County, see photo) and specifically Jewish community?

I came across a list a few days ago - which I think is mostly comical and not compelling. So I began a search for my own meaning.

Tonight, I went to shul for Kabbalat Shabbat. For those of you who know me, you know that this is a fairly random occurrence made more "out of the blue" because I went alone and there wasn't even a Singles Event taking place (still on the search for my b'shert!). A local congregation (Beth Tikvah) had an Open Door Shabbat for prospective members. While I don't need an "Open Door" to feel welcome there (no one does, it's a great place) - I in particular don't need it as I have a great relationship with many members of the staff and specifically their Rabbi - but it gave me the excuse I needed to get off the couch and go.

It was during the singing of L'cha Dodi that my list started formulating in my head. I need Jewish Community because.....

I need someone to sing harmony with during L'cha Dodi and Shalom Rav
I need someone to Pass the Torah (and someone else to pass it to!)
I can't play Jewish Geography with non-Jews.

As I flipped through the siddur (the new Mishkan Tefillah), I came across the blessing for Benching Gomeil - a prayer recited when you have come through a dangerous experience (car crash, giving birth, long journey, etc) and it is said RESPONSIVELY between the "survivor" and the "congregation."

In order to Bench Gomeil, you need a congregation.

And then the Rabbi called for people to mention names of friends and loved ones who were in need of physical, emotional or spiritual healing before the congregation recited the words of the MiSheberach. This provided me another answer ...

We need community to recite MiSheberach on our behalf. Especially if we are too sick to ask for our own healing.

Sitting there singing many melodies I have heard thousands of times drew me back to many experiences of standing, arm-in-arm, swaying to the liturgy of the Havdallah service. While I don't need a community to recite Havdallah....

I need community to stand arm-in-arm with in a Havdallah circle (or spiral)

Then, as the service was concluding, we recited the words of Kaddish. But before we did, we heard the Rabbi recite the names of all those who have been a part of the congregation whose yahrtzeit (anniversary of their death) is this week. This provided me another reason for community....

Long after I am gone and even my nephews are gone (and maybe even children and grandchildren I might have one day), I will be remembered perpetually because the Jewish community will mark it on my yahrzteit.

This thought led to one final thought about needing Jewish community. Last week, my friend Bruce Manning passed away. People have been leaving heartfelt and tearjerking messages on his Facebook wall. The day of his funeral, someone wrote about being a part of the community which put dirt on his grave.

"Although it was difficult, I felt honored to place three shovels of dirt on the casket.

Bruce did so much for me and it felt good to do one last thing for him! "

There is nothing worse than the sound when those first shovels of dirt hit the casket (so much so my mother has requested we don't participate in this ritual when her time comes - she wants us to walk away before!). But, there is something about having people who loved the recently departed take care of him/her until truly the very end.

We need Jewish community to take care of us, to give to us, when we have no way to give back to them.

I know that while these are compelling reasons for me, they might not be for you. Therefore, I invite you to comment and give your own compelling reasons. I just hope that at least one of my reasons (and those listed above are just a few) will convince someone who doubts the need for Jewish community to reconsider the power of Kehillah!

All About this Talit

2009-08-24T19:24:00.000-07:00

I was adamantly opposed to wearing a talit. It just wasn't what I was brought up with and I am not one to be forced into something I don't want to do. As part of my job in Orange County, we had the teens make their own tallitot. But how could I ask each of them to do it if I wasn't willing to do the same?

So I set out to make a talit that meant something to me.

The butterflies are in memory of a very special little girl Shoshana Tikvah Cohen z'l who passed away at 3 years old. She loved butterflies and she loved pink. The irony is that Shoshana was being raised in a modern Orthodox family and ultimately wouldn't be a talit-wearer herself. But her Ima gets me ... and gets this talit.
I tied three of the four tzitzit corners in Southern California. The fourth I tied in Jerusalem.
My original talit bag was actually a pillow cover (the zipable throw-pillow kind) that I bought in Daliyat el Carmel - a Druze Village with amazing textiles. I lost that case and hope to get myself another one on a future trip to Israel. The pattern in the case matched a wall-hanging that one of my best friends has hanging in his kitchen (we bought them at the same place at the same time while staffing a birthright israel trip).

Other facts about my talit:

The directions I use for tying tzitzit (and teaching others to do so) come from a Torah Aura Instant Lesson.
I used fabric glue to put it all together.
My cat Allie has chewed two of the strings, I guess I need to fix that at some point.
I almost got beat up in a Jerusalem hotel but a group of young haredim who didn't approve of a woman with a talit. Thank goodness for hotel security and a good friend!
If I am ever without my talit, I won't wear another one.