JEWISH TIME

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

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

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

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

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?

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:

1. 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)
2. have funders also provide funding to in-depth teen programs
3. 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

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.