Vengeance and Compassion

This week’s parsha was B’Shalach, which features the beautiful Song at the Sea, Shirat ha-Yam. This melody elicits a sense of the Israelites' joy at their freedom from bondage and their excitement for the future. Given the beauty of the melody, it can be easy for us to gloss over the fact that the text is pretty violent. Among its many verses, Shirat Ha-Yam includes:

“I will sing to Adonai, for God has triumphed gloriously. Horse and driver God has hurled into the sea.”

“The deeps covered them. They went down into the depths like a stone.”

“You made Your wind blow, the sea covered them. They sank like lead in the majestic waters.”

This unapologetic display of joy at the death of the Egyptians might offend our modern sensibilities, but it’s also understandable and has so much to teach us about human nature and about our relationship with God.

The Israelites, pressed up against the banks of the Sea of Reeds, fleeing the advancing Egyptian army, miraculously find the water parted before them. They walk, in awe, safely between walls of water from slavery in Egypt to freedom at Sinai, and watch as God brings those waters crashing back down, drowning their pursuers - the Egyptians who oppressed them for 400 years, who threw their sons into the Nile, who would have murdered them at the sea had God not intervened. I don't blame them for rejoicing. These deaths bring closure and a definitive end to the Israelites’ enslavement. Their peace of mind comes because they have witnessed the destruction of their enemies. With the army destroyed, there is no one left to come after them.

It is a violent and vengeful act by God. The Torah explains that God goaded the Egyptians into pursuit and lured them into the sea. In Exodus chapter 14, God explains to Moses that sending the Israelites in a circle and back to the Sea of Reeds is a ploy to trick Pharaoh into thinking they are lost and will be easy to recapture. God says, “Then I will stiffen Pharaoh’s heart and he will pursue [the Israelites], that I may gain glory through Pharaoh and all his hosts.”

And when they reached the sea, God split the waters “with a strong east wind.” Ramban argues that God used wind so that the Egyptians would rationalize the parting of the sea as a natural phenomenon and not a miracle, thereby making it easier for them to charge into the sea and ultimately to their deaths. Once in the sea, God “threw the Egyptian army into a panic” and “locked the wheels of their chariots.” Based on this description, we can only conclude that God meticulously planned this series of events. This death by drowning mirrors the horror of the Israelites’ sons being thrown into the Nile. It is not only vengeance, but poetic justice.

Water is both a source of death and life. The same Nile that Pharoah used to drown a generation of Israelite boys also carried Moses to safety. The same sea that parted for the Israelites crushed the Egyptians. The lack of water and its miraculous appearance in the desert later in this parsha and throughout the Israelites’ 40-year journey through the desert will remain a constant reminder of its power over life and death. Moses is sentenced to death for striking a rock in anger to make water flow from it. The journey through the wilderness begins and ends with water as a life-saving and life-taking source of wonderment. It’s a challenging duality, as illustrated by the conflict between vengeance and compassion throughout this parsha.

God’s actions in the first part of the parsha through the end of Shirat ha-Yam lean toward a portrayal of God as vengeful. However, following the Israelites’ praise for God’s vengeance in Shirat ha-Yam, the rest of the parsha shows God to be extremely restrained and compassionate. God spends a lot of time frustrated with humanity throughout the Torah, but not in this parsha.

In Genesis, we see God’s temper, destroying humanity in the Great Flood (another example of the destructive power of water). We see God, frustrated with humanity’s sinfulness and willing to destroy entire cities, reconsider the fate of the people of Sodom and Gomorrah after Abraham suggests that they need not be destroyed. When, during their journey in the desert, the Israelites build and idolize a golden calf, God threatens to destroy them and start a new covenant with Moses, an offer that Moses (thankfully) refuses. There are plenty of examples of God’s short temper and vengeance, but this week, God is extremely patient despite a lot of complaints and doubt from the Israelites.

Whenever God is short-tempered, angry, or frustrated with humanity, I like to remember that we are made in God’s image. If I lose my temper more quickly than I’d like, or gloat too much when my team’s biggest rival suffers a humiliating loss, I can take some comfort in the fact that it’s a natural reaction, even though I know I need to strive to be better. God works on God’s own temper throughout the Torah, so it’s no failing that I need to work on mine too, as long as I actually put in the work to improve. It's no failing if your temper runs short.

In Shirat ha-Yam, the Israelites praise God for destroying the Egyptians and God responds to this praise by demonstrating love, not through vengeful protection, but through patient compassion. When, on their march through the desert, the Israelites grumble about bitter waters, God makes them sweet. When they grumble about hunger, God provides quail and manna. When they grumble again about thirst, God causes water to flow from a rock. Each time the Israelites become frustrated about their situation, they question whether it would have been better to remain in Egypt and doubt God’s power and ability to provide for them. They lack faith. God could have taken offense and punished them for each transgression, but instead of focusing on their ungratefulness, God demonstrated understanding of their underlying fears and met them with patience and compassion. Just as water can be both a source of sustenance and a source of destruction, God - and humanity made in God’s image - has the ability to be both short-tempered and compassionate.

The Israelites clearly needed God’s compassion in this parsha. They hadn’t been on the receiving end of patience or understanding for generations; they had been slaves for 400 years. And they deserved compassion, because their lives, even in freedom, would not be easy. With the larger threat of attack from the Egyptians resolved, the Israelites, of course, turned their attention to the everyday concerns of nomadic survival: of feeding themselves and their families and surviving in a hostile wilderness. When the Israelites faced an enemy, God crushed them. By destroying the Egyptian army, God offered the Israelites justice and peace of mind. But when they faced starvation and thirst, and a long period of persistent hardships, God offered them help and compassion.

As I read this parsha, I couldn't help but think about the days when we could all be together. And now, after ten and a half months and over four hundred and thirty thousand deaths, COVID has really put B'Shalach's themes of life and death and God's patience and compassion into a new light.

In the face of our own long period of hardships, we are all striving to live up to God’s example of compassion. We may not always succeed. We are all understandably on edge, our nerves frayed and patience run down by ten and a half months of life and death, of uncertainty. Of course we're struggling. I will continue to lose my temper from time to time, and if the Chiefs win the Super Bowl next week, I’ll not only celebrate, but I’ll probably also gloat about Tom Brady’s loss. I can only hope that when that happens, I am met with God’s patience and I correct myself quickly. To be made in God’s image in this moment means that we all need to try to fill the world with more lovingkindness, to give others grace, to offer a helping hand, and show a little bit more patience. These times call us to put Hillel’s Golden Rule into action: to treat others as each of us would like to be treated. May we all see God’s compassion reflected in each other and continue to find reasons to sing God’s praises.

Shabbat shalom.

In God's Image

"And God created man in His image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them." Genesis 1:27

The story of Adam and Eve is one of the most difficult in the Torah. In the first two chapters of Genesis, we witness the creation of a beautiful world, full of new and wonderful things, watched over by a caring God. However, by chapter 3 paradise is already slipping out of our grasp. When I was young, Genesis filled me with a profound sense of loss. Mankind had disobeyed God, lost its innocence, and been expelled from the Garden of Eden in such a short amount of time. "How stupid," I thought, "to risk paradise for an apple."

Over time, my reading of Genesis has changed. My opinion of Adam and Eve significantly improved upon my conversion to Judaism. Jewish theology does not have the baffling idea of original sin that I was raised to associate with Genesis and, as a result, we don't have to lament the "fall of man" that consumes Christian interpretations. I can read Bereishit with a positive spin and there is plenty of positive material to work with when given the opportunity.

This year, instead of thinking "How stupid!" I thought, "How brave to risk so much for knowledge." Mankind was motivated by a desire to be more like God. We are, after all, made in God's image. The story of Bereishit introduces our innate curiosity, our hunger for understanding, and our striving to be closer to God. Throughout the Torah, God will address our desires by teaching us how to approach God appropriately through mitzvot.

Heschel in Short: Man Is Not Alone

Man Is Not Alone by Abraham Joshua Heschel
Heschel's point: God is ineffable, indescribable, incomprehensible, and un-prove-able, but I can feel that God is here, there, and everywhere. I will spend this whole book trying to describe the feeling of God's presence to you. I'm sure you've felt it too. It is brief, like a dream you can't quite remember upon waking, but it leaves you with a feeling of certainty that you are not alone in the universe. Hold onto that feeling when the modern everyday doubt and skepticism start to set in. Believing in God is not logical by scientific standards, but when you look at the wonders of the world, it is illogical to think that there is not some power out there at work.

Select Quotes from Man Is Not Alone
"When in doubt, we raise questions; when in wonder, we do not even know how to ask a question."

"There are more songs in our souls than the tongue is able to utter."

"While the ineffable is a term of negation indicating a limitation of expression, its content is intensely affirmative, denoting an allusiveness to something meaningful, for which we possess no means of expression."

"The ineffable is there before we form an idea of it."

"Science extends rather than limits the scope of the ineffable, and our radical amazement is enhanced rather than reduced by the advancement of knowledge."

"With information we are alone; in appreciation we are with all things."

"There is so much more meaning in reality than my soul can take in!" I like this so much, it has already been one of my Quotes of the Week!

"Faith is not a product of our will. It occurs without intention, without will."

"Thus, awareness of God does not come by degrees: from timidity to intellectual temerity; from guesswork, reluctance, to certainty; it is not a decision reached at the crossroads of doubt. It comes when, drifting in the wilderness, having gone astray, we suddenly behold the immutable polar star." Here, Heschel captures perfectly (and much better-said) my long path to Judaism.

"But there is no man who is not shaken for an instant by the eternal."

"In trying to prove or disprove the existence of God, we are like dancing puppets which, incapable of knowing for what end and how they are capable of dancing, presuming to judge about whether or not anyone is pulling the strings."

"In sensing the spiritual dimension of all being, we become aware of the absolute reality of the divine."

"Faith is the fruit of a seed planted in the depth of a lifetime."

"The greatest obstacle to faith is the inclination to be content with half-truths and half-realities."

"God is not an explanation of the world's enigmas or a guarantee for our salvation. He is an eternal challenge, an urgent demand. He is not a problem to be solved but a question addressed to us as individuals, as nations, as mankind."

"...to have faith is to abide rationally outside, while spiritually within, the mystery."

"It is extremely easy to be cynical."

"God begins where words end." If you couldn't tell so far from these excerpts, Heschel often seems to struggle with words to express his complex thoughts about God. His struggle to find language that can capture the uncapturable creates beautifully poetic literature.

"We were never told: 'Hear, O Israel, God is perfect!' It is an attribution which is strikingly absent in both the biblical and rabbinic literature."

"It is suspiciously easier to feel one with nature than to feel one with every man: with the savage, with the leper, with the slave."

"For the cardinal question is not what is the law that would explain the interaction of phenomena in the universe, but why is there a law, a universe at all."

"Divine is a message that discloses unity where we see diversity, that discloses peace when we are involved in discord. God is He who holds our fitful lives together"

"God means: No one is ever alone; the essence of the temporal is the eternal; the moment is an image of eternity in an infinite mosaic."

"To worldly ethics one human being is less than two human beings, to the religious mind if a man has caused a single soul to perish, it is as though he had caused a whole world to perish, and if he has saved a single soul, it is as though he had saved a whole world."

"...unity is that which the uninterrupted advance of knowledge and experience leads us to, whether or not we are consciously striving for it."

"Monotheism in teaching that God is the Creator, that nature and man are both fellow-creatures of God, redeemed man from exclusive allegiance to nature. The earth is our sister, not our mother."

"Our trust in God is God (Deuteronomy Rabba 1, 10)."

"A man entirely unconcerned with his self is dead; a man exclusively concerned with his self is a beast."

"The shift from the animal to the human dimension takes place when, as a result of various events, such as observing other people's suffering, falling in love or by being morally educated, he begins to acknowledge the other selves as ends, to respond to their needs even regardless of personal expediency."

"Man reaches a new vertical dimension, the dimension of the holy, when he grows beyond his self-interests, when that which is of interest to others becomes vital to him"

"The self, the fellow-man and the dimension of the holy are the three dimensions of a mature human concern."

"If life is holy, as we believe it is, then self-regard is that which maintains the holy. Regard for the self becomes only a vice by association: when associated with complete or partial disregard for other selves. Thus the moral task is not how to disregard one's own self but how to discover and be attentive to another self."

"The statement: 'Thou shalt love they neighbour as thyself,' concludes with the words: 'I am the Lord.' It is this conclusion that contains the ultimate reason for that solemn command. True and timeless is that command; but if God were not God, there would be no truth, no timelessness and no such command."

"Zeus is passionately interested in pretty female deities and becomes inflamed with rage against those who incite his jealousy. The God of Israel is passionately interested in widows and orphans." This made me laugh out loud on the train when I read it.

"God is everywhere save in arrogance."

"We are attached to two centers: to the focus of our self and to the focus of God. Driven by two forces, we have both the impulse to acquire, to enjoy, to possess and the urge to respond, to yield, to give."

"His concern is wrapt in the independence of the universe which is so well arranged that we are often led to believe that there is no need for occasional repairs. Our perception, therefore, is like listening to a foreign tongue: we perceive the sounds, but miss the meanings."

"The mark of Cain on the face of man has come to overshadow the likeness of God. There has never been so much distress, agony and terror."

"To have no faith is callousness, to have undiscerning faith is superstition."

"evaluating faith in terms of reason is like trying to understand love as a syllogism and beauty as an algebraic equation."

"Faith without reason is mute; reason without faith is deaf."

"To have faith means to justify God's faith in man."

"As we have seen, religion is not a feeling for something that is, but an answer to Him who is asking us to live in a certain way. It is in its very origin a consciousness of duty, of being committed to higher ends; a realization that life is not only man's but also God's sphere of interest."

"Judaism insists upon establishing a unity of faith and creed, of piety and Halacha, of devotion and deed. Faith is but a seed, while the deed is its growth or decay." The idea that faith is not enough, that action is required in addition to faith in almost all cases, is one of my favorite things about Judaism.

"Yet, reason is a lonely stranger in the soul, while the irrational forces feel at home and are always in the majority."

"Animals are content when their needs are satisfied; man insists not only on being satisfied but also on being able to satisfy, on being a need not only on having needs. Personal needs come and go, but one anxiety remains: Am I needed?"

"...the essence of man is not in what he is, but in what he is able to be."

"Our existence seesaws between animality and divinity, between that which is more and that which is less than humanity"

"Man is 'a little lower than the angels' (Psalm 8:5) and a little higher than beasts. Like a pendulum he swings to and fro under the combined action of gravity and momentum, of the gravitation of selfishness and the momentum of the divine"

"There is only one way to define Jewish religion. It is the awareness of God's interest in man, the awareness of a covenant, of a responsibility that lies on Him as well as on us."

"Some Greeks said: 'Passion is a god, Eros'; Buddhists say: 'Desire is evil.' To the Jewish mind, being neither enticed nor horrified by the powers of passion, desires are neither benign nor pernicious but, like fire, they do not agree with straw. They should be neither quenched nor supplied with fuel. Rather than worship fire and be consumed by it, we should let a light come out of the flames. Needs are spiritual opportunities."

"Eternity is not perpetual future but perpetual presence. He has planted in us the seed of eternal life. The world to come is not only a hereafter but also a herenow."

"This is the meaning of existence: To reconcile liberty with service, the passing with the lasting, to weave the threads of temporality into the fabric of eternity."

Shavuot and Ruth

When I was little, I loved the stories from the Old Testament. My favorites were Daniel and Joseph, but I could recount the basic stories of others too. Noah and the flood, Sarah's barren woes, Moses leading people to freedom. But I couldn't tell you anything about Ruth. I learned most of my Biblical knowledge as a child from a book called My Little Bible, which told Bible stories from the Old and New Testaments in 10 sentences or less. The stories were meant to summarize complex Biblical people and events into lessons for toddlers. As you can imagine, summarizing the Bible in language for little kids can be hit or miss, but I think most of the stories did a decent job of getting to the general point. For example, here is the story of Esther:

Brave Queen Esther

Haman hated God's people, the Jews. He tricked King Xerxes into making a law to kill all the Jews. Esther was the queen, and King Xerxes loved her. But Esther was a Jew. She bravely told the king about Haman's trick. The king became angry and had Haman killed. Brave Esther had saved God's people.

Point to Esther's crown.

This story, and most of the others, explains who the main characters are, how they are related, and the motives for their actions. Haman is hateful and somehow connected to the king. Esther is Jewish and brave. Knowing these facts is essential to understanding what happens in the rest of the story. This, on the other hand, is the book's summary of Ruth:

Ruth and Naomi

Ruth married Naomi's son. But the son died. Then Ruth and Naomi moved to a country called Judah. Naomi's cousin Boaz lived there. He had a big wheat field. Boaz let Ruth pick up grain from his field to feed Naomi. Boaz soon married Ruth. And they had a son named Obed. Naomi took care of Obed.Do you know any babies?

I read these nine sentences over and over, but the story just didn't make sense to me. I wanted to know why Ruth lived with her mother-in-law instead of her own family and why they moved to Judah. I didn't understand why Naomi took care of Obed instead of Ruth and Boaz. Besides all that, I couldn't find a point to the story and every other Biblical story I knew seemed to have some kind of lesson. So I gave up on Ruth. I didn't come across her again until years later when I was planning to convert to Judaism and then suddenly Ruth had a point. The story of Ruth is a conversion story.

"For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God." Ruth 1:16

Today is Shavuot, when we read the story of Ruth (the whole story of Ruth), and thus it is a time to talk about Jews by Choice. Over the past week or two, your local Jewish paper likely featured an interview with a convert or an opinion peace about welcoming the "other" into our communities. You will probably also find a story entitled "Shavuot: The Neglected Holiday" or "What is Shavuot?"

Shavuot is a learning holiday. It is an all-night Torah fest. You come together with others to pray, read and discuss texts, eat cheesecake, and then learn some more. These are all things that I love. I also love Shavuot because it allows me to connect to the Jewish people in a way that is often difficult. Much of Jewish life is generational, but Shavuot highlights the idea that there is a Jewish soul within every Jew, whether they were born Jewish or chose Judaism, and that we were all at Sinai. It is also the favorite holiday of many converts to Judaism, because of its connection to Ruth. Since my conversion, I have come to understand and appreciate Ruth in a way that I never would have otherwise. So this Shavuot, I celebrate the Torah and Ruth.

Count the Omer: Days 47, 48 & 49

Day 46

Day 47: Hod sheb'Malchut, Humility within Kingdom
The closer I get to God and spirituality, the harder it is to find the words to explain what I'm feeling. I think that's why so much of religious thought is expressed through analogies and metaphors. In that spirit, let's talk about stairs.

Around this time last year, I was on Mackinac Island in Michigan, hiking with my husband. Mackinac is a small, beautiful island, with plenty of hiking trails. Near dusk, we came to a winding staircase that disappeared up into the trees. We were tired from hiking all day, but decided to see where that staircase went anyway. We took it one step at a time, wondering where the stairs would lead and what kind of views we would have at the top. With the end in sight, we turned around to see how far we had come and it looked further and more twisted than it had seemed as we climbed.

As I reflect on Counting the Omer this year, I am amazed at how quickly and easily these seven weeks have gone by. It does not seem that long ago that we were celebrating Passover and counting day 1 of the Omer, taking that first step on the staircase toward spiritual improvement and Shavuot. I am humbled today by time and by our nearness to the top.

Day 48: Yesod sheb'Malchut, Foundation/Connection within Kingdom
We talked about the reverse of this combination last week. While malchut sheb'yesod is about the kingdom that you can build with a strong foundation and connections, yesod sheb'malchut falls in a week with the emphasis on kingdom. God was already there long before Abraham and Sarah first started wandering, before we received the Torah, before we created the traditions we hold dear today. The foundations of Judaism and our connections to each other have grown out of our relationship with God.

Day 49: Malchut sheb'Malchut, Kingdom within Kingdom
Well, here we are at the end. I am amazed by the difference that just one week can make. By taking the time each week to think deeply about my connection with God and how I can make better use of each of these seven attributes in my life, I think I have really found a way to be a better person and a better Jew. I'm sure that I will let some of these new-found ideas fall by the wayside in the coming year, but I always have next year to think about the in a new light and make them stick. So here's to continually reaching out to God and hoping that God reaches back.

Omer Recap

1. Chesed - loving-kindness
2. Gevurah - strength, power, justice, restraint
3. Tiferet - beauty, harmony, balance, compassion
4. Netzach - endurance, ambition
5. Hod - gratitude, humility, majesty
6. Yesod - foundation, connection
7. Malchut - kingdom, leadership

Count the Omer: Day 46

Day 45 | Days 47, 48 & 49

Netzach sheb'Malchut, Endurance/Ambition within Kingdom
In God, I have found enduring love and community. In Judaism, I have found an encouragement to consistently learn and grow. In counting the Omer, I have found a path to self reflection and improvement, which ultimately brings me closer to God. It's a circle, a beautiful circle.

Count the Omer: Day 42

Day 41 | Day 43

Malchut sheb'Yesod, Kingdom/Leadership within Foundation
Judaism is founded on our relationship with God and the laws of the Torah. Building your home and personal life with these ideals at the core is hard enough, let alone trying to build a nation and being a leader on the international stage. I think Israel does a pretty good job of it, even as they continue to work on finding the right balance between religion and state. I am interested to see how the Chief Rabbinate decision turns out.

Count the Omer: Day 41

Days 39 & 40 | Day 42

Yesod sheb'Yesod, Connection within Connection

Together in the Desert

We are so close to Shavuot. The Israelites and "mixed multitudes" who left Egypt 41 days ago have won a war together against Amalek and begun to create a societal structure by appointing judges to help Moses. In connecting with each other, they bring themselves closer to their spiritual connection to God. In turn, receiving the Torah at Sinai will make them a "people," the people of the Book, God's chosen nation.

Count the Omer: Days 39 & 40

Days 37 & 38 | Day 41

Day 39: Netzach sheb'Yesod, Endurance within Connection

"'Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.' And He added, 'So shall your offspring be.' And because he put his trust in the Lord, He reckoned it to his merit." Genesis 15:5-6

This promise exemplifies endurance within connection. Through Abraham's connection with God, he gave birth to a nation as numerous as the stars, a nation that has endured the tests of time. Nowhere, however, does God promise that those offspring will remain Jewish. Two years ago, Rabbi Eric Yanoff in the Main Line suburbs of Philadelphia, gave a d'var about passing on Judaism.

"Every generation," he said, "fears that it will be the last generation of Judaism." Not through some horrific event, like the Holocaust, but through a failure to connect with the next generation. Every generation fears that they will somehow fail to pass on their Jewish values, to engage the incoming generation in Jewish life in a meaningful and long-lasting way.

We are quickly approaching Shavout, a holiday that is all about connection. Shavuot celebrates the receiving of the Torah at Sinai, the establishment of a lasting relationship between God and the Jewish people. Each year, as we celebrate by eating cheesecake and staying up all night to learn and study, we create that connection with God all over again.

Day 40: Hod sheb'Yesod, Majesty within Connection
The Torah is a guide for our lives. It details relationships between individuals, between tribes, and between Israel and God. In just ten days we will celebrate the day that God gave us the Torah, thus providing us with a manual for how to connect with God and with others, and how to incorporate Judaism into our daily lives.

Count the Omer: Day 7

Day 6 | Day 8

Day 7: Malchut sheb'Chesed, Kingdom/Leadership within Loving-kindness

"In malchut, God does not act merely by Himself, but rather God acts through us." Aish

This is the first instance of malchut as we count the Omer and the first way in which God acts through us is with loving-kindness. How can you let God's loving-kindness shine through today?

Response to Rabbi Cosgrove's Conservative Conversion Proposal

Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove of Park Avenue Synagogue in New York has caused quite a stir in the Jewish blogging community over a recent d'var Torah, entitled "An Immodest Proposal."

There is so much I want to say about Rabbi Cosgrove's "back-of-the-napkin," "trial balloon" proposal, but right off the bat, I would like to make a general observation about the conversion conversation. I would appreciate seeing the topic of conversion discussed more often in its own right, detached from the intermarriage issue. Yes, sometimes the two topics are related and warrant a joint discussion. However, just because some of us may have "found" Judaism through a relationship with a born-Jew, doesn't mean we converted "for" them or that the discussion has to include anything more on the interfaith aspect than that. I have ranted about my frustration with converting "for" someone on multiple occasions.

Moving on! Rabbi Cosgrove's sermon is worth reading in full, but I am going to pull out my "favorite" parts to discuss here. Please feel free to share your thoughts on my critique or on another part of his sermon in the comments!

"And while some of my Reform colleagues do not perform intermarriages, the unintended consequence of this patrilineal resolution, as you can imagine, is dis-incentivizing the act of conversion altogether. After all, if a rabbi will marry you and the kids are Jewish anyway - why go through the whole rigmarole at all?"

This is just one of many comments that Rabbi Cosgrove made throughout this sermon lamenting the "dis-incentivizing" of conversion, but why exactly are we "incentivizing" it? What happened to turning a potential convert away three times? And if the potential convert considers conversion an annoying "rigmarole" as a means to a handful of specific ends (a Jewish wedding and Jewish kids), then maybe they shouldn't be converting to Judaism in the first place. When you convert, you are supposed to count yourself among the Jewish people, take on a Jewish identity, and accept the mitzvot, so "why go through the whole rigmarole" if that's not your intention?

"Probably the most famous narrative about conversion in the Talmud is the story of the would-be-convert who approaches first Shammai and then Hillel, asking to learn the entire Torah while standing on one foot. Shammai hits him with a stick – effectively telling him to get lost. Hillel, famously, converts him right away, telling him 'That which is hateful to you, do not do your fellow. That is the entire Torah. The rest is commentary. Go and learn.' The order of events is often missed, but it is instructive for us today. First Hillel converts, then Hillel teaches. First you join and then, once you are a vested member, you figure out what it's all about."

I love this story - so much so that it inspired my blog name - but I think that it is being misused here. The life of a convert, just like that of a born-Jew, is (or should be) a life of continuous learning. Knowing "what it's all about" is not a prerequisite for conversion, but there are a few things you should know before committing to be Jewish for the rest of your life. In this story, Hillel teaches his convert "the entire Torah" before converting him. Traditionally, we read the entire Torah in a one year cycle (three years in some synagogues), so I could just as easily cite this story as precedence for the common practice of requiring one year of study before conversion.

I am also a bit confused as to how Rabbi Cosgrove's "convert them first" plan would actually be implemented. He suggests regularly scheduled conversion times at the beginning of every month with follow up classes about Judaism in which the convert would be automatically enrolled, with no guarantee that they would actually attend, of course. That aside, would they go through the beit din and mikveh right away? Would the beit din still ask them if they were ready to take on Judaism, the good and the bad? Who could possibly answer that question at such an early stage? Not only that, but at what point would you circumcise a male convert? I can't imagine that a man would agree to circumcision without fully understanding the significance of it and deciding to commit fully to a Jewish life. Coming to understand, appreciate, and love Judaism takes time and learning. He cites "na'aseh v'nishmah" ("we will do and we will hear") as another reason to convert first, teach second. I have commented on this phrase from Exodus 24:7 before in relation to conversion, so I will only say here that I think Rabbi Cosgrove is ignoring a key element of "na'aseh v'nishmah," namely that when the Jews originally said it in Exodus, they were already Jews. The "we will do" part that came first was about taking on the mitzvot, not an entirely new identity as a Jew.

"Quite frankly, given the option of being misled by would-be Jews lacking integrity, or running the risk of losing potential Jewish households, I would choose the former over the latter any day of the week. I am in the business, we are in the business, of creating Jewish homes."

I have to wonder how often, if ever, Rabbi Cosgrove deals with converts or potential converts who are doing it for themselves out of a personal love of Judaism and desire to be part of the Jewish people. His outlook strikes me as incredibly hurtful to that group of us, as we are the ones who would be (and currently are) lumped in with those "would-be Jews lacking integrity" and forced to overcompensate to prove our integrity. I, for one, appreciate the slow learning approach to conversion. I not only appreciated the time and effort my rabbi took with me during my seven month conversion process as an important preparation for Jewish life, but I appreciate it now as a way to safeguard against Rabbi Cosgrove's "would-be Jews" who cast suspicion on the rest of us.* I think the Rabbinical Assembly (the Conservative Movement's association of rabbis) put it best in their position paper on non-halakhic conversions: "These objective halakhic criteria, which alone protect the purity of Jewish identity, should not be compromised in the interests of an ultimately meaningless Jewish unity."

*I know I'm coming across as incredibly harsh here, so let me just state for the record that I am not at all suggesting that rabbis close their doors to potential converts. I am (and this should be obvious) pro-conversion. My negativity here stems from consistently for multiple years now being on the defensive about my conversion from people who question my motives and the motives of all converts. That said, it's not all bad. In fact, I think it's safe to say that most people I tell are genuinely supportive.

I will end on a note of agreement, because I like to stay positive.

"...it strikes me as problematic verging on hypocritical to ask or expect converts to live according to a lifestyle that I do not demand of the rest of synagogue membership."

I don't think that this double standard is something I have discussed on my blog and, to be honest, it's not something I think about much anymore, but it used to really bother me during my conversion process and right after my conversion. Converts are often held to a higher standard than born-Jews when it comes to keeping the mitzvot. My legitimacy can be called into question, unofficially or officially, if I am less observant. However, if I had been born Jewish, then I would be Jewish without question, even if I ate a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich every morning and never observed Shabbat. It used to really bother me that there are Jews who wouldn't consider me Jewish, because I didn't convert in their movement, while born-Jews get a free pass in a sense. I'm not really sure when that stopped bothering me; it just slowly phased out of my thoughts. My observance of the mitzvot is between me and God and it doesn't make a difference to my level of observance what the Jew down the street does or doesn't do. Nonetheless, I appreciate Rabbi Cosgrove's acknowledgement of this issue.

Shabbat Shalom! Don't forget to "spring forward" this Sunday for Daylight Savings Time!

Quote of the Week: God's Side

"My concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God's side, for God is always right." - Abraham Lincoln

Taglit Mayanot Day 10: The Kotel Tunnels

I am transcribing my Birthright journal, a day by day account of my time in Israel. To start at the beginning, click here!

January 6, 2013
Hebrew word of the day: Para Para (פּרה פּרה) = one thing at a time

This morning we went to a senior living facility to hang out with the residents. I got to talk to a man named Zvi, who was born in Denmark in 1943. His family had to flee to Sweden to escape the Nazis and lived there for two years before returning to Denmark in 1945. At the age of 24, in 1967, Zvi made Aliyah. He served as a commander in the army for fifteen years and then went to school and got two PhDs - one in math, the other in immunochemistry. He spent his life studying cancer. He has two daughters, one son, and seven grandchildren. Talking to him was a great experience. When I asked how he came to live in Israel, he said, "because I wanted to live in Israel," as if there were no conflict, no fear of leaving behind the land of his childhood and the life he had built there.

We had lunch in the Jewish Quarter and then went to the Kotel, where three of our group members became Bar and Bat Mitzvah. After the ceremony, we went down to the Wall, men on one side of the mechitza and women on the other. The guys wrapped tefillin and we all said the Sh'ma. There were more women than men at the Wall today, so we had to push our way to the front of the crowd to stick our notes to God in the Wall. When I got up to the Wall, I said the Sh'ma again and Shehecheyanu before sticking my little note in the wall.

The Western Wall

It started to rain just as we were entering the Kotel tunnels, which was perfect timing. The tunnels are excavated under the Muslim Quarter to see more of the Western Wall. There were a number of (mostly) women down there praying. The holiest spot along the Western Wall, the closest point to what used to be the Holy of Holies, is in the tunnels. It was very cool and unreal to be there.

Read about my last day in Israel (for now)!

Quote of the Week: If God did not exist

"If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent Him." -Voltaire

Quote of the Week: Rain

"God is in the rain." -V for Vendetta

Action

Last weekend, as we discussed Lech Lecha in my new Torah Study group, someone asked why God would require circumcision. After all, he argued, God is omnipotent, so if God doesn't want man to have foreskin, then God could just make man without foreskin.

But I don't think that's the point. Circumcision symbolizes the covenant between Jews and God. It is the act of circumcising someone (more than the end result) that matters here. God always requires action of us, because actively engaging with something makes it more ours and actively engaging with someone makes that relationship stronger. When we interact with God (through Torah study, prayer, ritual, or however else you do it), we are building a stronger relationship with God and with the others who participate in those activities with us.

We see the necessity for action all over Genesis. God couldn't just spare Noah's house; Noah had to build an ark. Despite being promised a child by God, Sarah believes that there is still action required on her part to produce that child (whether or not letting your husband sleep with your slave so you can adopt the resulting boy as your own son is the action any of us would take is a separate matter). And now God requires circumcision, which is just the beginning of many more mitzvot - actions that will solidify our covenant with God.

The group leader took this one step further and said that it is not only action, but choice, that builds strength and character. Lech Lecha not only means "go" for Abraham, but "choose." In leaving his home, Abraham can and must choose a new life for himself. As a stranger in a new land, who will he be and how will he define himself? This struggle for definition in choice is what makes Abraham and Sarah the spiritual parents of all Jews by Choice. Abraham chooses to act in some pretty impressive ways and Parsha Vayeira this weekend will highlight some of his best moments. Hopefully we can all follow Abraham's example - to defend our friends and family (Gen 14:14), to treat the stranger with kindness and generosity (Gen 18:2), and to stand up for justice (Gen 18:25).

What better time to act generously and kindly than now, in the wake of Hurricane Sandy, when so many friends, family and strangers throughout the Northeast are without homes and without power?

To those affected by the storm, I wish you a speedy rebuilding.

Shabbat Shalom

Election Season

On my two mile walk to work, I am bound to be stopped and asked "Are you registered to vote?" "Yes," I answer proudly. I don't claim to be the most informed voter out there, but I try. As a registered voter, I fall into three voting blocs, each with their own set of issues that will affect my vote:

The Youth Vote
As a young adult, I am concerned about the state of the nation I am inheriting. Are we where I want us to be socially, financially, and environmentally? Not right now. Socially, I want a future in which everyone has access to legal health care, in which this article from The Onion is a reality, in which your gender or race does not affect your job opportunities or level of pay. Financially, I want to see a level-headed approach to balancing the budget, where you are taxed more if you earn more and where spending on education and infrastructure is seen as an investment in my generation and the nation's future. It would be nice to have a structurally sound road in front of me and a well-educated generation behind me. Environmentally (and along the financial investing-in-our-future lines as well), I would love to see us take a serious look at wind, solar, and hydro power on a larger scale. I am particularly fascinated by windmills. I know people complain that windmills are eyesores, but when I see a wind farm with dozens of windmills spinning together in a field, a blue sky overhead and the earth stretched out before me, it is an awe-inspiring display of the interaction between humanity and God.

Windmills in Southern Illinois

The Women's Vote
Dear Congress, please collectively enroll in a biology course. At the very least, it would teach you that your foot and your mouth are two distinct body parts that don't belong anywhere near each other. As an added bonus, you might also learn how the female body works. In lieu of this course, I suggest you keep your uninformed opinions about us to yourselves and stop trying to limit our healthcare options. Thanks, a female voter

The Jewish Vote
This is my first election as a Jew, which means I am now officially on the lookout for the candidates' commitments to the state of Israel. I haven't been to Israel and, as a convert to Judaism, I can't (even in theory) claim an actual ancestral connection to the land. But I have a spiritual and religious connection to it and a vested interest in its security and continued existence as a Jewish state. I hope to visit Israel someday and wander as Abraham and Sarah wandered when they became the first Jews.

My views on Israel really deserve their own post and I will eventually sift through my feelings and make them coherent enough to post. For voting purposes, however, I can set aside my thoughts on Israel's internal politics, the difficulties of being a democratic and religious state, the religious clashes, etc. The presidential election, for me, is not about Israeli politics, but about the US policy towards Israel and with the recent events involving Iran, this is shaping up to be an important issue.

The presidential debates start this Wednesday. So register to vote, be informed, and don't forget to vote on Tuesday, November 6, 2012!

Shul Shopping

I have become a perennial shul shopper; blame it on being young and mobile. This will be the fourth year in a row that I am spending the High Holidays at a new synagogue. Looking for a shul right before the High Holidays is probably the worst time to look for one - attendance is higher than it will be for the rest of the year, the rabbi is usually busy preparing for the holidays and won't have much time to discuss the synagogue with you, and you feel rushed to join a place in time to get tickets for Rosh Hashanah. My husband and I have moved every July for the past four years, meaning we have had just 2-3 months to figure out our temple options, visit, and narrow down the list, before committing to a place for the year. Based on our previous synagogue experiences, this is what I was looking for in our most recent venture:

1. A Traditional Egalitarian service. For me, this means mixed seating, the majority of women wearing kippot and tallit, and women on the bimah either as clergy or for an aliyah. 
2. Potential to make friends. Am I the youngest one there by 20-30 years? Are there other young couples without kids? Who are the regulars? Are the members inviting or clique-y? 
3. Torah study. I want a group that meets once a week, though I'll take what I can get. The format should be discussion-based and thought-provoking and cover a wide range of issues and biblical theories. I don't want to study with a group of people who will only treat the Torah as a 100% recounting of actual people and events any more than I want to study with people who are only interested in the proven historical (archaeological) record. Historical analysis can have its benefits, but the Torah is a religious text and should be treated as such. 
4. An intellectual rabbi who leads by example. I want a rabbi who makes it easy to follow the service without treating the congregation like we're completely clueless. I want a rabbi who gives interesting d'varim on the portion and covers a diversity of topics over the course of the year. Listening to a d'var about the State of Israel week after week, for example, gets boring pretty fast. 
5. A cantor or song leader I can sing along with. A cantor can have a wonderful voice, but if they are all over the place with the melodies so that no one can sing along, then it's not for me. 
6. Location, location, location. Preferably, I'd like something within 20 minute walking distance or 15 minute driving distance of my home. I belonged to a synagogue a 30 minute drive away for a year and an hour commute both ways at least once a week for services is just too much. 
7. Spiritual surroundings. I am not looking for a beautiful sanctuary. Architecturally and stylistically, I don't care what it looks like. Whatever it looks like, it should maximize the sense of God's presence and minimize distractions. Anything about the surroundings that will detract from my spiritual connection with God (creaky seats, really low lighting, etc) is a negative in my book. This is not necessarily a deal-breaker in my synagogue search, but certainly something to consider. 

This list will continue to grow as our experiences and needs grow, but it has served as a good starting point in our search this year. What do you look for in a synagogue or other house of worship?

L'shana tova! Happy New Year!

My Conversion, Part 4: Conversion

This post is part of a series. Please start with Part 1.

My tentative interest in converting began sometime in late 2009 or early 2010. I bought a number of books on Judaism and converting to Judaism and thought really seriously about how converting would affect my life. I would go from the Protestant majority to an historically persecuted minority. I would have to tackle a new language, new culture, new foods. I would be giving up many of the childhood traditions I knew and loved. It would be a serious refurbishing of my identity on many levels. If I was going to put all that effort into a religion, I expected to get everything I wanted out of it - and I was quite demanding.

My new religion had to make sense to me theologically and if I had a question, I wanted a real, thought-out answer. Its values had to align with mine. Most importantly, I wanted a religion that could make me feel closer to God. For a long time, Judaism fulfilled everything for me except the God connection. I continued to go to services and learn more about Judaism because I enjoyed it, but I wouldn't seek to actively start the conversion process without that final piece.

I participated regularly in Jewish services, holidays, and study for over a year before it finally all clicked for me. Looking back on it, it makes sense that I would only feel a connection to God through Judaism after becoming comfortable with it in all the other aspects I was exploring, but at the time it seemed like I suddenly felt closer to God out of nowhere. So I went to my rabbi in Nashville to start the conversion process.

There are no set regulations for conversion (different movements have some loose guidelines), so each rabbi may do it differently. After talking to me about why I wanted to convert, my rabbi handed me a list of requirements for her conversion candidates. I had fulfilled most of them before I even talked to her about conversion, despite only moving to Nashville a couple months before. The requirements were:

A Conversion Class, which met monthly and included readings about theology, holidays and practice, Israel, and Jewish culture.

Living Jewishly through Shabbat observance and testing out other halachot (keeping kosher, holiday observance, picking up Hebrew, etc). I had been slowly incorporating these things into my daily life since my first encounter with Judaism the year before.

Tikkun Olam/Volunteering, at least part of which had to be within the Jewish community. I had already signed up to co-teach the synagogue's pre-k Sunday school class, which was a complete blast. The kids were great and I got to learn basic Hebrew phrases, like b'vakasha (please) and todah (thank you).

Keep a Personal Journal for reflection on my religious choices. I didn't have to share this with the rabbi or anyone else, but it helps to write that kind of thing out and I continue to use it.

Finally, Membership in the synagogue was required. We had already joined shortly after moving to the city, so this wasn't an issue.

How long the process takes depends almost entirely on the conversion candidate. It's up to you to tell your rabbi when you feel ready. If the rabbi disagrees, he or she will talk to you about it. Traditionally, the rabbi is supposed to turn away a conversion candidate three times, just to be sure they're really committed to converting. I set a date for my conversion ceremony about 6 months into my official conversion process, but most things I've read and heard say that it typically takes someone a year. Again, it varies depending on the person. I converted on a Friday afternoon. I took a half day at work and met my bet din (a court of three overseeing Jewish leaders, in my case the synagogue's two rabbis and the Sunday School director) at the Orthodox synagogue in town, because that is where the mikveh (ritual bath) is located. The bet din seems like it will be scary, but then it's not really. There's not really a good way to prepare for the bet din. There is a section about it in Choosing a Jewish Life by Anita Diamant that runs through the basics of how it works, but it's going to be different for everyone. Your rabbi really shouldn't let you get to that stage if he or she doesn't think you're ready. During my bet din, I basically reiterated why I was converting and explained how I chose my Hebrew name. They asked me some follow-up questions and reminded/warned me that Judaism can be hard. After that, I went to the mikveh.

The mikveh is hard to describe. In a literal sense, it is a ritual pool (for more on the mikveh, see Chabad's explanation). For a convert, immersion in the mikveh represents rebirth into the Jewish people. I walked into the water down seven steps, while my rabbi explained that they represented the seven days of creation. The water was warmer than I expected and it almost came up to my shoulders. I fully submerged three times, reciting a blessing each time. Something about this process is said to ignite the Jewish soul in a convert, so when I came out, I was Jewish. It almost felt anticlimactic to do regular things, like get dressed and brush my hair. Afterwards, in the hall, one of my rabbis declared "Congratulations, you look Jewish!" and I went home to prepare for Shabbat.

My parents and my then-fiance-now-husband's parents came down for the weekend and came to Friday night services with us that night. In the middle of the service, I gave a short speech about why I converted, chanted Hatzi Kaddish, and was presented with my conversion certificate, which is now proudly framed in my apartment. My life since then has been an attempt to figure out my new identity, learn Hebrew, and come up with new blog posts.

My Conversion, Part 3: Deciding to Convert

So, I have realized that in my haste to post the previous segment of my Jewish journey and to keep it brief, I neglected to actually tell the story of my connecting to Judaism. And what fun is this if it's not a story, but just a series of my thoughts on Judaism at disjointed moments in time, taken out of context? So I am giving myself a do over.

As always, I encourage you to start at the beginning and follow the links back to this point in the story.

To recap briefly, I left my Lutheran roots and became agnostic. After a lot of serious thought about my beliefs in college, I decided to look into Judaism.

I have always been really uncomfortable with the unknown and Judaism had a lot of unknowns: different theology, rituals, traditions, melodies, prayers, and language. I think Hebrew is the hardest part about Judaism for a newcomer. Hebrew puts up a barrier to engagement that cannot be quickly overcome. Luckily, I started out in the Reform Movement, where the entire prayer book is transliterated (written as it sounds with English letters), so I didn't actually have to learn Hebrew right away to participate. Still, I was frustrated that I couldn't make the "ch" sound that is so prevalent in Hebrew and non-existent in English and that I couldn't understand what was actually being said. My choices were to follow along silently with the English translation or try to participate with the transliteration - I couldn't do both. I might have given up on Judaism just because of Hebrew if it hadn't been for Lecha Dodi. The song welcomes Shabbat on Friday night and the melody got stuck in my head every week. Humming a song always makes me want to sing it, which involves knowing the words, so I learned the chorus to Lecha Dodi. From there, I managed to learn the Sh'ma (the central prayer in Judaism) and random phrases from other prayers and songs. The more Hebrew I picked up, the more I appreciated the language and its continued use as an integral part of the religion.

Connecting with Judaism wasn't just about incorporating new customs and ideas into my life, but letting go of some childhood customs as well. Christmas was particularly hard to let go of. What kid wouldn't find Christmas fun? Gifts, lights, Santa, magic, and family. Even as I got older, Christmas was still the family holiday in my family. We basically celebrated it as a secular holiday (using a Santa hat as a tree topper instead of a star or angel and such) and when I started to become seriously interested in Judaism, I still hoped to hold onto Christmas in that secular way. Unfortunately, my goal was to find a theologically satisfying religion, which kind of conflicted with this desire to ignore the theological underpinnings of a holiday just because I liked it. I couldn't make a theological exception - although I tried anyway - and reconcile that with my overall goal. Christmas 2010 was my last Christmas before I converted (I was in the conversion process at that point). I went home to celebrate with my family and the family time was nice, but it didn't feel like my holiday anymore. This past winter was my first Jewish Christmas and I went through a weird wave of emotions. Between moving 750 miles from home and starting a new job in the Fall, I chose not to travel home for Christmas. When I made the decision in late October, I really thought it wouldn't be a big deal. I would be home around Thanksgiving; I could see everyone I wanted to see then. I was fine until about two weeks before Christmas, when I suddenly felt this huge loss, like I was going to be missing out on something important. I didn't miss the tangible stuff, like the lights or gifts, but the intangible family moments. Christmas itself turned out to be a non-event, just like I originally thought it would be. My fiance and I rented a movie and ordered Chinese food for my first authentic Christmas as a Jew. Here's hoping that next year I remember that everything was fine and just skip the sad part in the middle.

Another problem I had connecting to Judaism was fitting myself into the idea of l'dor v'dor, "from generation to generation." Judaism is a religion and a people (more on this in a bit), which means that it has been passed down from generation to generation, at least theoretically, beginning with Abraham and Sarah. When I first started thinking about conversion, this was one of the major things that held me back - for two reasons. I didn't think I would ever feel fully Jewish without that family connection. Family history plays a big role in Jewish life. Your Hebrew name is "YOUR NAME daughter/son of DAD and MOM". Converts take a Hebrew name ending with "bat/bar Avraham v'Sarah" (daughter/son of Abraham and Sarah), which is designed to fit them into the family tree. The flip side of that is taking on your Hebrew name without feeling a little like you're dropping your own family. The whole generational thing does not seem to be explained very well to potential converts and after having finally gotten it, I can see why - it's a confusing concept. Abraham and Sarah are not meant to replace your parents; they are your spiritual progenitors. Your relationship to Abraham and Sarah and your relationship to your parents only makes sense if you don't think about it too much. The second you try to really focus on what those relationships mean to your potential Jewish identity (if you're thinking of converting), it gets confusing again. Being comfortable with dual-natured relationships like this is important, because Judaism is full of them.

Another one of those dual-natured relationships is that Judaism is a religion and a people and culture. No one was ever able to satisfactorily explain how Judaism can be both a religion and a people. It's something that just is. But I grew up thinking of religion and culture as two completely separate things. My Lutheran religion had (seemingly) nothing to do with my Midwestern American culture; there is nothing specifically Lutheran about apple pie and baseball. The idea that Judaism could be both was something that just suddenly made sense to me. Overnight, I went from not getting it to being one of those people who gets it and can't explain it to anyone else.

Figuring out all of these things was really important to my decision to convert. Read about that decision and the official conversion process in Part 4, the final part of my conversion story!