Gargantuan cats

Simcha weighs 11.9 pounds. Osher is 11.4. And to think that they started out so pitifully scrawny!

Simcha tried to escape today by running out the front door. He got as far as the platform one floor down... and then he heard the pounding rain and felt the cold wind. He came back very quickly, tail between his legs.

Some thoughts on prayer

It is no secret that I’m not such a huge fan of services. I freely admit it; it's something I work on. Today’s service at school, however, blew me away.

During the Torah service, the first reader came up to the bima, and then the second. The third reader, a cantorial student in his 30s, looked very nervous, and as he finished chanting the portion, a few people called out “yasher koach!” ("good job," basically). I was a little confused – what was so special about this third reader, named Lev, that he would get a yasher koach and no one else?

After the voices died down, Mary, the cantor who was leading, explained. Today was the first time Lev had ever publicly read Torah, and so it was, in effect, his Bar Mitzvah. Mary then gave a small “Bar Mitzvah speech" talking about all of Lev’s accomplishments this year, and how proud we all were of him. She said the traditional blessing over the Bar Mitzvah that’s found in our prayerbook… and then she reached underneath the bima, took out a wrapped package, and presented him with a Bar Mitzvah kiddish cup from this year's cantorial class. (which I realize is probably only funny if you're Jewish, because that's the stereotypical gift given to a 13 year-old from a temple Board). Everyone in the sanctuary broke into the traditional song, “Siman tov v’mazel tov,” and we cheered and clapped. Lev was literally shaking, he was so moved. I had tears in my eyes, and I wasn't the only one, by far. It was the first time our community had come together in such a way (I felt), and I was truly impressed with the caliber and warmth of my classmates. Mary, Lev, and the whole congregation were so genuine and honest in their emotion, it was very touching. It was a glimpse into the kind of clergy we will become.

Immediately following the Torah reading is the d’var Torah, or sermon. This week's Torah portion is the poetry section where Moses and the Israelites sing after crossing the Red Sea, where God is praised as “ish ha-milchama,” the man of war. Jessica gave her d'var Torah on the nature of peace and war – are Jews a peaceful people, or a warring one? Is God vengeful or just? A seeker of peace or one who necessitates death? She explored the many facets of God as seen through Torah and rabbinic commentary. In the end she came to the conclusion that just as Shrek says to Donkey, “people are onions” and have many layers, how much more so must have God – only that instead of seeing one layer at a time in people, we see them all at once in God. I kept thinking of Whitman’s “Do I contradict myself?/ Very well then, I contradict myself;/ (I am large – I contain multitudes.)” [From Leaves of Grass, which is just as potent now as when it was published in 1900. Online version found here]. Jessica’s blog is now linked to ours, so hopefully she’ll post it soon. Go read it for a wonderful theological take on the qualities of the Divine.

Much later today, in my last class, someone else said something which struck me. This classmate commented that she feels less alone when she prays, because often the words in the book mirror her thoughts. She said that she feels that she is a part of an everlasting community because her thoughts had been thought by someone else over a thousand years ago. This had never occurred to me in such a fashion – not only is prayer a hearkening back to community, but it means that yes, we may be a speck in the universe, but we are not a speck ALONE in the universe. Other specks in other ages have had the same thoughts, feelings, and diatribes that we have, and by speaking the same words of prayer for countless generations, we specks become linked in a chain. L’dor v’dor literally means “from generation to generation,” but this was the first time in Israel that I've felt wholly part of that chain; not just as a future rabbi, not just as a Jew, but as a person, universally, who has loves, hates, fears, and dreams in a manner remarkably similar to everyone else in this world, in every time and place. Prayer is not just repeating by rote, but is a strand into our collective past, and a direct link to the hearts of our ancestors.

It may sound corny, but this whole day has felt like a moment of learning, of connection, and even of Torah.

This entry is completely disjointed. I'm in a weird mood. Bear with me.

Jonathan got up today at 8:32am. On a Saturday. I promptly rolled over and got up at 1:43pm. I feel GREAT!

You may or may not know, but Jaimee and Helayne are from New York. This is not a problem in and of itself. What IS astonishing, however, is that they’d never had Mexican food (no, Taco Bell does not count). So the four of us went hunting for separate ingredients and last night, for Shabbat, Jonathan and I provided them with honest-to-God, SoCal Mexicana. I made fresh salsa, which turned out quite well if I may say so myself, and Jonathan turned pinto beans into refried beans. We had to go to the specialty cheese shop to get cheddar, it’s such a foreign concept here. And tortillas – they were so small, and a package of 8 cost 20 NIS ($5)!!! [At home they’re the equivalent of Californian pita, and you get them fresh-baked for a pittance. Ah, imports.] We warmed the tortillas in the pan, covered them with beans, cheese, shredded lettuce, and salsa, showed them how to wrap a proper burrito, and voila! It was so good I felt homesick.

Becca is coming in a week and a half!! My dad is driving us for three days up north, we’re going to go south to the Dead Sea, and we'll wander all over Jerusalem. I’m planning on taking some days off of school, and I’m realizing that the best strategy is to tell them I’m taking off, not to ask. Does the school infantilize us? Yes. Are we really adults? Yes too. What’s the worst they’re going to do, kick me out of the program?

When the Dean came last week, each student met with him for an hour to sort of introduce ourselves and ask questions. He is truly wonderful, but now I feel done with Israel… if I’m here to learn Hebrew, make friends, and love the land, check, check, and CHECK. Been there, done that, let's move on. It’s very hard to stay focused on the present. So Courtney and Jeffrey are going to come over today for movie-watching, and we’ve specifically banned all talk of Cincinnati. We shall be unstressed, yes we shall!

Supersol, the main grocery store near us, closed at 2:30pm yesterday for Shabbat. The nerve! I had to go all the way to the little makolet, neighborhood store, 15 minutes down just to get my paper towels. I can’t wait til it starts getting dark later, then things will stay open more. Yes, I love the peacefulness of Shabbat, but when it gets dark at 5, how early must one close?!

Jonathan has been sick all week, and pining for Savta's jello. I've promised that next time we're over there, I'll watch her and learn how to make it. Jello is like chicken soup in my family; if you're sick, a jello mold is always waiting to soothe your throat, and make you feel all better.

I have realized that I really, really like dried cranberries and dried apricots mixed together. I never knew this before. Oh, and fresh kiwi is quite good. I used to hate it as a child, but it's so tasty here. Wissotzksy brand chai tea is excellent too. [And hmm, I talk about food quite a lot, don't I? Let's not analyze this...]

Now don't laugh at me, but I learned three fascinating things about the letter hay this week. In Biblical Hebrew, it has at least three different uses when placed in front of a noun. One, it can be a definite article, “the.” Two, it can serve as a question word – “(hay)good and (hay)bad” is not necessarily “they were good and bad” but can be “Is it good or bad?” depending on the vowels underneath the first letter. And three, hay as a suffix can be directional. Byte is house, and byta is in the direction of home. Tzafon is north, tzafona is to the north. I’ve mentioned this before, but now it makes more sense in light of the hay - Yameen today means right. The ancient world saw east as north, for they based everything off of the rising of the sun, so their right was actually south. Ben-yameen meant son of the right (or the south), and the tribe Benjamin was the tribe that faced the southernmost direction! I'm giddily geeking out in Biblical Grammar.

In terms of cat news, we've found that Osher now likes to play fetch, just like Simcha. He's fond of the bigger balls with more texture, so he can track them more easily. In my Cincinnati goodie bag I had gotten a stress ball and he's pretty much claimed it as his. (I also got an HUC Cincinnati t-shirt that fits Jonathan, a Cincinnati Reds bumper sticker, a piece of chocolate from Graeter’s, their big ice-cream/chocolate store, and a packet of Cincinnati chili. But oops, I'm not talking about Cincinnati, so never mind).

And this camera is fabulous, I shall end on some pictures.



The cats tore down the screens on our kitchen windows, so until they get fixed, we've left the windows only partially open so the cats don't fall out. Here are the kitties fascinated by the great outdoors. Osher's on the left, Simcha's on the right.



Osher sleeping with me this morning. You can see the top of my hand underneath him - he always has to be touching some part of us!

Obligatory cat pictures for Mara

Mara the brave with Simcha the curious.



Dad snuggling with boy. No, we're not ready for kids, not at all...



Someone looks comfy. The cat sleeps like the dead, he didn't even blink when the flash went off in his face!


(And for the record: yes, we love Osher too, he just isn't as photogenic.)

The joy of Gregory Maguire

I'm now a big fan of his books. After finishing Wicked, I had read Son of a Witch, the sequel (which I didn't like nearly as much). But he just redeemed himself with Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister, which I think is his best by far. It's the story of Cinderella but set in 17th century Holland. While Wicked and Son are planted firmly in the fantasy land of Oz, Confessions is part historical novel/part fantasy/part suspense with a a dash of Isabella Allende-type magical realism thrown in for kicks. The historicity mixed with mythology was beautifully done; I highly recommend it for anyone who liked either Wicked or Girl with a Pearl Earring.

A very good day

Holly and Dan are having a boy! I just found out, and I’m so excited. Even if you don’t know them, cheer them on anyway. :)

In terms of more Jerusalem-centered things, Simcha was a big hit in class. My presentation was at the beginning of the second period, so Jonathan came into class during break, and we let Simcha run around the room so that he could explore and smell everything. He was loving it, and was very social when everyone started trickling in. But then my teacher came in and said, “Kitah Gimel [the class above us] wants to see the cat too! Is that okay?” Uh, sure, I replied – and it was fine for me… but the poor kitty got a bit overwhelmed with 25 people and lots of noise in the room. He looked adorable when Jonathan was holding him, but he was majorly unhappy when we tried to pass him around. That said, everyone loved him, and I felt that my presentation stood out against the usual.

Last night after the Cincinnati dinner we walked home with Jeffrey and Courtney, and spent forever on the street talking. This morning Jonathan came with me to the student service, since it seems like all our close friends took part: Nicole was a service leader, Melanie was the cantor, Courtney gave the d’var Torah, Mara and Ethan read Torah, and Rebecca served as golelet (the one who dresses the Torah).

After the service it turns out one of my classes was cancelled, so I went home til after lunch. Joe and Nicole’s power had gone out, and I joined Joe upstairs to act as translator when he was talking to the electrician. I felt so badly for Joe, but I loved helping; it really cemented my resolve that this is the right place for me. This is what I want to do, to make a difference in people’s lives (however small) for a living. There's an ironic beauty in the fact that both times that I’ve felt this surety about my path, I've been far far away from an actual classroom.

After this wondrous revelation, I of course went back downstairs and promptly indulged in chocolate. One should always take every opportunity to celebrate, right? Right!

Bringing in the big machers (aka the big bosses have arrived)

The deans of all three stateside campuses (Cincinnati, New York, and Los Angeles) are in for the week, and have been quite helpful in giving out information for the upcoming four years. I won’t go into all of it here, but let’s just say that in addition to normal classes, I’ll have a High Holy Day pulpit next year, will be teaching Hebrew school once or twice a week, and have the option to have a monthly pulpit. Life seems like it will be affordable, the school provides insurance, and the dean is so genuinely *nice* that I’m really looking forward to moving (read that as: both eagerly anticipating and scared out of my wits).

Today’s Rabbinic Forum was a panel of the three deans: the LA dean, Rabbi Richard Levy, talked about the holiness of everyday life, and Rabbi Ken Kanter from Cincinnati gave us wisdom story tidbits from his 26 years experience as a pulpit rabbi (as opposed to a chaplain, or an administrator, or a college Hillel rabbi, or any of the other numerous types of rabbis one can be).

The presentation I found most interesting was from NY campus Rabbi Shirley Idelson, who spoke about the challenges to us as rabbinical students next year when we return to the States. Here in Jerusalem, for instance, we’ve taken Shabbat for granted, and it may be hard to culturally acclimate back to the US where Shabbat needs to be actively made, rather than just happen. Friends won’t live within walking distance, work doesn’t stop, etc; how will we deal with it? We will need to search even harder for the balance between academic graduate studies and religious seminary work, because juggling a busy schedule will make it easy to overlook spirituality.

She reminded us that the congregants in our student pulpits will most likely be extremely intelligent, complex people, and just because they may not know the Alef-Bet doesn’t mean we can talk down to them, or try to dumb down Judaism. She challenged us to respect other people’s traditions and knowledge, and not to impose our way of doing things on others. In that same vein, she also spoke of our first Holy Day pulpits, and cautioned us against being so wrapped up in logistical concerns that we forget to pray ourselves. The best part was when she said that it's okay, and almost expected, to feel that we're absolute frauds and be completely terrified come September - what do you mean, they’re calling me Rabbi?! She's the only person from the "establishment" who's said that! It was quite reassuring, because I'll tell you, at this moment, the thought of *leading other people* on Yom Kippur makes me feel decidely queasy.

Each campus also sponsored a dinner last night with the respective deans. The information presented was good, but in terms of food, I felt shrifted! LA and NY went to nice restaurants, one Mexican, one Italian, but we went to an Israeli hole-in-the-wall falafel place outside of the shuk! Hmph. I think there’s a definite Midwest slight… our last “catered” meal came from tinfoil-wrapped take-out containers. The LA lunch, in contrast, was at the King David Citadel Hotel. I wonder if it’s for financial reasons, like maybe the Cincinnati campus sponsors allocate the money to other places or something? I think I’ll do some detective work and find out.

And there's more to say, but I'll take Becca's suggestion and separate the entries for length and comment purposes.

Aah, the Orthodox

On Friday we went to the house of the man who I met in the grocery store, for Shabbat dinner. It was interesting – let’s just say that they think differently than Jonathan and I do, and leave it at that. For instance, over dinner we talked about mikvahs (ritual baths), kashrut (dietary laws), modesty laws and niddah (purity regarding women), and we disagreed on almost every point. The discussion became, ahem, *heated* at the point when the daughter’s boyfriend said that any person who converted under Reform or Conservative auspices wasn’t really Jewish. Yeah. That said, the food was excellent, their apartment was beautiful, and they were very warm, loving people. We invited them over to our place for movies, so we’ll see if they take us up on it.

We got back from their place at around 10, and then Nicole and Joe came over a bit later and we watched Shrek 2. They took some pictures of us still dressed up (you can't see it in this one, but I'm wearing a floor-length skirt).



After a late night, we got up at an ungodly hour this morning. The first thing we did was wash the cats in preparation for Simcha’s big day – tomorrow he’s going on a field trip! Everyone in our class has to give a 20-minute presentation on something, and rather than show pictures of a trip or event, which is what most people have been doing, I’ve decided to bring in warm fuzzies. Jonathan’s going to come down with him at the appointed hour, and he'll hold him and pass him around while I do the required Hebrew talking. I can't wait!

Nature reserve and Qumran

Thursday afternoon Jonathan and I went to a nature reserve and to Qumran, where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found. We went with a bunch of Israeli soldiers, on that same program that had fed us all lunch before.

The nature reserve was interesting, but a little bit scary – we found out that it’s the only reserve in Israel that’s actually increasing annually, since the Dead Sea is receding. There’s one spot from 1984 with a sign “Stairs to Dead Sea,” that’s now almost 2 km from the Sea of today.

Qumran was fascinating. It’s so close to the Dead Sea, I hadn’t realized. And the caves are huge, and HIGH up. I’d seen pictures before, but had never realized the scale. We wandered around the ruins for a bit – what was identifiable was eating halls, storage, water cisterns, and ritual baths. Then we walked to the caves, where the scrolls were discovered by Bedouins in the 1940s. Scholars assume that they belonged to the Essenes, a sect of Judaism that was unhappy with the rule of the Hasmoneans (think Hanukkah Maccabees).

This is the view looking down on the ruins of Qumran, with the Dead Sea and Jordan behind it:



Walking up to one of the caves:



Click here for more pictures.

A new semester

Instead of Bible this semester, I'm now taking Rabbinics. And can I just say, I am SUCH a geek! I've already done the homework for the next two weeks. It's fascinating! We're reading Mishnah, part of the Talmud, in the original Hebrew. I feel like this is the first "rabbinic" class I've had so far, on a subject that I always wanted to learn but never had the opportunity to study. Our professor is wonderful, and today, he even spent 10 minutes with us going over the Talmud Dictionary, telling us how to figure out the context of different words, their roots, and how to read the dictionary's abbreviations to figure out where the word was used in the Talmud. (And it was funny to realize that I'm concurrently learning modern, Biblical, and Mishnaic Hebrew - and the grammar is remarkably the same from Biblical times to 200 CE to now!)

If you're interested in such things, the Wikipedia entry on Talmud (here) is absolutely wonderful. Anytime I came across a word I didn't know in one of the readings, Wikipedia had it. I am so of the internet generation, and I love it!

I'm also taking "Society, Culture, and Belief of Islam" which addresses 22 countries in the Middle East. It's taught by two professors, one who knows Islam and the effect of religion, and the other who's a sociologist and is having us read U.N reports on the Arab world. It's a much more interesting topic to me than last semester's history class on Zionism.

Anyways, so it looks like more work, but also more fun!

(And as an update, my brother stayed over for a few days. But he hates being mentioned here, so I will leave it at that except to say that we watched lots of Star Trek and had a great time. :))

February article

Skip this if you read the blog regularly - I only have so much material in me at once!


When I meet a Jew in the United States, I feel like we have a bond. No matter where the other person is from, how long I have known them, or what their interests are, I feel connected to them by virtue of a shared religion.

In Israel, this bond is cemented a hundred fold. Orthodox, secular, or Reform, I feel a kinship with other Jews and an underlying sense of community. Eighty percent of Israelis are Jewish, and that’s a huge pool with whom to feel connected. In California, Temple Israel was my Jewish haven in the midst of a secular maelstrom. Here, I need no such safe place, for the entire world outside understands what it means to daven with a tallit, eat brisket for dinner, and say l’vreiut when someone sneezes.

Case in point: over the past two weeks I have had two very random, very memorable encounters with Israeli strangers. In each case, our Jewish bond quickly overcame small talk, and we connected on a deep, metaphysical level due solely to our shared foundations.

The first such instance was my conversation with a taxi driver. Buses don’t run on Shabbat, so two weeks ago, on a Friday night, we called a cab to take us home. We got into the cab, told the driver where to go, and settled into the back seat. He asked us our names, we told him; he said it was cold, we agreed. Then he asked the million-dollar question: what were we doing in Israel? I admit, I paused - the majority of the time I tell an Israeli in this conservative city that I, a woman, am a rabbinic student, I get a negative reaction. But I decided to risk possible backlash, and I hesitantly said, in Hebrew, “I’m studying to be a Reform rabbi.”

“Reformi???” he repeated, incredulous. “Ken,” I said, yes, “it’s different in America than it is here.” And our conversation began in earnest. Talk ranged from how much rabbis get paid, to what my parents think of my profession, to how common it is to have women rabbis, when all of a sudden the driver got more personal. He asked if I knew the story of my name, Michal, and her relationship to King David. He began to expound, complete with fervent hand motions, how David had loved Michal, and had arranged for her to be divorced to her then-husband so that she could marry him. Yes, I said, I knew of it. It’s like the story of David and Bathsheba, I said, and I proceeded to launch into the tale of the king looking over his balcony, seeing Bathsheba in the bath, wanting to marry her and sending her husband off to the battle front. From there we went onto Solomon; and the rest of the ride consisted of swapping Biblical stories at a rapid-fire pace and constantly interrupting each other.

When we got close to our destination, the driver paused in his speech and slowed down the cab. “From today on I’m Reform!” he proclaimed. “You drive on Shabbat, your husband doesn’t have a [black] hat or payes – you’re so nice, and Jewish. If all Reform is like you, then I am Reform!” And he meant it; it was all he talked about for the next few minutes, until we got out of the cab.

Flash forward to one week later, when I found myself standing in the grocery store checkout line. I was third in line and was extremely frustrated; it had looked so good, but in accordance with Murphy’s Law, the man at the head of line was arguing strenuously with the checker about coupons and the line had come to a complete standstill. I sighed, and the man immediately in front of me turned and smiled. He commented on the brand of wine I was buying; I commented on the amount of onions he had. He asked me where I was from; I asked him how old his children were.

Fifteen minutes later, the customer up front had finally settled his coupon debate with a huff, and the checker had to verbally prod my checkout partner forward – he hadn’t noticed that the line had moved, nor had I, for we were deep in the middle of discussing the divisive nature of religious denominations, and the authenticity of the “God-idea” throughout history. My new friend paid for his groceries, waited for me to pay for mine, and then walked me partway home. We exchanged emails, and Jonathan and I are now going to his house this Shabbat to join him, his wife, and his children for services and dinner.

Israel is a country where deep connections are easily made. The land invites closeness, for the roots of all Jews are, at heart, the same. Shared bonds bring together the American student, the native Israeli-born, and the Yemenite, Greek, or Russian immigrant who has made aliyah. Openness is not a rare commodity, and friendship with strangers can be found in the most unexpected places. I didn’t want to walk home late at night, and ended up introducing someone to Reform Judaism; I grumbled in the supermarket line and became an adopted member of an Israeli family. I cherish this quality in Israel, and mourn its absence in the country of my birth. But I am hopeful that I will not completely abandon it when I return - although the majority of America isn’t Jewish, everyone has something in common. After all, bonds are not formed by religion alone, and friendship is truly unlimited.

Pictures for parents

Jonathan and Simcha: "Dad, put me doooown!"




Me looking tired:




Fabulous neighbors Nicole and Joe:




"Why'd you wake us?!"

Weekend update

1. Shabbat dinner at the Dean’s house = nice end to Colloquium, surprisingly relaxed, homemade challah.

2. Star Wars on the projector with Anna and Jamie, Josh and Donna = popcorn, M&Ms, fun.

3. Finished Amos Oz’ A Tale of Love and Darkness = well-written autobiography, nice use of non-chronological narrative, annoying because don’t know half the historical references.

4. Tea with Sandra and Arnie (who own a house in Cincinnati already) = helpful + stress! To buy or rent? To pick one neighborhood over the other? To ship the cats, or drive the cats in the moving van? Oyness.

5. Sandra and David sending us Hanukkah goodies from home = yum. Cats playing with box = even cuter.

Only in Israel!

I just had the most marvelous experience of the week - in the grocery store checkout line! I was third in line, and the person who was first was arguing strenuously with the woman at the checkout counter. The man immediately in front of me was American-born, and we got into a conversation. This is normal (for me at least). What *isn't* normal is what we talked about - after the first few minutes of small talk, we got onto the divisive nature of religious denominations, the idea of God throughout history, my and Jonathan's plans for kids, his daughter's relationship with a much older man, and more. After 15 minutes both of us had paid for our groceries, so naturally, we exchanged emails, and we're going over to their house next week for Shabbat dinner. I love Israel! Small talk is kept to a minimum, Judaism bonds everyone, and friendship can be found anywhere.

The last of Colloquium

Today was eh - it was on leadership, and stuff that I've done before, just with a Jewish text-study slant.

Thanks to Jessica, here are the questions we explored in yesterday's reflection group. I think they're wonderful to ask of persons of all ages, in all places, of any religion (with the exception of the last question perhaps, which is location-pertinent). Ask them yourself about your own religious background - these questions inspired deep talks of over an hour!

- What has been the experience/person (or both) which has been particularly significant in shaping how you think about the meaning of being Jewish?

- What ideas/beliefs/values/practices have shaped your personal Jewish identity?

- What role has gender, or any other particular factor in your background, played in shaping your self-understanding as a Jew?

- How has your experience in Israel thus far impacted your sense of your own Jewish identity?

Gender roles revisited

Last night I called Nicole to see what she was up to. Turns out that she and Joe were at the supermarket. Transcript of our conversation below:

Nicole: Hey, do you want to be spontaneous and make dinner together?

Me: Sure, that sounds great!

Nicole: What do you want to make?

Me: Umm, I have no idea. What are you getting?

Nicole: Uh, a lot. What do you have?

Me: I'm not really sure. You know, why am I talking about this? I won't be cooking
anyway. Let me give the phone to Jonathan.

Nicole: You're right, why am I on the phone too? I'll hand it to Joe.


And so we switched the phones over to our spouses, and the boys cooked beautifully. :)

I’m in rabbinical school!

And for the first time, I really feel it. Yesterday and today have been perfect, exactly what I’ve been hoping for.

We started off the day with a lecture by a Prof. Steven Cohen, a sociologist on “Jews, Judaism, and Jewry in the North American Context.” Again, it sounds boring, but it was really a fascinating lecture and then Q&A session on trends in American Judaism what it means to be Jewishly identified.

Some of the issues we discussed include:

How much of a threat is Orthodoxy? Because of fertility rates and intermarriage, the Reform movement is shrinking while the Orthodox is growing. As rabbis, how do we reverse that trend?

The Judaism of our parents and grandparents is very different from the Jews of my generation. Our grandparents, the children of the immigrants, lived in a secular world until 5pm, but when they came home, they had only Jewish friends (mainly because they still weren’t allowed in the Christian world). It used to be unheard of to have non-Jews at a seder; it was a Jewish event, period. Nowadays it’s almost ethically wrong not to have non-Jews, because we should share our culture. Today’s Jews want to blend the Jewish and non-Jewish world; Jewish events are “cooler” and gets more attendees if they’re held at a coffeeshop, and not at the temple.

Another thing that I hadn’t realized is how localized Jews are becoming: our grandparents were members of many Jewish organizations, but today, the average age of a B’nai B’rith member is “deceased.” (I actually had to look it up on Wikipedia, because I didn’t really know what it was myself!) Jews today are affiliated with synagogues, JCCs, and religious schools, and that’s it. That means that we tend to look at ourselves in terms of individual communities and not as a “Jewish people.”

Obviously, as we continue to live in an open society, we intermingle, and intermarriage completely changes Jewish demographics. Statistics are fascinating: I had no idea that 2/3 of Jews who intermarry raise non-Jewish children. Or, in asking an intermarried couple if the kids are being raised exclusively Jewish – if you ask the Jewish partner, 43% say yes. But if you ask the non-Jewish partner, only 21% say yes.

An interesting point was brought up that maybe Jews are hypocritical. When Latinos and African-Americans intermarry, or Protestants and Catholics, we say hurray, a rainbow is great. But not so for us. Prof. Cohen explained that Jews are unique, because we’re the one religious group that requires ethnic boundaries to survive. He affirmed yesterday’s point that intermarriage is now the most critical struggle. It’s so foreign to my religious experience, but I guess that if people aren’t rooted in a religion, and only go to church on Christmas and Easter, or to temple on the High Holy Days, then what is there really to cling to?

After that session ended we had talks on “Generational Differences in Religious Perspectives,” and then “The Uniqueness of American Synagogues,” and lastly a reflection session on personal identity. The latter lecture surprised me – I hadn’t known how much suburban temples were influenced by churches! As people moved out of cities, Christians started building churches on every corner… so the Jews did too. There is a higher ratio of affiliated Jews (Jews with temple membership) to Jews living in an area, in the South than in anywhere else – because being “churched” is the thing to do.

Also, how much is synagogue life influenced by the business model? We have Boards, committees, budgets, etc. Each synagogue is an independent, self-directed entity; the Union of Reform Judaism gives recommendations, not mandates, so education and even services are different at every synagogue. Synagogues are franchises, not chains!

I’ll end with a story that indicates where Judaism is today: Prof. Cohen told of how he recently did a study on what Conservative Jews think of the movement towards ordaining and marrying gays and lesbians. After reading the results of the study, the head rabbi of the Conservative movement turned to him and said that he had three reactions: a moral reaction, a halachic reaction, and a business one. The problem is, they were all different!

Colloquium

What a wonderful day! School started up again, and instead of regular class, we’re having a three-day colloquium on “Challenges and Opportunities: Jewish Leaders and the Jewish Community.” To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to it - I was sorely mistaken!

The day started off by reviewing the “Platforms” of Reform Judaism, or the published statements of what Reform Judaism is and what it stands for. We talked about what differed from the Platforms of 1885, 1937, 1976, and 1999 in terms of God, Torah, People, Religious Practice, Palestine/Israel, and the “Mission” of Judaism, taking into account the historical context of the time.

Then there was a fabulous lecture by Rabbi Michael Meyer, who it turns out will be a history professor of mine in Cincinnati. This guy is the world expert on the history of Reform Judaism – he literally wrote the book on it (not to mention the entry on “Reform Judaism” in the Encyclopedia of Religion). He talked about two visions for the future of the movement, the dark and the bright. Basically, we can go two ways: we can cease to exist and assimilate, or we can reclaim the “religious” aspect of Judaism and grow stronger. It sounds simplistic, but his talk was fascinating, delving into the nitty gritty of mainstream religious practices and Jewish identity with such honesty that it was near moving. No one knows what will happen in the future, but he thinks that the movement will inevitably incorporate aspects of both visions.

After lunch came the best part: I went to the optional seminar on “Non-Jews in Congregational Life.” Surprise surprise, it was run by the former rabbi of Temple Beth Sholom in Santa Ana, where Jonathan and I attended our Intro to Judaism class! Reform Judaism recognizes that around 1/3 of all synagogue members are now intermarried – what issues does this bring up for temple governance (e.g. can a non-Jew serve on a temple Board or committee?), temple community (who can join the temple? should we have active outreach?), and ritual (what is the level of a non-Jew's participation in life cycle events? is there a criteria for performing intermarriage?). The session involved lots of personal examples, and lots of discussions on “what defines a Jew” and a “non-Jew.”

Last but not least, we broke up into the campuses we’re going to next year and spoke with faculty about academics. Next year we have no Modern Hebrew and very little Biblical Hebrew, but instead we take much more interesting things like a history survey course, narrative and poetry in the Bible, Mishnah/Tosefta (Oral Law and its supplement), and Hebrew Literature. The prof specifically said that next year was more conceptual, and not focusing on translation. Hooray!

Addendum: After a wonderful dinner tonight with Nicole and Joe, and discussing the above issues, I think I learned more than I did in class! I love when school catalyzes even better conversations with friends, than the ones led by a teacher.

*giggle*

It's been pretty cold here, so we've been turning on our spaceheaters. Simcha and Osher have been sleeping in front of them.

How cute, we thought. The cats like the heat.

Apparently they like it more than we realized - their whiskers are singed!

Kitties

Jonathan and I were doing laundry, and left our red laundry basket in the entry hall. Simcha and Osher decided to play in it, and somehow turned it on its side and used it as a hamster wheel. After they tired of rolling, Osher was more than content to hang out in the basket. Simcha, on the other hand, recognized that the basket could be in fact a stepping stool... and that he could use it to be closer to his beloved Feather! Nicole, in the pink skirt, was waving the feather above him, and the moment after this picture was taken, he pounced.

The rest of the touring pictures

Here are some teaser pictures to convince you to go to the site.


These are crosses carved into the wall of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (where Jesus' tomb is), made by Crusaders on their pilgrimage.


Definition of Israel: olive tree growing next to Second Temple ruins.


Here is Antonio standing in the ruins of a shop along the street next to the Second Temple. He's hard to see, in the bottom half wearing red and a brown hat, turned toward the Temple. The oddly shaped stones above him are called Robinson's Arch, the only remaining part of a huge arch that connected the Temple entrance to the street level on the hill above. The main street was below, and sold sacrifices, clothing, you name it. It's where all the mikvahs (ritual baths) are too.


Me in a souvenir shop.

For the rest of the pictures (and there are many) go here.

What a week!

I'm a few days behind on blogging, and unfortunately, I don't have the energy to write all of it up. So in a nutshell:

On Saturday Antonio, Jonathan and I went to the Vatican headquarters in the Old City. It's gorgeous. Then we visited the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. It was extremely confusing, it's a medieval church and there were rooms and rooms added on over the years. There were a bunch of monks singing in the various chapels - one group was at the site of Jesus' crucifixion, another chanting where he'd been enbalmed, and yet another at his tomb. I'll post pictures later tonight or tomorrow.

Sunday was spelunking day. We had made reservations at the Davidson Center and their Virtual Reconstruction Model (3D model of what the Second Temple looked like) and the southern wall excavations, which are an archeologist's dream (link). We hiked and hiked in the rain, then turned down another museum to go to a cafe. We had wanted to go to the Israel Museum to see the Dead Sea Scrolls, but they were closed. Ah well, the onion soup made up for it (at least for me - Antonio may be another story!)

That night we hosted a New Year's Eve party. About 10 people showed up, in waves, so it was very small and casual and lots of fun. I met new people, like Ethan's boyfriend and friend from home, and Joe's sister and her boyfriend, and we drank lots of wine, ate lots of cheese and olives and rugalach, and blew the shofar at midnight. We played a game of Hoopla, watched half of Return of the King, and sent everyone off at 3am.

Antonio left the next morning, and we were supposed to go to Arad to see my grandmother, but there was a short in the main circuit of our apartment, and our electricity went out! By the time it was fixed it was 4pm, so we got to Arad very late. After relaxing, eating a ton of fruit salad and watching multiple Star Trek episodes (not to mention going to an amazing restaurant in Beersheva), Jonathan and I got back at 7pm tonight.

Viera from Germany, who I met on a Holocaust fellowship in 2002, visited with her boyfriend at 8pm, and after they left I made arrangements to meet with a potential HUC student tomorrow morning. Then tomorrow afternoon my brother comes to stay for a few days. And then school starts. I'm going to need a vacation from my vacation!

(P.S. To all who left voicemail messages: Netvision sucks, our Vonage still doesn't work. The goal tomorrow is to get it up and running.)

(P.P.S. Rachelle and anyone else who's interested: Antonio and I met in college in 1998, and Jonathan and I met in 2003 through a mutual friend. Email me for more details. :))