Make the Kranjec Test Mandatory for Every Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah Dvar Torah

The Kranjec Test, developed by Andrea Hoffman, Lauren Cohen Fisher, Rabbi Ben Berger, Leah Kahn, Danielle Kranjec, and Rabbi Charlie Schwartz, requires that a Jewish text source-sheet with more than two sources must include at least one non-male-identified voice.

Inspired by the famous  Bechdel Test, in which works of art are deemed to pass only if they contain at least two women, who talk to each other, about something other than a man.

With at least a century of Torah and rabbinic commentary by women that has been published in English, mandating the inclusion of female-authored sources is a feasible task.

Hopefully it will make the “Draw a Torah Commentator” task turn out like the “Draw a Scientist” task. Starting in the 1950s, a series of studies asked children to draw a scientist and examined what they drew. At first the vast majority of children in these studies drew (white) men. Repeating the study over decades, the number of female scientists drawn has steadily increased. This kind of representation matters.

Do it for Henritta . Do it for Mahlah, Noah, and Hoglah, and Milcah, and Tirzah, the original female interpreters of Torah and advocates for inclusion in the Torah itself, the Daughters of Zelophehad!

And imagine what a generation of men and women growing up hearing women and men quoted will create that we can’t even imagine.

My daughter on Kippah and tfillin

I generally don’t post my kids’ achievements on my blog or facebook, but I couldn’t resist this one as it is so close to the themes of this blog. Here is Tefillin and Standing Out  by  my eldest.  It is short so you can head over to V’Tzivanu to check it out. Here is a quote:

Later, the first week after bat mitzvah, when I could wear tfillin, I left my tfillin — which my parents gave me — at home the first time because I was embarrassed to put them on when no other girls were. I eventually took them to school and one of the male teachers who put them on every week showed me how. The teachers were very friendly and made me feel more at ease. A few people gave me weird glances but nobody really cared. I felt different and a little on edge. The tfillin helped me feel like a Jewish adult, but I felt a little unsure of what to do. The next time I put them on I still needed help tying them, but I remembered more. I was more comfortable wearing my tfillin because I had done it before.

On an interesting note, she never mentions tallit, which she saw women wearing since birth, and which her school presented as non-optional (unlike tfillin).

 

 

All-of-a-kind Family tore down the mechitzah on Simchat Torah

What were shuls like in terms of seating  early 1900s in the United states?

The family pew/mixed seating came to Reform shuls in the 1850s and was adopted between the 1920s and mid-1950s by most what were to become “Conservative” congregations and a small but significant minority of what were to become”Orthodox” synagogues. (The terms were not used in then the way there are today and the movements were less  separate then). Most traditional shuls had michitzot. But that did not mean they were as strict as people seem to think today.

I was astonished to (re)read this passaged from the beloved children’s book, set in the Lower East Side in 1913, All-of-a-Kind Family Downtown by  Sydney Taylor, for whom the premier Jewish Children’s book award is named.

From the back of the synagogue Uncle Solomon’s voice suddenly rang out, “All the world is singing on this joyous holiday”. Right hand cupping his right ear, left arm flung wide, he began shuffling his feet in time with his song. The sisters stared at him, astonished. Could this be their dignified Uncle Solomon?“ Papa, he’s dancing!” Gertie shouted. “It a party?” “Yes, my little one, Papa cried gaily. “It’s God’s party and everyone is invited.”

Uncle Solomon’s feet kept whirling faster and faster. They were carrying him clear across the back of the synagogue. He did not dance alone for long. One after another joined in to form a circle. Pious old men forgot the stiffness in their aching joints and danced shoulder to shoulder with the younger men and children. The curtain separating men and women was thrust aside, and so contagious was the revelry, many of the younger women joined the dancers. In and out and roundabout, Uncle Solomon led them, and the excitement kept mounting.

Voices feebly raised at first, soared ecstatically higher. Feet that had moved hesitantly, quickened their pace. Only the older women remained seated on the benches, bobbing their heads and clapping their work-worn hands in time with the dancing. Mama, too, was caught up in the moment, bouncing a delighted Charlie up and down on her knee.

The sisters, swept along in the general furor, were prancing about in all directions. Tiny Gertie was hemmed in by a sea of moving legs till Papa swung her onto his shoulders. There she rode on her bobbing throne, smiling down triumphantly at Charlotte who was holding on for dear life to her dancing Papa.

Yes, it is is a fictionalized account of Sydney Taylor’s (Sarah Brenner’s) early  life and there are a few very small, trivial  historical inaccuracies. But when she so carefully recalls so many ritual details like how to kosher meat with salt at home or what it is like behind the mechitzah on Yom Kippur, I doubt she would randomly make this up.

No religious expression is static over time or immune to the world around it. And we are all the richer, spirituality  for that.

After all, is it really God’s party if not everyone is invited?

 

Orthodox Feminists- Why haven’t they left? Not because a lack of observant alternatives

A common question posed to Orthodox feminist is given the great conflicts between their feminism and their religious environment (which I mentioned here and is discussed here), why don’t they just leave and join a non-Orthodox denomination?

Two thoughtful authors,  Elana Sztokman and Leah Sarna address this issue in:

Why haven’t I left yet and Orthodox Feminists Are Not Conservatives in Disguise

Here are some of the points they make:

• A monopoly on expertise

I simply could not keep halacha on my own. I am not prepared to build and maintain my own eruv, slaughter my own animals, make my own wine and cheese, write my own Torah scrolls, home school my children or care for my own dead.

• Community– the Orthodox community is strong, engaged, educated Jewishly , kind, hospitable, creative, with kind, caring leaders.

• Connection to the past and a feeling of continuity with our ancestors, observing the same rituals and studying the same texts.

• Familiarity– I’ve never known anything else. All my friends are here. These are my people, whatever their flaws

• I like being in a halakhic community- a bazzillion brave points to Elana Sztokman for acknowledging  that the Conservative movement is also a halakhic movement

• It is an-all -encompassing life style that gives me an identity and allows me to easily recognise people “in the club”. It provides a rhythm to my life and defines how I dress and eat.

These reasons (except maybe the ones in the first bullet, which have some problems) are all are echoed in a beautiful essay The Rise of Social Orthodoxy: A Personal Account.  But through this essay I came to understand my underlying problem with these reasons and my respectful disagreement with Orthodox feminists. It is that the reasons that feminist or intellectually questioning or pro-LGBT people give for not leaving Orthodoxy are all sociological. “I love the community, I love the observances, I love the ritual etc.”  And what bothers me is the assumption that one cannot have a meaningful, observant community outside of Orthodoxy- because I do have one.

And my kids are educated and engaged and taught in their day schools by both observant and non-observant teachers, both Orthodox and non-Orthodox. Most recently I spent Purim at Reform shul in  the evening and at a hip partnership Minyan in the morning- at both I met other parents from my kids day schools and other members of the two (other!) shuls I actually belong to. I could go on about the possibility of a non-Orthodox observant life…

The point is- staying in Orthodoxy is certainly a respectable choice, but it is not the only option for an observant community. And to imply that it is the only choice is insulting to those of us who are observant but not Orthodox.

Also one can say only a small minority of non-Orthodox Jews live in a communities of engaged, educated, immersive observance, which is a totally valid point. But you can also say that a small minority of Orthodox Jews are self-defined as feminist or pro gay rights- so you are in a small community whatever you do.

If anyone who wrote these posts sees this, I would love to hear you thoughts.

 

 

 

 

Matzah and how authoritarianism is crumby

Shayna Zamkanei has an excellent post on what Matzah used be like. In Why your ancestors never ate matzos she goes over some important points.

Our ancestors never ate “flat, crisp matzah” until the 19th century. What they ate  looked very similar to a pita. She amasses a lot of proof. ( I had only head of the first one- Hillel folding the matzah, lamb and marror together).

We know this to be true for several reasons, the first of which is the “korekh” component of the seder. “Korekh,” which means to roll up or bend around, is what we are supposed to do when remembering Hillel and making the infamous “Hillel sandwich.” Since we cannot roll massa that is crisp, we must assume that massa must be pliable.

Second, the Babylonian Talmud Pesahim 7a suggests that bread and massa could be easily confused: “Rabbah the son of R. Huna said in the name of Rab: If a moldy loaf [is found during Pesah in a bread bin and we are uncertain whether it is bread or massa], if the majority of loaves [in the bin] are massait is permitted [because we assume it to be like the majority].” The massa currently sold ubiquitously in stores, however, never threatens to grow mold, no matter how hard you foster the right conditions. Soft massa, on the other hand, easily does.

Third, later sources also to refer to massa as soft, and Ashkenazi Jews cannot wash away this fact by claiming that soft massa was a Sepharadi custom. For example, the Rama (Rabbi Moshe Isserlis) wrote that massa should be made thinner than the tefah (around 3 inches) recommended in the Babylonian Talmud, while the Chafetz Chaim advised that massa be made “soft as a sponge” (Mishna Berura, Orach Haim 486). In “The Laws of Baking Massa,” the Shulchan Aruch deems baking to be sufficient  when “no threads can be pulled from it.” Rabbi Hershel Schachter, rabbinic dean at Yeshiva University and halakhic advisor for the kashruth division of the Orthodox Union, stated clearly that there is no custom that prohibits Ashkenazi Jews from eating soft massa.

She attributed today’s cardboard matzah to the “its industrial production beginning in the 1800s.” However I think there are other, intertwined  reasons as well.

If you bake your own matzah freshly even with the strict “18 minutes from flour-water contact” to end of  baking rule, it is not hard and cracker like. I know this because our family has baked matzah (when we did it it was with Passover flour) at a koshered outdoor  pizza oven at the annual matzah bake in Toronto. The matzah comes out soft and chewy but turns stale and hard in  few days.

I also noticed  recipes for home made matzah in one of my favourite cook books, The Classic Cuisine of the Italian Jews, I: Traditional Recipes and Menus and a Memoir of a Vanished Way of Life by Edda Servi Machlin. She also includes stories and cultural information about the Roman Jews (who are neither Ashkeanzi/Sepharadi because they existed before  split). She recounts how everyone used to make their matzah at home. Her recipes also call for using oil or sweet wine instead of water and for the 18 minutes applying to the baking time and not the total contact time. She describes how children loved matzah and loved being involved in baking and eating it.

Even before industrialization, worries about kashrut and strictness lead many Eastern European communities  to allow only the town baker to make matzot. People were not trusted to do it in their homes. This created a situation where the industrialization was possible and its inferior product was accepted by the community because they had already lost contact with the visceral tastes and knowledge of what used to be a home-centred mitzvah. And this is what we lose when we worry more about halacha then the actual mitzvot.

So I say, fight the cardboard and crumbs and take back matzah!!

Make your own. ( At home need a very hot oven, passover flour and speedy hands if you want it to be traditionally kosher. Or commandeer an outdoor bread oven and kosher it). One batch is enough for putting out at your seder and for the experience.

 

 

Well, Conservative Movement it is time to make up your mind

Rabbi Olinsky, a Conservative rabbi, had an excellent Article in  Haaretz on egalitarianism.

Teen girls laying tefillin: Brave enough to be different

He begins by describing how he prepared a girl for her bat mitzvah, the Torah reading, the dvar Torah and  including showing her how to wear tallit and tfilin. She was excited to use them. Then she got  to the “egalitarian” Conservative service:

 No other adolescent girl was wearing tefillin that morning, and very few chose to wear tallitot. Although the community was egalitarian and women had the same opportunities for participation in Jewish ritual as men, most of the teenage girls declined to engage in the rituals of laying tefillin and wearing tallitot. So too, this bat mitzvah girl folded up her tallit, zipped up her tefillin bag, and has yet to put them on again. Why? Because she does not want to stand alone. She wants to be “normal.”

 After exploring the issue, he concludes “Making egalitarianism a priority is about more than giving women a choice; it must encourage and expect participation. True egalitarianism is men and women being viewed as – and feeling – equally obligated. “

I was struck by two other passages in his article that I thought were in fact describing obstacles to his goal.

1)”Under the movement’s understanding of halakha (Jewish law) women have the opportunity to participate in all aspects of Jewish rituals if they wish.”

Both men and women have to believe women are obliged to with as much force of halacha as men are. So Conservative halacha has got to change to an unequivocal “Women are obliged. period” or the minds and culture of its members won’t.  (Did I just use the words Conservative Halacha and unequivocal in the same sentence? hmmm).

and 2) “I am a part of a movement in which the overwhelming majority of affiliated congregations are egalitarian.” Really if the movement is to stand behind the issue than that number should be 100%. If women are obliged to perform mitzvot and your congregation  does’t let them, than that should be seen as outside the pale– and those congregations should be treated like those who perform intermarriages- unaccepted. If egalitarianism is right morally and halchickly then non-egalitarianism is wrong morally and halchickly. It is not a quaint custom, it is just wrong.

 I wrote to Rabbi Olinsky to ask him about these issues:

“Do you think the movement is brave enough to do that? I ask on behalf of my 13 year old daughter who is one of the few in her class to wear tfillin (or the only).”

And to my surprise he answered me! And even more to my surprise he basically agreed  with me on un-egalitarian congregations and on halckic obligation. He told me that Rabbi Pamela Barmash, who sits on the Conservative Movement’s Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, is currently writing a teshuvah,  that focuses exactly on this idea of equal and expected obligation.

If  only the Conservative movement would listen to people like Rabbi Olinsly and Rabbi Barmash it might save itself. But given past movement on  issues like these I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Lakewood Modesty Game Cards For Young Girls – FailedMessiah.com

Lakewood Modesty Game Cards For Young Girls – FailedMessiah.com.

The bad things are: eating ice cream outside, shouting a compliment from a bus window to your teacher (shouting is the problem here), laughing out loud ( as opposed to letting your face turn red and having people ask you why), being wild with a shopping cart,  dancing inside but with the shades open and the creepiest of all “when alone in my room changing with modesty because G-d is always watching”.

It is obvious that these are hateful and tell girls that basically their presence is shameful and sexualized, claims that the male gaze is always there and always watching…(And offers a creepy, creepy view of G-d who can apparently watch through your bedroom walls when you change but can’t see though the shades when you dance ).

The question is– what are the parallels in the forms of Judaism we like to think of as  “modern”  and “forward-thinking”

The free market model (though a religion to some) does not apply to everything

Thanks to Dan Mendelsohn-Aviv for pointing out this great article by Seth Chalmer, Can’t Buy Me Judaism , which critiques the use commoditification of Judaism in organizational discourse. Read the whole thing to appreciate the conclusion.

..these visions deserve our commitment, our time, and yes, our money, because they place our individual lives within a larger reality that calls us, challenges us, and claims us. If we forget that we are called to higher purposes, and treat Jewish engagement as one more product line among many, then failure to engage will be our smaller problem; if Judaism is merely merchandise, then it will not deserve to succeed.

There is no community that is worthwhile to join that does not make obligations upon you.  If you create a community that is worthwhile, people will accept and even relish their obligations. If you are trying to attract people who wish to have no obligations, you will never create a worthwhile community.