Shuls Minyans and Synagogues

Crumbling history: Is it worth rebuilding?All over New York City, churches that were once synagogues still have hints of their Jewish pasts, from stained glass windows depicting scenes from the Torah, to Stars of David carved into wooden pews.  But while these churches once gave new life to historically Jewish buildings, the Times reports that many churches are meeting the same unfortunate fate as their predecessors. The recent re-opening of the Eldridge Street Synagogue is a positive sign, but there are countless smaller churches and synagogues in New York that are currently falling into disrepair, and it’s hard not to wonder what’s ahead for these struggling institutions. Does the Jewish community have a stake in preserving these landmarks, even if they’re not for our own use? Is saving the buildings really the best use of time and funds, or should efforts go towards emerging community centers? Or, as Stacey Kalish asks in her recent review of the new Deity bar in Brookly (formerly a yeshiva), should religious buildings be revamped for decidedly secular purposes? With structures deteriorating and congregation membership waning, these questions will undoubtedly continue to arise.

A while back Soccer suggested I write about the Young Israel decision to ban converts and women from being presidents of their congregations. They also prohibited any of the shuls under their umbrella from having women’s tefillah groups, or even women-only megillah readings. And they have new legislation saying that all rabbis hired for Young Israel shuls have to be approved by the National Council, which has been seen as a way to screen for rabbis ordained at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah, who are apparently not frum enough for Young Israel.
Young Israel: totally disconnected
Normally, I wouldn’t pay much attention to any of this. I don’t go to a YI shul, nor does any of their rhetoric carry much weight for me under the best of conditions, so if they want to be sexist, and elitist and frummer-than-thou that’s really none of my business.

But then I read a really great post on another blog about how the National Council of Young Israel has become obsolete and it pretty much convinced me. Here’s the post:

How bad does the National Council of Young Israel suck?

 

This month's YU magazine has a pretty damning article on the NCYI. Basically, NCYI member shuls are fed up with the NCYI for the following reasons:

• NCYI's overall move to the 'right'
• New legislation saying that NCYI must approve shul Rabbis (aimed at YCT)
• Ban against women and converts being shul presidents (repugnant says one pres)
• Ban against women's tefilah groups and even women's megilah lainings
• They offer nothing of value to their members
• They exist to expand their own power and prestige
• They 'lock in' member shuls by threatening to take hold of all their assets if they leave

I belong to a NCYI shul, and I can validate that my shul has most of the above issues with NCYI. In fact, at repeated conversations over multiple Shabbatim, everyone I spoke to agreed we should leave NCYI. Also I read the NCYI Viewpoint magazine every issue, it's always the same junk – endless pictures of Lerner or Moztofsky meeting with some notable or another. A complete waste of time.

I went to the NCYI site to see which services they offer, because I personally haven't seen anything useful from them. According to their site:

“Did you know that the Department of Synagogue Services of the National Council of Young Israel can be a tremendous resource to your synagogue? Here are some of the types of programs and services available to our Young Israel branches:”

Sounds great! So what is the list?

1. Branch Consultations
2. The Suggestion Box
3. NCYI Program Bank
4. Synagogue Lay Leadership Day
5. Sisterhood Services Day
6. Shabbat Shalom Yerushalayim

So let's go through these one by one and see if there's anything useful in there.

Branch Consultations
Broken link, nothing there.

The Suggestion Box
This is a series of short articles about how to do fund raising. Ssince all the articles are freely available on the web to anyone, I don't see how joining the NCYI is much of a benefit here.

Program Bank
'This one looks useful – a catalog of programming options, but the list is pathetic, e.g. a Barbeque-a-thon. Wow! I could never have thought of that on my own. Another example – 'Rubber Duck Races to pay synagogue bills'. Wow, I really would never have thought of that. And then there's the Pre-Pesach Stress Buster Program, where they suggest that the shul sends women to a spa for a few hours.

Why not give the women of the community some time off to escape and recharge by arranging for a few hours in a spa? Schedule an evening close to Pesach that your synagogue can take over a spa for women only: offer an evening of total relaxation. In addition, have a speaker discuss reducing stress during stressful times.

Yes, it really is that stupid.

Any synagogue worth it's salt can figure out programming ideas, surely. At least ideas of this pathetic caliber. And what kind of programming materials will the NCYI send out for the stress buster program?! I'm friendly with our programming director, maybe I should ask her to ask NCYI about this.

Synagogue Lay Leadership Day
Broken link. Sounds boring anyway.

Sisterhood Services Day
Ditto

Shabbat Shalom Yerushalayim
This is a special weekend around Yom Yerushalayim to impress on people the importance of Yerushalayim. I've never seen this, though my shul does it's own Yom Yerushalayim thing. Anyway, the web site says:

“By targeting every Orthodox synagogue in America, "Shabbat Shalom Yerushalayim" brings together Jews from across the United States through local synagogue programming.”

So if they target every OJ shul in the US, how is this a benefit of belonging to NCYI?

And that's it.

Based on their web site and my own experience, I have to agree with the YU article. The NCYI provides nothing for it's members except for the name. And going forward, that name might just be an embarrassment.

 

Far be it from me to tell NCYI how to run their organization that I never really liked to begin with, but when you’ve become irrelevant to your membership, and actively distance yourself from anything labeled “modern” how do you expect to retain any kind of standing in the Jewish world?

If FaithHacker is a guide to practical spirituality, it seems like Young Israel has become a home for impractical and disconnected spirituality.

I heart this article from last week in the Washington Post:

Believers in Community
Atheists Enjoying Social Benefits of Church Even if They Don't Believe in Religious Rituals

By Jonathan Mummolo

Omar Latiri is an atheist. But the former Muslim has begun going to church and even decorated a Christmas tree, albeit a plastic one, this year.
Humanist Judaism: makes sense to me
"I don't believe," said Latiri, an Air Force reservist who is a member of a Unitarian Universalist church in Bethesda with his wife. "But that doesn't mean I don't see the benefit of something that is from the Bible in terms of humility, caring for other people, forgiveness, charity."

In a society filled with religious references -- the Pledge of Allegiance with its "one nation under God," weddings, funerals and other events -- some atheists such as Latiri attend houses of worship and enjoy the traditions and sense of community they provide, minus the sacred interpretations. Other atheists have adopted alternatives to rituals such as baptisms.

"I was looking for a place with a sense of community without any animosity toward people of other faiths," Latiri, 32, of Silver Spring said.

Latiri, and atheists like him, are choosing to personalize religion rather than abandon it. They like the congregations, the moral codes and the food and festivities that religious communities offer. They say that just because they can't accept the idea of God, they don't see the need to throw the rest away.
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"Sometimes if the atheist looks upon what's going on as a cultural experience, it's more palatable,'' said Carole Rayburn, a psychologist in Silver Spring and former head of the American Psychological Association's division that researches the role of religion in people's lives. "Intellectually, one could disagree . . . but could say that emotionally, this has a certain appeal."

Brenda Platt, 44, a Takoma Park atheist of Jewish ancestry who was raised secular, is a member of Machar, the Washington Congregation for Secular Humanistic Judaism, a nontheistic group that retains Jewish culture, education and celebrations.

The group, which she joined about seven years ago, has a cultural school, holds monthly Shabbat services and celebrates High Holidays, although a deity is never invoked.

Platt said she has found simple but meaningful benefits: "The food, the music, the dancing and the feeling that that's my heritage, that's my tribe, that's my blood."

Full Story

I think this is completely awesome. For a long time I’ve been saying that my biggest beef with atheism is that it leaves people without a network to fall back on in times of crisis and joy, and these people have said, “Okay, I think this whole God thing is a crock, but I want a community, and I want to have something in my life reinforcing humanistic values, so here’s how I’m going to get those things without praising any Almighty anything.”

I mean, of course I believe in God pretty intensely, but I think it’s really great that people have come up with a way to embrace their heritage (in the case of Machar) and/or to embrace values like “humility, caring for other people, forgiveness, charity” without feeling like they have to sign on to a theology they don’t believe in.

Finally, some solid options! Also check out this article from Time magazine about atheist Sunday schools.

After Shabbat I’m off to Dublin to do research for my book. I studied in Dublin for a few months in 2004 at Trinity College Dublin and had an awesome time and a particularly interesting Jewish experience. Though this trip I’m going to spend a lot of time in posh kitchen redecorating shops (long story), I hope to hit Terenure Hebrew Congregation for shacharit one day (I figure if I lay tefillin all the way up on the balcony, I won’t offend any one). There are a bunch of other fun Jew-y things to do in Dublin, though.
Outside the Jewish Museum: Herzog wuz here

First, you really should stop by Terenure Hebrew Congregation. If you’re going to be there for Shabbat let Rabbi Lent, the local Chabad rabbi, know ahead of time, and he’ll almost certainly invite you over for a meal. His family is charming, and you’re sure to get great food.

The other must when visiting Dublin is the Jewish Museum. It’s a little disorganized and crowded, but really interesting. You have to check ahead of time to see when it’s open (when it’s not peak tourist season it’s only open on Sundays) but it’s definitely worth a visit, and it’s free (but be ready to be asked to make a donation).

When I was living at TCD I used to frequently run into tours of the campus done in Hebrew for various Israeli groups. If you’re interested in such a group, I suggest contacting the Chief Rabbi’s office, and I bet he can put you in touch with the right people.

One of the funny things about being in Dublin was how often I heard people speaking Hebrew, and/or ran into obviously frum people on vacation there. Obviously, you can’t plan on this, but if you keep your ears open I guarantee you’ll hear some thick Israeli accents.

I found Irish people to feel a strange affection for Jews. When I was in Dublin people were always telling me that “the Irish are the Jews of Europe.” And then I always said, “Actually, the Jews are the Jews of Europe. But yes, we do share a past of persecution and great struggles.” Amazingly, the wonderful book about Ireland, Ireland and the Irish by John Ardagh begins by equating the Irish experience with the Jewish experience:

“Ireland has always been a special case. This green and beautiful island, with its talented, eloquent and wayward people, has frequently aroused strong feelings among foreigners—of romantic affection or plain exasperation. And the Irish themselves have always felt an exceptional patriotism. Like the Jews, they have a huge diaspora. And apart from the Jews there are few other people in the West with so strong a sense of their own identity, even uniqueness.”

Um, okay. Weird, but kind of awesome, right? Anyway, I know Ireland is a strange place to go to feel Jewish, but for some reason it really does work that way.

For further reading on what to do on a trip to Dublin check SomethingJewish’s Jewish Dublin site. The New York Times Magazine did a story on the Irish Jewish community a few years ago, and it’s worth a read. And if you’re feeling brave, try reading Ulysses, whose protagonist is identified as Jewish and takes place in Dublin.

Since Matthue has been blogging from the UK all week, and since I’ll be winging my way over on New Year’s Day I thought it might be a nice time to recommend some great Jewish travel tips for my two favorite places in England.

In London:
If you’re in London for a while and can spare a day just hanging out in Golder’s Green, that’s what you should do. Take the Northern Line to the Golders Green station, and just wander up and down Golders Green Rd and Finchley Rd. Corner Outside Golders Green Tube Station: a number of optionsThere are a bunch of kosher restaurants, Judaica shops and places of interest. I recommend Solly’s on Golders Green and Milk N Honey, just down the street. The best kosher bakery in London, in my not-so-humble-opinion, is Daniel's Bagel Bakery, on 12 Hallswelle Parade, Finchley. Also in Golders Green is a really beautiful Jewish cemetery (on Hoop Lane) just across from the Golders Green Crematorium. Kind of creepy, but an interesting and beautiful place nonetheless. Peter Sellers, Anna Pavlova, Bram Stoker, T S Eliot and Sigmund Freud were all laid to rest here, so it’s worth it to stop by.

Now that you’re all nourished and meditated and looking for some entertainment, hop back on the Tube and head over to Camden, where you can go to the Jewish Museum. The museum itself is wonderful, and they even do walking tours of various neighborhoods every once in a while, so check ahead and see if you can get signed up for one such tour.

Another fun sight is the Bevis Marks Synagogue, the oldest synagogue still in use in Britain, completed in 1701. Saced Destinations has a nice summary of the synagogue’s history, but it’s definitely worth a trip.

My favorite place to daven in London is Assif, a fun and funky egal minyan in Finchley. But if egal isn’t your thing, you’ve got plenty of other options.

Now, I highly recommend a day trip to Oxford. I’m partial, of course, but I definitely think it’s worth your time and money. If you book in advance you can take megabus for I quid each way. Awesome!

In Oxford:

Mainly I love Oxford because most of my favorite people in England are there, but it helps that they have the most amazing Jsoc (that's British for Hillel) ever. They have all kinds of events, from garden parties, to learning, to Shabbat meals, and the best shabbos zmirot I have ever heard. Jsoc meets at the Oxford Jewish Congregation, which is a gorgeous building with wonderful facilities for all kinds of activities, and every part of the community. OJC: Awesome davening, and cute boys with accents

I was never really into Oxford Chabad while I was there, but they have an amazing website that gives you instructions for a great Jewish walking tour of Oxford, including a lark through Christ Church Meadow and “Dead Man’s Walk,” the path of Jewish funeral processions. The Meadow is worth a trip even if you aren’t interested in any of the Jewish stuff. It’s gorgeous and huge.

Typically when I’m in Oxford I end the day with a certain British gentleman, which you probably can’t do, but you can wander around some of the other gorgeous colleges. I recommend Worcester which has its own lake, and Oriel, which is just pretty. Worcester College: in some rare sunshine

If you’re looking for more awesome Jewcy things to do in England, check out SomethingJewish and Jewdas.

Hello from Sunny Old England, where today's sky is grey, but bright grey, which might be the closest it's come to sunlight in, well, years. (Don't listen to me -- I just landed at 7:oo last night, 12 hours later than I was supposed to. We sat in the airport for practically forEVER -- which gave me a chance to meet Judith Hauptman, who has some pretty amazing ideas for getting twentysomethings involved in Jewish party life, I mean, holiday life....and really, there is such a fine line between the two).

Getting off the bus, they wouldn't give me my room key because there was a note that I had to see E.J. immediately. I'd just been in airports for 24 hours and Virgin Atlantic is nowhere near as space-age and spiffy as everyone says -- after a flight, you're still tired and gross. But I ran to meet her and to fight for my right to shower. A girl said she knew where E.J. was, and the led me through corridors and then through this door that spilled out right onto a stage. EJ was the MC. They were having the Opening Gala, and wanted to know if I'd perform.

 So -- tired, plane-dirty, and deprived of sleep for the past 24 hours, I ripped of my coat and my Doctor Who scarf and let loose a poem.

My actual show was an hour later. By that time, I'd managed to clean myself up, both body and language, and managed to meet some of the most amazing and insightful personalities that I'll tell you about in my next post, because afterwards we went to this concert that I need to tell you about now.

The amazing and rave-worthy mostly-Jewish-but-with-a-Palestinian-M.C.-and-a-kickass-violinist band Emunah played last night. Imagine a howling jungle beat with fat heavy bass and a Russian diva wailing Shlomo Carlebach melodies over it. A bunch of people took pictures, but I think they're all still too hung over to post them. This was the band's final show with their other M.C., a brilliant lyricist named Daniel Silverstein. "Five years of my life," he kept saying again and again after the show. (Honestly, I don't know how he could talk at *all* after that -- I really think he spoke faster than I can type on that last song, a drum&bass beat that sounded like a stopwatch being fast-forwarded.) He also said that he's leaving the band but he's never leaving music, and then alluded to the possibility that he might be moving to New York......!?!?!?!? People in New York -- if he does, you have to hunt him down and stand outside his house and listen to every word he says. It'll be worth it.

I'm not a sci-fi geek. But, almost a decade ago, I had a roommate that introduced me to the world of the cons. ComiCon, GenCon, something that seemed tailored for the renaissance fair, er, faire crowd, a couple of Star Trek cons and such. She and her boyfriend were sci-fi lovin', comic book readin', -Con attendin', role playin' folks. (It's not my bag, but rest assured, I'm not making fun. I'm all for people doing whatever they're into. Anyway.)

Even in a galaxy far, far away: You can still sorta-kinda keep Shabbes.During this time, it was explained to me that several of such -cons host wedding and religious services in theme of the event, and both admitted they'd only seem limited Jewish weddings or services in their travels, or at least always saw more activity from other religious groups, which always seemed odd to me, with so many comic superheroes having such good Jewish roots and with the Star Trek Dr. Spock "live long and prosper" hand gesture having a Jewcy base as well. Isaac Asimov? Harlan Ellison? David Brin? Mind you, that's only what I was told based on the events they attended. I never braved an event to verify any of their claims for myself.

About a month ago, Jewish Journal of Los Angeles ran a short piece that caught my attention and reminded me of these conversations with the roommate and her guy. LosCon, an annual weekend Sci-Fi invasion at the LAX Marriott had featured a Sci-Fi Catholic mass and a Sci-Fi pagan/wiccan circle and last year, thanks to uber-sci-fi-fan, Marsha Minsky, a minyan was added to the schedule of events, Beit LosCon. She's named herself "Rabbi of the Con", though she doesn't have a rabbinical ordination and her services, based on a conservative liturgy, brought about two dozen people of the thousand or so in attendance of LosCon.

Could one do a B'nai Mitzvah at a 'con? Has anyone?

I'd just like to eveyone to take a moment and imagine what a Sci-Fi or RenFaire Shabbat service might involve. And, if you've been to one, please tell us about it. I'm dying to know if it's tailored to the occasion. Discuss.

So, sometimes you find yourself someplace in the world without a clue as to what, if any, Jewish community is around you and once you're there, what are you going to do, walk around the street asking? Well, you might, stranger things have happened, of course. Or, you might not even think to look around some places for other MOTs, wrongly assuming we'd be nowhere in sight. However, in all my travels, I have been pleasantly surprised, again and again, to meet and befriend our peeps all over the place.

So, sort-of-regularly, I'm going to do some of the homework for you and focus on different Jewish communities here and there we don't often hear much about. Yes? Great. And to start things off, we're heading to Omaha to catch up with the 6,500-member community.

Omaha: A nice artsy, progressive, Jewy place to visit. Who knew?

Now, I visited Omaha a little over a year ago for the first time--the (Downtown) Omaha Lit Fest is a great time, by the by-- and decided I loved the place with its art and culture, like this wonderful progressive stronghold in the middle of, well, fields.

To travel deeper next time you find yourself in Nebraska, see who you can find of the Jewish community of Omaha-- touch base with The Jewish Federation of Omaha, swing by the Omaha JCC, hit this site that the Federation offers for answers to questions like, "Can you keep kosher in Omaha?" (yes), "Are there any Jewish Day Schools in Omaha?" (yes) and get the scoop on the choices of shuls in Omaha: Temple Israel (Reform-- and they have a gift and Judaica shop), Beth El (conservative-- and they have a gift and Judaica shop, too), Beth Israel (orthodox), a Chabad center (where just last month a challah-thon took place!) and Beyt Shalom (reconstructionist). Then, there's the Kripke Jewish Library, and since you're there, pay a nice little visit to the Rose Blumkin Jewish Home for the elderly (they have a mikveh you can use there, if you call, fyi) and to the Friedel Jewish Academy to meet b'nai Omaha.

Go get your shalom bayit on, wherever your travels take you.

 

 

So there’s this awesome thing called Jews in the Woods. Basically, it’s a shabbaton held way out in some rural location in the Northeast, and recently it’s been happening as often as three or four times a year, and even in Israel. Also known as Fruity Jews in the Woods or just Fruity Jews, the group is led by an informal contingent of mostly college students, and they’ve done all kinds of really cool and innovative things, though by far my favorite is their tri-chitzah, a mechitzah that separates the group into three sections so that people who want to have egalitarian davening can be accommodated, as can people who want separate seating. Pretty nifty, eh?

Jews in the Woods: at a lake JitW is completely non-denominational and not run by any overseeing organization like the Federation. Money comes from grants, though there isn’t much of it, and there’s no mission statement or agenda. Read an awesome Forward article about Jews in the Woods here, or visit their wikipedia page. The JitW website is not quite as helpful as you might want (though that’s by design, apparently) but here’s my favorite little blurb:

Jews in the Woods is a community. JITW is a laboratory for a vibrant, inclusive Judaism. JITW is a way for Jews of a younger generation to create a Jewish community that draws on the love and wisdom of Jewish tradition as well as the richness of contemporary American and world civilization. JITW is the first Jewish community I’ve found that is not built around the pain and fear of previous generations. With a commitment to respect and working things out, there is a joy present that is hard to find elsewhere. JITW is, for some folks, the only Jewish setting where they feel at home. And for others of us, it’s the Jewish setting where we feel most at home. JITW is a place where it is the norm to be Jewish and: Jewish and feminist; Jewish and queer; Jewish and pagan; Jewish and an anarchist; Orthodox and egalitarian; Jewish and vegetarian; Jewish and dating a non-Jew; Jewish and Buddhist. JITW is a Jewish community where geography is incidental. Moving across the state or even a few states away is irrelevant to membership, participation, and leadership. This is so valuable in an age when synagogue membership (and thus, connection to a particular form of Jewish community) is so geographically linked. - ilana s

If this sounds like the community for you then I encourage you to go to the JitW website and click on the making contact link.

Sadly, even though I’m totally in awe of all of the rockin’ pluralism and innovation going on there, I think I’m a little too straight-edge for JitW. I would pretty much rather poke my eye out with a rusty old menorah than put my arms around someone else and sway while singing Eliyahu HaNavi. But hey, if singing and swaying is your thing I give you a virtual high five and usher you towards JitW. Go and be Jewcy in the Woods!

There’s a really funny and interesting piece up over at SOMA about how important coffee is to Christian church-goers. The piece is called Praise the Lord and Pass the Caffeine. Here’s a nice little excerpt:
Coffee: is pretty Holy

My surreptitious life “in the closet” as a non-coffee drinker became more difficult to maintain in adulthood, however, when I discovered that my aversion to the holy bean was putting my spiritual life in jeopardy. The big question was not so much how can one live the Christian life as how can one live the Christian life without a cup of Joe each morning during devotions?

Yes, coffee hour is that sacred time when believers come together in fellowship and Folgers. More than once I was forced to drink a cup of non-dairy creamer so I would be accepted by my Christian friends. When it came to the integration of faith and caffeine, I was failing miserably.

Things got worse about five years ago when my family and I began attending the local mega-church, which has become our present church home. Each week as we move through the lobby and head for the sanctuary, I notice a crowd of people milling, cups in hand, under a large sign that says “Coffee Central.” As they sip their gourmet delights, my old feeling of social inadequacy returns. These are the cool people in the church. They are the members who control the house groups and the adult Sunday school classes.

The SOMA article links to a fascinating and bizarre Beliefnet piece also about the role of coffee in Churches.

It's hard to exaggerate the importance of coffee to American church life. Pulled apart by their views about salvation, biblical interpretation and social issues, nearly all Christians share a common dedication to the beany brew. In most mainline Protestant and Catholic churches, parishioners gather immediately after services in the parish hall or church basement for kaffeeklatsches that often bear modest names like "fellowship hour" or "community hour," (though an old Lutheran joke calls coffee hour the "third sacrament," after baptism and communion). Young evangelical Christians have taken coffee spirituality offsite. In the past decade, hundreds of coffeehouses have popped up across the country with names like "The Jesus Shack," "Holy Grounds," One Way Café," "Cup O' Joy," and "The Revelation Room."

So essential is coffee to churchgoing that when someone added arsenic to the coffee urn at Gustaf Adolph Lutheran Church in New Sweden, Maine this spring, killing the 78-year-old head usher and hospitalizing 15 others, parishioners drank coffee for the TV cameras the following Sunday to demonstrate that the hallowed tradition would persevere. Bishop Margaret Payne even showed up to take the symbolic first sip. "I just wanted to make it clear that this isn't a place where you have to be afraid of drinking coffee," she said on CBS News.

Full story
The Kiddush At My Shul: looks nothing like this.
As far as I can tell, in synagogues and temples it’s not so much coffee as it is Kiddush, where all the action takes place. If you don’t want to stay for kichel and shnapps, you don’t get to make friends, discuss the rabbi’s sermon, or chat up the cute new guy. I’m not usually a big fan of Kiddush food (institutional tuna creeps me out) but I’ve noticed that if I leave, I won’t ever get dinner or lunch invites, so I stay and pick at a brownie.

I’ve never thought of Kiddush as spiritual, but both articles point out that community bonding is a big and important part of spiritual life. Cool, and kind of weird.

I grew up davening in a minyan without a mechitza, and I pretty much didn’t experience a mechitza at all until I got to my modern Orthodox high school. After 14 years of attending services every week with my family, and davening every day at school, suddenly having a wooden screen between me and the pimply-faced skinny boys in my class just seemed totally stupid. I was not distracted by them. I cannot imagine that as a pimply faced overdeveloped girl I was much of a distraction to any of them, and it was in high school that I learned about what I have found to be the main and most problematic consequence of the mechitza: it just encourages people—especially women—to ignore the davening, and instead chat with their neighbors.

See No Evil: not the best policy ever
In case you were wondering why this is coming up today, it’s because Sukkot is supposedly the anniversary of the first mechitza. See, during the time of the Temple they’d have this huge party during the intermediate days of Sukkot. The party was called Simchat Beit HaShoevah (literally, the celebration of the water drawing house) and there was all manner of singing and dancing. "Whoever did not see the Simchat Beit Hashoeva," says the Mishna (Sukkah 51a), never saw true celebration in his life. The celebration was in honor of the water libations that were performed on sukkot, and the libations represented tbe rainy year that we hoped God would give us. Anyway, the parties were huge, and there was apparently some levity involved (I know, levity at a party—crazy!) and the rabbis decided that the best way to avoid this was to construct a special balcony for the women so they could watch without being involved and thus wouldn’t cause any levity. Snazzy, eh? And apparently the whole balcony concept stuck, they decided to just leave it up all year, and there you have it—the origins of the mechitza.

I’m going to stay away from a discussion about whether or not the rabbis should have just learned to control themselves, because it’s all in the past and who gives a fuck. My main point is this—if you stick the women in a place that seems to be a step or seven away from the action going on at shul, you have to expect that they’ll feel like they’re not involved, unnecessary, and would just as soon talk to their neighbors about Malka Mushka’s new sheitel, or whether or not the rabbi’s son is still dating that shiksa from Delaware.

And even if you don’t think it matters if women pray or not, you should care about how much talking goes on in the women’s section because sound does bleed over to the men’s section, and suddenly you can’t hear the Torah reading because of damn Malka Mushka and her sheitel.

I guess what I’m saying is, if you tell people that they need to be far away so as not to distract you, you can’t be surprised when they get distracted standing way off in the distance.

At one point on the first day of Rosh Hashana the talking at the Orthodox synagogue where I was davening pretty much drowned out the cantor’s voice. I switched seats a couple of times and ended up in the balcony, where the talking was still totally audible, but at least I didn’t feel tempted to give people dirty looks, which is neither effective nor in the spirit of starting fesh and being good. Even way up in the nosebleed section, though, I was bothered by all of the socializing that went on.
And I Was Like, "OMG, Malka!: I totally dig your new shaitel!"
Let me be clear: I am not exactly one hundred percent focused on the siddur on your average Shabbat service, let alone in a service that’s twice as long. Certainly I chat with my friends on occasion, and when I’m visiting my parents in Chicago I frequently ask my dad Jew-y questions during davening. There’s a pretty normal tide of talking that happens during any service, and I generally don’t find it bothersome. What I don’t get, though, are people who insist on using synagogues as exclusively social entities. Want to have a long conversation with your friend Betty about Tillie’s ugly baby? That’s why God invented Kiddush, people. But that discussion is not best accompanied by a shofar, or the dirges of Kol Nidre.

If you don’t want to come to shul, or if you just feel like putting in an appearance but you don’t buy any of this God crap, I think that’s fine. It’s your own business, and I don’t have the time or inclination to deal with it. But if you DO show up, the least you can do is try to refrain from ruining for the rest of us. Bring a book, for the love of God! Read US magazine for all I care, or have thumb wars with your sister, or make eyes at the cute guy around the room. Just please keep your commentary down to a low hum.

Interestingly, the siddur I use on Shabbat has a mi sheberach in it that’s meant to be said before returning the Torah to the ark, and it asks God to protect people who keep their mouths shut during davening. It’s kind of hilarious, and kind of brilliant.

If you won’t listen to me, maybe you’ll take it from SuperDavener! Below is an insane and ridiculous movie about not talking during davening made by prepubescent yeshiva boys. It features a superhero who wears boxers outside his pants, and his his tsitsit coming out the bottom of his boxers.

Last Shabbes two women (an elderly woman and her daughter) walked into a shul in Syracuse that a family I'm close to attends, and in the middle of the morning service, started heckling the rabbi, and a few moments later, launching into a full-on spew of anti-semitism, Mellypoo Gisbson-style, and then they started threatening to blow the place up, along with few other sites like, oh, the Dome of The Rock. Pretty lofty claims for a woman in her 70s to be making, no?
Step off, Hatahs: Magen David'll throw down (kindly and responsibly!) to defend his peeps!
When they (this family) told me just today about this, the first thing I thought was, "The women went into the shul? That doesn't make any sense. They came all the way to Syracuse from Georgia to talk shit? Who does that? Two women, one of them elderly, versus that huge congregation? Hello?" But, having personally experienced an attempted hate crime (I say "attempted" only because I was injured and not, say, killed, so I feel like I thwarted his plan) three years ago this fall, I know there isn't a ton of stability or logic or that "live-and-let-livedness" I'm so very fond of going on when it comes to bias-motivated actions.

As much as I wish building bridges and being a good person changes minds and notions, I know that's simply not true, unfortunately. There is little any of us can do to stop someone absolutely determined to commit an act of harm, really. Rabbi Sherman (who, btw, hilariously handles cell phones ringing mid-service better than any rabbi I've seen) told the Syracuse Post-Standard that the women initially seemed to be behaving normally, like the rest of the congregation, of course. They didn't bust in with signs, symbols and slogans and neon signs over their heads. Especially in such a large shul, not every face is familiar. And, I believe with all I have that it's important to go out of our way to make people feel welcome. There's no right answer here; we live with anti-semitism (and all sorts of other anti-) around us from time to time, we've all seen it on some level at some point, and usually our Jew-dar shrieks at us when something is wonky. Sometimes, but not always.

Last night, the local news report here reported Rosh HaShanah and Ramadan both getting underway and within four sentences, turned the program to security concerns. Oy.

So, this afternoon, I've been thinking about the best ways to strike a balance between welcoming new faces and building community while keeping our eyes open without (and this is key) without clouding our minds. It's probably, nay, totally impossible to be open and welcoming, scan the congregation for potential fanatics, make teshuva, enjoy time together, keep an eye on our kids/siblings/nieces and nephews/whatever, and listen to and trust our gut instincts without being judgmental. Impossible. There's no way. I don't know what the answer is; I don't know where the balance is. But, we are a people of wrestling with information and decisions, so it's something to roll around.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T: Or, the Golem will be dispatched, yo.
Many shuls have enlisted the help of extra security, which I think is the right move. Most places have security all year (mine does), which is also not a bad idea. And, oy, let me ask you something-- What is your shul's regular security guard's name? I'm embarrassed to admit, I don't know mine. Such a nice man, I chat with him as I come and go, but I've never once stopped and asked his name. Not very community-building of me, is it?

So, before we dash off the shul tonight and tomorrow, here's just a little something to think of. It's a pain in the ass to wait through security lines at shul, it's weird to have a stranger digging through your purse, it seems weird to have to deal with that before walking in, but let's all try to think less about the inconvenience and give a smile and a "thank you" to the (often under-appreciated) security guards in our synagogues at this time of year. Hokey, maybe, but thanks go a long way. And maybe if your shul employs year-round security a little introduction is a nice gesture of respect, of just plan decency that might be something to consider.

Sure, knowing a name isn't going to stop the unthinkable from happening, but it's a tiny stitch in looking after each other, and a very big part of being kind-hearted. So, yeah, maybe deep-down I can't help but think that positivity and living mindfully and kindly will win out in the end. Maybe so. And, maybe, there is also a balance to be found between being smart in a dangerous world and not letting threats derail us, or cause us to hid or dilute the things meaningful to us out of fear.

Wishing everyone a Jewcy, safe, fun and meaningful time in the coming days.

L'Shanah Tovah.

Can I Get an Amen: Rabbi Sally J. PriesandAt the beginning of the summer, I met with a group of women from my temple to watch and discuss the award-winning documentary, And the Gates Opened: Women in the Rabbinate. The film chronicles the history of womens' struggle for the right to be ordained as rabbis. It features the personal stories of the first three women ordained: Rabbi Sally Priesand, Rabbi Sandy Eisenberg-Sasso, and Rabbi Amy Eilberg, of the Reform, Reconstructionist and Conservative Movements respectively. Until seeing And the Gates Opened, I had largely taken women in the rabbinate for granted. My own parents were married by Rabbi Sandy Eisenberg-Sasso in 1974, and although the Rabbi who officiated at my Bat Mitzvah was a man, when we switched synagogues shortly thereafter, we joined a temple with a female Associate Rabbi who is vibrant, vocal, and involved.

For me, female Rabbis are as essential to my spiritual wellbeing as female gynecologists are to my physical wellbeing. True, I could survive without them, but certainly not as richly or comfortably.

Nearly 1,000 women had been ordained as Rabbis at the time of Rabbi Sally Priesand's retirement last summer.

Here are three of my favorites:

Torah the Explorer: Rabbi Jamie Korngold AKA The Adventure RabbiRabbi Jamie Korngold, AKA "The Adventure Rabbi", (Reform)

Rabbi Jamie Korngold is earthy. So earthy, in fact, that she's taken her whole dang congregation outdoors. Based in Boulder, Colorado (but always on the move) she utilizes camping trips, retreats, hiking, biking, skiing, snowshoeing, and any other outdoor activities she can come up with to bring people closer to nature and, consequently, to God. Having worked previously as an EMT and an Outward Bound Guide, it's safe to say that her congregants are in good hands. She's currently writing a book about the spiritual opportunities we've missed by moving religion indoors. From her MySpace page (Yeah. MySpace):

"Rabbi Jamie S. Korngold has experienced her most vibrant Jewish experiences in the outdoors. From scaling mountains to praying beneath the boughs of an apple tree in the backyard, she believes that the spirituality of the wilderness awakens Judaism. Surrounded by the raw wonder of creation, Rabbi Korngold helps people experience an inner peace and an abiding connection to That Which is Greater Than Ourselves. In the wilderness, she believes, it is possible to distance ourselves from politics and protocol and allow the awareness of the connectedness of all things to permeate our souls. Come join us; let the wilderness awaken your Judaism."

Rabbi Sharon Brous, (Ordained Conservative, Ikar Unaffiliated)

Laying Down Roots: Rabbi Sharon BrousWunderkind Rabbi Sharon Brous is the founding Rabbi of Ikar, the hugely popular, fast-growing Los Angeles Jewish community that brings together intellectual and spiritual development, and political and social activism. She has a serious knack for making Judaism accessible, and believes that there is no authentic religious life without a deep sense of responsibility in the world. Rabbi Brous is involved with both Reboot, a network of Jewish trend-setters, thinkers and activists, and Synagogue 3000, a national, not-for-profit institute dedicated to revitalizing and re-energizing synagogue life in North America. Ikar's stated mission:

"Our mission is to bring together a diverse and dynamic mix of Jews to study, pray, and work toward social change in a community of purpose, integrity and spirit. Through awakening a desire for meaningful and challenging Jewish experiences and community, we are also working to energize and catalyze change in the broader Jewish community and in the world."

Rabbi Naomi Levy (Ordained Conservative, Nashuva Unaffiliated)

We Will Return: Rabbi Naomi LevyAuthor of the bestselling book To Begin Again, and founder and spiritual leader of Nashuva, a groundbreaking Jewish outreach organization based in Los Angeles, Levy was the first Conservative female rabbi to head a pulpit on the West Coast. Through Nashuva, Rabbi Levy has been involved in drawing hundreds of unaffiliated Jews back to a Judaism that is soulful, committed to social justice, meaningful, relevant and fun. From the Nashuva site:

"We all have a need to return—to passion, to our dreams, to our essential goodness, to love, to our own souls, to our God. We spend so much time trying to succeed or to simply manage the chaos in our lives, that we rarely make the time to reflect and uncover our true possibility. Our souls are hungry for more. Nashuva is a haven from the hectic lives we lead. A place where we can leave behind our worries, receive the spiritual infusion we have been looking for, and emerge transformed. Nashuva is a time to pray, to sing, to be still and listen to the voice of your soul.

But the goal of prayer isn’t only personal peace. At Nashuva we believe that prayer leads us to action. It reminds us that we are here to heal this broken world. Nashuva is a service that leads to service. On the first Friday of each month we pray together, on the third Sunday of each month we serve together to bring light to some dark corner of our city."

What awesome women rabbis are on your radar?

The New York Times has a nice long story about the new Reform siddur coming out soon. It’s called Mishkan T’filah, and it sounds pretty cool:
Synagogue Libraries: trust me, there's something good in here.

Unlike the Reform movement’s last prayer book, “Gates of Prayer,” which was published in 1975, the new prayer book has a Hebrew title, “Mishkan T’filah” (which means a sanctuary or dwelling place for prayer). And it reads from back to front, like a traditional Hebrew text, which was only an optional format when “Gates of Prayer” was published. Rabbi Frishman thought up the innovative layout for the new prayer book, or siddur.

There are four versions of each prayer laid out on a typical two-page spread. (Since the book is read back to front, the right page is read before the left one). On the right page is the prayer in Hebrew, the transliteration of the Hebrew prayer into phonetical English, and a more literal translation. On the left-hand page is a more poetic translation of the prayer, followed by a metaphorical or meditative passage reflecting on the prayer, sometimes by a well-known writer like Langston Hughes or Yehuda Amichai.

Rabbis who prefer to lead a more traditional service can choose a prayer from the right-hand side of the page, while those who prefer a more alternative approach can choose from the left side.

“This is a way of having the best of both worlds,” said Rabbi Peter S. Knobel, president of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, the association of Reform rabbis, which is publishing the book. “You have the possibility of doing, if you want, an entire service in Hebrew, as traditional as you can be within the Reform movement. At the same time, you can do something extremely creative.”

Full Story

I really do think this sounds great, but I have to say that I’m generally unmoved by creative services, and I think it’s because they feel like too much of a novelty, or a show. I don’t want a million things to choose from when I’m praying, and neither do I want an organ or interpretive dance. It’s not really because I’m so frum that I can‘t deal with these concepts, I just think they end up combining to make a really frenetic prayer experience, and to me that’s the antithesis of what prayer is supposed to be about.

If you’re over or underwhelmed by your siddur, here’s my suggestion—visit your synagogue’s library and snag something from there to read during services. Even though most synagogues’ libraries haven’t been seriously updated since the Carter administration, you can still find some interesting old novels, poetry or biographies to keep you occupied during davening. When I was 12 I read a steamy romance novel that I got from my shul’s library. I wouldn’t exactly call browsing the shul library praying, but it’s a nice way of staying engaged with Jewish text without having to wade through translations approved by HUC in the 1890s.

I have always been a shul-goer. On Shabbat I get completely thrown off if I don’t make it to services. It’s an integral part of my weekly routine, and it frustrates me to have it disrupted. That said, I am not a fan of synagogues, Temples or shuls.

For one thing, too often they’re huge and anonymous, the rabbi is far away from me and boring, and the cantor is ridiculously showy. Also, though I have no proof to back this up, I get the impression that the population at most synagogues is aging. I rarely see young singles or couples, especially not at those massive 1000 family congregations. What I do see a lot of is really bad decorating, uncomfortable chairs, and those awful silk kippot.

So why are synagogues so tacky and uninviting? And what’s the alternative?
Does Stained Glass Put You To Sleep?: There *are* alternatives!
I think a lot of synagogues and Temples grew out of themselves, and are still adjusting to such mammoth proportions. People are also using synagogues less and less, generally only stopping in for life cycle events, and whatnot. Many synagogues, especially in suburban well-to-do areas, seem to have become just another venue to keep up with the Jones’. While the insides are fancy, they’re too massive and overly air conditioned to give any a sense of a warm and welcoming community.

There are a few alternatives, I think. First of all, I’m a huge fan of the indie minyan, a la Hadar, the DC Minyan, Chicago’s Egal Minyan, and the Library Minyan. Those are non-synagogue services that will give you your spirituality fix without a choir, or 400 people milling around the bat mitzvah girl at Kiddush.

But if services aren’t your thing, consider making a weekly volunteer commitment on Monday morning. You can search for volunteer opportunities near you at Volunteermatch.org. Serving at a soup kitchen, helping out at a homeless shelter, or sitting with patients at a hospital are great ways of connecting with your spirituality without having to submit to the awkwardness of a Kiddush luncheon where you don’t know anyone. If you already have volunteering as part of your schedule, Saturday morning might be a good time to work out, take a run, or do some yoga. Or maybe you hate synagogues but are interested in Jewish learning. I highly recommend you get yourself a chevruta (a study partner) and discuss what you’re interested in learning. You may want to poke around on MyJewishLearning where they have lots of good trigger articles and will point you towards all kinds of good books and other helpful resources. Or if you’re more of a Jewish culture person, tune in to Nextbook’s amazing podcast, and start buying (or borrowing from the library) the books they recommend. Sarah Ivry, the voice of the podcast, is awesome and has never directed me to a book I didn’t love.

The point is, hating shul doesn’t mean you can’t do something Jewish on Shabbat, and it certainly doesn’t make you a bad Jew. But thankfully synagogues aren’t the only places to go to get a spiritual pick me up

Mechon Hadar and the S3K Synagogue Studies Institute are sponsoring a survey to find out more about the participants, members, partners, and "acquaintances" of indie minyanim and other new alternative Jewish spiritual communities around the country. The end results of this work will be a portrait of the interests, values, and concerns of not only your local community, but indeed of a critical innovative turn in American Judaism. Steven M. Cohen, a prominent sociologist, will be analyzing the data from the survey. It’s a painless and relatively quick way to help indie minyans and other alternative Jewish communities find out who they really are, and who they can be. Head over to http://www.communitysurvey.info to complete the survey. Your answers are confidential.
Indie Minyans: Rock the Shacharit
If you have any questions, please write to Kehilat Hadar at info[at]mechonhadar[dot]org or directly to Steven M. Cohen at
smcjewishresearch[at]gmail[dot]com.

On Friday I blogged about a lot of the holes in a contemporary Jewish day school education, and one of the major gaps involved general lack of knowledge about Jews that aren’t Ashkenazi. That is, Jews who are not of Eastern European descent. In the US the vast majority of day schools and Jewish community organizations are run with the assumption that pretty much everyone involved is Ashkenazi, and this isn’t a completely farfetched assumption. In the US, non-Ashkenaz Jews are the minority, but not by as wide of a margin as programming and organizations would lead one to assume. The States are home to small enclaves of Jewish communities with origins all over the world, including India, Egypt, Tunisia, Morocco, Syria, Yemen, Iraq, Iran, India, China, and Afghanistan. These communities are often lumped together with Sephardic Jews (literally, Spanish Jews, or Jews from Western Europe) even though their customs and communities are quite different. Jews from Middle Eastern countries like Yemen, Iraq and Iran are most accurately identified as Edot HaMizrach, or Tribes of the East, because they’re generally thought to be remnants of the community that was exiled from Israel is 587 BCE to Babylonia. When the Second Temple was built many Jews returned to Israel, but even more stayed put, and the Babylonian community and its offshoots became what we now call Edot HaMizrach.
Exotic Jews: Are hot
I have a crush on all of the Edot HaMizrach because they’ve done the best job of preserving customs from Talmudic times. Everything from having kids give Aramaic translations to the Torah as it’s being read on Shabbat (a practice originated thousands of years ago, and contemporarily being reinstated via Storahtelling) to speaking Hebrew in a way that distinguishes between letters that are pronounced exactly the same way by Ashkenazi Jews. They also have amazing cuisine, and many cute olive-skinned Jewish boys.

Perhaps the most important thing to remember about Edot HaMizrach is that they weren’t victims of the Holocaust since most of them live much farther East than Hitler ever ventured. This doesn’t mean, though, that they didn’t suffer all kinds of cruelty, discrimination, and pain at the hands of the governments where they lived. There were pogroms and serious problems of anti-Semitism in the Middle East long before the Nazis came to power. Unfortunately the Holocaust has mostly drowned out any communal memories of these problems to the extent that many people don’t even know they existed. Tension relating to this problem, and a more general sense of discrimination against Sephardic and Mizrachi Jews is still potent in Israel today. For one thing, Mizrachim tend to look like Arabs, and so are searched more often by security in Israel, which, as one might expect, is rather unpleasant.

A few other cool things about Edot HaMizrach: each community has its own traditions regarding cantillation of the Torah, more commonly known as trope. Mizrachi weddings are notoriously awesome, especially since they’re preceded by a henna ceremony, which is a really cool and weirdly erotic pre-wedding ritual. See pictures here. And finally, there are some Mizrachi Jews who speak Judeo-Aramaic, a modern Jewish dialect of the language used in the Talmud, and parts of Tanach. I imagine I’m one of about three girls in the world who think Judeo-Aramaic is among the coolest things in the world, but it’s kind of the family business, so I’m allowed this luxury.

Anyway, there’s clearly lots to be taught about Edot HaMizrach, and it’s not getting taught in day schools or Sunday schools. Next time you have the opportunity to lead or teach something in your community, think about adding a Mizrachi custom, song, or food. Kugel is like, so last season.