Shas warns against assimilation – in Israel.

If one lives in the Jewish State, carries a state-issued ID that identifies one as “Jewish,” and keeps the customs of the Jewish people, one might be forgiven for thinking that assimilation is not much of a threat. If, however, one is to believe the election campaign of Shas, Israel’s Sephardi ultra-Orthodox party, one would be mistaken.

In a series of ads intended to send the message that voting for Shas is the only way to temper all that’s wrong with the party widely expected to win the upcoming elections—Netanyahu and Lieberman’s Likud Beitenu—Shas sets itself up as both coalition partner and savior: “Only a strong Shas will take care of the weak,” reads one ad, alongside a picture of Netanyahu. Alongside a picture of Lieberman wearing, rather startlingly, given his antipathy towards the religious parties, a black kippa, we read: “Only a strong Shas will prevent assimilation.”

shas assimilation

“Assimilation.” Not even—I don’t know—“a watering down of the faith,” but: “Assimilation.” If you are not Jewish like Shas is Jewish, you are in danger of assimilating—even if you live in the Jewish State, carry a Jewish ID, and keep Jewish customs.

Because you see, there is only one right way to be Jewish. And ultra-Orthodox kingmakers have been given free reign on Israel’s domestic scene for 64 years to determine what that is. (Which is why, among other things, the only way for a Jew to get married or buried in the Jewish State is with an ultra-Orthodox rabbi, following ultra-Orthodox custom, your own beliefs be damned.)

This sad truth was given full expression last week when Emily Wolfson and Rhiannon Humphreys, young Jewish women from Great Britain, had the temerity to try to daven at the Western Wall in the custom in which they have been raised: Wrapped in a tallit.

Last Friday, the women—both 18 and participants in RSY-Netzer’s Shnat gap year program—were detained for several hours by Israel Police after wrapping themselves in tallitot, or prayer shawls, at the Western Wall. The women were taking part in a monthly service organized by the group Women of the Wall.

… Wolfson said she wore the tallit that her grandfather presented to her at her bat mitzvah.

You can see why wearing a tallit presented to one by one’s grandfather might signal assimilation. But don’t worry! The ultra-Orthodox in Israel’s political system are doing all they can to protect us from that scourge:  “Under a new decree by religious authorities, women cannot enter the Western Wall plaza with Jewish ritual objects.”

Shas wants to make sure Israeli voters know: they are here to protect Israel from that sort of calamity. Otherwise, Israeli Jews might assimilate—into something that looks very much like American Jews.

Crossposted from Open Zion/The Daily Beast.

About that Jew-finding app…

Dear American Jews,

I know we’re worried about assimilation. I know it can be hard to find fellow members of the tribe who like long walks on the beach and headbanging to classic Beastie Boys. I understand the limitations of minority life and the imperative of “l’dor ve’dor”—“from generation unto generation.”

But please. Let’s not be reduced to this:

App finds you a Jew

Yenta, a new iPhone application that connects Jewish singles based on their location, debuted about a month ago, the latest in niche matchmaking.

Somewhat similar to the gay application Grindr [note: an app generally described by users in rather graphic sexual terms], the free mobile dating service uses GPS technology to allow users to peruse the profiles of nearby Jews.

…“You can walk into a coffee shop and you can find out who’s Jewish and single around you,” said creator Luba Tolkachyov.

Am I the only one totally creeped out by this? The only one whose very first reaction to technology that literally uncovers Jews in your immediate vicinity was to think about where I could hide them if need be?

I have two kids, and please God, they should enter the Torah, the chuppa (gay or straight, I don’t care), and good deeds. I genuinely—really and truly—want my kids to marry Jews and even (in the fullness of time, and only if they want to!) bring me Jewish grandbabies. They’re both too young to date yet, but not too young for me to start dreaming.

But the idea of them finding partners (for whatever…) via what amounts to (IMHO) a stalking app…? She’lo neda me’tsarot—we shouldn’t know from such troubles!

Aside from anything else, can you imagine the conversation?

“Hi, my phone tells me you’re Jewish! Is anyone sitting here?”

Let’s just, I don’t know, build some more Gaga pits and maybe host another Kiddush or two, instead. Ask my friends—I’m good for the kugel.

Crossposted from Open Zion/The Daily Beast.

And there was bloggingheads!

Oh and hey, the other day I did the bloggingheads with Sarah Posner again! And I keep not having time to post the video!

And I don’t have time right now, either, at least not the time I need to re-figure out how to embed, because it’s all complicated n’ stuff on free WordPress platforms. So, for the time being, here’s a link to the whole thing; and here’s a link to a much shorter bit (watch me not say the word “balls”!).

Hopefully I’ll get a clip up at some point in the next few days, but who can tell?

Strangers in a strange land.

Eritrean refugees on Israel’s border.

After a week of living beneath scraps of fabric on a scrap of land between two metal fences, hoping to be given asylum in a country established by refugees, 21 Eritrean refugees have gotten their answer from the Jewish State:

Israel has granted entry to two Eritrean women and a 14-year-old boy who were stuck on the Israel-Egypt border for eight days. The remaining 18 men were ordered to return to Egypt. The three Eritreans who were granted entry into Israel were immediately transferred to the Saharonim detention facility.

Lest we be tempted to believe that the decision to allow in three of these poor souls is an act deserving of praise, however,

Israeli experts on international law warn that stopping asylum seekers from entering the country and making their claim for asylum is a breach of binding treaties to which Israel is a signatory.

Moreover, according to William Tall, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees in Israel,

The most worrying thing to me is the discussion of pushing them back into Egypt, which is highly irresponsible, because if they go back to Egypt there is a high risk these people will fall in the hands of human smugglers, and it is well known, it is all documented, that many of these people have been abused, there are cases of torture or rape, and if you send them back you are sending them to a situation with a very high degree of insecurity.

Furthermore, while the refugees were awaiting this extraordinarily hard-hearted response from Israel’s authorities, those same authorities instructed the soldiers standing guard over them to provide the Eritreans with as little water as possible. The soldiers also acted to prevent human rights activists from bringing them food, and doctors from examining them. One of the women in question is reported to have miscarried over the course of the week.

Why didn’t the refugees give up and leave? Well, as my colleague Raphael Magarikwrote yesterday, refugees from Eritrea are often so desperate that

they will jump off trucks, to their deaths, rather than face repatriation….[and] Eritreans who go back report imprisonment, torture, and abuse. That’s why the United States, Canada, and Western Europe don’t deport Eritreans.

Indeed, according to +972 magazine, fully 93% of Eritreans seeking asylum elsewhere are granted official refugee status.

So, in short: Israel’s decision to ignore international treaties in order to send three people to a detention center and 18 to the gentle mercies of human traffickers and/or a government happy to whip them is hardly a grand compromise.

It’s more along the lines of a shanda—and forget fur die goyim. This is a shame for the Jews. To the extent that we identify with and support the Jewish state, to the extent that we choose to share in the collective experience of Jewish peoplehood, the treatment these human beings have received at Jewish hands should shame us to our very core.

There is simply no excuse for this. None. Not security, not the logic of borders, not the fact of laws recently passed. Nothing.

One more quote:

[The LORD] upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing him with food and clothing. You too must befriend the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. Deut 10:18-19

If we can sit idly by as the Jewish State behaves in this fashion, I’m forced to ask: What, exactly, do we want the words “Jewish state” to mean?

Crossposted from Open Zion/The Daily Beast.

Reform and Conservative Jews = “Haters of the Lord.” FYI.

My latest at Open Zion/The Daily Beast:

The notion of ahavat yisrael, “love for the Jewish people,” is lovely, but let’s be frank: As a people, we Jews haven’t all loved each other since roughly the Golden Calf.

We’re a people like any other. We split along ideological lines, family lines, class lines—witness the anger emanating from Israel’s ultra-Orthodox over the possibility of state recognition for a small number of non-Orthodox rabbis, or the mere vision of women praying in public (or even riding the bus with men).

And you know what? That’s cool—I don’t much like ultra-Orthodoxy either. I have a lot of very powerful opinions about how that community interprets Scripture and what those interpretations ultimately mean for many of their number. I don’t need them to like me and mine, and I certainly don’t need their approval to know that I’m a good Jew.

What’s not cool, however, is that unlike any other Jews, Israel’s ultra-Orthodox actually have the power to legislate and enforce their value judgments. The problem isn’t the Jewish people’s fissures, or the opprobrium of one side for another—the problem is that in the Jewish state, one very narrowly defined community of Jews is paid out of state coffers to lord their version of Judaism over everyone else.

For instance: Israeli ultra-Orthodox Rabbi Shlomo Amar is sufficiently rude and ignorant to have recently written the following about Reform and Conservative Jews:

…to read the rest and get to the “haters of the Lord” part, you’ll just have to click here

A letter from an American-Israeli Jew to American-American Jews.

Dahlia Scheindlin is a terrific, American-Israeli public opinion analyst based in Tel Aviv who I saw speak at last year’s J Street conference. She was cogent and engaging and willing to tell the truth, to a room full of doe-eyed peace-seekers, about the Israeli public’s opinions about peace negotiations (which are not always as positive as we would wish, btw — they want a two-state peace, they just don’t want to trust the Palestinians to negotiate for it) (though she might put it differently. With, like, numbers, and such).

She also writes, and really well, for the genuinely peerless +972 online magazine (peerless, in that it is an outstanding source, and in that I don’t know that it has anything remotely like a peer in Israeli media).

The other day she posted what can only be called a cri de coeur, a cry from the heart appealing to her American Jewish family (in both the narrow and broad senses) to not betray Israel by betraying their liberal values:

All these years, you supported Israel, because as a Jew you felt connected to the state culturally, spiritually, religiously, nationally, because of the history of persecution, or just because that’s what Jews did. You defended its existence for so long against formidable enemies.

But now, regardless of the enemy, Israel has crossed your political and social red lines.  You can no longer ignore the daily violations of human rights and general freedom denied to millions of Palestinians, the humiliations, the imprisonment, beatings, midnight arrests, lack of due process, circus military tribunals for children, killings, coerced confessions, let alone racist legislation and fundamentalist religious coercion and other things you would never, ever stand for as liberals in the United States….

[Yet] because of your fear – not of the goyim or the anti-Semites, but of yourselves! – you are keeping a low public profile….

I do understand: those of you who still call the Jewish community home, are afraid of the onslaught that you will receive from your (our) very own people. I hold no illusions about how vicious the attacks might be. We Jews, not the goyim, will call you the most painful names, will threaten in various ways to label you as beyond the pale of your people, should you voice your critique. You might be chastised in your professional community. You will be hit not only by shadowy bloggers but by the very cherished and established groups you have loyally, even automatically, supported over the years. The anger might come from your friends and it might even come from your family.

But you are my family, too! You used to argue that I was too naïve and too idealistic. On this trip, I was stunned to learn that now you don’t even really want to visit Israel because you can’t face what you’re increasingly coming to see as a brutal occupying entity flirting with fascist notions….

Here’s how that made me feel: abandoned, by the liberal Jews of America.

Click here to read the whole thing: Dear liberal American Jews: Please don’t betray Israel.

And really: If you’re interested in Israel, Israeli society, the conflict, politics, the whole nine yards, you really should read +972 (they’re also on Twitter: @972mag)

In which I blaspheme: Monotheism’s biggest failure.

Ok, that’s kind of a grand statement. Maybe I shouldn’t claim to have uncovered the single biggest failure of the world’s monotheistic faiths. But for my money, it’s certainly right up there.

As readers of this blog are surely aware, I believe in God.

I furthermore believe that God is loving and good, and that when we say that we’re made in His* image, we mean the best of us. “Our better angels” are, to my mind, those parts of the human spirit that fly up to meet their Creator and attempt to express His love, His goodness, on this earth.

I also believe, in what I take to be a very Jewish sense, that God is everywhere and yet nowhere. We are not God, but reflections of Him. He can be found in our homes and in our hearts, but He is neither in the heavens nor in the depths. He is not corporeal, and when we speak of His arms, or His voice, we are only making use of the only tools we have to imagine the unimaginable — yet should I call upon Him, His is the still, small voice that is as near as my child’s breath, as she whispers in my ear.

God is ultimately unknowable, because He is so entirely Not Us. Bigger, Grander, More Powerful beyond measure — how can it be otherwise, when He created the world and all that’s in it? And yes, I believe that the Big Bang was an act of God, and I honestly cannot understand how the one could possibly contradict the other.

What is God not, then? Where did monotheism get it wrong?

On the “perfect” part.

I don’t believe God is perfect. I don’t believe God is all-powerful, and I suspect that He is not all-knowing. I cannot, and continue to believe that He is loving.

There is too much broken and wrong in this world, too much pain and too much horror, for me to believe that our Creator has the power to fix it, and yet chooses not to.

But that’s what the world’s three biggest monotheistic faiths would have us believe. We try to explain it away — in Judaism, many say that God does only good, we just don’t always recognize it as such; some say that we call down upon ourselves the world’s horrors with our behavior — but I think that most believers choose not to think about it too much, because if we do, the whole thing shatters at the feet of a starving or murdered child.

The failure, then, is not simply in getting something so crucial so badly wrong — it’s in creating a system that demands that God’s creatures find a way to believe something truly terrible. Perhaps if we posit a Satan (in which I do not believe, but for the sake of argument, let’s go ahead and posit) we can lay the world’s woes at Satan’s feet — but then we’re positing a genuine rival to God. We’re saying that there’s someone else out there, as powerful or nearly-as powerful as God, whom God is unable to defeat. Because if God is loving and can save us from Satan’s evil hands — why the long game? Why not just be done with it?

It’s  my experience that when people in the West reject God, they’re more often than not (not always, of course, but pretty often) rejecting organized religion, and more to the point, organized Western religion’s vision of a God who is all-powerful, and yet isn’t overly concerned with starving, bloodied children.

So here’s our choice: God – all powerful, perfect and all knowing? Or loving?

I’m sticking with loving.

(And to those who would argue that I’m going pretty far out on several limbs simultaneously, I can only say: Why do you think they call it “faith”?)

*****

*I’m comfortable with the English-language cultural convention of referring to the Divine in the male singular, but I don’t for a minute think that S/He/It is actually anything like any human. 

Who is Israel to tell you that you’re not a good enough Jew?

For information on these good American Jews: http://www.loeb-tourovisitorscenter.org/jll_jews.shtml

In the privacy of my own head, I am often very much at odds with Jeffrey Goldberg (whose book, Prisoners, I reviewed once upon a time and would still recommend) — but he got this one absolutely right: Netanyahu Government Suggests Israelis Avoid Marrying American Jews.

Looking at a series of PSAs produced by the Israeli government to encourage Israelis not to get stuck in America [how else to put it?], Goldberg writes: “I don’t think I have ever seen a demonstration of Israeli contempt for American Jews as obvious as these ads…. The message is: Dear American Jews, thank you for lobbying for American defense aid (and what a great show you put on at the AIPAC convention every year!) but, please, stay away from our sons and daughters.”

Exactly. But it goes well beyond this series of ads, and can be found at every level of the Israeli-Diaspora relationship — it infuriates me, and I’ve said as much before, so now I’m saying it again (with a few edits):

Bad Jews.

If I am nothing else on this earth, I am a Jew.

If ever I doubt that, I have only to observe my reaction to, oh, say, finding a vat of pulled pork on my porch (it was a block party!) or consider the goosebumps that unfailingly prickle every time the Torah is returned to the ark and my congregation starts to sing: “Torati al ta’azovu – etz chaim he…” (“Don’t abandon my Torah – it is a tree of life…”).

I’m a Jew.

And if I’m any kind of Jew, I’m an Israeli Jew. Israel is where I became Jewish, after all, having been born an American Protestant of some sort of vaguely Presbyterian lineage. I went through a spiritual whoops-di-doo, discovered where I was meant to be (where I was, the rabbis would say, all along), and joined my life to that of my people.

My conversion doesn’t come up a lot because it doesn’t mean very much to me. I’m not a convert – I’m a Jew. I’m not a Jew-by-choice – I’m a Jew. I’m not a former Christian – I’m a Jew. When God presented the Israelites with the Torah at Mt. Sinai, and the souls of all Jews past and present were there to hear and receive it, mine was in the crowd. So we’re taught, and so I believe.

So there I am in Israel, I discover that I’m really a Jew, I become one, and there it is. Done.

Or so I thought.

It never occurred to me that I might one day find myself living in the galut (exile). It never occurred to me that American Jews would find my conversion of material interest (Israeli Jews — or: the kind I hang out with — mostly don’t). It never occurred to me that in becoming a Jew in Israel, I learned some very specific ways to be Jewish that don’t apply in the galut. And it really never occurred to me that there might be anything wrong with Israelis’ powerful sense of superiority about the way that they are Jews — and it never occurred to me that there might be something wrong with American Jews agreeing with them.

And yet. Here I am. And the longer I live here in the galut, the more of an American Jew I become — and the more pissed off I get at the Israelis.

There is a sense — a nonsense, really — that Israelis are better Jews. That they, by-definition, know what they’re doing better than the Jews who don’t live their lives in Hebrew.

Israeli Jews are often greeted by their American brothers and sisters with an odd kind of reverence, deference even, both of which my husband and I experienced when we arrived on these shores. This is true even if (and this is the especially odd part) the Israelis in question are not in the least observant. I’ve been told (to my face) that some people in my shul are willing to accept that I can’t be all bad, despite my politics, because my husband is Israeli-born.

Do they know that he’s an atheist? That he’s to the left of me politically? That if the kids hadn’t been there, he would have dived into that pulled pork and not come up for air?

And now, dear reader, I come to my point.

Not only do Israeli Jews, as a rule, behave as if they know better than their Diaspora counterparts, not only do American Jews, as a rule, accept this as a given — but the Israeli government itself is complicit in furthering this series of assumptions, and regularly acts to codify them into law.

Most American Jews are Reform, secular, atheist, Reconstructionist, Conservative — in short: anything but Orthodox. And yet everything about the Israeli handling of religious issues within Israel’s borders is predicated on the assumption that there is but one way to be a Jew, and that is Orthodox. My Conservative wedding? Unacceptable. My friend’s Conservative conversion? Unacceptable. Burial in anything but an Orthodox fashion? Literally impossible (unless you take the body to a friendly kibbutz).

This fact has angered me since before my (Orthodox) conversion, and the years haven’t moderated that anger one iota. It’s simply wrong to dictate to the citizens of a democratic state how they may or may not conduct matters of faith, who they may or may not marry, who (in short) they are. You may think you’re a Jew, they seem to say, but you’re no Jew. And I have a law passed by the legislative body paid for by your taxes to back me up.

Fuel to the fire: These same people? This Israeli government so anxious to hand me and mine over to the tender mercies of the Orthodox rabbinate — the ultra-Orthodox rabbinate, peopled by men who follow dress-codes set in 16th century Poland — this bunch of secular, nationalist, opportunistic politicians for whom matters of faith matter not in the least? These people?

They are the very same people who tell American Jews — over and over ad infinitum – that they had best be all about official Israeli policy regarding the conflict. They had best be all about the occupation and the settlements and the constant war-footing and the refusal to accept any responsibility for the results of the refusal to actually resolve the conflict.

Indeed, American Jews must not only be mentally and emotionally behind all of this — they must also send their money east to support it, and dog their Senators and Representatives to do likewise.

Else they are very bad Jews indeed.

To summarize: The Jewish State is happy to take American Jews’ money and shame us into creating political pressure to support endless war — but our prayers?

Ashes.

The ads about which Jeffery Goldberg wrote are up on YouTube (click here for one entirely in English - it suggests American Jews are comically ignorant about Israeli Memorial Day; click here for one with but a single word in English – trust me, you’ll get the point even if you don’t speak Hebrew) but the truth is that Goldberg is right: “I don’t think I have ever seen a demonstration of Israeli contempt for American Jews as obvious” — which is to say: It’s always been there, it’s always been fairly blatant. It’s just never been quite this blatant.

This two-faced behavior is a feature in the Israeli-Diaspora relationship, not a bug. Why American Jews as a community are not out-and-out incensed by it is beyond me.

Who are they to tell you that you are not a good enough Jew?

Who are they?

What the hell kind of Jew am I?

I feel pretty strongly that I shouldn’t have to defend my Judaism in order to have my opinions about Israel taken seriously.

I feel pretty strongly about it, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am often called upon to defend my Judaism anyway. And I often go ahead and defend my Judaism anyway, not because it needs defending, but because I hope that the news that I am not, in fact, an apikoros (heretic) will perhaps allow a few new ideas out into the marketplace. Like, for instance, the idea that one need not be an apikoros to criticize Israel.

And so, hereunder, my answer to the occasionally posed questions that boil down to: What the hell kind of Jew are you?

I am an Israeli Jew, married to an Israeli Jew who was born and raised in Jerusalem. I made aliyah as a young woman, and lived in Tel Aviv for 14 years.

I am also an active member of a Chicago-area Conservative shul. I keep a strictly kosher home — which is to say, I have different sets of dishes (and silverware, and pots, and pans, and…) for meat meals and dairy meals, PLUS two entirely different sets for Passover, in keeping with the laws governing the removal of hametz (leavening) from our homes during Passover.

Come to that, I clean like a madwoman in the lead-up to Passover, annually performing the ritual of “selling” my hametz to a non-Jew, and stripping our lives of anything the least bit contaminated with hametz for a week. I cover my hair when I daven (pray), and I study Torah regularly — I’m currently making my way through Everyman’s Talmud; this summer I worked more directly on Pirkei Avot. I don’t work on Shabbat or holidays, and on holidays, my children stay home from school; we attend services in the morning, and share some Torah study in the afternoon. My family frequently speaks Hebrew in our home, and we visit Israel roughly once a year. I feel very strongly that our job in life — as Jews certainly, but also more generally, as people — is to advance the cause of tikkun olam, or repairing the world.

My politics regarding Israel/Palestine stem from all of that — from the tikkun olam stuff, from the ideas held within our rituals, from the content of our prayers, on and on, and perhaps most especially, from my love of Israel. Israel is my home, and I am a Zionist. A two-state solution in which both sides are allowed human dignity and genuine security would not only be good for the Palestinians (who have been suffering under our boot for far, far too long), but it would also be good for the Jews.

I live in what I think of as the gentle exile of American suburbia not because I stopped loving Israel, but because Israel became so deeply invested in maintaining and perpetuating the immoral and indefensible occupation and settlement project that the entire state is now predicated on little else — and my Jerusalemite husband and I didn’t want to raise our Israeli-Jewish children in such a place. Didn’t want to sacrifice them and their lives on that alter, or raise them in a society in which that sacrifice, that immorality, is deemed holy.

I also happen to be a convert. This matters not at all to me — because as far as I’m concerned, I’m not a convert, I’m a Jew — but in the interests of full disclosure, I include that information here. I converted from a place of deep and abiding faith and trust in the Holy One Blessed Be He, and if we believe our stories, I was at Sinai when He gave our people our Law. I like to believe I was standing right next to my husband (who I actually met a week after I converted), holding my kids’ hands.

Slowly but surely, I find myself becoming a bit less of an Israeli Jew, and a bit more of an American one — this is, in no small part, because of the utter contempt with which Israel as an institution treats the Diaspora. I cannot stand it, and so I find myself throwing my emotional lot in, more and more, with my brothers and sisters on this side of the ocean. My respect for the Diaspora has grown enormously since leaving Israel, as I watch people struggle with a language they don’t know in order to maintain ritual and tradition in the face of a majority culture that really has little space for any of it. It’s a tremendous, and highly admirable, feat.

So what the hell kind of Jew am I? I’m that kind of Jew. Now you know. And when this post has been up for a few days, I’ll turn it into a permanent page — that way when the next person asks, I won’t have to say it all again.

Crossposted at Angry Black Lady Chronicles.

Rosh Hashana 2011 – a little grumpy, but I’m trying my best.

Tonight is Erev Rosh Hashana – the eve of the Jewish New Year. In the Jewish calendar, days begin and end at sunset, so once the sun has set over the Greater Chicagoland Area, I will be off the grid for three solid days*: Tonight, tomorrow, Friday (the holiday is actually two days long for almost everyone but some in the Reform movement), and Saturday-until-after-sunset, because that’ll be Shabbat. Try not to let the world blow up without me, ‘kay?

Truth be told, I’m not feeling very holiday-ish today. I’ve bought a ton of special food, we have plans for services and time with friends, and it’s hard for me not to love anything that results in me getting to spend concentrated time with my family — but.

But, for me, being Jewish is hopelessly entangled with being Israeli, a thing which I very loudly announced I was tired of being the other day. I have always found the American Jewish community’s attachment to the modern State of Israel as an article of religious faith to be problematic — surely when in prayer, our thoughts are to be on our relationship to the Divine, and not the latest policies of a political construct? Surely we can be good Jews, and yet oppose some of those policies, no matter our familial relationship to the people making them? — but in light of my utter exhaustion with being Israeli this year, I feel even more knee-jerk misanthropic about the notion of spending time with my own people (the people to whom, let’s not forget, I happily joined myself of my own accord. I was at Sinai! Etc, etc, and so on. Oh, bother).

So, you know, writing about the holiday hasn’t exactly felt like a thing I wanted to do. And yet here we are! And here’s the thing that I’ve been thinking about lately, re: Rosh Hashana:

We are taught that Rosh Hashana is not, as I just called it, “the Jewish New Year.” Aside from anything else, it falls on the first day of the seventh month of our calendar, meaning that calling it the Jewish New Year is a little bit like planning your New Year’s Eve bash for the Fourth of July.

The words “Rosh Hashana” do translate to “head of the year” — it’s just not our “head,” our beginning, that we’re celebrating. We’re taught that Rosh Hashana marks the very, very beginning — the world’s creation. The Holy One Blessed Be He completed His work on this day, we believe, which is why we also call the holiday Yom Harat Olam, the day of the world’s birth. Rather than drawing inward on this holiday, in a very real way, we’re meant to look out — to celebrate all of creation, and annually reconsider the role we play on the world stage.

And here’s what recently struck me: Isn’t fall kind of an odd time to celebrate the birth of the world?

This honestly never crossed my mind before. Jewish holidays are very tightly bound to the turn of the seasons, in part because we were once an agricultural society, and in part because we’re taught that our holidays sanctify the cosmic year. You really can’t celebrate Passover in the summer, for instance. It’s in the spring because it’s meant to be in the spring — the holiday depends on the calendar, but the calendar also depends on the holiday. Given that our calendar is, in fact, lunar, the ancients had to go to real trouble to tinker with it to make sure the holidays stay on course; a solar aspect was folded into things, and every third, sixth, eighth, eleventh, fourteenth, seventeenth and nineteenth year, we have a second month of Adar to even things up. That’s a lot of trouble to go to in order to keep the holidays in their seasons — so why are we celebrating the world’s birth in the very season in which the world begins its annual slumber?

I’m guessing the more Orthodox among us would say “because we did the math and that’s when it happened,” but I’m not the kind of Jew for whom that’s a very useful answer.

I don’t know, of course, but I wonder if this doesn’t tell us something about becoming, and being. I wonder if, at the very moment that we are becoming, we might not need to withdraw into the earth, cover ourselves with mulch, and gestate. We like to believe (I like to believe) that the desire to change or become is all we need in order to effect change — from the social protests in Israel, to the revolutions in the Arab World, to the individual upheavals of the heart — but that really and truly isn’t how humans work. We trundle along, bump into the need to change, think about that for awhile, decide to change, struggle with that for awhile, achieve some newness, readjust for awhile. Like that. We cannot just burst into being — we have to lay low and allow the change to seep into blood and bones that are still enough, quiet enough, to really take it in.

So Happy New Year, world! As we all struggle forward, as we are born anew, may be also lay still and quiet enough to allow ourselves to grow straight and true, and bring a much, much better year to a very weary world. May your year be sweet, and may your blessings be as numerous as the seeds of the pomegranate, amen, amen.

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*In terms of this blog, that means that comments may get stuck in moderation for awhile. I generally ask my Shabbos goy (aka: the husband, a raging atheist) to fish these out now and then, because one doesn’t want to be rude, especially not for three solid days, but yeah…. If you get stuck, don’t despair! It’ll show up eventually!

Crossposted at Angry Black Lady Chronicles.

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