How the cookie crumbles

I love cookies, especially if they're Stars of David. This being the area that it is, I thought these certainly would be called "snowflakes" to make them more palatable to the Christian community, but I was pleasantly surprised. My son and I don't have exactly discerning tastes, so we have been eating them with relish. My daughter, between having a head cold and not being as susceptible to sugar as we are, decided she doesn't like them. What can you do?

This has been an interesting year and seems as though it will be an interesting holiday season as well. Since my daughter is in first grade, the class is branching out to discuss the different heritages of the class and their holiday traditions. They even had a brief lesson on Chanukah, during which she found she was the only student who knew that Chanukah lasts eight nights and involves the lighting of the menorah. I can't say that she really knows or understands much more than the basics of Chanukah, but it was thrilling to see her bounding in from school, bursting to tell me that she had known something about being Jewish. When will it be the right time to discuss the religious make up of this family? The time may come sooner than later, as more people take note that we light a menorah or overhear her practicing her blessings. Every now and again I can overhear a quiet "Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu..." For me, it's wonderful to know that she is interested and embracing Judaism along with me. It would be even more wonderful and I think peaceful if we were settled and secure in our identity as Jews. I made an agreement with my husband that I wouldn't take any additional steps beyond learning while he was deployed, so that surety is a ways off. I am looking forward to the day when I can walk up to my rabbi and say, "It is time...I am ready." Until then, the children and I will continue to walk in the balance and wait.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

I am enjoying these Introduction to Judaism classes so much! It's a chance to discuss different basic topics. A time to ask the nagging little questions that I can never think of when I run into the rabbi at other times, and which are too small to bother with sending an email to ask. It's also a great way to exchange and compare ideas with others, as well as just sharing time with friends.

Another great feature of these Sunday afternoons is being able to find one on one time with the rabbi if I need it. Last Sunday was one of those days, although talking with him was unintentional until I realized my worries about my mother were already pouring out to his sympathetic ear. My rabbi is a very easy person to share with, although no conversation ends without being given something to think about and turn over in my mind.

What stuck with me from this conversation was his gentle questioning on how my faith journey is coming. With so much going on over the past few months, I have to admit my movement has come to a standstill. I am forever questioning myself whether I still believe converting is the right thing to do for myself, but also for my family. We have so many stressors right now that I don't feel at liberty to simply throw another one into the mix and hope the batter doesn't go flying. Thankfully, Rabbi understands and agrees with my assessment. He said something about things not progressing swiftly, and I agreed that that was not in the cards, to which he nodded. In this case, it is not the best thing to be the swiftest. Just as I read to my children, slow and steady will win the race. With a supportive group of people to cheer me on, I have no doubt that will be true.

A day late, a dollar short...

Veterans Day was yesterday, but today was the day my daughter's school set aside for honoring all the veterans who are either family, friends, or neighbors of the students. My daughter and another little girl got a special surprise in the form of a webcam conversation with both their fathers, who are serving together in a unit in the National Guard. Apparently there were tears on both sides of the screen, but the excitement of seeing her father for the first time in over a month was well worth it.

I hate to harp on something so simple, especially when military families seem to do so every time we turn around. I suppose I could say it bears repeating, but in all honesty I'm just expressing my heartfelt emotions when I say that the families sacrifice, too. Our soldiers willingly admit that they couldn't do what they do in service to our country if they didn't have those loyal, loving supporters back home waiting for them. I don't think that most military spouses and families are looking for sympathy or a pat on the back...frankly, that's annoying. However, until going through a deployment I had no idea how true the axiom is, that you can't really understand until you experience the situation. The depth of sorrow when explaining to a child how exactly the military will [hopefully not need to] notify her of her father's death is one that can't be plumbed without experience. How do you hold a child night after night as she cries herself to sleep, and continue to hold yourself together?

Being a spouse and not a military member, I know the softer side of deployment. Knowing how difficult it is for the families watching and waiting, I gain new appreciation of how much more difficult it must be for the military members who not only are missing their family and friends, but also all the comforts of home and the sense of security knowing that no one will bomb the neighborhood at night. I haven't experienced it to know in part or in full what the soldiers, airmen, sailors, and Marines feel, and I'm thankful in a way that their service makes mine on the home front, rather than the battle front, possible.

To all those who have served or are serving our country in any capacity, thank you. To all those who have supported those who serve, thank you as well.

My, My, My...

Yes, I'm from the South, as you may have gathered from my title. I do say things such as "my goodness!" and "weyll" (speakers of proper English may know that word by its proper spelling, "well." But when gusting it out as a tired exclamation, there's another syllable added). This is all appropos of nothing, but now you know.

So much has been going on in my life since I last blogged, I don't know where to begin. Without a reliable babysitter my evening service attendance has become non-existent. I'm very sad and frustrated about that, especially since it's been a year since I began attending services. It just seemed appropriate to attend on the same chag on which I started: Simchat Torah. As always, life seems to get in the way when you don't make special arrangements for priorities.

My husband has been gone two and a half of the nearly 18 months he'll be serving. My mother has taken a turn for the worse and will be moved to a nursing home as soon as her mental state is stabilized in the hospital. The dementia which has been slowly affecting her over the past several years has advanced to the stage where she doesn't recognize me or my children, and she's become very volatile and agitated. This move is probably the best thing for the entire family, as she'll be able to receive better care in a professional setting, and my father and younger brother will be able to lead semi-normal lives once again. The strain of the situation on my father is difficult to express, but I'm glad he's able to find peace in his decision.

I continue in my studies, both in school and shul. We are taking a break from our Intro to Judaism class after the High Holy Days, but I was able to meet up with a friend from class to discuss the Torah portion Noach, as well as the election, which at the time was days away. As for that, I can only say I'm glad the campaign is over; now may the work begin!

Preparations are underway for Thanksgiving and soon the winter holiday season will be upon us. I am having trouble pulling myself out of the tired funk I've fallen into. I spend too much time up late at night trying to play catch-up on all the things I probably should have had time for earlier in the day...but yet they remain unfinished. It doesn't help that a mother's work is never done--there's a constant round of laundry, especially since flu season hit us early and hard this year. My poor son has had to deal with several bouts of stomach ailments in the past couple weeks. Good thing the little guy is tough as nails. If only I were!

This has been a bit of a stream-of-consciousness post, but I just don't have a strong topic to write on right now. Must be the exhaustion you only get staying up all night rubbing backs and smoothing hair off fevered foreheads. I hope everyone else is healthy and well...time to enjoy the last few days of fall before the cold weather really hits!

I'm back!

It has been over a month since I've blogged anything, and the need to blog has been building up over the past couple of weeks. I spent the last weeks of August trying to soak up all the time with my husband that I could, and after he left trying to adjust to being an ersatz single mom and college student. By the early middle of this month I had gotten mostly into the swing of things...thankfully, because I added another ball to the round I was already juggling: Intro to Judaism. I can't tell you how excited and thrilled I am to be taking this course. My rabbi has a wonderful speaking presence, and he really pulls us into his discussion as he explains the focal point of the week. Of course, we have several people, myself included, who can manage to get us all off track, but we're still learning even in that.

This past session was on Rosh Hashanah, very appropriate for this week. We enjoyed challah, apples, honey, and apple cake as we discussed the meaning of the holiday and the Yamim No'arim, the Days of Awe leading from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur. Although I have a basic understanding of the holidays, it's still a joy to be able to share the experience and learning with others.

Tonight I was able to pass that joy on to my children. I actually baked a round challah myself, and we had it along with a sliced apple and some honey. My daughter was all smiles as we lit the candles, recited the blessings, and talked about the meaning of the New Year. My son had a little trouble understanding that this was not the same as the secular New Year, but he enjoyed the honey and challah regardless.

So, that is my update. I hope to be able to spend a little more time keeping up with my blogging, and I'm sure the class will give me even more to think and blog about.

L'Shanah Tovah!

Blogging without Obligation

I came across this little logo on another blog tonight. I had actually been intending to write a blog about how I was so busy, I didn't have time to really blog...and then I read this. I think sometimes we push ourselves to find things that are blog-worthy just so we don't lose the interest of others. I know I've thought to myself, "I really need to blog again...how long has it been?" But with so many other "real" obligations in life, why do I need yet another one hanging over my head? We are down to countable days before my husband is mobilized for his deployment, and a week before my daughter and I start back to our schools. I'm trying to enjoy this time as much as possible by staying up until the sun has set, sleeping in until the children rise, and doing as many things as we can fit into a day. There is paperwork to sign and file, people to visit, places to go, food to eat...and yet the best time is that spent quietly together as a couple and a family, cuddled in our bed with the world and its problems far away from our sunny summer mornings.

Mondays will be back. Rain and chilly weather will come. There will be a time when there is no one to talk with and my blog may be my best confidante. But until that time comes, the blog will wait, because time will not.

I hope you're all having a good last few weeks of summer...squeeze it all in, wring every last drop from it, and save the light of fireflies in a jar until the time for lighting rows of candles has come again. Shalom!

Night

I read the book Night years ago. Our seventh grade teachers worked together to create a history and English collective unit which would address the Holocaust and our literary goals at the same time. It's amazing how a month or two of intensive study of a single topic can impact one's view of the world for a lifetime. Perhaps the reason behind that is the topic itself: the Holocaust.

Most of the history classes I've taken have given a brief overview of the Holocaust. It's assumed that everyone simply knows about it, having picked up the knowledge through osmosis in our culture. Who doesn't recognize the names Mengele, Eichmann, Himmler, Goering, or Hitler? Who hasn't seen Schindler's List and doesn't remember the little girl in red? Who hasn't read or seen The Diary of Anne Frank? Who hasn't heard of Auschwitz-Birkenau, Buchenwald, Dachau, Treblinka, or Sobibor?

Perhaps these names and images are so familiar to me because of that unit, but a long time has passed between then and now. As I'm reading in preparation for conversion, I'm viewing these places, people, and events with the eyes of an adult, a parent, and a Jew. Rather than thinking as I did then how thankful I was not to have been in jeopardy, I think "What if this happens again? What am I exposing myself and my children to?" The largest question looming, overarching, is "Is this worth it?"

No one wants to face such things. No one wants to put their children in harm's way. It's startling to think that I have the power of choice, when so many millions did not. It's humbling, it's frightening, and at times it feels shameful. How dare I ask myself these things, when others are simply born into it, and live as they are? Is it selfish to want to protect my children when so many others wanted the same and had no say? How could it not be?

I will never be a replacement for all those who were lost. That's simply not possible, unthinkable. How can I honor their memory? According to Elie Wiesel, we honor their memory by not letting it die. We must continue to share their stories, to remember what befell them, and to make sure that it never happens again, to anyone.

Hard Questions

I think as readers we can look at this and think further on it. Before converting, we should ask ourselves, Is a Jewish life something I want for myself always, or just in this specific situation (e.g. with this particular person)? If the answer is yes to the former, then by all means proceed. But if Judaism for us is only relevant in the context of being with one person, we should reconsider. Another question might be, Do I have a warm, healthy, supportive community of which I want to be a part, so that if my spouse were to die (lo aleinu), or depart, I would want to remain a part of this community, and perhaps someday find someone else to live with me as part of this community (or one similar to it)? It’s important for us to be happy with our lives apart from where we are with a particular partner. So many people who divorce or are widowed make major changes in their lives afterwards. Maybe that’s helpful to them, or necessary in moving on from their grief, or because they’ve always wanted to do things differently and finally have the liberty and incentive to make those changes. But Judaism is not a hairstyle or a neighborhood or a career; it’s a community, and a relationship with God. I still wouldn’t judge someone who felt he or she had to make a major change even there, but it’s really sad to see someone who invested the time and all the changes she had to make in her life to bring in Judaism, then decide to abandon it.

This is an excerpt from a comment to a blog post made by Shimshonit on JBC.org. It's interesting to me, because the discussion was focused on Orthodox conversions and the opinions of Rabbi Stewart Weiss on his converts' zeal for Judaism (or lack thereof). The comments to the blog really reflected the experiences of the commenters more than the actual content of the post itself as discussion turned to women's roles within Orthodox shuls reflecting their desire to be Jewish (or not). Obviously the conversation took many twists and turns, and is impossible to fully sum up here, so I'd suggest reading the actual blog if you're interested in more.

I just found myself struck more by this paragraph from Shimshonit's response more than anything else. "Is a Jewish life something I want for myself always, or just in this specific situation?" Obviously my circumstances aren't the same as those discussed in the blog, where a woman converts because her potential marriage partner is Jewish...in fact, quite the opposite! I'm converting despite the fact that my marriage partner is NOT Jewish. But the situation still begs the question, is it just for this situation? Am I converting because of a lack of something in my life? Out of boredom? Because I'm difficult like that? Is this something I would abandon later because I grew tired of fighting my family over it, or is this something I so strongly identify with that I would never abandon it?

Shimshonit is quite right: Judaism is not a hairstyle, a neighborhood, or a career. Although Shim may have meant that in the sense that wearing ones' hair in an specific manner, living in the "right" neighborhood, or choosing a career based on Jewish background does not make one a Jew, I also read that to mean that Judaism is not a simple change that can be changed back through a new haircut, a move, or a career change. Once you join a community and form a relationship with them and more importantly with God, how can you abandon that? Right now my focus is necessarily on my relationship with God...who is He, and who am I in light of that? Once I come to a sort of comfort with what I believe about both of those things, will that change, or will it be firmly placed?

I don't face the same circumstances as a woman converting, but as Shimshonit said, I must ask myself these hard questions nonetheless.

The Five Minute Shower Challenge

If you look to the right, you'll see I've added a button titled "I'm having a Quickie." I would tell you not to blush, but I'm sure I'm more prudish than most of my (limited) readership, so I'll just explain.

As a military spouse I've found it's not good to be alone, either in real life or here in La-la-land. I'm very blessed in that I have a wonderful, close-knit group of online friends who help each other get through the hard times and celebrate the good times of being married to the military. Not only do we ooh and aah over babies and cry over deployments, we also talk about our everyday lives. One of our most recent topics of conversation has been about being "green" in whatever ways we can find. You could say we're a more crunchy-granola group than some, I suppose. Which means finding the Crunchy Domestic Goddess fit in perfectly with what we'd been discussing already, and I am more than willing to take up the challenge of a five minute shower each day. As I told the ladies, the kids don't let me get by with more than three to five minutes most days, anyway...hopefully this will be a piece of cake!

Military spouse or not, I encourage you to consider taking up this challenge...or setting one of your own, for recycling, driving less, or reusing more. Every little bit adds up and makes a difference.

The Nature of the Balancing Act

Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, also known by the Hebrew acronym RaMCHaL, wrote in Derekh Hashem (The Way of G-d) "Man is the creature created for the purpose of being drawn close to G-d. He is placed between perfection and deficiency, with the power to earn perfection. Man must earn this perfection, however, through his own free will... Man's inclinations are therefore balanced between good (Yetzer HaTov) and evil (Yetzer HaRa), and he is not compelled toward either of them. He has the power of choice and is able to choose either side knowingly and willingly..."

Source: Wikipedia

It's interesting how much my thoughts are influenced by Jewish concepts now. My husband's deployment is nearing, which leads to many stressful situations and a lot of tension in our household. Shalom beit has left the building...

As I was thinking about how I normally think and respond when faced with these situations (aside: who knew there would be a real-life reason to use the term "metacognition?"), I realized I'm starting to see a split between my first inclination to react, and my thoughts on how I should react knowing the circumstances influencing each of us. That thought led to a rumination on the nature of being, and the yetzer hatov and yetzer hara.

After laughing at myself for being so immersed in my own mind that I had stood with my hands in a sinkful of soapy dishes without washing more than two in ten minutes, I launched into more thoughts on how much my thought patterns have changed over the course of the year. It's natural for a Jewish concept of human nature to occur, rather than the usual Christian approach that I naturally jump to the negative reaction because I'm born evil and broken and obviously need saving and "washing in the blood." The Jewish approach is much more forgiving, yet also more realistic than, say, the basic tabula rasa approach.

I have to question how anyone could look at a child and say that the in-born selfishness they exhibit at a year old consigns them to hellfire. Are they influenced by a bent which puts others behind self, of course! This is why the idea of yetzer hatov developing later (and around the time that developmental psychology says judgement and higher thinking are developing) makes so much sense and is so much more acceptable to my mind. Of course, I realize my mind isn't enough to base a belief system on (wouldn't it be nice if I were on that level of function!), but in order for me to accept a belief system as my own and to live my life accordingly, I have to find it compelling and reasonable. As with a scientific hypothesis and theory, when evidence leans more to one hypothesis than another, we accept the one that best explains the evidence...we don't twist the evidence to match our firm thoughts.

My husband would tell me I'm missing the entire point of faith and belief. Perhaps he's right. But if all I had was blind faith, what would keep me elbow-high in dishes?

Mandi's Big Give

This isn't a specifically "Jewish" post, but since I know there are other Etsy shoppers out there, I thought I'd share another link.

My friend Mandi is a former soldier who was dual-military until she found out she and her husband were expecting. Now her husband is also out of the military, and they are a hard-working couple: both in school with two adorable boys in tow. Mandi is an amazing mom who is the consummate juggler. She's a nursing student by day, an artsy-craftsy home-business woman in the evening, and a blogger whenever she finds time to fit it in (and you'd have to ask her when exactly that happens, because I've never been able to figure it out!)

Since the family is moving soon, Mandi is trying to move some of her Etsy products and gain some extra name-recognition at the same time: She's having a blow-out giveaway on her Etsy blog. Please visit her Esty storefront along with her blog, and see all the adorable children's and women's clothing and items she has available. You couldn't find a better woman to work with for custom items, nor a more worthy family to support with your dollars.

Love ya, Mandi, good luck with the move!

A slice of Guilt

I visited my mother in the hospital this morning. She has several ailments right now, but thankfully she was in good spirits. I think seeing her grandchildren and getting lots of hugs helped brighten her day immensely, and my father's, too.

I love my parents. They are such a strong couple, dealing with so many illnesses and deaths in our family, my brother's deployment to Afghanistan last year, my husband's deployment coming up, my mother's illnesses which never seem to have answers...

People often joke about the Jewish "corner on the market" for guilt. Well, honey, cut me a big slice of that pie, because when I tell my parents I'm converting I will have guilt like nobody's business! I'm already feeling guilty just considering breaking the news to them, along with the guilt of not telling them all this time.

I ask myself, how can I bear to break my father's heart? Doesn't my mother have enough to bear right now? Honestly, I wonder don't I have enough to bear right now without throwing a conversion to Judaism into the mix. I've been feeling a stronger and stronger desire to tell my parents, though. I suppose once I reach that boiling point, I'll have found a way to tell them without making them feel at fault for my choosing this path, which is probably the part which worries me the most.

"Dear Mom and Dad: I love you. I'm becoming Jewish."

Isn't it great?

Don't forget to check out Haveil Havalim!

I never seem to remember to post this, but I do enjoy reading Haveil Havalim from time to time (when I find a spare few minutes)...

This week HH is over at Ima on the Bima's blog.

If you haven't heard of HH before, here's the quick explanation:

Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a carnival of Jewish blogs -- a weekly collection of Jewish & Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It's hosted by different bloggers each week and coordinated by Jack. The term 'Haveil Havalim,' which means "Vanity of Vanities," is from Qoheleth, (Ecclesiastes) which was written by King Solomon. King Solomon built the Holy Temple in Jerusalem and later on got all bogged down in materialism and other 'excesses' and realized that it was nothing but 'hevel,' or in English, 'vanity.'

Enjoy!

To Rebbetzyn

I was going to address my thoughts in a comment, but I think this will be long enough it deserves a post of its own.

Duram8r:

Thank you for taking the time to comment on my blog and to try to clear up my possible misunderstanding of your position.

Perhaps I'm missing your point, but the only link I find between your views and the Christian views which I referenced is that both show an intolerance for the beliefs of others. Although there are antisemitic Christians, Christianity itself is not antisemitic. Nor do I find Reform or Conservative Judaism to be antisemitic. Choosing not to affiliate with Orthodox Judaism is not inherently antisemitic, it is simply a difference of opinion. I'm sorry that you seem to view it otherwise.

I'm not sure what you mean by Christians "claiming to be Jews and being threatened by and hating authentic Judaism"...I assume you are referring to the Christian claim that they have replaced the Jews as the "Chosen people," which I have to admit seems to me to be a usurpation, along with the Christian claim on the "Old Testament." However, I can assure you that most Christians do not even give thought to authentic Judaism, much less take the time to feel threatened by it or even less, to hate it. I'm sorry that your experience has led you to feel otherwise or to feel the need to lash out at such believers.

I agree with you that my soul-searching will ultimately lead to my acceptance of Judaism or my choosing to live under the Noachide commandments. As much of a struggle as my search has caused me thus far, believe me I don't choose the "easy" path. I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean by "the lek lekah that must be done on some level." My only knowledge of Lekh Lekhah is as the Torah portion, and I'm not sure how you apply that to this discussion. I'd be happy to hear more if you're willing to explain it.

As far as your reference to loss of soul, I went back to your original post and read this along with the portion I quoted, which make more sense together:

I feel deeply saddened that the midah kneged midah of every
self -hating / self- ignorant Jew
that gets sucked into xanity produces an equal and opposite effect is inflicted on Non-Jews
they have secular/Self hating Jews con them into false conversions.

By this I assume you believe that G-d is taking souls, measure for measure? For every Jew who becomes a Christian, a Christian/gentile becomes conned into a false Jewish conversion which does not bequeath them a Jewish soul? It's an interesting way of looking at things, but if G-d were working measure for measure, wouldn't He want to give a Jewish soul to those former gentiles in order to fill the place vacated by a Jew converting? Or do you mean that the "self-hating Jews" who are not Orthodox purposely make false conversions in order to strike back against those who converted their fellow "self-hating, self-ignorant" Jews to Christianity?

I will be the first to admit that I have a great deal to learn, and I certainly don't understand everything I come across. Thank you again for making the effort to help me see your perspective on this.

Cold Chill on a Hot Day

It's not easy to have a cold chill pass over your body on a 90 degree day, but sometimes there are things that can accomplish that and then some. Reading a past comment to a post over on JBC.org managed to cause me a cold chill and a momentary feeling of despair just now.

The post was titled Three Inspiring Gerim: Rabbi Asher Wade, Gavriel Sanders, and Yisrael Campbell, and described the conversion experiences of these three Orthodox Jews. It was not the original post, but a response to it by none other than Gavriel Sanders himself which affected me so much:

I hold one simple metric for defining a Jew: will this person have Jewish grandchildren? Maintaining the living links in the chain of Jewish perpetuity is what matters. The Torah provides profound guidance for insuring the Jewish future. "Atem had’vekim ba’Hashem Elokeychem - chaim kulchem hayom." - You who cling to Hashem your G-d are all alive this day."

I can't answer his metric. Will I have Jewish grandchildren? If my family has anything to do with it, probably not. This is something which has bothered me from the time I started to consider conversion, and it continues to bother me...can I be Jewish if I'm unable to bring my children along? Is there a point in becoming Jewish if I can't be "fully Jewish" by having a Jewish marriage and a Jewish home? According to Sanders, apparently no.

A further comment by a poster known only as "Rebbetzyn" included this even more circumscribed thought:

There is a commenton a film that can be ordered from J.E.M.S/KEHOT by the Lubavitcher Rebbe where he talks
about how any movement that is Non-Orthodox dupes the convert
as they cannot effect a conversion his words are ” they do
NOT get a Jewish soul and they lose the one they have”
The explanation is as I understand it their “Beis Din” cannot affect the descent of a Jewish soul through their auspices.
and that because / if they themselves are halachically Jewish the fact that they are Jews means that they have enough spiritual power to do the opposite of good to the unsuspecting person…what is affected is a loss with no gain…..Ithink that it would
be in the best case scenario the seven noachide laws by default.

[sic]

It comes as no surprise that an Orthodox Jew (I assume, judging by the stance this poster takes) believes that one cannot be a Jew through conversion under auspices other than the Orthodox. It is still a bit of a blow, especially when combined with a supposed quote from the Rebbe that not only would such a convert lack a Jewish soul, but would also lose the gentile one which they had. I don't know if it's superstitious of me to be affected so much by that thought, but I am. Although I am not an Orthodox Jew, I still have respect for the Rebbe as a great and wise leader.

Do I really believe that by converting under Reform auspices I'll lose my soul? No. Surely it isn't the specific religion, but the clinging to G-d which is most important to one's soul? I must admit this may be my own wishful thinking, but there it is. Does one actually lose a soul in any conversion? Is that possible? I don't think so. I also don't think a Jewish soul can be created where one doesn't already exist. A heightened understanding, sympathy, tolerance, openness, those may be created in someone through knowledge and experience. Only G-d places souls, and only He knows which soul he placed in each person.

Yes, Sanders and "Rebbetzyn" rattled my nerves a bit this afternoon by touching on an already sore spot. However, if I don't allow misguided Christians calling down hellfire on me to rattle me, how can I allow a nameless poster and a Jewish strict constructionist to do the same? Only G-d and I know the state of my own soul, and that is enough for me.

Speaking of my not-kosher kitchen...

Interesting topic I found in Conversations in Klal.

It makes me feel a bit better that I'm not trying to keep a strictly kosher kitchen. ;)

Is Reform Kashrut an Oxymoron?

My husband and I were having a discussion a couple days ago about Judaism in general, but specifically my efforts toward keeping kosher. I am converting under the auspices of Reform Judaism, mainly because that's the affiliation of our local synagogue (much like Yair, I live far out in the Diaspora), but also because I doubt any other branch would be willing to convert a married woman whose husband is firmly against her conversion and whose children will be raised in an interfaith fashion, rather than as Jews.

There was an interesting discussion on kashrut over on Jews by Choice a week or so ago. I'll just share one point made by Avi, but if you're interested the entire post and comment thread is full of well thought out responses.

What I’m still curious about, is just what do reform Jews mean by keeping kosher? To my mind Kashrut is (or at least it is intended to be) something of an objective measure. Kosher is A and not B. I’m not sure how that works in a community where no such standards exist. Two Reform Jews can call themselves Jew’s who keep kosher but may mean two totally different things by it. I’m not sure that Rivkah saying that she “keeps kosher according to her evolving standards” really means anything at all other than to her as an individual. Don’t get me wrong that’s fine within the context of individual Observance but Kashrut, as I see it, depends upon accepted community standards. I’m not suggesting that everyone follows the standard but rather that it is at least accepted as the standard by which Kashrut is measured.

I guess that I’m with the Orthodox on this one Rivkah.

Anyhow bottom line is that (from my POV at any rate) it’s good to see that Reform Jews seem to be interested in working with this form of Observance.

So what do Reform Jews mean by "keeping kosher?" If halakha isn't binding on the Reform community, what is our measure for what is or is not kosher? Do we draw the line at pork and seafood? Do we keep kosher in some settings but not others? Do we not mix meat and milk?

As Avi pointed out, my efforts to keep kosher are fine on an individual basis, but don't mean anything in the context of Judaism worldwide. Something I mentioned in my response to the post was my experience last Hanukkah when I brought a homemade apple and cranberry sauce to our shul's dinner. Some people ate it, but many bypassed it. It wasn't until I paid more attention to what was offered on the buffet and what people chose for their plates that I realized what might have affected the popularity (or lack thereof) of my dish: many seemed to be keeping strict kosher. I should have realized this before, because we had a conversation about bringing dishes during our "crash" Hebrew course earlier that week. Although this congregation is affiliated Reform, because it serves a wide area as the only synagogue, many who may otherwise have chosen to be Conservative attend. Because of this, the laws of Kashrut affect all of us, Reform or not.

It was ironic that this blog post and discussion were echoed by my husband the other night. He wanted to know why I wasted my time trying to keep "kosher" when I wasn't in fact keeping kosher properly. My husband has been the victim of many one-sided discussions of the ins and outs of Judaism over the past several months, so he's aware of what keeping Kashrut entails: separate dishes for milk and meat, allowing time to elapse between eating milk and meat, looking for the approved hekhsher on packages, and the kosher slaughter of animals for meat to be acceptable. The effort it would take to make our home kosher, both physically and emotionally within our marriage, is staggering. This is a main component of why I don't keep true kosher: a freezer with bacon sitting beside non-kosher hamburger negates any effort on my part to not eat dairy with that hamburger. The same pots and pans are used for pork, other meats, and dairy, thus rendering any food cooked therein treif.

So why do I try to keep kosher in my own little way? Because as much as Reform Judaism may say halakha isn't binding, I still feel the pull that this is part and parcel of my life as a Jew. Perhaps, in different circumstances, I would be Conservative. My husband tries to understand this need of mine, but he can't. I don't blame him, because I can't explain or truly understand it either. Although it may be a failed effort on my part, I'll continue to make it. For me, it is a piece to the puzzle of walking humbly with my G-d.

Liminality

I am reading the book Generation J by Lisa Schiffman, and found a wonderful passage that describes me to a "t."

Liminality is the gray area. It's the step before transformation, a necessary uncomfortable state of being. It had fascinated me since I learned of it in graduate school. Turner called it the state of being betwixt and between, and wrote about it in reams. It's a phase of unease. Insecurity. Not-knowing. Ambivalence.

Here's an example. Say you wanted to convert to Judaism. You'd lived with this desire for years. You no longer believed in Jesus as the messiah, and you didn't celebrate Easter or take communion. You went to synagogue on Friday nights. You finally understood that gefilte fish was edible--yes, not something to fear. Walking around with a last name like McCormick--attached to the notion of Christmas, perhaps, but lighting Shabbat candles with fervor--you were just before the juncture, the opening. You needed the rabbi's blessing, which was six months away. You were on the way to becoming whatever it is you would become. In the meantime, neither Christian nor Jew, you were in a spiritual netherworld. You were liminal. Most likely, you were anxious as well.

I should have realized that in the realms of psychology there would be a term for the state I'm in right now. Liminal. I've been struggling so much with this grey area, for months now, but definitely in the last few weeks. I want so much to belong somewhere, to feel at home in my own skin, and I'm simply not there yet. I'm "betwixt and between," and it's painful. Schiffman goes on to say that in our society we've decided pain is a bad thing, and we do our utmost to avoid it, dull it, make it go away. She thinks perhaps it would be better to own it, to exist within it, and possibly embrace it.

I'm not sure that I can embrace anxiety and relentless questions, but to be able to name my state of being, to roll the word around on my tongue and in my mind...liminal. Somehow that is reassuring. Perhaps because it seems impossible to forever exist in the grey area...eventually we must all stop fence sitting and choose to slide off to one side or the other. But for now, I'm uncomfortably situated on top of that fence.

Excerpt from Generation J by Lisa Schiffman. HarperCollins, New York, 1999. pp 90-91.

Just wanted to share an Etsy find...

I love Etsy. In case you haven't discovered it yet, Etsy is a website where you can find wonderful handmade (or hand-chosen) items to buy. I've gotten several hand-screened shirts from the site, for my children and myself. The sellers I've dealt with have been wonderful, and I'm thrilled with the products I have, including a custom deployment bracelet with my husband's name on it.

Today I have made yet another find: a gorgeous hamsa necklace. I don't have the money to spare right now for an accessory purchase, but I'll definitely keep this in mind for the future.

A Smattering of My Day

There are several thoughts brewing right now, none of which seems worthy of a full post. Thus we have another smorgasbord post.

To begin, I have been on a procrastination binge of blog-reading. I find the more I click links, the deeper I fall into the rabbit hole which is the J-blogosphere. I'm sure that other religions, and non-religious folks, for that matter, blog. I'm not so sure they must have each other linked in a spiraling web that leads inexorably to the deep discussions of religious minutiae that J-blogs do. I unfailingly find myself shaking my head, wondering if any of this will ever make sense, but the more I read, the more I find myself understanding. I might also note that Wikipedia is a girl's best friend sometimes. ;) As one poster of note stated, I'm "no Maimonides."

On another note, I bought a box of matzos the other week. Of course they were not kosher l'pesach, but since we've moved well beyond that point I could breathe a sigh of relief. Interestingly, my son and I are becoming addicted to matzos. He chose them over cheese crackers a couple days ago and any parent of a toddler knows that's well nigh a miracle. It must be the salt, the crispness, the slightly burnt edges...yum!

I'm reading the book Exodus by Leon Uris. I already watched the movie starring Paul Newman as Ari Ben Canaan (and may I say, he doesn't strike me as the Ari I would have pictured by reading the novel first?). The book is a bit different from the movie, if you haven't read one and seen the other. In all honesty I prefer the book. It's more realistic in the sense that the movie forces some characters to take on roles played by several people in the book. Not only that, but the book allows for more to play out, better development of characters, and is able to push beyond the declaration of statehood into the fight to hold the land. I may have to compose another post on Israel and its creation, because it simply astounds me.

I believe I'll save my final topic for a full blown post as well. Remind me about history, Aryan guilt, and the presumptuousness of fear. I may need to think it through more fully to do it anything near justice, but I'll try.

Cultural Conversion?

I spoke with a very sweet young woman the other day. She overheard me talking about conversion, and I noticed her beautiful hamsa necklace. It turns out that her mother converted to Judaism after deciding to marry this woman's father, who is a Jew by birth. After we discussed my reasons for conversion and the difficulties holding me back (trying to maintain peace in my marriage and continuity for my children), she shared her experiences. She laughed and said, "it's really simple, just a dip in a bath and you're through!" Then she went on to ask if I would "give" my daughter a bat mitzvah, and talked about how wonderful growing up in a school whose population was approximately half Jewish, especially during her seventh grade year, when they "had bat mitzvahs every weekend, with bands and deejays and light shows...It was awesome! You should really do it for your daughter."

I suppose my quietness in the face of her excitement must have spoken to her, because she quickly added that she is only culturally Jewish, and that I shouldn't worry if I didn't want to convert religiously. She shared that the Jewish community was very accepting, and that it was a wonderful thing.

I have to admit, I'm a bit skeptical about the ability of someone to convert culturally, without any real appreciation or practice of Judaism as a religion. I've heard before that people do it, but I'm not sure how they would go about it...perhaps these people are already part of Jewish families by marriage, and so feel as though they might as well be Jewish, since they live it.

Her enthusiasm was wonderful, even though I can't agree that the purpose of a young person becoming Bar/Bat Mitzvah is for a wild party. ;) I also had to control my smile when she waved her hand airily and said, "it's just a dip in the bath." Au contraire, mon amie! At least, it hasn't been that simple thus far. I don't think I would want it to be that simple, even if it could be. There is so much I want to learn and experience in order to feel I am a bona fide Jew, and a simple dip in the mikveh wouldn't have the same importance to me as feeling the weight of the knowledge of history, and the awareness of how much I don't know!

But she is a very sweet and knowledgeable person, and I enjoyed talking with her. I hope we're able to talk more in the future. I also hope to be able to live up to the last thing she told me before we parted: "If this is what you feel is the right thing, don't let anything stand in the way of doing it. It's really wonderful, being Jewish."

Despite the heartaches, the struggles, the losses, the unspeakable horrors throughout history...it's really wonderful, being Jewish. Amen.

Shabbat Shalom!

Pitifully MIA

I know it's a poor excuse, but I haven't been able to think long enough to put two sentences together for a blog lately. I'm knee-deep in reading and studying for classes, and when I'm not reading, I'm wanting to crash. Case in point: I just realized those lovely kosher hot dogs I put on the stove to heat 10 minutes ago are still cold. I forgot to turn the burner on!

Not only has my mind turned to mush, I haven't been keeping up with my blog reading as I should; worse yet, I haven't been keeping up with my Judaism reading, either. I'm very disappointed not to have free time to read, but I suppose it's the price I pay for a condensed class schedule.

On that note, I think I'll sign off. The heat has the kids bickering at an elevated level, and there are those dogs to fix. But yes, I live!

Waiting for Shabbat

Growing up, my father refused to mow the grass on Sunday. I can remember driving past yards where people were out tending to chores, and my father glaring and muttering under his breath about disobeying the commandment not to work on the Sabbath. Other than not doing yardwork, and of course attending church service in the morning, the Christian "Sabbath" we observed didn't have much meaning. In the last few years my father has read more into some verses in the New Testament about casting off the old ways due to being new in Christ. Now he no longer mutters about people working on the Sabbath, because they aren't Jewish, and Christians aren't bound by the commandments.

One of the first practices I adopted as an "awakening" Jew was observing Shabbat. Rather than just a day when there is a list of "nos," I've observed a day of "yeses"...Yes, I will stop and smell the roses. Yes, I will enjoy the stillness of G-d's creation. Yes, I will take time to read Jewish subjects I haven't had the time to enjoy or mull over during the week. Yes, I will allow my body the gift of rest that G-d has given me. Yes, I will welcome this day with joy and blessing, and the light of candles shining.

Of course there are "nos" as well...no, I won't rush to pick up the phone. No, I won't worry about finances even if a bill comes in the mail. No, I won't hop online to check email. No, I won't give in to tension and argumentativeness. These aren't always easy prohibitions to respect, but at the same time I feel a new appreciation for this oasis in the week when I do observe the "nos" as well as the "yeses."

Shabbat has become an oasis in my week. Friday afternoon I feel time accelerate as I rush to make ready, as if I really am welcoming a guest to my home. Even the children are beginning to understand this change that comes on Friday evenings...my daughter loves to remind her brother that it is time for "Shabbat Shalom...so keep PEACE! Stop picking on me, it's Shabbat!" She even has the spunk to remind me that I need to keep peaceful as well, when her father and I knock heads. I can't help but smile when she adds the "Omein" to our usual prayers with her little grin.

Everyone can say "TGIF"...I say "Thank you, G-d, it's Shabbat!"

Memorial Day

Today is a day of remembrance in the United States and for those citizens abroad. An online friend whose husband is stationed overseas went to visit the Luxembourg American Cemetary to pay her respects and stand in memory of those who went before in the name of a free country. These pictures were taken by her today, and I appreciate her sharing them with other military wives.

Regardless of whether we agree with the politics of war, we must remember that soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines all take oaths to support their country's Constitution, not the President, and not the Congress. Because of their oath of allegiance, they put their lives on the line for everyone, without political clout and without real monetary gain. Many serve in spite of their personal feelings and opinions. Many are serving today, missing out on picnics, on swimming, on grilling out, or on services. Others may unfortunately be witnessing first-hand the services of another generation who have sacrificed their all in the name of country.

Please take a moment to remember the fallen, and hold a respectful thought for their families and those who serve still.

Some joys, some oys...

I suppose I'll start with the joys...might as well have a smile to begin, right?

Today we were in town going to the library when my daughter asked, "Mommy, where is the synagogue?" I pointed it out to her as we drove past, and she added, "I liked going there, when can we go again?" I'm sure I was grinning from ear to ear until we reached our next destination in our errands. How great is it when your child wants to take part in something that's important to you?

Another joy, I watched the film Crossing Delancey this afternoon. During the bris the officiating rabbi/mohel recites blessings, and it was music to my ears to hear Baruch ata Adonai... I love that this is becoming "home" to me, that it's so natural to hear a blessing that I can nearly join in for the entirety.

On to the "oys"...the downside of my daughter wanting to go with me to services is that my husband has laid down the law that he will not allow "his" children to be raised Jewishly. He is adamant that he does not want me to take the kids with me to services or to allow them to engage in rituals with me at home. I also have bowed to his wishes in choosing not to continue attending services for the time being, which is very difficult for me in some ways. I miss the prayers, I miss the rituals, I miss the community I was calling my own. My marriage is also a 'covenant,' however, since I entered into it as a Christian under the auspices of the Presbyterian Church. I love my husband dearly, and I don't believe that G-d intends for this marriage to be broken. With that thought in mind, I am doing my best to maintain shalom bayit, even though it means compromising on something important to me.

The other oy from the film, to match the joy, was the thought occurring to me at the end when Sam says he recited a bracha before going to Bubbe's apartment: sigh "I wish I had a Jewish husband..."

I'm not entirely certain why my life has taken this turn, but I hope there's some purpose, or at least a positive outcome, to all this emotional Laffy-taffy I'm feeling subjected to!

With all those thoughts out of the way, I'm looking forward to Shabbat this week! I wish everyone Shabbat Shalom. :)

Jews, History, and Me

You sometimes hear about women pitting their education and career choices against their home and family choices. There's a fear of being "Mommy-tracked" instead of "fast tracked." Then on the other hand, there are those who choose "sequencing"...meaning rather than having it all, they choose to have it one at a time, or take a break while the children are little. I am one of those mothers, in a way.

I got married and had children soon after high school, since I had no idea what I would do with my life or what to study if I were to go on to college. Although I might have been able to receive scholarships, and certainly student loans, I couldn't see saddling myself with debt without purpose.

After having a child, I decided that I would begin my college career and become a teacher. It seemed like a sensible choice, since teachers are always in demand, and since I had always done childcare. I am at the point now that I'm completely unsure if I want to teach, or whether I'm in fact able to teach. Teaching is a profession which requires patience and "sticktoitiveness" which I often lack, and I would not want to bear the burden of having sucked some student's interest in learning dry because I was a horrible teacher.

However, because I'm halfway through working toward my bachelor's degree on a part-time basis (nearly 5 years now, with one year sabbatical after having a second child), I feel I should try to persevere. After all, I may well change my mind after doing observation and practicum (or it may simply solidify my belief that I can't hack it), but I'll never know till I try.

To this end, I am a history student at present. Before beginning my long journey into Judaism, I didn't notice Jews in history very much beyond the Holocaust. Jews just didn't seem to be that prevalent outside ghettos, the Black Death, pogroms, and Nazism. Now that I'm in history classes again (and I will be for some time to come: I'm majoring in history with a minor in education), I notice so much more when Judaism is mentioned...and when it is conspicuously absent. Not only that, but when Jews are mentioned, I feel my internal ears perking up...what? Me? Us? This is truly becoming my people, my history. This makes it that much harder to hear about the pogroms, the blood libels, the ghettos, the Holocaust...but at the same time, I feel more strongly than ever "Never Again!" I'm also that much prouder of Jewish history, and look forward to learning more all the time. I may even make the focus of my senior thesis something related to Jewish History. I'm looking forward to that as well!

I could use some help

I'm sure I've mentioned in past posts that I'm a military spouse. My husband is preparing for a deployment in the not-too-distant future, and I have to admit that I'm not usually the best at handling bad situations. I tend to fuss and fight it as long as possible before I finally relax and let what will be, be.

Unfortunately, that relaxing is even harder to find when I don't have a strong faith or community behind me to "catch" my fall. Although I know I could speak with my rabbi, and he has told me repeatedly he's more than willing to be a sounding board as well as a source of wisdom...somehow I just can't find it within me to burden him with my personal troubles beyond those occasioned by conversion. This doesn't speak well of me as a person, I'm sure. I don't know if it's pride, fear of showing weakness, or fear of being rejected for being too flawed. Of course, talking about it in a forum like this makes it seem even more ridiculous that I'm afraid to open up to my rabbi about my struggles.

I suppose it's sort of a "super Jew" complex: I want to be the "perfect" convert. I want to know all the answers, I want to parrot the right responses, feel the right emotions, and be the "right" person. Because Jewish conversion is not an "I accept you" conversion, but a "will you accept me" conversion, it makes it that much more difficult to want to show vulnerability to others. Why would anyone in the Jewish community want me to be a part of it? I seem to be a needy woman who doesn't have much to give. What can I give to Klal Yisrael? I ask myself that repeatedly, and come up blank. There are more than enough learned Jews. Since my children will not be converting (at least not until they are adults and able to convert of their own free choosing), I can't offer a new line to add to the Jewish lineage. I am not coming as a counterpart to a Jewish man, I am coming alone as a woman.

I hope I find myself more grounded once this deployment gets underway than I am feeling right now as it approaches.

Christianity and Judaism, Scriptural Interpretation

Look at the NT based on the OT. There are parallels that are apparent once sought and studied. Prophecies and statements in the Old Testament were made realized in the New Testament.

Of course if a newly evolving “religion” wanted to sway believers that they are the inheritors of an existing belief with over 12 centuries of collective prophetic experience, they just might do everything possible to “spin” the facts described in their newly evolving literature to appear to match the expectations hinted at in the prophetic scripture of the targeted religion.

I’ve said it many times. Christianity (and in many ways Islam as well) are offshoots of Judaism. All the content they profess to teach their believers are teachings regurgitated from Judaism. They are locked in a love/hate relationship. Love in that their message is a message borrowed from another. Hate in that they can never truly superseded the other without negating the very source of their own legitimacy.

By: Yoel Ben-Avraham on May 25, 2007
at 8:27 am
Found in a comment on this blog.

I know that with all the reading I've done, I'm sure to have picked up many ideas and thoughts along the way which I can't attribute to any one person, but which did not come about through my own reasoning. This is one of the downfalls of reading such a large amount of information all the time: it's very difficult to hang onto or sort out everything that has been digested. However, even though I can't claim to have come up with the idea stated above, I feel that it is very true.

At some point I saved the link to Yoel Ben-Avraham's blog Second Thoughts. Today I had a little extra computer time and chose to check out this blog I had favorited. Looking over some old posts, I found a link to Jeremiah Andrew's blog where Yoel Ben-Avraham had posted several responses, one of which is the one quoted above.

It only makes sense that a new religion would borrow from other established religions. As I told a friend once, I believe there is something to be learned from all religions. Religions most similar to my own upbringing are most interesting to me, probably on the basis of familiarity. Of course it is easy to study Islam without feeling particularly drawn to convert to it. There are many things about Islam which I respect but do not believe in, not the least that Muhammed was a prophet sent by G-d who apparently had all the right answers. (I know I'm simplifying a lot, forgive me.) However, Judaism, with the backbone Tanakh on which the New Testament of the Christians is based, is much more compelling. Of course both religions have evolved over the centuries since the founding of Christianity, and Judaism itself was involved in an evolution of theology and thought even before that. How can a Christian not see that in essence they have stolen another's sacred text and are twisting it to their own ends?

Of course anyone will change anything to suit their needs or their viewpoint; this is what interpretation of scriptures is all about, and is inescapable. I, for instance, read the verses against boiling a kid in its mother's milk. From this I draw the conclusion that one should not doubly insult a mother by first killing her young, and then adding insult to injury, taking her milk and using it to create a dish of her baby. Thus to me it might be understandable that a cheeseburger (since one does not know from which cow the milk for the cheese nor the meat from the hamburger came) is treif, non-kosher. On the other hand, I can't quite see why chicken parmesan would be treif. A chicken does not give milk, thus adding cheese to it is not rubbing salt in the wound. However, the rabbis deem it so, and so it is. Perhaps the rabbis felt barnyard animals hung together, I don't know.

All this to say, I felt Yoel Ben-Avraham made a compelling argument for the genesis of the give and take between a parent religion and its offspring.

Klops...YUM!

Chaviva posted a picture of the klops she made a few weeks ago. They looked so delicious I asked her to share the recipe, which she was kind enough to do. :)

I have to say, they are absolutely delicious! Even my husband thinks so. And bonus, save this recipe for next year: They are kosher l'Pesach! :)

Ready for the oven...


And coming out...






In case anyone would like it, here is the recipe:

Klops

Eastern European Sweet-and-Sour Meatballs


Meatballs
1 lb ground beef
1/4 C minced onion
1/4 C water
1/4 C matza meal or breadcrumbs
1 large egg, beaten lightly
1 tsp salt
Ground black pepper to taste

Sauce
1/2 C sugar
2 C boiling water
1 C peeled, seeded, chopped tomatoes
1/2 C chopped onion
1 tsp sour salt or 3 to 4 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp salt
Ground black pepper to taste

1. To make the meatballs: Combine the meat, onion, water, matza meal/bread crumbs, egg, salt, and pepper. Moisten hands with water (to prevent sticking) and shape the meat mixture into 1-inch balls.

2. To make the sauce: Melt the sugar in a larger saucepan over low heat until light brown. Gradually stir in the water. Add the remaining sauce ingredients and simmer for 5 minutes.

3. Add the meatballs, cover, and simmer over low heat, or transfer to a casserole and bake in a 300-degree oven, for 1 1/2 hours.

Note: Sour salt is another name for citric acid crystals. They are used in some northern countries, where citrus fruits are rare, as a substitute for lemon.

I have books!

I know, it's positively ridiculous, but I am
thrilled, ecstatic, bouncing off the walls with excitement...in other words, a shipment of books from Amazon came in today. :)

I have tried to read as many Intro to Judaism books from my local library as possible, but some are just not to be found. Not surprising, considering many people in this area don't even believe there are Jews here. However, I have picked some titles which I would like to own and ordered them through the bookstore on JewsByChoice.org If you haven't found this wonderful resource for converts to Judaism, I hope you'll check them out! The articles cover a fairly wide range of Jewish and Jewish-by-choice topics, there is a forum available (which is not used often right now, I might add...please come start a conversation!), and there is this bookstore run through Amazon.com which helps support the website. Please buy from them, if you're interested in the titles they carry!

My specific shipment this morning held Rabbi Joseph Telushkin's Biblical Literacy and Daniel B. Syme's The Jewish Home. I am looking forward to reading both of these titles, and maybe you'll soon see them added to the sidebar list I have going.

Long Time Gone

If you're a Dixie Chicks fan, you'll know the title reference. All others may feel free to look it up at their leisure.

Do you ever feel that something just doesn't fit? Maybe you've started to wonder if you will ever fit anywhere. Well, as a blonde, Southern, country, formerly diehard Christian who wants to convert to Judaism, I can empathize. Sometimes Judaism seems so right for me...but that's only when I'm considering myself. Most of the time, it is feeling not-quite-right to very-wrong: not quite right in that I don't quite fit with the local synagogue crowd. Very wrong in that my husband and children are not only Gentiles, but Christians. Born-again, baptized Christians who love Jesus, love "Jesus Loves Me" to be sung to them, love to read about Jesus.

And then there's me. Confused, alone, torn in what feels like a million directions. Who is G-d? Who was/is Jesus of Nazareth, Yeshua? Who was/is/will be Moshiach? Where do I fit in all of this?

For Mother's Day we watched Gentleman's Agreement. The movie stars Gregory Peck as a writer who takes on an assignment to write about antisemitism in post-WWII America. At first he is hesitant because he feels unable to give a better treatment to the situation than had been done dozens of times over before. Then he has a light-bulb moment: he'll be Jewish for as long as it takes to get the material to write his piece. At one point he tells his Jewish boyhood friend not only is passing himself off as a Jew working, it's working a little too well. His mother's doctor reacts disapprovingly when he asks to be referred to a Jewish doctor at Mount Sinai or Beth Israel hospitals, his new fiance reacts poorly to the idea and argues over whether they should continue the charade in front of her sister and her friends, and most hurtful of all, his son is called "dirty Jew" and "kike" by the neighborhood kids and runs home crying.

Of course, the movie ends in a positive way, and I've always loved it for some reason. But seeing it now, after beginning the long journey toward Jewishness, it's as if I'm seeing it for the first time. It feels so much more hurtful when one might be the victim, versus the WASP who says, "Oh, how horrible...for you." The situation feels quite a bit different when the shoe is on the other foot, when you can't thank your lucky stars that you were born a Gentile, that your children will never go through that pain because they aren't a minority (or in the case of a convert, related to the minority). It certainly gave me pause.

I suppose I'm just feeling that even though I'm scared for what my choice may do to my family, to my children...I'm feeling that "the rest is a long time gone, and it ain't comin' back again..."

Free Rice...Play!

I was reading archived blogs (yes, I am that bored...and procrastinating as well), and found the link to Free Rice on Tamara Eden's blog. A friend had turned me onto this site because she and I are freaks of nature who enjoyed English class, and she wanted to test my vocab skills.

Well, I have skills, how about you? Test your vocab skills at the site above, and feed hungry people as well. It's free, it's entertaining, it's a learning opportunity, and it's a mitzvah! What could be better?

Who pays for the donated rice?The rice is paid for by the advertisers whose names you see on the bottom of your vocabulary screen. This is regular advertising for these companies, but it is also something more. Through their advertising at FreeRice, these companies support both learning (free vocabulary for everyone) and reducing hunger (free rice for the hungry). We commend these companies for their participation at FreeRice.

If FreeRice has the rice to give, why not give it all away right now?FreeRice is not sitting on a pile of rice―you are earning it 20 grains at a time. Here is how it works. When you play the game, advertisements appear on the bottom of your screen. The money generated by these advertisements is then used to buy the rice. So by playing, you generate the money that pays for the rice donated to hungry people.

Does FreeRice make any money from this?
No, it does not. FreeRice runs the site at no profit.

(From FreeRICE's FAQs.)

Converts and "Who is a Jew?"

Converts to Judaism will probably always face the age-old question of "who is a Jew?" There was a kerfluffle (to put it mildly) over Orthodox conversions by a certain R' Druckman in Israel recently, which only serves as a reminder that even Orthodox conversions may be questioned by certain segments of Jewish society.

Why the issues? Is being a Jew such a wonderful thing that we must worry that the whole world will want in on the action? Is being Jewish really only about bloodlines? Do converts kid themselves about their supposed spiritual presence at Sinai? (Which raises the question, do born Jews kid themselves about that same issue?)

It must be frustrating to be questioned by a rabbi about your reasons for considering conversion, to be questioned by your friends and family, to be discouraged by many of your acquaintances, and to perservere through all the reading, the studying, the acclimating, the Beit Din...only to come through the process, begin to spread your wings and for the first time feel Jewish while doing Jewishly...and have someone effectively spit in your eye by saying "You'll never BE Jewish."

I would beg to differ with someone who argues that. In fact, it seems rather unfair that a convert must work so hard, while other Jews may make the claim solely on their bloodlines, and may not ever darken the door of their local shul. Surely living the ethics, learning and knowing the history and culture, expressing one's kavanah through one's actions, surely this should be the proof that one is Jewish.

Are there not enough antisemites running around that we must have in-fighting between JBBs and JBCs? And in my book, this would go as well for the lashon hara between Reform, Conservative, Orthodox, and anyone else along the spectrum of Jewish practice. Remember the 614th commandment: Do not give Hitler any posthumous victories. Especially coming on the heels of Yom HaShoah, this should give any Jew pause...would Hitler enjoy what you're doing to another? Then don't do it!

Perhaps it's easy for me to make these statements, coming from the outside looking in as I am. But sometimes it takes the outsider to bring a glaring injustice to the family's attention. If so, so be it.

Mental Wrestling is Physically Tiring

I was speaking with my rabbi several months ago. The week before he had asked me several difficult questions about my desire to pursue Judaism, and I had been near tears while expressing my answers. The following week I walked into the Hebrew class calm and in a pleasant mood. After the lesson was through and we were packing our things to leave, he asked how I was doing. When I told him simply, "doing pretty well," he smirked (yes, my rabbi is capable of smirking, as horribly disrespectful as that sounds) and observed that I must have decided to put the mental, emotional, spiritual fight to the side and not think about it. I had to agree with him.

Choosing to stop believing and living in the way you were raised is not easy. Making a decision as to whether that is the right thing or not is even more difficult. I find myself wishing I could let go of this tug-of-war and simply be whatever it is I am meant to be. There are times when my soul cries out for relief, for peace, for G-d to step in and put me on the right path for me. How am I ever to know I am on the right path? Unlike a path through the woods, which can be lost but retraced to restore one to the original way, a life cannot be relived. Once a decision has been made, a path has been chosen, there is no turning back for a "redo" or "do-over." There is no way of knowing which spiritual path is "correct" until one reaches the end and steps over that threshold into what lies ahead. Many times I've wished nothing lay ahead...how easy to fall into a conscious-less slumber, with nothing to answer for and no one to please.

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to believe. I am frightened by my own ignorance, and disempowered by confusion. Will I ever find my way out of this labyrinth I've entered, or will I wander here forever? How can I lead my children if I can't find the way myself?

I am at a loss.

Yom HaShoah -- יום השואה

Observance of Holocaust Remembrance Day began at sunset last night.

The Holocaust was such a mind-boggling occurrence, I don't know that I could ever blog anything that would do justice to those who perished or who survived it. Because of that, I won't try to blog anything at all.

For more information, please go to one of the following sites:


Hanefesh.com

Hatikvah Holocaust Education Center

Yad Vashem

United States Holocaust Memorial Museum

Hmmm...

I was riding down the road today and passed a business sign...one of those with the removeable letters that you can change to read different messages. This one read something along the lines of "I will not leave you orphans. I will come to you. John 14:18." (Of course I just googled this to make sure I was right. ;))

An interesting thing is happening inside me...I read that, and the first thing that popped into my mind was, "Well, he hasn't come yet!" I'm finding that more and more I feel divorced from my conservative Christian roots, and more and more I feel at loose ends. I'm caught betwixt and between...no longer comfortable in the faith of Christianity, not yet comfortable in the heritage of Judaism. Speaking with a friend, I said I felt as though I'm "faking it," because I'm not "really Jewish." I don't know if that's a genuine feeling, or if it's born of my husband repeating it to me so frequently in the past few months. I'm sure it's a bit of both. I want so much to tell my rabbi I'm ready for the next step, ready to begin a true track toward conversion. At the same time, I'm scared stiff. My husband said loudly in a clothing store the other day, "You can't wear that--it's not Jewish enough." In a small town, news travels fast. Not only was I shocked that he was saying something about clothing (what exactly is "Jewish" clothing anymore, anyway? It's not as if I'm considering converting Orthodox that he could say I'm not fitting a dress code!), I was also shocked that he was pointedly doing this in a public place where he was apparently hoping to be overheard. I've told him before that I'm not sure enough in my convictions (or perhaps lack thereof?) to "come out" to everyone that I'm wanting to convert to Judaism. We do live in a small town, and it is predominantly Christian. Unlike what they claim in their dogma, Christians have long memories and are not terribly forgiving, especially when it means their values and beliefs, their veracity, has been questioned. Even in "returning to the fold," if I were to do that, I would forever be a pariah in this area.

Sadly, that's the main reason I'm not "coming out" yet. Interestingly enough, every time I take part in something that reinforces my Judaism (attending the Chanukah dinner, when my daughter and I ended up as part of the broadcast on the evening news, or being seen and possibly heard discussing Judaism and Telushkin with a friend while out in town the other day, for examples), it seems to be something that draws attention to me. I'm not sure if this is meant to "shame" me into turning away, or if it's meant to encourage me to be bolder and take that next step...regardless of what others think.

Honestly, I think I'm reading too much into it. ;) I'm hoping to read through the JPS Tanakh (which I am thrilled to say I own now!), and see if that helps me see things more clearly. I would like to take the Intro to Judaism class that's coming up, but of course want to talk with my rabbi before then.

Would I be more likely to have already begun that by now, or less, if I weren't having to fight tooth and nail for every concession my dear husband has made to me thus far? I wonder...

Absolutely Random Post

In which I carry on about absolutely random things in a stream-of-consciousness style.

I have just finished reading posts from a forum which is full of animus. I realize that people will be themselves, only more so, on the Internet. However, are we all really so touchy over supposed slights against virtual friends? The hatefulness I just wasted time perusing was enough to depress anyone, much less those who were fully involved in tearing each other down. Perhaps Thumper's mother had the right idea after all:

If you can't say something nice, don't say nothin' at all. ~Bambi

And yes, in the interest of full disclosure, I do have those days myself. That's when I enjoy my Shabbat more than usual. It's a chance to clear my head, focus on something beyond my small world, and come back renewed and refreshed.

Moving on, don't you hate when you have ideas for posts, and once you get online you realize you've completely forgotten them? I had several posts over the past week which I was working on developing in my mind...and now I don't have even the ghostly wisps of those thoughts left to discuss. So frustrating!

On Sunday I had the opportunity to meet a fellow convert friend for coffee and a walk around town, which I thoroughly enjoyed. We have both been reading through Telushkin's Jewish Literacy, and with the situations in our families being similar, it was wonderful to be able to discuss things from the book with each other. By the end of our walk, we had to laugh at how often we were saying, "oh, well Telushkin said this about..." or "I think it was in Telushkin where there was this quote..." We decided we've become "Telushkinites:" all we know about Judaism we learned from Telushkin. Of course, not seriously, but I have been debating buying a copy of the book to have as a reference. If you haven't read it, I highly recommend it. We both agreed that Telushkin is highly readable and relateable. Considering the size of the book, and the fact that I plan to tackle "Biblical Literacy" sometime in the near future, I'm very thankful for that!

My friend brought up an interesting point while we were talking. He and my husband knew each other in school, and he is aware of my husband's dislike for my desire to convert to Judaism. He asked me whether my husband might be concerned that if I converted, I might decide that a Christian husband was not right for me any longer, and look for a "good Jewish boy" to marry instead.

Although I appreciate his concern, I doubt that my husband has that particular difficulty in mind when he stands so firmly against my conversion. I think that although he doesn't practice his faith, he still holds strongly to it, and would like me to do the same. I've written before about my concerns for my children and what conversion would mean for them; I believe that's a strong concern of my husband's as well.

After sharing this with my friend, he made the suggestion that I consider not converting, but attending shul as a Gentile. This doesn't sit well with me, because it feels like unfinished business. I'm not sure what exactly is pushing me toward taking that final step in becoming a member of the Tribe, which may be the topic for another post! (Ah, and here we find the secret to proper posting procedure...when a topic for a post comes to mind, WRITE IT DOWN! Or in this case, post it down.)

On a final, random note, I must go fix dinner. My children are hungry and fomenting revolt, starting with tearing up my freshly made bed.

Ah HAH! I knew there was something funny with the matzo...

I was just ambling my way through the J-blogosphere today when I found a post from Jack about The Great Matzah Shortage of 2008. Maybe this is some explanation of why I could not for the life of me find matzah l'Pesach.

LOS ANGELES — To the lengthening list of comestible problems befalling our nation, add this: a matzo shortage.

From coast to coast, a shortfall of the unleavened flat cracker bread eaten by Jews during the eight days of Passover has sent shoppers scurrying from store to store in search of it. On Monday, Allison Mnookin circled the aisles of her local Whole Foods store in San Mateo, Calif., three times. There was no matzo to be found.

“Being out of matzo is like being out of milk,” Ms. Mnookin said. So it was on to Safeway. Nothing. Fearing that the box of stale matzo remaining in her pantry from last year would not cut it, she drove nearly 15 miles to Menlo Park.

Hypothesis: If the shortage had been on gefilte fish, complaints would have been far fewer.
"The reasons behind the matzo shortage range from manufacturing problems, decisions by some stores not to carry the product this Passover and vague talk of a possible work stoppage.

“It seemed like the whole region had a problem getting it in,” said Jason Hodges, a supervisor in the grocery department at a Whole Foods in Miami. A person who answered the phone at a ShopRite in Philadelphia said stores there were sold out, as was the Food Emporium in Briarcliff Manor, N.Y., in Westchester County.

“We heard there was a strike or something,” said the Food Emporium manager, Frantz Baptiste. “The first shipment we had was a month ago, and we never got another one.”

Phone calls and e-mail messages to the largest suppliers of unleavened bread products, Streit’s, Manischewitz and Yehuda, brought no response on Monday, possibly because executives were off for Passover, which began Saturday night.

But Manischewitz officials have said that problems with a new state-of-the-art oven in its only New Jersey plant caused it to scrap this Passover’s supply of Tam Tam crackers, its little six-sided matzo morsels, as well as some less popular matzo varieties.

Trader Joe’s stores opted not to sell Passover matzo this year, as did some Costco stores. “It’s not a huge item for us,” said a Costco spokesman, Bob Nelson."

The problem seemed especially acute in the San Francisco Bay Area. In Palo Alto, Amy Kawadler said she had been told there was no matzo at the Mollie Stone’s Market, which carries a wide selection of kosher food, but she noticed a lone box making its way down a checkout conveyor.

When she inquired about it, the customer “grabbed it and pressed it against his chest and said, ‘This is my matzo,’ ” Ms. Kawadler said. He directed her to the section where one last box, of onion poppy matzo, remained, resting on the back of a bottom shelf. “I ran with my hands in the air, pumping the box in my hand saying, ‘I got the last box of matzo!’ ” Ms. Kawadler said. “It was the talk of our seder.”

New York Times

אבלות

ברוך אתה ה' א‑לוהינו מלך העולם, דיין האמת.

"Blessed are You, LORD, our God, King of the universe, the True Judge."


My aunt passed away this morning after a long illness.

So craving some chametz right now...

Oh, what I wouldn't give for a nice golden brown roll...or a slice of deep-dish pizza...or a nice pound cake!

Yes, I'm trying to avoid the chametz for Passover. We're on day two, and I'm munching on matzo and daydreaming of springier, crustier, flakier, and softer bread foods. ~sigh~ Even though I'm empathizing with those ancient predecessors, I'd really rather be enjoying my usual foods.

Speaking of matzo, we had a nice matzo ball soup from scratch last night, and I'm thinking of trying out a matzo-lasagna recipe (Matzanga?) that I saw last week. Yum, matza layered with tomato and cheeses! That actually sounds pretty tasty. ;)

Where has all the matzoh gone?

Ah, the joys (and oys) of living Jewishly in a small Southern town. I began a search for matzoh a week or two ago, with the start of the Passover sale fliers for the local chain groceries. I knew several simply wouldn't have them...our local Walmart, for instance, used to have a very small amount of shelf space devoted to Manischevitz products, but no more! My mother had an "authentic" Passover seder many years ago, and another chain grocery carried all the necessary ingredients. We had a delicious matzo ball soup, and even hid the afikomen! On thinking about it, though, I doubt she checked to be sure the matzoh was kosher for Passover.

Either way, that store has stopped carrying "ethnic" products as well, beyond the usual Hispanic/Latino offerings. The one store I have happily found which does carry specifically kosher products (Manischevitz, again, for the most part, but who's complaining?), had Hebrew National hotdogs, but no matzoh. I was only able to hold matzoh in my hands after traveling almost an hour away, and still the Streit's egg-and-something-or-other matzoh wasn't kosher for Passover.

What is a girl to do? My husband suggested home-made matzoh. Sadly, it may be a choice of that (quite possibly either under-done or un-Kosher), or an empty space on the seder plate come Erev Pesach.