Why I Watch Movies & TV.

Choosing to become a Jew is sort of like deciding to be a doctor, based on what I've seen in friends' experiences and on Grey's Anatomy. Getting through the arduous process and taking a serious oath is only half of it; there is also the difficult task of narrowing down what kind of Jew/doctor you'll be. Within medicine, choosing a label may make things pretty black and white, e.g. neurosurgeon=operating on brains. And that also holds true for some Jewish movements, which come with clear community norms on what to do and what not to do, even if it goes beyond basic halacha. Since I was determined to take on observance while still living a modern life, however, I had to examine my choices within the context of my new perspective without having a knee-jerk reaction from either side. Meaning, I wasn't going to give up TV and movies solely because some Rabbis were strongly opposed to them, but I also wanted to consider any valid reasons to keep them in my life rather than just continuing to do what I'd always done.

I came to the conclusion that just as with all areas of my life, I couldn't operate in extremes. I wanted my Judaism to be strong enough to withstand any challenges to it, in real life or otherwise. I've definitely become much more choosy in what I watch, but I find that my favorite shows and films have stayed the same; who knew they were resonating with me on a spiritual level? With that in mind, I'd like to present a few Jewish lessons derived from the screen.

The Gift of Time: Groundhog Day. So many of us take for granted this mechanism which allows us to measure progress, achievement, a life. Bill Murray in his brilliance reminds us that each new day is a gift, and to be careful when stepping off the curb. It's a doozy!

Jewish Hospitality: What About Bob? Another Murray gem. Every one of us will be faced with a less-than-desirable houseguest at least once, but as this movie teaches, we can't only be kind to the people we actually like being around. We always have the opportunity to make a difference in someone else's life.

Beshert: Serendipity. I for one would rather be single than have a tool of a fiance who plays some weird flute for a living. But neither I nor Kate B. have to despair, because our soulmates are out there. Timing is everything.

The Damage of Lashon Hora: "Gossip Girl." Let's all pour out a little Manischewitz for the loss of our homie, GG. Actually, let's not, because it was DAN HUMPHREY. But I digress...everyone on the UES would have had much better lives if they all would have just stopped trashing each other on a gossip site. A bubble of superficial values is conducive to such behavior, but we Jews have the responsibility to use the Internet as a tool for unity. Let's not forget it.

You know you love me (because I'm a fellow Jew).
xoxo
cbg

Thoughts on Nechemya Weberman.

The recent hype surrounding the Nechemya Weberman trial brought to light a term that I had certainly never come across in my conversion studies: Mesirah, the Rabbinic prohibition against informing on a fellow Jew to non-Jewish authorities that will likely result in excessive punishment. A brief overview of Jewish history puts this ban in its proper context; if another Jew stole from you, would you report it to a Roman or a Russian, or would you let the Rabbis handle it? In the present-day United States, with a judicial system built largely on Jewish principles, it gets more difficult to justify hushing up illegal activity, particularly when the victims are a community's most vulnerable members.

One of the many revolutionary ideas that the birth of Judaism introduced is the concept of linear time. The surrounding polytheistic cultures based their beliefs off of nature, which included time. History, they conjectured, must go in cycles, just as seasons do. This belief represented not only a limited understanding, but a limiting one; why seek to improve anything if everything will just stay the same anyway? I'd even be so bold as to argue that the progresses of cultures which stemmed from Judaism (the Christian West, the Islamic East) paid tribute to time in continuous form, especially in comparison to the stagnant state of the pagan Native Americans. Most of the modern world references Common Era and Before Common Era, a year zero designated by the birth of a Jewish man. Before then, a calendar depended on whichever part of the world you were in and ruler you were under, as emperors, pharaohs, and kings liked to hit the reset button once they came to the throne.

So why do some Jewish communities insist upon acting as though no progress has been made, as though they are still stuck in the shtetl and the next pogrom could come at any moment? On an individual or collective level, to dwell on the past to an extent that it prevents you from moving forward is a tragedy. And we absolutely must acknowledge that a society which espouses certain Jewish values and ethics, e.g. punishing murderers, protecting animals against cruelty, and awarding monetary damages for injuries sustained, is one in which we should fully participate, not shun.

The second issue I'd like to address is that of Chillul Hashem, a term that was thrown around to decry the embarrassing spotlight that had landed on Orthodox Jews. Such complaining only reminds me of Lindsay Lohan or Kanye West: Why won't the goyim let us be great? Judaism holds that major advancement in technology is a step toward the Messianic Age, but right now we are in the Age of Information. To that end, anything that can be made public will be made public, and it turns out Hashem wouldn't have it any other way. As the Talmud states, "Rabbi Yochanan ben (son of) Beroka said, 'Whoever desecrates the Name of Heaven in secret will be paid back in public.'" The much revered Rashi took it a step further and claimed that G-d delivers punishment in such a way that makes evident the desecration committed in private.

The Jews have undoubtedly been victims of persecution since the beginning of, well, time as we introduced it. But if we make "Jews are always victims" the official party line, not only do we misrepresent Judaism and G-d by refusing to take responsibility for our actions (and what, pray tell, is the point of the mitzvot except to own up to our deeds), but we act as though G-d does not exist. As a Jew, I don't believe in coincidences. I know that life is a constant dance between the gift of free will and G-d's omnipotence, and I trust that His Will is always carried out, one way or another. Nechemya Weberman had the opportunity as a Rabbi to bring more light into the world and to make G-d's presence apparent, but he instead chose to commit a heinous act. As the above passage from the Talmud makes clear, the very public trial was not a shanda but a humbling reminder that there is no hiding from G-d. May we, the Jews, the people whose continued existence defies all rational explanation and can only be attributed to the Divine Hand, always remember it.

cbg