Gone But Not Forgotten.

There are many experiences and feelings of the Holocaust which I cannot even imagine; The suffering is just too much to comprehend. But there are thoughts I have, as I try to put myself in the mindset of a person watching as their entire community is extinguished. I think of being barred from certain industries, of losing my job along with countless other Jews. I picture my synagogue and my beloved Milt's with the windows smashed in after a night like Kristallnacht. Where once I donned a Star of David necklace as a badge of pride--I'm Jewish!--now it is forced on me as a marker of something shameful. People I had considered friends or at least friendly no longer look at me or speak to me. Signs go up: No Jews Allowed. Who among us would see what was happening, and who would be in denial? After generations in this country, they would not turn on us now. Would they?

This is how it happened. Remembering the Holocaust is not just about mourning those lost, though we do grieve them. It is about teaching the world how it happened, how Hitler did not invent anti-Semitism but stirred it up, step by hateful step. When we say, "Never Again," we are cognizant that events may never exactly replicate what happened in Europe last century, but that we must be on guard against the kind of rhetoric that preceded them.

The morning after the day I converted to Judaism, I was on my way to work, back to my usual routine despite my elation over finally being a Jew. As the 151 turned onto Lake Shore Drive, I noticed a group of people speaking animatedly in German and pointing toward the view of Lake Michigan. I smiled as they filed past me a few stops later, always grateful for a refreshed perspective on my beautiful city. And then I saw it. The swastika on the younger girl's messenger bag. If I thought that my Jewish existence would be free from persecution, here was a reminder that embers of hatred still existed and could always be stoked again.

I wonder if they thought it was the end. I wonder if they asked if the world knew. I wish I could show them everything: How much we know, how we are working to ensure it won't happen again, how Jewish life has not only continued but flourished, how we made it back home. I want them to see every beautiful Jewish baby that has been born. I want them to know about people like me, who are choosing Judaism even after the Holocaust, how we answer with a resounding "Yes!" from the mikveh when the Rabbi asks if we understand that we may be persecuted as Jews. I want to tell them: You are not my blood relatives, but you are my people. You are not forgotten. We will never forget.

No Going Back.

In Plato's Allegory of the Cave, Socrates imagines a prisoner who breaks free from the cave where he has been held with other unfortunates, where a lack of both light and perspective have created a false reality. Such a man, the philosopher posits, would at first resist the truth once it was revealed to him. Sunlight would be blinding; so much so that his initial instinct would be to return to his former familiar captivity.

Incredulously, we read the kvetching of the Israelites to Moses after the Exodus. Under the Egyptians, they experienced hardships beyond imagining, backbreaking work for no pay, even infanticide. And yet, at the first hint of the unfamiliar, the people are ready to run back to that existence. In spite of witnessing firsthand the miracles that led them to freedom, they find it difficult to trust G-d with the little things.

How much more so for us, who can only dream about the parting of the Red Sea. There's an old saying, "The devil you know..." about our tendency to stay in comfort zones that we know are bad for us, but that are just so comfortable. As a convert, I have felt exactly like the prisoner in Plato's tale; ignorance really was bliss in so many ways. But like that protagonist, and like my spiritual ancestors in the desert, turning back was never really an option. A taste of freedom, whether for the mind, body, or both, only increases over time. The human spirit longs for growth, for challenges to overcome, even when the road ahead is daunting.

Don't just make Pesach about cleaning or shopping or burning out on macaroons. Which deserts did you cross in the last year? Which oppressive habits will you leave behind in the months to come, marching bravely and brazenly into the unknown future?

Onwards and upwards, my fellow Jews. Chag Kosher V'Sameach!
cbg

The Feminist Mistake.

I'm so happy and honored to be back at LadyMama with a new post, this time to discuss my beef with the feminist definition of "empowerment," and how Judaism has shown me what it truly means to be a strong woman. Let me know what you think!

cbg

Ideals and Idols.

Parshat Ki Tisa has always been one of my favorites: There's the precedent of counting the Jews by their contributions, not their numbers; a call to eat with compassion with the prohibition against combining milk with meat; a reminder of what a gift Shabbat is; and of course, the golden calf dramz.

I once read a commentary which said that when Moses descended from the mountain and witnessed the worship of the idol, he did not smash the tablets in a temper tantrum. Rather, he understood that if the people felt they needed an intermediary between them and G-d to replace the MIA Moses, then they would only turn the mitzvot into idols as well. According to the Talmud (Shabbos 87a), G-d Himself affirmed that Moses had done the right thing, so we can see a clear distinction between this incident and the one that resulted in Moses not being allowed to enter the Promised Land.

It would be great if we could say Moses' concerns were completely resolved in the forty day period before he received the second set of tablets, but fast forward a few thousand years and some change, and unfortunately, there's still some major mitzvah worship going on. Instead of each Jew utilizing the mitzvot to connect to G-d and set an example of a G-dly life, they uphold a certain few (and only their interpretation of them, no less) as an end-all, be-all form of Judaism. I do not believe that Moses brought down the Torah so that any one Jew could zero in on and obsess over one particular thing and ignore all other aspects of their neighbor. In keeping with the mitzvah of giving someone else the benefit of the doubt, let's presume that every Jew is better than us in at least one aspect of Judaism, and know that the Jewish people—and the world—are better for it. In this way, we will learn not to worship idols in any form, and only then can the sin of the golden calf be fully rectified.

Shavua tov,
cbg

I Don't CY.

I've been wondering recently why the self-discipline that allows me to keep kosher throughout the year and avoid anything leavened like the plague during Pesach doesn't carry over into resisting the sweets that I have such a weakness for. I even caught myself wishing that there could be some kind of rabbinical ban that would help a girl out--and then I realized that there sort of already is: Cholov Yisrael.

As I was converted by one of the primary students of R Moshe Feinstein, z"tl, and I have heard many wonderful stories about him, he is someone whom I attempt to emulate (emphasis on attempt). If such a tzaddik trusted in the USDA, who am I to doubt them? Still, I can't help but think of all of the corruption within federal agencies that has been revealed via the media, which I'm quite sure is only the tip of the iceberg. And to add to my confusion, I cannot deny that I'm not exactly coming to the CY table with admirable motives. I'm not striving to further my bond with my fellow Jews, or to erect a fence around the Torah; I'm really just trying to put an obstacle course between Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and my mouth, for purely superficial reasons. Is this an acceptable rationale to take on a stringency?

I'm interested in hearing different perspectives on this issue, and why anyone has or has not taken on Cholov Yisrael. Until I can make up my mind-slash-be convinced, I'll be hanging with my boys Ben & Jerry (Mmmmm).

cbg

Ignoring Valentine's Day.

For my non-Jewish friends and family, it makes sense that I don't celebrate Xmas or Easter. But when it comes to holidays such as Halloween, St. Patrick's Day, or the one with hearts and flowers just around the corner, they get confused. "It's just _____," I hear a lot.

Forget for a moment that all of these have Catholic origins, because it's not what most people are thinking of when they dress up, drink green beer, or hand out valentines. Before Judaism, I went along with it all like everyone else. I pretty much lived for Halloween. But a funny thing happened on the way to becoming a Jew. As I began taking on holidays that were rich with tradition and meaning, the ones that have become so secularized and commercialized suddenly seemed less appealing. I don't refuse to acknowledge non-Jewish holidays out of stubbornness; I just don't care to anymore.

Still, there's no denying that V-Day is all about love, and, as my loved ones love to point out, isn't that Jewish? Well, yes and no. Judaism has nothing against love and romance, and neither do I, for that matter. In fact, just to quell any cynics, there is indeed someone special in my life right now, and it reinforces my stance more than ever. I don't want to go through any cliched motions with him—who made these rules? And I certainly don't want any of my single friends to feel for one minute like less than the beautiful, kind, and wonderful people that they are. So let's stop trying to cram love into a single day, or to relegate it to specific colors or gestures. The love that I know, the kind that Judaism espouses, is an ongoing celebration expressed in a multitude of ways. Just take a cue from G-d:

"I love you with an everlasting love, therefore I continue my lovingkindness to you." - Jeremiah 31:2

Happy Thursday,
cbg

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