One day it's there...

Earlier this week I was on a business trip that required me to be on the floor of a manufacturing plant for periods of time throughout a two day period. During this time I didn't wear my tallit katan as a safety issue (and I personally see the point of wearing it to see the tzitzit, so I didn't just tuck them in). I gotta say that I felt weird without it on. After only a few weeks I've really grown attached to the presence and significance of the tzitzit. I found myself reaching down for them on more than one occasion and feeling saddened when they weren't there.

----------------

I'm going to have limited internet access over the next week and a half, so there will be no new posts from me. But, Tuesday I promise to have a new post for both this blog and a new contribution to jewsbychoice.org.

gender, tzitzit and mitzvot

My rabbi finally said something about my tzitzit last night. I stopped in his office after Hebrew to say hi and to catch up a bit since it’s been a while since I’ve really gotten a chance to talk to him. So, he asked about why I decided to wear them (after point out he wasn’t sure he was going to actually say anything at all). I told him about how it related to why I chose to wear my kippah all the time— my tallit is this great physical connection as I strive for holiness on Shabbat and at services and I didn’t think it was something I should think about only on Shabbat or at temple. He pointed out that he’s always seen wearing them as a very Orthodox thing, a very Lubavitch thing; also that he always felt that they were very masculine, while wearing a kippah has been something that women have been dong for many years, at least within the more liberal movements, and entailed some self-expression; that wearing tzitzit more or less meant you were Orthodox. He said it got him thinking about how women could making wearing tzitzit their own, and while the option he came up with (attaching them to handbags??) was a little absurd, I’m glad he is thinking about it. I think, though, that what he is stuck on are traditional ideas of what is masculine and feminine, both in a Jewish sense and a general sense. I’m not saying he is close-minded, but I think that in this case he is just kind of stuck in these ideas. I come from a generation, environment, and educational background that questions gender stereotypes and what is “masculine” and what is “feminine.” My tastes have always run towards what is traditionally considered “masculine,” but that’s not why I like things, it’s just what I like. If I liked the idea of wearing a skirt, if I felt comfortable in it or liked how it looked, I would wear one. But, I don’t. I like pants, and t-shirts, and jeans, and polo shirts. I like my hair short and I like gym shoes. So, when I chose to wear a kippah originally, I didn’t look at it as taking on a masculine custom, but rather a custom that spoke to me. The same about wearing a tallit, and the same about wearing tzitzit. I’m not hung up on what is traditionally “masculine” or what is traditionally only done by the Orthodox. It really goes back to what I view is the very idea of Reform Judaism—you are supposed to educate yourself about the mitzvot, about Judaism, and make educate, thoughtful and informed decisions.

He said something else that had me thinking—that while kippot have become a mode of self-expression and are acceptable among Reform Jews and women, tzitzit are still seen as strictly Orthodox by most people. I feel like as a woman, as a Reform Jew, that wearing tzitzit is not only performing a mitzvah it is also a means of self-expression; I am saying who I am as a Jew, or at least part of who I am. They don’t need to be attached to a brightly colored garment to fall into the category of expression. Self-expression comes in many forms and I think that it is time that Reform Jews and women are able to reclaim this without getting questioned about observing this mitzvah. It’s almost like saying “we’ll support you if you find ways to keep Shabbat, in fact we will applaud you. We will encourage you to wear a tallit or a kippah if you find it a meaningful custom or observance.” And we say this to both men and women. So wouldn’t tzitzit fall under that category? When you see the 613 knots you are supposed to be reminded of the mitzvot. Whether you consider the mitzvot binding or not I think most people can agree that at the very least they are a guide to living a moral and ethical life. So, why shouldn’t wearing something that is a physical and visual reminder that there are these guidelines to living our lives as good people, good Jews, shouldn’t we be encouraged, or at the very least supported in the wearing of them? Man, woman, Orthodox, Reform, aren’t we all bound to live moral and ethical lives? No matter how we view the binding nature of the mitzvot, can we at least agree on that?

In the end, I know that he supports me, even if it is not something that speaks to him. And that is why I respect my rabbi.

משפטים, kashrut, and tzitzit

I decided that watching the State of the Union last night would only piss me off, so instead I read the Torah portion for this week, משפטים (Mishpatim). And I noticed something interesting for the first time. As I mentioned in a previous post, we many times get stuck on early verses, or at other points and don't get through the entire portion. In משפטים I think we usually get caught up in the section about a fight that results in a woman's miscarriage. Last night I got through the entire parashah, including the following:

23:19 You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk.

Now, what caught my interest last night was that this prohibition, while seemingly coming at random, follows a list of how to make sacrifices, or more specifically, what things you can or can't do or bring when making a sacrifice to God. For instance, any sacrifice that includes blood (think of all the dashing of the blood we have later in Leviticus) cannot be offered with leavened bread; you can't leave the fat of the offering lying out overnight; and you should bring the choice first fruits of your soil to God. And THEN we get the prohibition against boiling a kids in its mother's milk. So, is it not possible to extrapolate that this is in reference to offering sacrifices as well? Or conversely, the previous verses have also spoken about Shabbat, the Sabbath year, and the festivals--perhaps this prohibition referred only to those specific times.

----------

I understand part of the reasoning behind kashrut is that it is a way of separating our behavior from our gentile neighbors, to an extent. I think that the lengths which it has been taken to has made it incredibly difficult for many people to follow it perfectly (and as such are discouraged to even attempt to because of the difficulty). It seems to go against common sense to make this a system that so many Jews want to have nothing to do with. I'm not saying that it should be so lax that gentiles and christians adopt it, but especially in our modern world isn't it something that should be amended and revised? Strip away the fences, get back to the root of the original commandments and begin to interpret them in view of our modern understanding of food and Jewish identity. I think my problem with kashrut, at the core, is that it assumes that the wise people, the sages, no longer exist in Judaism. I realize that my views are decidedly Reform, and that's not something I'll apologize for. We have wise Jews today, modern sages, and the interpretation should continue; it shouldn't be stuck in a time that most of us cannot relate to anymore. I feel that it is my duty as a Jew to study, to interpret, and to make decisions for myself. And I love that.

That is one of the reasons I felt good about adopting the mitzvah of wearing tzitzit. I feel a connection to my personal observance, to the miztvot, to my Judaism, and to God, that I most times only feel when I am at temple or praying. I love this physical connection that I have when I wear my tallit during prayer, and I love now having it all of the time. I love that I'm not making a distinction between striving to be holy while I pray and striving to be holy in my daily life. Should my behavior not be the same in and out of shul? If I'm connecting to that part of myself, the part that strives for holiness and a connection to God while I'm at temple, then what am I doing with the rest of my time? Either I'm striving for kedusha or I'm not. And I feel that by donning my tzitzit each day I am taking a small step to make my life holier.

Biennial, Day 2 (personal observations)

So, my 2nd day at the Biennial was definitely better than the first. As I said in the earlier post, I began the day at services, and that was by far the best way to begin the day. I felt energized and ready to go and learn.

My fellow congregants at the Biennial and I went out for lunch with our rabbi and had an excellent time. It was a beautiful day (ah, San Diego weather), so we sat outside at a really good seafood/steak place. I've decided to attempt a kosher diet come the secular new year, beginning with cutting out pork and shellfish, so I figured that since I was in a coastal city I would have some good seafood while I still could. I had a bowl of clam clam chowder and some crab thing and my rabbi's comment was "wow, you have a bowl of treif next to a plate of treif." Ha ha ha. I pointed out to him last week what I'm doing, which he respects, so that's fine. It was amusing though. I did, however, take my kippah off while we ate. While I wear it all the time I do take it off if I am doing something totally non-kosher (like eating pork or shellfish).

I will say this about wearing my kippah at the Biennial: it was awesome to see so many other people, and especially women, wearing them the entire time. I don't imagine that everyone who had a kippah on during those 5 days wears one on a daily basis in their home life, but it was great none-the-less. I even purchased a brand-new Bucharian-style kippah that I normally would not have spent as much money on. But, I justified it b/c it is a) beautiful, b) something I will wear often, and c) cheaper than a new tallit. The number of amazingly lovely tallitot in the vendor hall was ridiculous. I like the tallit I have, it is just white w/ blue stripes, but it is my first and it is special to me. But there were a few that were tempting had they not been way too far out of my price range. So, the kippah and a breast cancer pin in the shape of a chai were my only purchases; I even resisted the book and music store. I was there on a budget and I really tried to stick to it. Considering my congregation helped me out financially, I also couldn't justify spending any more money (even though I didn't have it anyway).

I didn't take into account just how exhausting a convention can be, but by the end of the day of workshops and classes I was tuckered out. I wish I had taken the time to go to the ma'ariv minyan, but I decided instead to head back to the hotel room and take a shower before meeting my temple friends for dinner, which itself was a raucous good time.

I also stopped by the 20/30s reception, which was well-attended and where I met 2 people who went to my college (Oberlin grads can find each other anywhere); and then a quick stop at the GLBT gathering, which was not well-attended, though I did meet a very nice rabbi for a congregation in Florida. I was kind of annoyed at the GLBT reception; it was totally shoved to the very end of the convention center, as if we needed to be hidden away. I mentioned this to the rabbi I met and he said it was because of privacy issues and people not being out, especially rabbis and cantors. I can understand this to an extent, but if we continue to perpetuate the idea that being queer is something that has to be on the fringes we'll never be able to be completely out and in the open. Yes, the Reform movement is very welcoming to queer Jews; yes, we are, as a movement, very committed to equality for all genders and sexual orientations. So don't shove us in a corner at the Biennial! Don't say one thing and do another.