Inspired by a Jewish History paper...

I recently wrote a paper for H252, which is the second semester of Jewish History that focuses on 1492 to modern day Jewish history. When I received the assignment, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it focused on Jewish identity in the Diaspora (mainly North America) versus Jewish identity in Israel, and the challenges that they both face.

A point that I made was that Jewish life and identity in America is more focused on the religious aspect of the religion rather than the culture, while Israeli Jewish identity is largely secular. In the paper, I cited a document that stated that the American is essentially a hyphenated character; i.e. a Jewish-American or an African-American, and there is no such thing as a pure American.

I found the identity of the Israeli Jews to be most interesting. I have interacted with many Israelis in my life, and I am happy to have many Israeli friends. Over the years, I have had many conversations with Israelis about their Jewish identity. When I went to Israel in the Summer of 2005, I was shocked to find that a great number of people identify as secular Jews. Many Israelis have explained this trend by claiming that living in Israel makes their lives Jewish by default, and they do not have to work so hard with the religious aspect to maintain a Jewish identity. While in America, people hold religion very close to Jewish identity- and identify with a specific denomination or movement.

Another interesting point that I came across in my research for my paper is the idea that Jews have a constant feeling of minority status engraved into their cultural memory and identity, regardless of their status in the country. By numbers, Jews may be a minority. However, with regards to impact on life in the Diaspora (especially North America), the Jews are most certainly not a minority.

Just something to ponder...

Interfaith marriage... is it so bad?

Being a successful product of an interfaith marriage (and by successful I mean I have grown up with a strong Jewish identity and I do not identify as anything but Jewish), I feel strongly that people don't give interfaith marriages enough credit. I can see the potential for problems when an interfaith couple does not discuss their intentions for religious observances before they get married or have children, but I believe that it is not as bad as some people make it out to be.

A majority of the interfaith families that I know have done a fantastic job raising their children in a Jewish household. If an interfaith marriage is approached correctly  (and by correctly, I mean they establish a Jewish household- which is correct in my mind), it can be a great way to teach diversity and acceptance. 

The URJ (Union for Reform Judaism) has set up an excellent way to reach out to all "minority" groups within Judaism. The URJ Outreach program provides many resources that are necessary to creating a successful interfaith family. "God loves the stranger, providing food and clothing for each one. You too must love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt" (Deuteronomy 10: 18–19). They use this quote from Deuteronomy in order to sum up the mission of the Outreach program. I think that the Outreach program, itself, is a great way of utilizing Jewish ideas and values to welcome those who otherwise would not be welcomed. However, I do find it strange that Hebrew Union College will not accept or ordain students that are in an interfaith relationship. It seems a bit hypocritical to me.

I think I was hesitant when we went into the class discussion about exogamy, mostly because in the past I have been made to feel inferior because of my interfaith family. However, I was pleasantly surprised with the outcome of this discussion. Exogamy is a very sensitive subject and I understand all sides of the argument, but I find it hard to come to any conclusions myself. I think this is something that will change and develop over time. However, I believe that it is important to keep an open mind about exogamy, because there are many successful stories out there.

No Tam Tams this year?! Kosher for Passover on a college campus

Who would have thought that a tiny cracker could cause so much controversy?!

Come to think of it... I guess this is just another indication of how much food affects one's Jewish identity. Many people will find Passover to be a little less enjoyable without having Tam Tams readily available to nosh on.

The Passover seder, in and of itself, is a great example of the role that food plays in Jewish life, ritual, and identity. It will certainly be an interesting challenge to remain kosher for Passover on campus. From what I have heard, it is no easy task. In the last week or so, I have had several conversations with friends about the approaching holiday and how we are going to handle this food dilemma. Some people are going home for the weekend in order to attend family seders and get kosher for passover food. Being from New Jersey, I don't have the option of hoping in a car and being home in time Passover dinner.

Some people I have talked to have decided that keeping kosher for Passover is going to be too hard at school, and therefore aren't going to do it. This brings up a major conflict in my mind. Kosher, or not kosher... if you attend seders and are involved with Passover in one way or another, are you still observing the holiday? To some, an attempt at keeping kosher for Passover is good enough- it's the thought that counts, right? But to others, there is no other way to observe the holiday than to follow the laws of Passover as they were written.

Curious to see everyone's thoughts...

The Jew in the Bubble

A very interesting, emotional, and intense conversation with a friend inspired me to write this blog. I am sure that some people share the same feelings as I do about this, at least I hope others do...

Sometimes I feel like I grew up in this "Jewish Bubble" of a community. I am sure that this is partially true, just because where I grew up has a very large Jewish population. Cherry Hill, NJ has been referred to by some as the "Jerusalem of NJ" because of how many Jews reside there as well as the diversity you find within the Jewish community. I enjoyed growing up there. I led a very happy life in this Jewish community, and I couldn't have imagined a better place to live. No one really questioned my Jewish identity there, which I definitely took for granted.

It never occurred to me that I would have to defend my choices within Judaism as well as my overall Jewish identity. When I left my safe bubble of Cherry Hill and arrived at this huge school without knowing many people at all, I was shocked when I was confronted with accusations of not being a "Good Jew" (whatever that means) because my house was not Kosher, or because I didn't go to shul multiple times a week. I was brought up in a diverse Jewish community where people were generally understanding of the various denominations. There were a few times that I had to explain why I practiced Judaism the way I did, but I never really had to defend my beliefs.

In some ways I think it is a good thing that I have had to defend my beliefs. It makes me want to learn even more so I can give more intellectual answers to those who question me. But at the same time, I find it pretty discouraging and disheartening that people criticize my practices. I guess it is a part of life, and I am just going to have to get used to it.

What constitutes a "true" Israel experience?

Today's class discussion got me thinking a lot about my experience in Israel.

I went to Israel in the summer of 2005 with 98 people from my camp, URJ Camp Harlam, on NFTY's L'dor V'dor/Exodus Trip (almost the same trip as the NFTY Safari that was discussed in the ethnography we read) and upwards of 570 participants overall. The trip consisted of three parts: First we flew to the Czech Republic and spent four days in Prague where we learned about the Jewish community there and visited Terezin (A deportation camp from the Holocaust, and camp where the poem "The Last Butterfly" was written). Then we flew to Cyprus where we boarded a boat and spent three days traveling across the Mediterranean. During our "cruise" (if you can call it that) we re-enacted the Exodus mission and got to learn a lot about the first pioneers and Zionists to land in Israel. And the third part was four weeks in the actual country of Israel. During the month spent in Israel, I had the opportunity to travel the country according to the historical chronology. I hiked Masada at sunrise, floated in the dead sea, hiked 50+ miles from the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) to the Mediterranean, spent a night in a Bedouin tent, experienced Jersualem, and much more.

I think that my Israel trip was the perfect way that I could have experienced Israel for the first as a 16 year old with a strong connection to Judaism. Despite what was said in class, I believe that these Israel programs do provide the participants with great experiences. I can understand why some may see these programs as being very "cookie cutter" and "idealistic" views of life in Israel, but I am not sure that is the point of these trips. I certainly did not expect to go to Israel for a month and come out of my trip understanding what life in Israel was like. I was expecting to experience the country for what it has to offer, even if that means doing it in your typical "tourist" ways. I don't think my trip would have been as meaningful, or left me dreaming of the day that I can return to Israel, if I had been living the day to day life of an Israeli citizen as my first experience with the country. Unlike the group in the ethnography we read... I went, I saw, and I remember almost everything. Sure, a few details may be fuzzy- I cannot tell you what I did all day every day- but I can tell you that I came out of my trip feeling more connected to my Jewish life than ever before, and I still have that feeling.

Well, that was my two cents. Take it or leave it, I just needed to get my thoughts out there.

Prove your identity...

How Do You Prove You're a Jew?

This article brings up a very interesting question and addresses something that does not settle well with me in regards to Israel. I could not imagine having to prove to a court of Orthodox Rabbis that I am in fact Jewish.

In some ways, I think that the idea of having to prove your Jewish identity in order to be married in Israel can be a good thing. It promotes the advancement and growth of the Jewish people. But at the same time I think that many people, including myself, may feel like they are not welcome in Israel because of their background. The fact that the clergy members I grew up looking up to, learning from, and being inspired by are not considered to be Rabbis in my "religious homeland" is a bit unsettling to me. The thought of making aliyah is almost completely out of the question for me at the moment, simply because I know that my religious choices and practices are not recognized by the Israeli government.

Overall, my question is... how "Jewish" is this concept of making one prove that they are "Jewish enough" to have their marriage recognized or to live in the land of Israel? What every happened to the mitzvah of welcoming the stranger?

I hope this blog entry made sense to someone. I wish I could better put into words how I feel about this whole idea, but I am at a loss at the moment.

The Very Rigid Search

Being a big fan of Jonathan Safran Foer's writing, I was ecstatic when I looked at the syllabus and saw that we were assigned to read "The Very Rigid Search." This story is the basis for one of my all time favorite books, Everything is Illuminated. After reading the short story, I couldn't help but wonder what it was that made this an outwardly Jewish piece of literature. I know that we discussed it in class today, but I don't know if I still have a good understanding of what makes this story "Jewish."

Ok, so the character "Jonathan Safran Foer" is a Jewish man who is looking to find the home of his Grandfather in a small shtetl in Ukraine. I get that his Jewish roots are what brought him on this "rigid search" to begin with, but is there anything in the actual story that makes it Jewish? Safran Foer wrote in the notes about the story that when he looks at it, he sees the writing of a Jewish author. Maybe I am missing an undertone of Jewish values or some message that promotes Judaism in some way, but I think that overall the story can go either way. I guess I can understand why this story was included in a collection of Jewish short stories by Jewish authors (the book is called Lost Tribe, I suggest everyone looks into it, I have read some pretty good stories that are found in that book), but I don't know if it could be considered a Jewish story overall.

I guess I am just curious to see what everyone else thinks about it. Has anyone found anything outwardly Jewish about this story?