November 26, 2007 by Mel Weiss
Sometimes, you see things that smack you in the face so hard you can’t even say anything for a while. The recent Saudi case revolving around the gang rape of a nineteen-year-old girl, for example. The girl was sentenced to 200 lashes. (She had violated Saudi gender-segregation laws.) Yeah. Saudi women are protesting, but the ruling has to be overturned.
One thing that caught my attention about the reportage of the protests was the emphasis Saudi activists (and normal people everywhere) placed on the real distance that this insanity is from the Islam they know and embrace. I’m a huge fan of the religious-minded and center-to-left-leaning combination. (Of course, this can easily slide into the insincere and creepy, but that’s politics.) And center-to-left practicing Muslims don’t have the political muscle they need, yet, which makes it feel even more important to notice, encourage and really appreciate public protests like these.
So when I read Katha Pollitt’s amazing column in a recent issue of The Nation, I was a little disappointed that she didn’t mention Irshad Manji. (Read the column, though! It’s a rare columnist who can really reassess a very critical and deeply-entrenched part of her M.O.—in Katha’s case, her adamant secularism—and admit that it’s not always the best way to get things done. She’s awesome.) In the interest of full disclose, I first heard about Irshad Manji reading Lilith. But then Jewish feminism has one hundred percent been my door into both the theories of religious lefty-ism and the middle of people who continue to create it. And although I know I can (and often do) ramble on endlessly about the separation of church/synagogue/mosque/etc and state, at this moment, I think there’s nothing more powerful than religious women of all affiliations standing together to say, “We love and respect religiousness. But this is bullshit.”
Even though my government other governments that do, and other fun things.
Oh, and a quick request: I have been sourcing the internet for local protests to go to, even online petitions to sign. I’ve got nothing, which is kind of terrifying. Where is everyone on this? Have we all–feminist organizations included–so thoroughly given up on Muslim-extremist governments? If anyone knows of protests or petitions, please leave the information below. I’ll be updating as I find things, or get fed up and create one.
–Mel Weiss
November 21, 2007 by admin
Black Friday is almost upon us – the ultimate day of turkey-stuffed, American consumerism that immediately follows Thanksgiving and sounds the holiday shopping season’s starting gun. The stores are ready – a Dunkin’ Donuts ad in this morning’s paper urges readers to “jump start your holiday savings” with a buy-one-get-one-free Latte (of equal or lesser value of course). But the question is, are we ready?
There’s nothing wrong with showing love through gifts, and there are certainly ways to give presents in a meaningful, sustainable way (like baking someone a beautiful loaf of bread, re-gifting gently used books, or buying eco-friendly presents like the ones suggested at The Jew & The Carrot’s Sustainable Chanukah Gift Guide).
But for anyone who prefers not to partake in the frenzied accumulation of plastic bags holding plastic stuff on Black Friday, there’s “Buy Nothing Day” – a concept created by a Vancouver-based artist and promoted by the anti-consumerism magazine Adbusters. Nothing Day advocates abstain from spending any money on Black Friday.
Hmmm…somehow that sounds familiar. Where have I heard of people abstaining from purchasing anything on a given day before? Ah yes, Shabbat.
Shabbat, I think, is the prototype for Buy Nothing Day. It’s Jewish tradition’s weekly antidote to thoughtless over-consumption. Of course not all Jews observe the buy nothing (and for that matter drive nowhere, email no one, and don’t work) aspects of Shabbat. But how profound would it be if everyone – Jew and otherwise – took one day a week to “say no” to the computer, to their errands and to-do lists? How profound to simply celebrate with their friends and family through eating and singing together? My blessing for this Thanksgiving is that we all set aside more opportunities in our lives to truly exist and recharge – without buying the entire sale rack at The Gap.
Happy Thanksgiving!
—Leah Koenig
The views and opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of Lilith Magazine.
November 19, 2007 by admin
It is generally taken as a given in our politically correct age that clergy of one religion are supposed to respect the norms of the other religion and not interfere in internal dogmatic affairs. This is the principle that allows for interfaith dialogue, the open expression of religious perspectives without the fear of judgment or ridicule from other religions (at least not in public).
So was it wrong for Rabbi Susan Talve of the Central Reform Congregation (CRC) in St. Louis to allow two Catholic women to be ordained as priests, in direct opposition to established Church doctrine, in her temple’s sanctuary?
Talve has said her decision, unanimously approved by CRC’s board, “was based on its values of providing a sukkat shalom, or shelter of peace to the women seeking a religious venue,” and on hachnasat orchim, hospitality. But welcoming these particular guests was a politically charged action, and we would be naive to not read more into the decision.
What Talve and the CRC did was a huge slap in the face to the established Catholic Church. Disregarding a basic tenet of their faith was a clear violation of the basic respect between clergy of different faiths.
On the other hand, it’s a matter of which clergy they’re choosing to respect. Insomuch as the Catholic women now consider themselves to be priests, and are clearly part of a reform movement within the Church, Talve has chosen to ally herself with that particular group of Catholics rather than with the “orthodox” establishment. And how could she not? As a woman who is a rabbi, she makes her livelihood off of the very same challenge to established religious doctrine that the women-priests are attempting. To deny them aid would be a slap in the face to the cause for women’s equality in religion. It makes sense that, as a Reform rabbi, she would be loyal to the progressive elements within Catholicism rather than to the “orthodox” ones.
What’s more puzzling, to some troubling, about this incident is the fact that Talve allowed a Catholic religious ritual to be conducted in a Jewish sanctuary. Belief in one religion traditionally depends on the belief that the other religions are wrong, or at the very least that one religion operates distinctly from the others. The more subversive part of Talve’s and the women-priests actions is challenging those distinctions. When it comes to traditional notions of religion, that is the biggest slap in the face of all.
–Rebecca Honig Friedman
November 19, 2007 by Mel Weiss
According to a recent article from the AP, Democrats place the final cost of these wars (in Iraq and Afghanistan) at $1.6 trillion—roughly twice what the White House has requested thus far. This is upsetting and of itself, but while mulling it over, I found a copy of a new book, The Victory Gardens of Brooklyn, in the Lilith offices. The book itself is a novel, but it reminded me how much I’ve always loved the story of Brooklyn’s victory gardens—palpable reminders that during World War II, civilians were actively engaged in the war, doing all they could. But what role do ordinary Americans play in our current wars, other than bear the brunt of the debt we’ll be saddled with? Sure, federal funds are being cut for everything from education to environmental protection to the arts, but citizens don’t have a chance to feel that they can sacrifice for the war effort. CNN has referred to the Iraq war as “The Forgotten War”, a term formally reserved for the Korean police action. Not to sound alarmist, but where is our participation in this war? Where are our civilian sacrifices? Our ways of contributing that don’t involve putting yellow ribbons on our gas-guzzling SUVs? And for the love of all that is holy, where are our oil rations?!
It’s enough to get a girl pretty down. But then I found something that cheered me up: Sarah Chayes has an article in the current issue of the Atlantic Monthly. Now, I have to confess that I adore Sarah Chayes. I was totally hooked on her New York Times blog, which ran in the summer of ’06, and when I heard her speak at a book signing, I was blown away. She speaks with the calm, matter-of-fact straightforwardness that befits a former reporter, and she manages to sound entirely knowledgeable without sounding terribly bleak—frankly, an accomplishment. This current article is no exception. Chayes delights in breaking down for her readers the insane bureaucracies she’s dealt with (almost entirely American) since quitting her reporting job for NPR to form several collectives in Afghanistan, most recently and importantly Arghand, a soap-making collective. That’s right. Sarah Chayes, grasping that Afghani fruit is the most vital local economic product, and that fruit is not easy to transport or keep fresh, knowing that if the Afghani economy is not fostered, people will logically return to Taliban-run poppy fields, did what anyone would do: she started making soap. And she started doing it with locally, with local labor (men and women, in a particularly bold move) and local crops in combination with a global economy and globalized digital means of communication. The results include jobs, legal and politically unaffiliated, stability and hope. Not bad, for soap.
Sarah Chayes is a brilliant role model for those of us who are prepared to change our lives this way—which nearly no one is. And she knows this. And she writes about this. And she doesn’t judge anyone. But her message is clear, if only through her deeds: becoming involved in healing the world—the most essential tikkun olam—is vital. We have to engage. And if you’re looking for a way to start, she’s got a wish list for you. Because it’s not just $1.6 trillion we’re looking at—it’s day to day life for an unbelievable number of people all over the world. Accountability is not really big in Washington right now, and nobody’s going to force Americans to contribute to this war that we are still involved in. So we’ve got to force ourselves. I wish you luck.
–Mel Weiss
November 16, 2007 by admin
This past Sunday, I attended Kosher Fest, the yearly gathering of kosher food and beverage purveyors and other food professionals (held in New York City, naturally). Kosher Fest is no informal synagogue social – it’s a two-day mega event that features the newest, best, and flashiest in kosher food. Page 11 of the 84-page Kosher Fest program guide displays some “impressive facts” including the dollar value of kosher produced goods in the US – $10,500,000,000. In other words, if you make kosher food you’re either at Kosher Fest, or you’re missing out.
Precisely because it’s the “see and be seen” event of the Jewish food year, Kosher Fest serves as an annual barometer of the kosher industry – its health, its growth, and its trends. More interestingly, as I ambled down the aisles of shiny displays, I began to notice how the state of kosher food uncannily mirrors the state of today’s Jewish community.
Sponsored by the OU, OK, Kof-K and Star K kosher certifiers (among others), the stands at Kosher Fest was anchored by the big guys – Kedem, Osem, Manischewitz, Agri Processors, and Rokeach. Of the lesser-known brands, the majority of products still fell into the “traditionally kosher” category – foods that feel ersatz, like most Pesach-friendly cookies and the snacks at the Golden Fluff booth, where I watched people dip spongy kosher marshmallows into a bubbling fountain of brown, plastic-like chocolate.
After wading a bit deeper into the stands of Pesach-friendly cookies and jugs of kosher, corn syrup-heavy BBQ sauce, however, it was possible to find some companies bucking the status quo with products that are:
-Organic (e.g Wise Kosher organic poultry, The Simple Kitchen Organic
fruit sparklers)
-Sustainable (e.g. Royal George cheese from grass fed cows)
-Vegan (including Sheese, a non-dairy cheese from Scotland which
unfortunately tasted a bit too much like Play Dough)
I even noticed signs of political resistance in the shape of Eye on Agri Processors literature, surreptitiously scattered about the tables and in the press room.
What could be more indicative of the state of the Jewish community than a stroll through Kosher Fest? Just like in the organizational Jewish world, the money and the influence in the kosher industry sit with the establishment, while inspired and creative ideas are generated by a smaller sub-set of innovative companies/organizations who are willing to try something new.
As someone who works for one of those innovative organizations (Hazon), I know how frustrating it can be to feel like the work we do is a tiny drop in the Jewish organizational bucket. Similarly, I imagine a lot of the smaller, alternative food companies wish the kosher market was more demanding of their products.
Still, the tide seems to be turning. It will not be the Manischewitz’s of the world, but the smaller, forward-thinking companies (and organizations) that redefine what it means to eat and be Jewish in the 21st century.
*While we’re discussing “the state of things,” here’s a fascinating post on Jewschool which highlights large gap between mainstream Jewish funding and the innovative ideas and organizations it hesitates to support.
–Leah Koenig.
November 12, 2007 by admin
A very interesting development in the fight for agunots’ rights occurred this past Sunday. A group of Orthodox rabbis rallied, along with lay people, outside the home of another Orthodox rabbi, to protest his alleged enabling of men who refuse to grant their wives a get [religious divorce].
Such a show of support on the part of Orthodox rabbis for the cause of women’s/agunot rights, and against a fellow Orthodox rabbi, is rather unusual. The notion of rabbis rallying brings to mind causes like freeing Soviet Jewry or supporting the State of Israel, not women’s rights. Particularly regarding the cause of agunot, Orthodox rabbis, at least in Israel, have been rather hostile of late. So this could be a sign, as the Forward notes, “that the movement on behalf of agunot is gaining mainstream acceptance in the Orthodox world.” That would certainly be welcome news.
However, we should note that there’s more going on here than just the cause for agunots’ rights. This protest was also about rabbinic power.
The protesters claim that Rabbi Shlomo Blumenkrantz, the rabbi whose actions elicited the protest, has pressured “agunot to accede to their husbands’ terms, presenting decrees that allow recalcitrant husbands to remarry without granting a get,” according to the Forward. And that he’s doing so, The Jewish Press notes, “in ways that run counter to halacha.” In one particular case noted in The Jewish Press, Blumenkrantz granted a man a heter meah rabbanim [permission to marry a second wife] when that man had a seruv [document indicating he is recalcitrant and not cooperating with divorce proceedings] from the Rabbinical Court of Kollel Horabonim in Monsey, NY.
Rabbi Blumenkrantz, however, denies these charges, insisting that he’s acting in accordance with halacha and suggesting that, in fact, the rabbis accusing him are the ones handling divorces inappropriately, “because they are trying to be politically correct, and because they get pressured from feminist groups,” writes The Jewish Press. “I back what I say with documents,” he said, “these other rabbis don’t.”
So what we have here is a battle over interpretations of Jewish law and over rabbinic authority.
It is telling that Rabbi Jacob Rabinowitz, a former dean at Yeshiva University, told the Forward, “I’d like to see [Blumenkrantz] stay away from the whole area in issuing halachic rulings. He should leave it to organized bodies.”
Blumenkrantz has refused to bow to the will of Orthodox rabbinic bodies — the dispute with Rabbinical Court of Kollel Horabonim in Monsey mentioned above is a case in point — and the Orthodox establishment is not having it.
But it should be noted that the rabbinic spearheaders of the rally were modern Orthodox, largely Rabbi Hershel Schachter, a rosh yeshiva at YU and “a respected Talmudic scholar known for his strict interpretation of Jewish law,” notes the Forward, “sent a letter to the members of the Rabbinical Council of America, the largest union of [mostly modern-]Orthodox rabbis, and the [modern-Orthodox] National Council of Young Israel, urging the organizations to attend the rally.” These modern-Orthodox rabbis were taking a stand not just against Blumenkrantz the individual but against the right-wing, fundamentalist approach to halacha.
Because, in a sense, Blumenkrantaz is probably right: the rabbinic courts whose decrees he’s ignoring are trying to be politically correct, and are bending to the pressure of feminist groups — but that’s a good thing. They’re not just being politically correct for the sake of it; rather, they’re acknowledging that being more equitable in the way they wield halacha is right, because, as Rabbi Rabinowitz told the Forward, “Too many people have been hurt.”
–Rebecca Honig Friedman
November 12, 2007 by Mel Weiss
I have an embarrassing confession: I didn’t vote this past Tuesday. There wasn’t anything major on my local ballot, but I realized I’m still registered at an old address, and it didn’t happen. No major harm done, but I’m a little mortified. To perhaps assuage this, and to motivate me to send in my new address form, a short and incomplete history of my personal identity politics and suffrage:
The first independent political entity to give women the right to vote was, believe it or not, New Zealand, clocking in first in 1893 and thus beating the United States by twenty-seven years. That’s right, although it strikes me as unbelievable: the United States passed the Nineteenth Amendment in 1920. (By the way, those voting rights are not necessarily commensurate with other equal rights under the law. ERA what now?) There are still countries in the world where women are not allowed to vote, such as Brunei and Saudi Arabia.
One of the most phenomenal aspects of the Constitution of the Unites States was the guaranteed right to vote for religious minorities,
although, of course, the same would not apply for non-white racial minorities, like Jews. (It took the Reform Act of 1867 to extend voting privileges to a similar population in England.)
On any sort of reasonable election guide, you won’t find Burma/Myanmar listed—the junta doesn’t hold any elections. You will find Thailand, whose military coup was much more recent and bloodless. You’ll also find nations like Zimbabwe and Russia, where elections are, if not locally, at least casually known internationally as a massive joke and general waste of paper. A little digging will let you know that election-related stampedes have killed 51 in Yemen in recent years, and 22 women in India. Women have been killed in Afghanistan for registering themselves and others to vote. It is still
a right for which people regularly die.
And, of course, recent events teach us not to take our rights here too much for granted.
In honor of Veterans’ Day, in honor of those who have fought and died for the freedoms we all—myself most definitely included—so often fail to stop and cherish, register to vote, and make sure your friends and family register, too. There’s nothing more powerful in the world.
–Mel Weiss
November 7, 2007 by admin
I’m flying home to Chicago for Thanksgiving, and bringing…my boyfriend. On the face of things, it’s no big deal, right? People bring their partners home all the time – and he’s already met my parents several times to rave reviews.
So why am I so nervous?
For one, it’s intimidating to bring your partner into your parents’ home – the place that holds the ghosts of your teenaged angst, not to mention photographic proof that you were once an awkward, braces-faced junior high kid.
More than that, though, I’m nervous about the food. I grew up in a non-kosher, crab and cheeseburger-loving household. He grew up in a strictly kosher home, and continues to keep kosher today. I’ve spent many holidays at his parents’ home, tucking in happily to the cornucopia of kosher dishes his mom and siblings prepare. This time around, however, my mother’s turkey paired with buttery mashed potatoes clearly isn’t going to cut it.
To her great credit – my mom has offered to bend over nearly backwards to accommodate my boyfriend’s food needs (kosher turkey, no pumpkin pie with condensed milk, etc.) and my brother agreed to make his delicious Thanksgiving green beans with almond milk instead of cream. Likewise, my boyfriend is grateful for their gestures of accommodation, and looking forward to spending the holiday with my family. Still, despite everyone’s best intentions, I’m freaked out. Over the years, my family has come to terms with my insistence that there be sufficient vegetarian options at the Thanksgiving table. But how will they fare with a kosher/dairy-free holiday? Will they feel resentful – like their home isn’t good enough? Will they feel deprived of their yearly food traditions? On the other hand, will my boyfriend feel fully comfortable at the table? And – the question I can’t get out of my head – will I calm down, or am I destined to spend the entire meal worried about everyone else’s happiness?
–Leah Koenig