Entries for Category: Big Tent Judaism
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Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute is dedicated to providing education and support to those on the periphery of Jewish life through a wide array of programming, including The Mothers Circle and The Grandparents Circle. As part of that commitment, we have collaborated with our friends at Shalom Sesame to introduce you to free educational resources at ShalomSesame.org. From the creators of Sesame Street, Shalom Sesame is a cross-platform media initiative developed to introduce American children to Jewish culture, Hebrew language, and the diversity of Israel.
The Shalom Sesame site is easy to use, focusing on timely themed units. Each unit includes videos, worksheets, games and a series of parent articles. We are excited to share our new holiday-themed Shalom Sesame resource guides, which help you navigate the resources, with an eye toward the diversity that characterizes the Jewish community of today. As you bring Jewish tradition into your households, Shalom Sesame is a wonderful way for you and your children to learn together.
I am not a fan of Lifetime movies. While there’s always a time for an incredibly predictable love story, the idea of watching what is basically the same plot with different characters over and over again doesn’t appeal to me. The “heartstrings” channel’s latest variation on a theme is Twist of Faith, starring Toni Braxton as a gospel singer and David Julian Hirsch as an Orthodox Jewish cantor. The Forward’s Eitan Kensky’s broke down the plot of the movie, as well as analyzed it being advertised as an “interfaith love story,” in a recent article.
The first interesting point Kensky brings up is one I think about a lot: sure, intermarriages and inter-dating are becoming more common on TV and in movies, but usually at least one, if not both, of the people involved is not particularly religious—it’s the parents or grandparents stressing religion and culture, or family history. We see this in real life as well, as, understandably, having one “strong” faith is easier than two, and can make combining traditions a bit easier. So where, then, is Lifetime going with two main characters who each have such strong yet different religious backgrounds? According to blogger on NewsObserver.com, absolutely nowhere.
Every so often, the subject of my denomination comes up in conversation. That is to say, I am asked if I am Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Orthodox, etc. I spent most of my life being so sure of the answer, but recently I find that the question just makes me uncomfortable.
I grew up in the Conservative movement, went to a Solomon Schechter Jewish Day School, lived in a kosher home– the whole shebang. But did I pray three times a day? No. Did I work on Shabbat? Once I turned 16, you could find me scanning groceries at the local Publix on most Saturdays. Do I eat cheeseburgers? Yes, but never in my parents’ house. All this is to say that I adapted my Conservative upbringing to accommodate a more modern lifestyle, which is essentially a Reform Jewish perspective. Yet, attending a Reform service has always felt uncomfortable to me. Why? Because it’s just not what I do. While many of my values align with the Reform movement, the religious setting feels unnatural to me because the melodies are different, there is more English, and there are often instruments. What appeals to me about Judaism in general IS the tradition, the memories I attach to it, and the sense of efficacy I feel when I am engaged in it. I prefer a Conservative service because I like that I know what to expect; it reminds me of my upbringing and makes me feel closer to my Jewish self. But I by no means adhere to Jewish law in the way that the Conservative movement propounds. I’m not prepared to give up my cheeseburgers.
I wrestle with my own hypocrisy a lot on this one. My views tend toward Reform, but my synagogue practices lean toward Conservative. It is largely because of this that, a recent Op-Ed from The Times of Israel really spoke to me.
For anyone who, like me, is interested in creating a more inclusive Jewish community, The New Normal, Ari Ne’eman’s new blog in The Jewish Week, is more than worth reading. In the inaugural post, Ne’eman puts a mirror to the face of the Jewish community and poses a clear and provocative challenge: Can the organized Jewish community call itself truly inclusive as long as accessibility to people with disabilities is perceived as a matter of “extra rights, not equal rights?” When will Jewish communal institutions (who are exempted from the legal requirements of the Americans with Disabilities Act) make full inclusion of people with disabilities a priority, rather than something that is merely nice to have? What will it take, in other words, to make an accessible Jewish community “the new normal?”
I am excited about Ne’eman’s blog because I think the same lesson can be applied more broadly. This is not meant to lessen the particular importance of including people with disabilities. Creating an inclusive Jewish community must mean making buildings wheelchair-accessible, posting signage in Brail, and offering Sign Language interpretation. But it must not stop there.
The Landings is a planned community set up on Skidaway Island, one of Savannah, Georgia’s barrier islands. Formerly a logging camp, it is now home to 8,500 residents with almost 4,000 houses. This gated community of 4,500 acres (including 90 acres of forested area) includes four athletic fields, 151 lagoons, 34 tennis courts, six golf courses, 91 miles of road, and 30 miles of trails. They also have an organization called Jewish Women of the Landings (JWOL), which, I was told on a recent visit, isn’t just for Jewish women – anyone can participate as long as they live in The Landings.
JWOL has a lot of activities; some are social, some are civic-minded, some are educational. For their February educational evening, over 30 men and women gathered at the home of Dr. Norton and Linda Rosensweig (Nort is on JOI’s board of directors) to hear Rabbi Kerry Olitzky speak about engagement, intermarriage, grandparenting, and the future of the Jewish community.
Are you a mom looking for guidance on sharing Passover with your children? If you are, or know someone who is, we are here to help!
With Passover just around the corner, beginning on March 25th, Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute is excited to offer a free online discussion about celebrating the holiday of Passover, during which we will talk about the details of the seder (ritual meal), what to eat/not to eat, how to involve your children, and more!
WHO: Mothers of other religious backgrounds raising Jewish children, and anyone else interested.
WHAT: The Mothers Circle: Seder Survival Guide Online Discussion
WHEN: Tuesday, March 12, 2013 at 1:00 PM EST
WHERE: Online! All you need is a computer and a phone.
HOW: Register for this free class by clicking here.
We at JOI consider mothers of other religious backgrounds raising Jewish children to be the unsung heroes of the Jewish community. Therefore, we want to make sure they have the resources necessary to create a Jewish home. By offering this class in an online discussion format, moms from across North America who may not have a local Mothers Circle will be able to get their questions answered while virtually surrounded by moms just like them.
The online discussion will be co-led by Laura Kinyon, a long-time Mothers Circle facilitator based in Hartford, CT, and myself, and participants will be able to submit questions in advance to ensure they are answered during the session (submitted during registration).
We hope you will join us, and will pass this information on to anyone who you think might be interested!
JOI wants to help make Passover an enjoyable holiday for everyone. As always, anyone can register for a Mothers Circle online session, and JOI welcomes participants to do so by clicking the link above. For questions about either session, how to participate, or how to get a question about Passover answered, I invite you to be in touch with me at HMorris@JOI.org or 212-760-1440.
The following is a guest blog from JeriAnn Geller. Ms. Geller is a writer, editor, teacher, artist, and occasional wrangler of adolescents. Judaically conservative, politically progressive, romantically infinitive.
Question: Which Jewish group has the most African genes?
The answer, actually, is “all of the above.” According to researchers at the New York University School of Medicine, sub-Saharan African genes are consistently found in all Jewish groups at the rate of 3-5 percent. In fact, it is the strongest clue to date that there is a common biological ancestry among modern Jews. If you couple this with the finding that 20 percent of the current world Jewish population is non-white, you might begin to wonder—where did we get the idea that a Jewish person looks only one particular way?
Could it be a problem of perception? When many of us were growing up, images of Jews of Color in the media were usually limited to entertainers who had converted—Sammy Davis Jr. and Nell Carter. Few people knew that versatile character actor Yaphet Kotto came from a long line of African Jews—or that he was Jewish at all. In fact, many of us grew up with the misperception that there were only two ways a person could be black and Jewish: conversion or having Ethiopian ancestors.
It is a year since my mother died. Many have written books about their experience saying kaddish during their first year of mourning and about the developmental genius implicit in the traditional approach to mourning and bereavement. (Years ago, I prepared Grief in our Seasons as a vehicle that implicitly combines the Kubler-Ross approach with the rabbinic approach.) Some of the kaddish memoir books reflect my own experiences, especially as one who travels frequently and is often away from one’s home community. And as a result, I have found community in a variety of places, sometimes permanent (like the daily minyan in my home synagogue), sometimes semi-permanent (like the regular local minyanim in which I drop in during my travels), and sometimes limited by time (like the “pick up” minyanim assembled so that I might say kaddish or simply catch in an airport or at a conference as one who traditionally engages in formal prayer three times a day). I think about the notion of community a great deal. While it is not a concept that I take lightly, I find it increasingly difficult to define, especially as a value promoted by the organized Jewish community.
When I visit synagogues, they often tell me that one of the benefits of participating in their synagogue is being a part of a community. And I know that the nature of this kind of community is most evident at the time of tragedy or loss. And it is sometimes also evident during times of celebration. But this can’t be enough. Newcomers can’t be expected to wait for celebrations or, Gd forbid, tragedy or loss, to find community. So synagogues have to do more than provide community. Community itself is insufficient. I find community in lots of places, like the fitness center where I play a regular game of racquetball. What Jewish communal institutions have to provide, particularly synagogues, is not just community, but community with meaning. While I find community in many places, what is rare today is finding community with meaning, a community that helps me to find my purpose in the world, that helps to anchor me in a chaotic world, and that helps to answer the big questions of life. If synagogues can do so, then there will be lots of folks interested in participating in their community.
A recent story in the New York Times tells of an Orthodox couple who are hosting posh, “buzz filled” parties at their SoHo loft in Manhattan, where social mingling of affluent young Jewish professionals weaves seamlessly into a Talmudic study session. And these two seem to be doing it right; according to the story, these parties are increasing in popularity, and the couple is looking to expand to other cities outside of New York.
The North American Jewish community has been feeling the pinch of disengagement for decades now. At any given time, the majority of American Jews simply do not participate in organized Jewish life, in part because many Jewish institutions have become self-contained and alienating to those on the outside. So, the Jewish community has had to get creative, just like the couple mentioned in the New York Times article, and just like Public Space Judaism –– a program model bringing Jewish programming to spaces where anyone can access it, regardless of how or whether they affiliate with the Jewish community.
Public Space Judaism is something that Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute (JOI) has done successfully for a decade now. However, we were never the only ones, of course. The difference in our work is that when JOI and our local partners bring Hanukkah to Barnes and Noble or Passover to your nearest grocery store, what we offer is an open door to an exploration of the entire gamut of what Judaism could mean and what participation in the organized Jewish community can provide. We offer fun activities for kids and engaging conversation for adults – whether they identify as Jews themselves or are part of a Jewish family – in order to learn about their needs and interests so that we can invite them to continue their Jewish journey with the help of their local Jewish community.
Now, this exploration could entail, at some point or other, attending a Shabbat dinner or a menorah lighting at a local synagogue. But it certainly does not have to mean that. Perhaps a passerby can enjoy Passover in the Matzah Aisle and then be invited to a Jewish film festival, or donate to a Jewish cause, or just talk to his or her kids about it. The reason we bring Judaism to public spaces is not to hook people into joining a synagogue. The reason is that we believe Judaism is something valuable enough to be shared in public. Jewish experience, and experience with Judaism, should not be limited to the four walls of Jewish institutions, or even our homes, and should not require membership.
So how do you do it? How do you successfully bring Purim, or Passover, or Shavuot to where anyone can access it? There’s no need to start from scratch or reinvent the wheel. JOI works with hundreds of communities across North America, offering free materials and training, and implementing events that have engaged tens of thousands of individuals over the past decade. We have learned that those who follow through on our guidance and adopt our best practices are that much more likely to produce a successful Public Space Judaism event. Would you like to bring Judaism to your community’s public space this spring? Please let us know.
I’ve written before about Jewish celebrities, and how they inherently invoke a sense of pride simply through association. Adam Sandler touched upon that pride in a big way through his Hanukkah songs, in which he goes through long lists of celebrities who are in any way Jewish. As he sings, “Harrison Ford’s a quarter Jewish: not too shabby!” (Note: as it turns out, Ford’s mother is Jewish on both sides; Sandler should probably fix his math on that one!)
But there’s a new category of celebrity Jewish pride that Sandler has yet to address, and that category includes stars like Drew Barrymore. Drew recently spoke to the ladies of The View about her decision to raise her new baby girl, Olive, as “traditionally Jewish.” Barrymore married her husband, art dealer Will Koppelman, about seven months ago in a Jewish ceremony performed by a rabbi, complete with a ketubah (Jewish marital contract), yarmulkes (Jewish head coverings, also called kippahs), and a chuppah (canopy under which a Jewish couple stands during the ceremony).
While Barrymore has not converted and has not intimated that she will choose to, she has embraced Judaism into her life, calling it “a beautiful faith” that she is “so honored” to be around.
“It’s so family-oriented,” she said. “The stories are so beautiful and it’s incredibly enlightening. I’m really happy.”
I would have been excited by Drew’s Jewish connection regardless. But now that I am working with moms just like Drew, who are raising Jewish children without being brought up Jewish themselves, I connected to her words on a new level. I am constantly inspired by the commitment of our Mothers Circle moms to take on such a huge and potentially daunting task, and am so privileged to be part of a team that supports them in their journeys. I hope that Drew’s story gives our moms the same pride and connection I feel when I hear about a Jewish celebrity. Beyond that, I hope it gives Jews everywhere a sense of pride that there are so many who wish to cast their lot with the Jewish people.
Perhaps it’s time for Adam Sandler to start writing The Hanukkah Song Part 4: The Celebrity Mothers Circle!
One of the overarching messages we value here at Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute is getting Jewish organizations to move beyond “business as usual” in order to secure a future for the Jewish community. This includes lowering barriers such as cost and language, but also thinking creatively about programs, who they serve, and what those people’s needs are. By simply stepping back and viewing the situation from the point of view of those being served, an institution can become much more attractive (and much more of an asset) to the community.
Rabbi Michael Friedland at Sinai Synagogue in South Bend, Indiana knows this from personal experience. As described in an article published by JTA, Friedland nearly doubled participation in the synagogue’s Hebrew Sunday school, by moving it to Saturday mornings and adding a brunch. A small change, but one that served the needs of his community, as well as intrigued them. Yisrael Shapiro, the article’s author, writes “congregants with and without children saw something interesting happening, and participation soared from about 50 members on a typical Shabbat morning to 90.”
Smaller congregations around the country are attempting to follow suit. What does this say about the state of the Jewish community today? In order to stay relevant, institutions must stay fresh and in tune with those they wish to serve, and perhaps most importantly, be willing to take risks. Here at Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute, this is exactly the kind of attitude we encourage, and look forward to hearing about more congregations like Sinai Synagogue, and more forward thinkers like Rabbi Friedland.
Last week, I traveled with JOI Executive Director Rabbi Kerry Olitzky to Los Angeles to meet with some wonderful people from the various Federations and other Jewish organizations around the city, as well as individuals. As we made our way from meeting to meeting, I was reminded of so many important aspects of outreach, as well as learned a few new ones.
1. You can’t be a prophet in your own land. Bringing in experts to put a mirror up to current practices and work with leaders in your community will move a community forward faster than you trying to convince your peers - lay leaders or professionals - that they need to risk the barn to save the farm.
2. Baby steps are for babies. The Jewish community is not a baby; we need to be bold and take large steps forward. I would have added “before it’s too late” but I am optimistic for the future of the Jewish community. (See #9.)
3. The future of any Jewish family can change in a nano-second. In the split-second between when a child tells a parent s/he is “serious” about a potential partner who is not Jewish and the response from the parent, the relationship between the parent and child, the parent and future grandchildren, the parent and the child’s partner, and the partner and the Jewish community all hang in the balance. Be the warm, welcoming Jewish community in which someone will want to participate.
4. Non-Jewish spouses are not included in mailings from synagogues. That’s right. A mother from a different background whose family joined the synagogue, who drives the children to Hebrew School, who makes Shabbat every Friday night, who sends her kids to Jewish day schools and enrolls a them in Jewish camps doesn’t rank high enough to have her name included on the envelope for the newsletter the synagogue sends to her home. What other policies are in place that are exclusionary?
5. We need to trust our children more. If we want our children to have Jewish spouses we need to be straight about it and not try to trick them. Send them to day school because we value Jewish education. Support Moishe Houses because they provide meaningful Jewish experiences. Provide free trips to Israel so that young adults can feel connected to the land. Then get out of the way and trust the kids to make decisions that are right for them. After all, we raised these brilliant beings…
Through the generosity of our supporters and after many years of working with Jewish communal professionals in the Windy City, Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute is hiring a Public Space Judaism Coordinator in Chicago. In this (initially) part-time role, the Public Space Judaism Coordinator will take JOI’s training on best outreach and engagement practices, and use them to coordinate and implement outreach programming in public spaces. The programs are designed to reach and engage all those who may benefit from the meaning and value of participation in the organized Jewish community, including intermarried households. The Public Space Judaism Coordinator will foster collaboration between Chicago’s Jewish institutions, as there is now a broad coalition interesting in casting the widest possible net through Jewish holiday programming and experiential education in secular spaces. The Coordinator will also steward newcomers to other relevant programs and organizations that meet their needs, as our approach is “client-centered” and about serving the individuals’ interests and needs. For the complete job description, click here.
Most importantly, the Public Space Judaism Coordinator will be providing a crucial service for the community – someone who can independently provide a doorway into the entire gamut of Jewish communal programming and organizations. We envision that our Public Space Judaism Coordinator will promote the value of Jewish life, no matter the route one chooses.
This past weekend, I finally watched Pitch Perfect, a hilarious take on the world of college a cappella. In addition to bringing back a ton of memories from my days in the Golden Blues at the University of Delaware (Go Blue Hens!), it also reminded me how much I enjoy Elizabeth Banks, who is also one of the movie’s producers.
As luck would have it, the Hunger Games actress and UPenn grad was recently interviewed by Marc Maron for his WTF Podcast, which I learned about thanks to an article by Jewcy.com writer Stephanie Butnick which highlights the fact that Banks is a Jew-by-choice. Banks, raised a Catholic in Massachusetts, married a Jewish man, and eventually converted. But, Maron asks, “are you, like, officially a Jew?” Banks replies, “I’m not officially stamped, but by all accounts yes…My kids go to Jewish pre-school, we only celebrate Jewish holidays, I love seder…Frankly, because I’m already doing everything, I feel like I’m as Jewish as I’m ever going to be.” She goes on to say:
The following essay, “Loving the Stranger: Intimacy between Jews and Non-Jews,” offers both a moving personal testimonial and a profound new understanding of Jewish intermarriage. Dr. Rachel Baum, Adjunct Assistant Professor of Jewish Studies & Hebrew Studies at the University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee, writes, “Is it possible that marrying a non-Jew might help us understand Judaism better. See something against a new background, which we couldn’t see in the sea of sameness? Is it possible that we, above others, embody most profoundly Judaism’s injunction to love the stranger?” The essay is collected in a new book, “Encountering the Stranger: A Jewish-Christian-Muslim Trialogue,” and is an important addition to the intermarriage conversation. We’re honored to excerpt it here for the first time anywhere:
Loving the Stranger: Intimacy between Jews and Non-Jews
RACHEL N. BAUM
I am a Jew. There is no branch of Judaism that would deny this, despite my maternal grandmother’s marriage to a non-Jew, despite my having celebrated Christmas throughout my childhood, despite my occasional affection for bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. I am a Jew, because my mother is a Jew, and her mother before her, and her mother before that.1
Am I a good Jew? I admit that I bristle at the question. Yet the question, “Is person X a good Jew, Christian, Muslim, etc.?” lies at the heart of much conversation within and among religious communities. Many debates within religious communities can be understood as disagreements over what it means to be a good member of the community. What is essential to the community, what must one have or be in order to identify with that community?
The branches of Judaism define its essence differently. Halacha (the body of Jewish religious jurisprudence) is central to Orthodoxy; Jewish ethics is of fundamental importance to Reform Judaism. Yet the determination of what makes a “good Jew” is not limited to religious Judaism, but extends to secular Jewish culture as well. And here, despite the differences between the religious and the secular, there is a surprising amount of agreement on the challenges facing the Jewish community.
Earlier this month, The Forward featured a piece on the way the Jewish community looks today. The article highlights an ethnically diverse set of photos, all of Jewish children who, just a decade or so ago, would never have been assumed Jewish, and discusses The Forward’s 2013 project documenting the “changing Jewish landscape.”
The point, of course, is that there is no such thing as “looking Jewish,” nor is there one way to “be Jewish”—not here in America, and not in any of the over 50 countries where Jews live. Here at Big Tent Judaism/Jewish Outreach Institute, we are constantly talking about the changing face of the Jewish community and how to better serve those who feel marginalized. Once largely (but never entirely) white and Eastern European, the American Jewish community is evolving. With interfaith families, adoptions, and conversions, we have to cast aside our mental picture of who is Jewish, and instead focus on helping those on the periphery of Jewish life feel welcome, regardless of their background.
Before looking at this small collection of photos, picture in your head what you think “Jewish” looks like, then click through and prepare to throw your preconceived notions aside. We look forward to seeing the results of The Forward’s project, and to continuing to guide and contribute to the conversation.
One of the things I love most about being Jewish is that the calendar offers so many opportunities for celebrating. The holidays truly provide “tent poles” for my year in more ways than one. I bust out my food processor once a year to make latkes, I synthesize Halloween and Purim costumes, I suffer through abstaining from hot dog buns when I catch a Rays game during Passover… and the list goes on.
In the age of YouTube, a new holiday tradition has begun to emerge: the holiday parody video. It’s particularly fresh on my mind coming off of Hanukkah, but you can find songs for all sorts of Jewish holidays. I even created my own video when I ran special programs at a religious school. In the spirit of the Maccabeats’ extremely popular “Candlelight” video, the entire school came together to film a parody I had written of Sean Kingston’s “Fire Burning” which I called “Oil Burning.” The kids were thrilled to be a part of it, because who doesn’t want to be a YouTube star? It worked wonders for “Gangnam Style” (though I don’t know that our video had quite the same reach).
Making that video was a successful experiential education activity because it was about latching onto a trend and showing that we could put a spin on it that was Jewish, and that was uniquely ours. As an educator, it is my primary goal to show how Jewish life is relevant and applicable to everyday life. That includes infusing Judaism into existing interests; as a religious school teacher, all I had to do was say “YouTube” and I immediately had a captive audience, which is no easy feat in an after school program.
I know that I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am constantly surprised. No matter how much training we do with regard to the “welcoming in” part of “reaching out and welcoming in,” it seems that Jewish communal professionals and volunteers go on automatic pilot and seem to be oblivious to the customer service culture in which they are competing.
The other night, my wife and I attended an out-of-town event. It was sponsored by a local synagogue and national Jewish organization. We ordered tickets on-line and picked them up at the door. (Actually, we picked them up from three folks sitting behind a table.) There was no one there to greet us or welcome us. There was no attempt to capture our contact information or follow up with us.
It turned out that the event, which was advertised as a concert, was really a donor event for a specific cause. While I resonate with the cause and was happy to support it, I really thought that I was attending a concert, not a fundraising event. Had I been a newcomer to the community, simply looking for an event to attend with my spouse, I would quite possibly have been “turned off” by the lack of transparency of the event’s true intent. Another lesson that we continue to try to teach the community: be transparent and stay away from hidden agendas. They will distance you from a potential target population.
As someone in an interfaith relationship, one thing I am tremendously thankful for is the support of my parents. While they would prefer I be with someone of the Jewish persuasion, at this point what they want most is for me to be happy and loved, regardless of the religion of the person I am with. They have made an incredible effort to both get to know, and include, my boyfriend, and while this may not be the relationship they would have chosen for me, they support it nonetheless (perhaps because my boyfriend is the only person who can go toe-to-toe with my dad on world geography).
Many questions remain, but several of those questions center around including my non-Jewish boyfriend in Jewish traditions, such as Passover seder and lighting the Hanukkah candles. There is a delicate balance to be struck between including someone of another faith, and being sure to not make them uncomfortable participating in, or being around, traditions they have never experienced before. I remember all too well the first time I attended church with my best friend (who is Catholic), and hunched low in the pew as her family knelt so that the rest of the congregation couldn’t see that I wasn’t kneeling.
It was refreshing to read a recent column from the Ufberg/Sclamberg family, Our Two Cents, featured in the Jewish News Weekly of Northern California. In the column, the mother of a 37-year-old woman asks the family (a mother, and her son and two daughters) how to gently introduce her daughter’s new beau to their Jewish traditions in a way that he will be comfortable with. The mother makes it clear that she is OK with the fact that her daughter is dating a non-Jewish man. Similar to my mother, what she wants most is for her daughter to be happy. However, she would still like to include him in Jewish family traditions and asks the columnists what suggestions they have. The question was not about “getting rid of” the non-Jewish partner, but instead about how to include him.
Torah commentary originally posted for the JFNA Rabbinic Cabinet’s weekly email, Mekor Chaim.
The various parshiot read this time of year concerning the Exodus from Egypt are among what may be described as the foundational texts of the Jewish people. It is the experience in Egypt and then in the desert that helped shape the religious psyche—and values system—of the Jewish people. We were strangers—and we learned what it is to be an outsider. We were slaves—and we learned what it is to be free.
In this portion, Moses is directed by Gd to go back to Pharaoh and demand the release of the Jewish people. Gd hardens Pharaoh’s heart (perhaps understood as allowing Pharaoh to act without any conscience or self-control). In so doing, Pharaoh once again refuses to release the Israelites from Egypt. So Gd sends forth three additional plagues, the last of which contains the unthinkable: the destruction of the first-born of Egypt. According to the Torah, it is the witnessing of these acts—and others—that bolster the Jewish people’s faith in Gd and their willingness to engage in a covenantal relationship later at Sinai. We frequently bring these acts to the forefront in the context of Jewish ritual and celebration (zecher yitziat Mitzrayim). The liturgy brings our ancestors to the present to serve as witness to Gd’s miraculous deliverance of the Jewish people. But I think that those who interpret the text in this way have it wrong. As a result of this interpretation, people are constantly looking for experiences that will parallel the experience of the Exodus (and the later giving of Torah). They search for the “wow” moments and are disappointed if they do not find them. They want a constant demonstration of Gd’s wondrous acts to raise them to the heights of Sinai, as it did their ancestors.