""They tried to kill us. We survived. Let's eat.""

Women in Judaism

Debates about the role of women in religious life have raged across the Jewish denominations for the last 100 years, and questions regarding the possibility of increased inclusion of women within the Jewish public sphere continue to be discussed in modern rabbinic responsa literature. Jewish feminists are critical of the exclusion of women from Judaism’s most sacred rituals, which is rooted in the belief that Judaism is a patriarchy that reflects male experiences and voices, and in which women are “other.” Orthodox Jews argue that the role of women in traditional Judaism has been shamefully misrepresented, and that women are seen as separate but equal. Within Orthodox faith, the obligations and responsibilities of women differ from those of men, but they are described as no less important. They are wife, mother, and keeper of the household. Because women play a diminished role in the synagogue, many people perceive that they have no role in Jewish religious life. Orthodox Jews, however, contend that it is the home, not the synagogue, around which Jewish life revolves, and that within that sphere women have equal, if not more, power than men. 

Continue reading #4: Gender, Challah, and The Rashi

A Calendar to Balance the Sun and Moon

Since ancient times, various astronomical phenomena have been used to establish unique definitions for the day and its hours, the months and the year. The ancient Jews relied on direct observation of the New Moon, astronomical data, the seasons, sunrise, and sunset, the most important of these calculations being used to mark the beginning of each shabbat. In the centuries after the Temple’s destruction in 70 C.E. when oppression and persecution threatened the continued existence of the Court and the Jewish people, The Sanhedrin (Jewish High Court) established the first recorded Jewish calendar. Like the original system of observation, it is based on a Luni-Solar principle and applies rules by which complex astronomical calculations are combined with the religious requirements into an amazingly precise system.

The lunar calendar is eleven days shorter than the solar calendar. According to this math, every year the festivals should occur eleven days earlier in the season than they did the previous year, essentially “floating” around the seasonal calendar. How, then, does Passover always occur in the spring, Sukkot in the fall, and Chanukah in winter? The calendar is adjusted every few years to ensure that it coincides with the solar calendar, ensuring that the Jewish festivals fall in their correct seasons. This proves that the link between the festivals and the seasons is deliberate. But how, and for what purpose? 

Continue reading #3: Establishing a Sense of Jewish Time, Space, and Seasonality

Jewish Eating and the Elevation of Creation

When the Holy Temple was in existence, the Altar atoned for Israel; today, a person’s table atones for him.

Talmud, Berachot 55a

Before one can grasp the significance of kashrut law, there is a salient need to understand the Jewish approach to eating and life itself. Jews believe that they are here to transform the physical realm into a holy place, in line with the will and design of Hashem.

In terms of eating, there are several aspects relating to this service to holiness. In order to serve G-d, one must be healthy and strong, and eating is a part of that service. As Maimonides put it:

“…keeping the body healthy is part of serving G‑d.”

Additionally, Jews are endowed with the ability to actually elevate the food by eating it with the proper intention. For example, let’s think about a beautiful persimmon. A g-dly spark was invested in the persimmon: its ‘soul’ or ‘vitality’. The spark is trapped in the physical form of the persimmon. However, when one eats the persimmon with an intention toward holiness, the spark is released. The spark or ‘soul of the persimmon unites with the person’s intention to serve G‑d, and when this spiritual energy in the food is realized it adds to the eater’s spiritual awareness.

Eating within the Jewish faith is not just a matter of pleasing the palate, or even a matter of keeping the physical body alive. It is a spiritual service that requires focus and direction. Jews remember this every time they eat. Eating is for a specific purpose and thus requires a specific diet. Therefore, looking at eating as an end in itself is not holy, and is considered a shallow approach. The concept of holiness through kashrut is that eating becomes a means to an end. By utilizing the seemingly mundane in this way, man can elevate the rest of creation.

Within the Jewish worldview, every aspect of creation becomes incorporated into the level above it. Minerals and water sustain plants, plants sustain animals, and all three levels sustain man. Although man’s soul ascends to heaven, his body returns to dust. Therefore, in the capacity as an elevator of g-dly sparks, if a person does nothing with their existence, they bring all of creation back to dust (the lowest level). Conversely, man has the ability to elevate his eating habits to a level of Divinity. By understanding of the philosophies at play in Jewish eating, we can also begin to understand why certain foods are forbidden.

Continue reading #2: The Underpinnings of Jewish Dietary Law

“God created man because God loves stories.”

Elie Wiesel

A Storytelling Animal

Every culture has its stories. Almost certainly, the tradition goes back to the days when our ancestors were hunter-gatherers telling stories around the campfire at night. Cognitive psychologist Jerome Bruner has argued that narrative is central to the construction of meaning, and meaning is what makes the human condition human. There is an inherent link between narrative and identity.

In the words of philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, “man is in his actions and practice, as well as in his fictions, essentially a story-telling animal.” We begin to know ourselves by discovering of which stories we are a part. Cultures are shaped by stories to which they give rise. Some of these stories have a special role in shaping the self-understanding of those who tell them: master-narratives. They are about large, ongoing groups of people: the tribe, the nation, the civilization. They hold the group together across space and time, giving it a shared identity handed on across the generations. Passing on stories, individually and as a people, has always been one of the cornerstones of Jewish tradition and culture.

In her paper “One generation tells another: The transmission of Jewish values through storytelling”, Peninnah Schram states, “The Jews are a storytelling people. From antiquity into the present, the Jewish People have been referred to as the People of the Book. Jews are also a people of the spoken word. Therein lies a tale, for all persons carry within themselves an entire tribe with a complete history of legends, songs, and movements, in addition to a whole repitoire of voices, tastes, smells, memories, and hopes. The particular system that the Jews use to celebrate their sensory and mental memories is the telling of stories.” In another paper, “Where Are Our Storytellers Today”, Schram adds: “In the telling we create mental images in our listeners that might normally be produced only by the memory of events as recorded and integrated by the sensory and perceptual systems of the brain.”

I find myself on solid ground by first offering a story, or multiple interpretations of the same story, as an intoduction to my own research. How better to untangle the history, religion, and cultural history of a people than to examine it’s stories?

Continue reading #1: The Beginning of the Beginning