(H2H) Hollywood To Holy Land

New Jewish Culture or Too Jewish Culture: Insider v. Outsider Perspective

2011-07-19T18:06:00.000-04:00

I made a mistake at my wedding.

Having begun a more observant lifestyle in my mid-twenties, I was determined to show my family and friends that the beauty of Jewish life and living could easily be merged with the American cultural experience.

Every choice we made, we made carefully. For our faith, we chose to have a traditional ceremony which included a tisch and bedeken. For our country, my husband wore his Military dress blues. For our family, we incorporated traditional Albanian customs into our reception. For our future, we attached blue ribbons to our programs and donated money to the Whittemore Peterson Institute for Neuro-Immune Disease. It seemed to be the perfect blend of everything we cared about: God, family and America.

I knew the challenges of choosing to have a traditional ceremony. Our immediate family does not read Hebrew. Our Jewish friends were not familiar with the customs, songs and antics of traditional Jewish weddings. And, more than half of our guests were not Jewish.

So, we created programs which attempted to explain every detail, nuance and oddity of the Jewish world. We incorporated English explanation on every table and pew. We sang Lean on Me instead of Lecha Dodi. Still, if it had not been for my friends from JTS and RRC Rabbinical School, there would have been no Jewish songs, shtick or sheva brachot at our wedding.

My guests noticed this as well. There was more than one awkward moment of silence during our ceremony. One guest referred to the rabbinical students as ringers and told me I should hire them out to do weddings. Another bemoaned the fact that there were no pigs in the blanket available at cocktail hour, not realizing that kosher sushi is a luxury. But, the most poignant comment of the night came from my sister who said, “It was lovely. It was beautiful. But, I felt the way I used to feel at USY events. I was on the outside looking in.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

I spend most of my time in the Jewish world trying to do one thing - explain the outsider perspective to the insider perspective of the professional Jew. Despite my best intentions, I sometimes fail to communicate with either. In some ways, this is the heart of the new American Jewish experience. A plethora of differing events, background and circumstances which change how we view the world and make having a single mouthpiece for that experience ever more irrelevant.

I had been thinking about this fact a lot recently in my own work with Jewish social media, when an article entitled “Is There a Future for the New Jewish Culture?” appeared in the pages of eJewishPhilanthropy.

In the article, Jo Ellen Green Kaiser discusses the recent closing of JDub records, a shock to most in the Jewish professional community, and noted it as part of a trend where non-profits targeting secular Jews in their 20s and 30s have failed.

First, I want to be clear that I commend JDub for their efforts. There is no doubt in my mind that the work of these organizations, and the people who fund them, is done with passion and care for the Jewish community at large. I do not want to devalue the work these organizations have done for Jews in our community.

But, since I was asked my opinion on the article and subsequently JDub, I must speak honestly. For myself, JDub did not represent a new Jewish culture. Rather, it represented a too Jewish culture. One which relates to a hip-hop Rabbi from Williamsburg, and one which does not.

I am from the one which does not.

It is not a problem limited to JDub. I see the same issue in our synagogues when the Rabbi gives a Dvar Torah and lists off the names of biblical commentators like they were modern day celebrities, and my mother turns to me and says, “What is he talking about? I don’t understand.”

I see the same issue in our Hebrew Schools, when the boards want to penalize the student for not attending enough services, as if punishing the family will increase community involvement.

I see the same issue in our yeshivas and seminaries, who have no model to support the people committed to a life of Jewish learning because their background, economic situation and geography has limited their access points.

And, yes, I see the same issue in Jewish media. The websites which targets young adults with opportunities to return to summer camp, promote a kiruv or engage in Jewish justice in NYC. But, my Jewish experience didn’t include Jewish summer camp. I don’t know what a kiruv is. And, I don’t live in NYC...

But, I live between these two worlds.

I make no value judgment on whose Jewish experience is more valid, authentic or better. We are who we are because we are shaped by the coincidences, chances and choices of our journey. I believe every journey is important. Every voice adds to the conversation and the collective whole. I believe that.

But, our experiences are different. And, my voice is under-represented.

I had a list of reasons why I think JDub failed, but none of them are important. Because, I learned the most valuable lesson on Jewish cross cultural exchange from my sister at my wedding. As long as the projects we create to reach others are devoid of input from those on the peripheral – we will continue to create a community where our family can only look from the outside in.

Jean on Missing Shul

2011-07-18T09:22:00.000-04:00

Do you find yourself sleeping in on more Saturday morning's than you can count? I want to hear why! What do you love about your current Synagogue and what do you hate about it? What gets you in the pews, and what keeps you hitting snooze? Drop me a line at our forums on h2hinterface.com! I want to know what you think!

Goodbye...

2011-07-17T12:11:00.005-04:00

Dear Friends,

In 2006 “From Hollywood To Holyland” began as a blog chronicling my journey from the Entertainment Industry into the Rabbinate. At the time, I began the blog for one reason. I wanted to help others who had struggled with the difficult choice of leaving a career for the rabbinate.

Over the last several years, I have continued to share my story with you. You have watched me struggle with Hebrew, manage chronic illness, fall in love, survive deployment, move to Israel (twice!) and transfer schools. It has been a difficult, surprising and beautiful ride. I couldn’t be more grateful than to have shared it with you.

Yet, I have come to realize that the problem with blogs is they are one-sided. They present information, offer opinions or provide instruction, but there is no system in place for allowing conversation between viewers. There is no real connecting point or community. It was never my desire to be involved in a one-sided conversation.

The journey was never about me.

It is time that YOU are represented in the conversation. Which is why I am beyond pleased to invite you to our new forum at: www.H2HInterface.com There, you can create a profile, share on our forums, write and host your own blogs, create groups, chat and more! In addition, we will continue to provide the best in Jewish 'education through entertainment' with our unique brand of humor and news.

Finally, H2H evolved into the H2H Interface because of the amazing suggestions, advice and support of our viewers and friends. I ask you to try out the site, share the link with friends and if you have any comments or suggestions, questions or difficulties to send me an email.

In addition, if you would like to help out with this project, either through creating content or serving as a moderator on our boards, please let me know!

I look forward to hearing from you soon!

Jean

Understanding Torah Interpretation Through Text Messaging

2011-07-15T12:25:00.016-04:00

It is said that Torah is the language of the divine given in a form humans can understand.

However, if you have ever sat in Synagogue on Saturday morning, skimming the pages of Etz Hayim and lost in utter confusion, you are not alone. Contrary to popular Rabbinic opinion, the fact that the Bible is translated into English, does not make it easily understood.

"I don't get it, either."

Whose Voice Will Rise - Pinchas

2011-07-13T13:35:00.023-04:00

When I was eleven years old, my sister threw a phone at me.

"I hate you! Wanna go see a movie?"

JITN: Let's Do It For Our Country...

2011-07-11T12:15:00.006-04:00

Stars get all sort of unusual requests from unusual people, but one request was hard for sumptuous Semitic starlet, Mila Kunis, to ignore.

That's because the request came from Sgt. Scott Moore of the 3rd Battalion 2nd Marines who, while stationed in Afghanistan, created a YouTube video asking the "Friends with Benefits" star to accompany him to a Marine ball when he returns to the states.

You can watch Moore plea for a date below:

JITN: You've Been Rejected...

2011-07-11T08:31:00.008-04:00

Jerry Springer, the MOT who invented trash TV, has a serious mensch streak! Apparently, rumors that Springer offered Casey Anthony a million dollars to appear on his show are false. In addition, Springer responded by saying that he wouldn't allow Anthony on his show -- even if she paid him! You can watch the video here as reported by TMZ.

What's really shocking to me is that anyone would think that the Jerry Springer Show has a million dollars...

JITN: Adam Sandler Saves Monday!

2011-07-11T07:43:00.003-04:00

JThe world's greatest Jewish mind has done it again...

Adam Sandler has just released the trailer for his upcoming film, Jack and Jill. In it, Sandler play a family man forced to deal with his twin sister, when she comes for a visit from the Bronx to Los Angeles - and then won't leave. The film also stars Al Pacino, Katie Perry and a cameo appearance by Tom Cruise. The best part is that Sandler will be debuting in both roles - as both himself and his sister - as you can see from the trailer below:

The Funeral Rabbi - Balak

2011-07-08T13:43:00.020-04:00

"No one will ever want you to do a funeral," A colleague tells me.

"Well... I've always wanted to be The Funeral Rabbi," I quip back.

"I heard she dances on coffins..."

Hold Onto Your Yarmulkes!

2011-07-07T15:30:00.001-04:00

What's more exciting than a poolside bikini shoot?

JITN: Natalie Portman Names her Baby Aleph - Or Not

2011-07-07T07:00:00.005-04:00

Natalie Potrman, every Jewish man's favorite Jewish actress, gave birth Wednesday to a baby boy under a cloud of secrecy. According to US Magazine, rumors are swirling that Portman has decided to name her child, Aleph - as in the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Portman herself has yet to confirm or deny rumors about the name - or even if the child was born.

The child is the first for Natalie Portman and husband Benjamin Millipied. Portman, who was born in Jerusalem, met Millipied on the set of the Black Swan. If the rumors are true, Portman follows a long tradition... of stars giving their children wacky names.

One only wonders what she'll name her second child... Bet?

The Jewish Fail Awards: 6-29 to 7-6

2011-07-06T09:53:00.032-04:00

Between July 4th weekend and Casey Anthony's not guilty verdict, Jewish world news has been slowly dwindling in. Despite these distractions, (H2H) still managed to whip up a few gems. Thankfully, just in time for our latest edition of The Jewish Fail Awards:

Jewish Fail Awards

6-29 to 7-6

______________________________________________________________

Tales of Jewish Rebellion: Mikvah Secrets

2011-07-05T20:55:00.003-04:00

by Anonymous

The skin on my cheeks feels taut, tight against even the slightest facial movement. It has been scrubbed, then rinsed, then dunked in chlorinated water, then washed again all in the same hour. I'm just returning home from the mikvah.

Tales of Jewish Rebellion: Shaking up Shavuot

2011-07-05T18:18:00.006-04:00

by Edra Pantazes.

It has been over three quarters of my life since attending a religious school. So, it is understandable that when I was invited to a Shavuot dinner, the recesses of my brain could only dig up the memory of field trips to Sesame Place. During these days I was living in a snow globe surrounded by my own kind and no one shook up my world.

Edra in Miami.

Happy July 4th!

2011-07-04T10:50:00.000-04:00

(H2H) wishes all our American friends a safe and happy July 4th!

The Wine Rack: Giving New Meaning to "The Four Cups"

2011-07-01T15:48:00.008-04:00

Are you tired of bars that never serve kosher wine? Looking for a way to bring your favorite Goldstar Beer to the game? Need a little extra help getting through that repulsive Jdate? Well my tribe-tastic friends, your prayers have been answered!

"Alcoholic's guzzle... I sip."

Designed for only the most refined of sumptuous Semites, the Wine Rack is a bra designed to hold your liquid poison of choice! Simply fill the disposable flasks, place inside the wine rack and adjust! When you're ready, attach nozzle and sip away! This functional feminine flask carries 50-fluid ounces of your favorite beverage!

The really good news is you'll most likely be too inebriated to notice all the gawking stares and horrified looks of your companions as you suck liquid from a tube attached to your breasts that simultaneously deflate in size.

Smokers should be advised to use caution.

Let's Get Honest in Here....

2011-06-30T16:42:00.000-04:00

Check out my latest video! And, let me know what YOU think!

With special thanks to the people at RRC and PunkTorah who inspired this series. And, be sure to check back every Thursday for more honest conversation on the Jewish world.

Tribetastic Fashion!

2011-06-30T09:10:00.000-04:00

July 4th is fast approaching and if you’re still searching for the perfect outfit to rock both your Jewish and American pride - never fear! H2H has found the answer for you! Simply, check out these tribe-tastic cords from Bonobos:

Who needs JDate when you can advertise for free?

If you love these cords as much as I do, you can purchase them here.

JITN: Go the F**K to Shul

2011-06-30T07:36:00.003-04:00

Since its release, Go the F**k to Sleep has elicited many fans and many critics. The latest attack called the book a violent attack against children and said, "Imagine if this were written about Jews, blacks, Muslims or Latinos."

As it turns out, the folks over at Tablet Magazine decided to do just that. You can check it out here:

The Jewish Fail Awards - June 22nd to June 29th

2011-06-29T10:40:00.019-04:00

This week brought an innumerable amount of Jewish Fails to the attention of H2H. In truth, it was hard to narrow it down. However, after careful consideration, H2H is once again proud to present The Jewish Fail Awards for June 22nd to June 29th. Enjoy!

JEWISH FAIL AWARDS

6-22 to 6-29

Breaking News: Women are Ruining Liberal Judaism

2011-06-28T11:55:00.006-04:00

There seems to be a never-ending series of articles about who is ruining Judaism and Jewish life in America.

Sometimes, it is the Synagogue and their inability to effectively engage young Jews. Sometimes, it is the economy forcing people to devote more hours and time away from home. Sometimes, it is Rabbinical Students and their views about Israel. But finally, we have an answer to the downfall of at least one segment of Jewish life in America:

Women...

"I make men hold hands and sway."

This, according to a new article by Rebecca Tuhus-Dubrow entitled “The End of Jewish Men” in which she explains that the declining numbers of male involvement in Synagogue life are a direct result of women becoming more actively involved.

Your Friendly, Jew-Free Skies

2011-06-27T14:58:00.011-04:00

Bad news, Jews! Cancel your summer plans to the Saudi Kingdom!

"Not Saudi Arabia."

Delta airlines has once again found itself in the midst of a Public Relation’s nightmare. For those who missed the first nightmare, Delta came under fire three weeks ago for charging soldiers returning home from Afghanistan nearly $2800 in extra baggage fees.

Jews Love To Volunteer... Just Not For Jews

2011-06-27T13:10:00.007-04:00

Remember that witty and brilliant Public Service Announcement for the American Jewish World Service? If not, you can check it out here.

Turns out, it is a good thing that non-Jews are supporting Jewish organizations, because a new study on volunteering trends among young Jews (18-35) found millennial members of the tribe consistently prefer to volunteer for distinctly non-Jewish service.

The survey, entitled “Volunteering + Values: A Repair the World Report on Jewish Young Adults” found young Jews were driven to volunteer primarily through universal values, rather than Jewish ones.

"Screw you, Star Trek, for teaching me universal values!"

What do an Anarchist, a Fanatic and a Criminal have in Common?

2011-06-24T09:59:00.010-04:00

This week’s Torah portion (Numbers 16-18) tells the story of a man named Korach. Korach rebelled against Moses in a bid for leadership of the Israelite people.

In truth, Korach actually wanted to usurp Moses – the story goes – for the right reasons and intentions. But, instead of just saying that, he said a whole bunch of nasty, inappropriate things about Moses which embarrassed him.

So, God responded by swallowing him up into the ground.

Those of us who have devoted our lives to the Jewish people try to spread our message of Jewish life and living in a multitude of ways. Some of us serve as clergy, Hillel leadership and educational directors in schools across the nation. Some us create new media - running online synagogues and developing video. Some of us write witty blogs.

And, some of us break into our neighbors homes and smash all their idols...

You’re a Man – Now, Go Slap Some Booty!

2011-06-23T11:46:00.006-04:00

About the most exciting thing that happened at my Bat Mitzvah were the deviled eggs, which is why this story is too distastefully delicious to pass up.

This week, Flo Rida took to the stages of Shaar Hashomayim Synagogue in Quebec, Canada for one lucky young man’s Bar Mitzvah. Sources remain silent on how much the rapper was paid for singing his chart topping hits to the delight of screaming pubescent fans, but according to all accounts, it was a wild and sweaty evening for these Canadian members of the tribe.

"You're a man... Bitch!"

The Jewish Fail Awards - 6/15 to 6/22

2011-06-22T13:18:00.012-04:00

Recently, I have noticed a stream of brilliantly impassioned series of tit-for-tat articles about Israel and her fate in the online Jewish world. If you are anything like me, the back and forth is enough to make your head spin. Or, turn off your computer...

Thankfully, there are still such gems (like below) from the viral world which provide wisdom on difficult discourses.

"I think it looks like a cat."

What this clever video teaches us is that some of us see a horse. Some of us see a butterfly. Some of us see horses which are actually moths.

You carry the fate of us all, little one.

Playing on the Internet is a Full Time Job - Six Tips for the Dazed and Confused

2011-06-21T10:14:00.065-04:00

"Welcome to the Online World."

Recently, I came across the article Judaism on Demand on eJewish Philanthropy. In it, the authors discuss the benefits that Jewish Organizations could receive by developing and using new media effectively.

I wish I could say I was a fan of the Using Technology Wisely section of eJewish Philanthropy. Despite a litany of articles on online engagement, they all seem to say relatively the same thing – you should be using new media. So, they offer opinions without any practical advice about how to establish these systems.

Yet, this is the heart of the problem. They can’t offer practical advice because they are in the very same boat as the majority of the Jewish organizations they are attempting to help. They view the system from the outside, or peripherally, but they are not actually apart of the online world and its momentum.

Understanding the Jewish Movements by Comparing Them to your Favorite 80s Toys

2011-06-20T20:23:00.018-04:00

Recently, a friend asked me to explain the various Jewish denominations in America.

To re-iterate, there are several Jewish movements in America and each movement has its own interpretation of observance, methodology for interpreting Biblical text, differing understandings of Jewish Law and the role of the messiah.

Frankly, it's all very complicated...

Which is why I have decided to un-complicate it by comparing the Jewish denominations to your favorite 80s toys. (And, it's just so much more fun this way!) For those of you searching for your own place in the Jewish denominational spectrum, I hope you will find this quirky guide helpful in your own religious and spiritual pursuits.

Finally, please remember that like all our favorite 80s toys, every game has its challenges. But as long as you are still playing a game - you'll probably get some form of wholesome, educational benefit.

Snow Globe Judaism

2011-06-16T12:01:00.014-04:00

"But now," says the Once-ler,

“Now that you're here,

the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.

UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better…

It's not.”

-Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

I am sitting in a classroom in Jerusalem, Israel and trying not to roll my eyes. My classmates have spent the last forty-five minutes debating the addition of the imahot (the names of the mothers) into the Amidah, the central prayer of the traditional Jewish liturgy.

Tempers and accusations flare. For many, the addition is the equivalent of Jewish pandering, a direct offense to Halacha and liturgy. For others, the exclusion of the imahot is a direct affront to their sense of integrity and fairness.

For myself, I don’t really care.

Correction: I do care. But, it’s not an issue I want to spend more than five minutes thinking about. Include the imahot, or don’t. Make a decision with your community and move on.

What’s the problem?

Instead, I’m staring at all my classmates in disbelief (still trying not to roll my eyes) and feeling the length and distance of our different upbringings - mine secular, them from day school and Jewish summer camps - like an immovable weight between us.

I didn’t know what the Amidah was until I was twenty-five years old.

To be certain, I went to Hebrew School. I learned all my prayers (albeit poorly) by seventh grade. I had a Bat Mitzvah at thirteen. I even went to Camp Ramah for a month, USY pilgrimage, Hebrew High School and grew up in a kosher home. But, for the life of me, I never knew there was a central Jewish prayer, or where it was, or what you did with it when it came around... until I went to Rabbinical School.

“I am the Lorax. I speak for the trees. I speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues,” by Dr. Seuss keeps running repeatedly through my head. And, I realize I have a choice - to sit in class quietly while this debate rages on - or to be that person (again) who has to go there and say it.

So, I raise my hand.

“I don’t want to talk about the imahot when there are so many other real-world issues facing the Jewish world. I don’t want to talk about the Amidah before we talk about the service, and why so many young Jews don’t feel connected to their Synagogue anymore. And, I don’t want to talk about the Synagogue, until we talk about the people who aren’t in the pews, but live in our communities. Talking about the imahot is a privilege. It’s the equivalent of debating what color the carpet in your house should be – when you haven’t built a roof – and, it’s about to snow. ”

The conversation ends.

Recently, my friend and colleague, Patrick, who runs PunkTorah, wrote a blog in defense of his opinionated Judaism. He spoke about his own internal struggles, with whether or not his opinions were right, and the backlash he sometimes receives from pushing the envelope of what was Jewish life, and what will hopefully become Jewish life.

Patrick and I are often (though, not always) on the same page, which is why we have committed to work together in the coming year. Despite some theological differences, we both want a go there Judaism. We both want a Judaism that can deal with the issues - the real issues - with thoughtful, reflective and proactive answers.

I’m not afraid of the question.

We don’t talk about these things in Rabbinical School. But, I want to know. I want to know how we can expect people who don’t read, speak or understand Hebrew - to sit for three hours in primarily Hebrew services on Saturday morning and find meaning?

I want to know how in this economy, with foreclosure and job loss affecting everyone - we can ask people to spend their savings on kosher food, day school and Jewish summer camps?

And, I want to know how we can expect a Jewish-American community, a generation cash strapped and rent-poor, who has seen terrorism in the US, wars in the Middle East, and a rapidly changing family structure - to blindly support the institutions of their parents and grandparents without knowing where their money is going and how it is being used?

Heschel no longer applies.

I see two camps developing in the face of this Jewish uncertainty. The first camp wants to close rank. Silence is better than free thought or discussion. Stay the same and everything will … stay the same. So, we’ve stopped hiring women Rabbis. Or, we admonish Rabbinical Students for discussing difficulties with Israel. Or, we ignore the issue completely and talk about baseball and gefilte fish.

The second camp feels compelled to push. The second camp believes in access points and confronting difficult questions. The second camp knows that change is inevitable. So, we side-step Halacha in favor of Halicha (or walking) the path.

You can guess what camp I’m in…

It is not easy to be in the second camp. It takes a tremendous amount of courage. Contrary to popular belief, receiving hate mail is not fun. I also have an enormous amount of anxiety around my actions. I am certainly not a tzaddik. I am probably not even a very good student.

But, I feel responsible.

I am not afraid of the risk to myself. Perhaps it is the benefit of a life with Chronic Illness, but I don’t look very far into the future. If tomorrow I was completely cut off from the Jewish world, thrown into herem (excommunication) and refused employment, I would move on.

I've always wanted to work in a Tanning Salon...

Snow Globe Judaism is pretty and safe -- but it is also stagnant and unchanging. I never wanted to be the person banging on the glass, but the cracks were there long before I started shaking its shell. And, while it will always appear that I am destroying Judaism to some, I may be saving it for others.

That is, at least for me, a good enough reason to keep fighting.

Life Tumbles On

2011-06-10T22:27:00.009-04:00

It is 10:00 PM at night and everything I own is crammed into twenty-three free boxes offered up by the local liquor store.

I don’t have a problem. My husband is cheap.

I’m standing outside my apartment in the suburbs of Philadelphia and saying goodbye. The heat wave has broken and the cool breeze reminds me how beautiful life can be. I’m sad to leave RRC, Philadelphia and another phase of a very long journey.

It’s not the end, but it is different.

At the bar next door, a song blasts from the rafters. I haven’t heard that artist since I was in high school, when my sister’s boyfriend shared the CD with me.The boyfriend is no longer a boyfriend. In fact, I don’t even know what happened to him. But, I remember the song.

It’s funny what you remember.

This week brought many changes: the death of a friend, the death of a family member, the birth of a baby, the wedding of a cousin. Sadness and joy, all wrapped up into one ironic crescendo of sound and music.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But, it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Because unlike the young woman who started this blog, so concerned with whether or not she would be a fish or a duck, I know where I stand. I know who I am. And, more importantly, I am surrounded by people who love me.

Life tumbles on… tumble together.

Jean and Xhevair's Closing Montage from Therese Farrow on Vimeo.

Chase Cheating - A Jewish Response

2011-05-26T15:06:00.009-04:00

Tosefta, Bava Kamma 10:14 states, "It is worse to steal from the many than to steal from an individual, for one who steals from an individual can appease him by returning the theft: one who steals from the many, however, cannot (since he does not know all the people from whom he stole)."

Today, I am ashamed to be Jewish.

For those of you unfamiliar with Chase Community Giving, the program is designed to help small (and sometimes struggling) charities garner much needed grants and funding in a difficult and turbulent economy.
It is a fantastic program with a simple concept. Utilizing Facebook, the charity with the most single-use votes can win prizes ranging from twenty-five thousand to one million dollars. Charities are responsible for using their online communities, as well as enlisting the help of their friends and families, to garner these votes. At the end of the voting round, the money goes to the charity, who may use the grant as they see fit.

That being said, if you think Chase Community Giving is merely online pocket change, the program doles out close to five-million dollars a year - making it a formidable player both in the online (and offline) world of giving.

So, what went wrong?

I won't attempt to re-hash all the gory details of the discovery here, but I invite you to discover for yourself where the story began at: http://nopostergirl.com/2011/05/25/cheating-in-chase-community-giving/ And, where the story ultimately ended at: http://nopostergirl.com/2011/05/25/chase-cheating-part-ii-vote-for-schools-and-promote-anti-bullying/ and here:: http://nopostergirl.com/2011/05/26/chase-cheating-iii-compensationgiveaways-for-votes/

In summary, members of the Jewish community decided that the easiest way to guarantee their votes and a successful win was to pay people to vote. For 14-28 credits a piece at EasyCash! on Facebook - five Lubavitcher schools received nearly a million dollars in tax-free grants.

What is the point of teaching Torah if we do not practice it and model it ourselves? To be clear, there is an infinite amount of Jewish law on business ethics and fair dealings with ourselves and our neighbors. There is the concept of geneyvat da’at – or “stealing a persons mind” and relates to prohibitions on false packaging and false labeling. There is the commandment regarding accurate weights and measures in Leviticus 19:35-36, and there is the commandment not to deceive your neighbor in Leviticus 25:14 which states, “When you sell anything to your neighbor, or buy anything from your neighbor, you shall not deceive one another.”

Whatever Chase Community Giving will ultimately decide regarding VoteFive.Com is irrelevant, because what really counts to me in this situation, is that a fellow Jew has left an indelible and ugly mark on my Jewish experience. A fellow Jew has stained my relationship with my community and my non-Jewish neighbor. A fellow Jew has hurt me... and countless others... for a gym.

"The Rabbis taught: A person should not remove stones from his domain into the public domain. It once happened that a man was removing his stones from his domain into the public domain, and a hasid found him. The hasid said to him, "Empty-headed! Why do you remove stones from a domain that is not yours into a domain that is yours?" The man laughed at him. A few days later, the man needed to sell his field, and he was walking in that same part of the public domain, and he tripped over those same stones. He said, "That the hasid said rightly to me: why do you remove stones from a domain that is not yours to a domain that is yours?" (TbBQ50b)

All private domain is public. Our actions always count. And, when we remove the stones from our fields, and place them in the pathways of others, we build the stumbling blocks that we will eventually trip over.

The actions of those who paid for votes will change how non-profits function online. It will change how non-profits seek to utilize social media, and how they garner support for and fund projects going forward. And, it has begun a nasty and problematic precedent for manipulating social media towards victory. A precedent which will affect every single non-profit (Jewish and otherwise) in the future

Unfortunately, Jewish law does not allow me to apologize for the actions of others. But to all those who worked tirelessly to support their given charities on Chase Community Giving, I hope this post relates my deep embarrassment, shame and appreciation for your honesty and hard work.

And, I hope those who engaged in buying votes under deceptive practices will reflect on how their behavior has hurt everyone, both in the Jewish community and beyond. And, I hope they will take the appropriate steps to make Teshuvah, between man and man… remembering that the gate of tears (to Heaven) is still open.

Food, Fathers and Lessons in Love

2011-05-25T11:28:00.003-04:00

http://www.mostjewish.com/blog/entry/My-stories-from-Fat-Camp-have-a-hidden-moral/

The "Get Real" Generation

2011-05-20T18:17:00.007-04:00

I just finished watching a news conference between President Obama and Benjamin Netanyahu from the Oval Office. I am stunned. In the brief moment that Obama handed Netanyahu the world stage, what was usually a fairly perfunctory and diplomatic presentation to the world, became something remarkably different.

Netanyahu was honest.

Immediately, the media was saturated with stories of Netanyahu’s brilliance in the moment. Instead of talking to the President, he spoke directly to the American people. And, in doing so, he went from being an untouchable political leader, to a man deeply concerned about his nation and his people.

He almost seemed vulnerable.

I think about this concept of honesty often in terms of my own Rabbinate. I value honesty. I need honesty. I have a knee-jerk reaction to secrets and hush-hush behavior. For me, trying to fit into someone else’s ideal box, feels like being eaten alive from the inside out.

Which makes me a problematic Shabbat guest...

But, I also know that our need for honesty as individual people stands in stark juxtaposition to our other rabbinic ideal of being a symbol. So, there’s this delicate dance we learn to do as students – to talk around our feelings, to hide our beliefs, to lie about our practices. And, we think (and are instructed by the powers that be) that our job is to conform. That being a nice parve cookie after six years being spun around in the Cookie Rabbinical Factory will make us relatable and marketable.

But, it's not working...

If you were to ask me what I think about my generation, I would say we are the “get real” generation. We are the generation that grew up with the Real World - where seven strangers, picked to live in a house, stop being polite and start getting real. So, we saw Stephen slap Irene in Seattle, Ruthie go to rehab for alcoholism, and Pedro, an openly gay and HIV+ patient, struggle to live in a house with Puck. And, through it all, they revealed their innermost thoughts and struggles in the Confessional.

And today, confessing is normal.

My generation is the generation of demystified celebrity. We’ve watched Presidents impeached from sexual impropriety in the White House. We’ve watched married sports stars embroiled in scandal. We’ve watched our favorite Disney princess become a drug addict and shoplifter.

And today, perfection is not trusted.

My generation grew up with AOL and chat rooms, which later became Facebook and Twitter. And now, your eighty-year old aunt and your Jewish mother know what you did last weekend. My generation was babysat by Oprah, and when Oprah couldn't mend us, Dr. Phil could. And Dr. Oz ... well, he would talk about your poop.

And today, there are no more secrets.

Except for the Jewish world - still living in some bygone ideal which never existed - and wondering what it's doing wrong. But, if there’s a lack of passion in the young Jewish world, it is because we have no passionate leaders. If there’s a lack of engagement in the young Jewish world, it is because we have lost our essential, honest selves. And, if there is a lack of connection between us and them -- it is because we’ve stopped connecting with ourselves.

Rabbi as Entrepreneur: 8 Lessons

2011-05-19T19:26:00.021-04:00

Recently, I have been asked by several colleagues for my advice in building a business and becoming an entrepreneur in the Jewish world. Since this question has arisen on more than one occasion, I thought it would be worthwhile to post some of my personal rules for business and development. As I always say, I have no trade secrets and only want to see the entire Jewish world thrive and succeed with their many talents, for our many different communities.

That being said, the following guidelines are not meant to serve as absolute rules and statutes, but rather, as starting points for your own journey as you develop your creative niche. If you have any questions, I am no further than an email away.

1. Find Your Gut:

Many years ago I dated a very successful man who told me something very wise. He said, "The key to success is in your gut." The relationship didn't last, but the advice did. Today, I still follow his words of wisdom.

The first trick to becoming a successful entrepreneur is committing to your vision of the world instead of waiting for someone else's vision of the world to conform to yours. To do that, you need to find the thing that thrills you or excites you, angers you or impassions you, eats at you or inspires you -- and you need to follow it. You will know you're on the right track when it burns up your belly and keeps you up at night. If you learn how to identify, and follow, that feeling - it will take you where you need to be.

2. Understand your Place "to Every Season"

You can't be an engineer without spending some time in Engineering school. Part of being a successful entrepreneur is knowing when you're ready and when you're not. You don't want to break out of the gate, if you've never been on a track.

3. Trust Yourself

This is one your Academic Advisor and teachers don't want you to know -- they are people too. Unfortunately, because they are people (albeit people with possibly more life experience than you) they have opinions, biases and flaws. So, breaking news... they are not always right!

Which is why before you go and take any bit of advice or criticism that comes your way - you need to ask yourself, "Do I trust this person's opinion more than myself?" If you do, take their advice. If you don't, respect their opinion but brush it off. The truth of the matter is (at least in my experience) there are usually more wrong people in your path than right. So, stick to your guns.

4. Weigh the Costs v. Benefits of your Time:

Let's face it -- there are a million ideals in the Jewish world and only a limited amount of time. So, you need to do a serious analysis of your time. What makes you different, unique, marketable and cool is directly correlated to what your passionate about. If you are spending all your time in class, and not creating something outside the classroom, then you are not developing a niche, and you become one of many faces of the same in the Jewish world.

In the same regard, you may feel compelled to spend twenty hours a week in Modern Hebrew or Talmud Study, but if you can't funnel that learning into real world projects or a future career, you are wasting your time. Remember that old saying about a tree falling in a forest and no one hears...

5. Don't Put School First and Employers Second

This is the cardinal mistake I see Rabbinical students make, and this is, perhaps, the most practical and relevant advice I can give you: the most important work you do in Rabbinical School is outside the classroom.

Because I come from a business model, I often think, "Who is the client in this situation?" When you are a student, you are the client. When you are an employee, they (the employer) are the client.

That being said, your first responsibility is always to your employer. If you cannot manage class and work -- you should drop classes. If you are slacking on work to keep up in school -- you should drop classes. And, if you are taking jobs without any upward momentum so you can focus on homework -- you should drop classes. Remember, at the end of the day, your school is not going to get you a job, but your employer will.

6. Invest in what you Believe In:

Basic economic rule: you don't make money without investing money. Or, for those of us with poor cash management skills: you won't win the lottery if you never buy a ticket.

That being said, your dream project will not just burst fully-formed from the head of Zeus. Creating the career of your life takes time, devotion, energy -- and yes, it might even take some of your money. If you are not prepared to spend hours creating your dream project, or risk losing cash in the process, then you need to refer back to guideline number one and re-evaluate the path you are on.

7. Don't Make Decisions Out of Fear:

Being an entrepreneur means having to brave all sorts of challenges, storms, opinions, and frankly, haters. It is tough to be different and not everyone is going to be happy with your success. In the Jewish world, especially, they will let you know.

Get over it.

Don't make any decisions out of fear. Don't not do something because you're afraid of what someone else will think or how it will affect your future. And, don't do anything out of that same reaction.

In my experience, every other emotion you will encounter in creating your own business is vital. That includes anger, sadness, hurt, love and joy - all which propel action. Fear, on the other hand, is stagnant and disables. Which is why you need to shove it down and away so you can concentrate on your work.

8. Don't Be Afraid To Fail:

No matter how brilliant you are -- you are going to fail. Own It. There is nothing wrong with failing. In my own experience, some projects I've started have been wildly successful, and others have failed miserably. Yet, much like Facebook statuses, most people won't remember the details of your disaster. If you are so focused on your failures, you can't focus on finding the one person to say, "Yes!" So, stop whining and find that person.

Love Letters to a Jewish Soldier

2011-05-08T17:21:00.011-04:00

In the process of packing for our upcoming move to DC, I came across my husband’s war journal.

Before deployment, I asked each of our friends to write a letter of support to my husband. Together, we presented these letters at his last Shabbat dinner before heading off to war.

I pasted these letters onto the pages of a small black, leather journal which he would then take with him to Iraq. My hope was that these cards and notes would sustain him in difficult times.

I was shocked to see that over the course of fifteen months, my husband had continued pasting the mail he received during his time in Iraq into this journal.

In truth, I would give up my right arm before having to go through deployment again. But, in reading these letters, I found myself smiling. They ranged from inspirational to downright hilarious. Yet, no matter what the content, all of them were filled with love.

Life is filled with trials and tribulations, but it is that uncertainty which reminds us how to be joyful and reveals the wisdom in the human experience. And so, I share with you some highlights of these love letters to a Jewish Soldier... from his community:

MY GIFT TO YOU BEFORE DEPLOYMENT

By the time you read this note, we’ll have separated. I won’t say ‘gone’ because gone is too final – and what we have is not final.

We have a long road ahead of us. I am not naïve about the challenges, nor am I naïve enough to think that merely love will see us through. It won’t. It will take work, and time, and commitment, and tears. I know all this. I know you know it, too.

Remember that even though I am not always the best at describing my love, or need, for you, I will always ‘do’ for you. So count my love by the actions – the letters, packages, notes - and this journal... which I hope will sustain you throughout this journey.

HOPE, FEAR AND DOUBT: A PRAYER

As you encounter hope,

May your feet take you where you can celebrate.

As you encounter fear,

May your heart point you to the loving faces of friends and family.

As you encounter doubt,

May your eyes be guided to walk faithfully,

On the sands of uncertainty.

In this season of hope, fear and doubt,

We journey as a people from liberation at the sea,

To revelation at Sinai.

As you deploy,

May you find yourself on that journey,

And God’s blessings in the wandering.

CAUTIOUS AND ENVIOUS:

I must admit that I am happy and appreciate how lucky I am not to be in your boots right now. Yet, on another level I am somewhat envious. You have the opportunity to dig in, get your hands dirty and try to help people to improve their lives… gratitude to you and the thousands of your fellow soldiers who worked so hard to make a better time possible.

YOU WERE THE LAST PERSON:

My brother from a different mother! You were the last person I ever figured would sign up for the military!

LOVE IS A GIFT TO BE NURTURED:

My final advice to you is be happy! Even when things are bleak – you have people who love you. Never forget that and never take it for granted…. And the only way to guarantee them is to never lose sight of these truths, and do all you can on your part to nurture them.

FROM THE DOG:

Until you return, I’ll be here waiting… making sad puppy noises.

HEBREW SCHOOL LESSON:

Aviva is teaching me and forcing me to wright this letter. hebrew school is fun. I saw my friends underwere and it had curios gorge on it. as I am here wrighting you a pig made out of paper is staring at me. the sign on the door says, “Welcome to Japan.” I wish my toilets were pink.

REB NACHMAN QUOTE:

“But know that every person’s obstacles are according to their powers, as much as they can take and withstand if they wish to. And, in truth there are no obstacles, for even in the obstacle there is the Blessed One cloaked within the obstacle. “

Dear Jewish Professionals...

2011-05-03T10:16:00.015-04:00

When my husband was about to deploy to Iraq, I helped him pack.
Packing a soldier for a year at war is more complicated than one might think. All their articles - from boots to sleeping bag - has to be crammed into one medium sized, canvas duffel bag. It leaves little, if any, space for personal items or personal luxuries.

I will never understand how someone could spend fifteen months in a war zone and only bring a duffel bag full of clothing. I can barely go on a weekend trip - to visit my parents - with less than a large suitcase. But, soldiers learn to live with (and in) situations that most of us will never have to experience.

What most people do not know, however, is that my husband went to Iraq with a pair of broken boots. The sole of the right boot was completely ripped through, and when he flexed his foot, you could see the bottom of his sock.

"Why don't you buy new ones?" I asked him, oblivious.

"The new ones give you blisters," he said matter-of-factly.

"What if it rains?"

"These are broken in."

"I'd feel better if you had boots that weren't ripped through..."

"We're getting new boots next month."

Whether a glitch in the Military system, or just poor planning, my husband never received new boots. During his last week of training at Fort Dix, it snowed. My husband marched for three miles while ice water seeped into his shoes. A month later, he was in Iraq - where he spent fifteen months in those broken boots.

He never complained.

When I heard about the death of Osama Bin Laden, I cried. When I heard that in the midst of this operation - this extraordinary and fantastical operation by Team Six of the Navy Seals - that the helicopter broke, I laughed.

Of course...

            As an Army Wife, you are privy. Privy to the pillow talk, memories, experiences and challenges of a life in uniform.
             My husband is twenty-six years old. He has been deployed to Iraq twice. He has spent three years in prisons, in battles and on bases. He has been shot at, slept under mortar fire and picked up the pieces - noses and hair - of suicide bombers.
            He would never claim that war changed him, but it changed me. Troops on the ground are not the only ones who suffer difficult exchanges, painful losses or humorous incidents.

Disconnect.

I get so frustrated with the Jewish world, sometimes. The word disconnect repeats maliciously in my brain. Truthfully, I'm annoyed. In recent days, I have seen a plethora of postings from the Jewish professional world on Facebook, and online, admonishing those who have celebrated the accomplishments of the US Military against the war on terror. I even saw one colleague refer to our US Military as "men with guns."

Men with guns...

Don't you realize that those men with guns have families? Don't you realize that those men with guns, packed a bag, kissed their wives and children goodbye and never knew if they would make it home? Don't you realize that those same men, just three weeks ago, were going to work without pay because the US Government hadn't come to an agreement over budget?

And, don't you realize that people have died? Don't you realize that it's not just about 9/11 - but a decade of attacks orchestrated by Osama Bin Laden in places like Iraq, Yemen and Jordan.
Where were you, with all your moral outrage, then?

In the Reconstructionist Movement, we often talk about living in two civilizations. As a Reconstructionist Jew, there is no conflict between being both American and Jewish. The identities inform each other, compliment each other, and merge into something more creative and vital than either identity alone.

But, truthfully, I feel more at home in my American identity, primarily because, at times like these, the Jewish world feels so far removed from reality. It's the same feeling I get when Jews assume my husband (who is a convert) speaks Hebrew, or that I, as a Rabbinical Student, simply must come from an observant home, have attended Day School and Camp Ramah.

I didn't.

Like most American Jews, I went to Public School, attended an abysmal Hebrew School and didn't step foot in Hillel once during college. As a young adult, I dated non-Jews, worked (and ate) on Yom Kippur and didn't re-find my Judaism, or begin learning Hebrew, till my mid-twenties. And, when I fell in love with a soldier - a non-Jewish soldier - I was only doing what comes naturally, and often occurs, in my first civilization.

I married my hero.

And now, as a Rabbinical Student, I find myself struggling to explain this civilization - my America - to my Jewish colleagues. And so, as someone who was in New York on 9/11, who sat with friends that had no bodies to bury - and also as a Military spouse, who sat by the phone during attacks and prayed for her husband to call - I desperately need to give you, the Jewish Professional, some words of advice from the frontlines.

Know who sits in your pews.

The news of Osama Bin Laden's death is complicated and painful. It brings up memories. It brings up emotions. And yes, it inspires passions. But, because you do not know who is sitting in your pews, you need to be conscious. Conscious of the fact that someone might have lost a loved on. Conscious of the fact that there are Jews in the military. Conscious of the fact that it's easy to admonish from the safety of ivory towers or plush pulpits.

Secondly, you need to give people time.

You need to allow people the room to process. You need to allow people the room to grieve. You need to allow people the room to be angry. You need to allow people the room to celebrate. But most importantly, you need to allow people to come to you - with their questions - before providing them with your answers.

There is a time to every season. There is a time to talk war and peace. There is a time to talk outrage and understanding. There is a time to talk politics and principals. But, now is not that time. Now is a time to simply be present. To listen with open arms. To comfort with open heart.

To be the presence of the divine in an uncertain world.

Why It's Okay To Celebrate

2011-05-02T18:45:00.006-04:00

I cried when I heard Osama Bin Laden had been killed. Not paltry tears, but throbbing sobs that forced my whole body to convulse and shake. In six simple words and a declaration from our President, all the memories and feelings of that day came back.

How did I forget?

I was twenty years old and a Senior at NYU on 9/11. To describe the events of that day is nearly impossible. It's not that I forget, but rather, I remember too much. I remember the plane. I remember the towers. I remember I walked... and walked... and walked. I remember turning my apartment into a makeshift shelter. I remember mourning with friends.

But, I don't remember crying.

As both a New Yorker, and now, a proud Army Wife, the death of Osama Bin Laden brings with it a wide range of complicated and difficult emotions. I have experienced the painful reality of terrorism firsthand. I have kissed my husband and watched him go off to war. I have convinced myself of the need for sacrifice.

But, it will always hurt.

The rational part of me knows that the war is not over. Osama Bin Laden's death may bring relief, it does not bring closure. It will not bring back loved ones. It will not bring our boys home. The world has become so uncertain.
I cry for the certainty.

What has this decade brought us? Not just terrorism and war, but tsunamis that ravage populations, hurricanes that destroy cities, earthquakes that wipe out nations, diseases that can't be contained and economic crisis. What cause is there to celebrate?

Every cause in the world...

If I am overwhelmed with pride and joy today, it is not because a man died. It is because we have survived. It is because we lost the people we loved, but loved anyway. It is because we looked evil in the eye, but stayed good anyway. It is because our world became damaged and scarred, but lived anyway.

It is because we love this country, anyway.

I am so proud of America. I am proud of the people. I am proud of our men and women in uniform. I am proud of the families who support those in uniform.
And, yes - I am proud of the New Yorkers who sang and chanted on subways across the city. I am proud of the cadets who sang, "God Bless America" in sweaty uniforms on Academy grounds I am proud of the sports fans who chanted, "USA" from their seats at a game. I am proud of the face paint, the car-hopping, and the costumes. I am proud of the laughter, the joy and the heart.

I am proud that after all this - we still celebrate.

Writing Again

2011-05-01T07:59:00.001-04:00

I've decided to start writing again. If you are interested, you can check out the progress of my latest project - a young adult novel - here. I will only be posting online till the end of the first act, so after that, you will have to hope it gets published! Feel free to leave comments! Thanks, Jean

http://www.webook.com/project/Camp-Paradise

Who's Afraid of the Slippery Slope?

2011-04-13T18:08:00.006-04:00

I love Margaret Cho.

If you have ever watched Margaret Cho do stand-up, than you know she has this brilliant way of using humor to shine light on difficult topics. And, if you've never watched Margaret Cho, then I invite you to check out one of my favorite clips from her below:

Silence = Non-Existence

Recently, I launched a new initiative called Rabbit Stew. My attempt in creating Rabbit Stew was three-fold: to gain greater recognition for the amazing work of the Reconstructionist Movement and RRC, to provide a place for outreach and education, and to help other Rabbi's and institutions think about how they can use new media effectively. In general, the feedback has been very positive. But, I'm also shocked by the level of resistance I've seen in the Jewish world regarding Rabbit Stew.

What are we so afraid of?

Ironically, every clip used in Rabbit Stew, was also one of the most popular videos on YouTube. Yet, what works for three million people in the virtual world, doesn't work for the Jewish community.

How many of those three million people are Jews?

Everyone in the Jewish world likes to talk about the slippery slope. If we remove the choir on Yom Kippur, if we put guitars into our services on Friday night, if we talk about Israel, or intermarriage, or homosexuality, or women, or change, or modify, or modernize - everything will go haywire - and Judaism will cease to exist.

News Flash: We're on the slippery slope.

I often think, "What Would Kaplan do?" One of the most transformational Jewish leaders of the 20th century, Kaplan had the bravery and courage to meet the people where they were. He created the Bat Mitzvah, the JCC and a whole host of other programs that, unfortunately, both he (and the Reconstructionist movement) no longer get credit for.

When did we stop being revolutionaries - and become status quo?

I keep a series of quotes taped on the wall above my computer. They help to keep me honest. The latest one I have up is from the article, 'The World of the Synagogue and the Second American Jewish Revolution: Some Reflections' by Steven Windmueller, Ph.D.

It reads:

"We want to move from being seen as builders of institutions to being identified as enablers, allowing for relationship, engagement, and connection to define our standing and our message for those in search of religious meaning, personal relationship, social action, and a commitment to serious Jewish learning."

I don't work for institutions. I work for people. I work to be an enabler. I work for relationship, for engagement and connection. And - God help me - as long as there is breath left in me, I am going to be working for that - for you - for the disconnected, the disappointed, the angry, the hurt, the lost, the searching.

Because, I've been there...

And, because the greatest threat right now facing the Jewish world isn't in Israel, in intermarriage, in homosexuality, in women, or in change - it's in the leadership.

The Dean of RRC Responds

2011-03-23T21:56:00.002-04:00

Or, why RRC is the greatest Rabbinical School on Earth:

So, you want to go to Rabbinical School...

2011-03-09T20:51:00.004-05:00

A little something I whipped up for Purim:

The Business of the Synagogue

2011-02-27T15:23:00.002-05:00

Recently, I have been developing an at-home business. In the process of defining my new entrepreneurial endeavor, I've been thinking a lot about what is right, and what is wrong, with the modern day Jewish Professional, and how we, as young leaders, can help mediate the costs and benefits, desires and wants, of our modern Jewish communities.

Unfortunately, like so many who work in the Jewish Professional world, we know that too much emphasis gets placed upon the Jewish and not enough on the Professional in our organizations. In this regard, many of our Synagogues and schools have heart - but not enough business sense. Thus, funds are used up on programs that don't succeed, services are feted out when they can be better used elsewhere, and no one is satisfied.

There is a better model. It's called economics.

Now, I can imagine a giant gasp of disbelief rising from the throats of my colleagues across America at this very moment. I know what you are thinking - by virtue of being places of worship, representations of God, and in service to the community - a synagogue cannot, and should not, function on a business model. To do so would mean turning persons into commodities and prayer into market driven economies.

But, this is a dangerous fallacy. Let me be clear, my desire in this essay is not that economics should ever replace our desire to do what is good and right in our Jewish communities and for our Jewish family. But, one must question, if we are truly serving the needs and wants of our communities - then why is Synagogue membership, attendance and affiliation dwindling?

Rather, adapting the synagogue to a functioning business model, driven by the needs of the market, will make our houses of worship more effective, and thus, more closely align the desires of lay people and clergy.

In this regard, I have provided a few tried and true rules of economics, adapted to, and for, Synagogue life. This is by no means meant to be extensive review, but rather, a starting point for a discussion on the changing face of our Jewish world.

*Find a Market Niche

Successful businesses identify and latch onto trends that have upward momentum. It is not enough in today's world to simply be a Synagogue. Rather, your Synagogue or Hebrew School must provide some product that cannot be met either online, at another Synagogue, or another educational institution. A successful Synagogue or Hebrew School will define itself as separate and distinct - not just by affiliation - but by the values, events, and programs it creates.

*Trust Markets To Make Better Decisions than Managers

Excess product is an inefficient use of resources. What do I mean by excess product in the world of Jewish professionals? Programs which cost money to create, and which no one attends, are excess product. Hiring clergy, clean up and kitchen staff for Shabbat services (filled with empty seats) are excess product. In all these cases, managers are making decisions devoid of the market. To re-envision the Synagogue model as a business would mean beginning with the needs of the people, and developing programming and services designed to suit those needs.

*Do Not Expect The Market To Adapt To You

This will, perhaps, be the most difficult bit of economic advice for a Jewish professional to swallow. People in business do not expect the market to adapt to them, they work with the market to create goods and services that people demand. Jewish professionals and Jewish organizations that remain stagnate, refuse to change and adapt, will fail. Jewish professionals and Jewish organizations are flexible and creative, that work in partnership with the market to create product and services that are desired and needed, will succeed.

*The Value Is In Implementation

Theory doesn't get your phone to ring. The trick in running a successful Synagogue is having the courage to overturn an entire industry, to make the business of being Jewish more efficient, and in the end, make life better for our 'customers.' If synagogues were meeting the needs of the market in this way, than there would be no failing congregations.

The Shabbat Conundrum

2011-02-24T12:22:00.013-05:00

The first thing I did when I left JTS, was to put my hot plate in storage. At the time, I was resolved to re-envision the halachic system for myself. After all, the previous three years I had been devoutly Shomer Shabbos, and my own (and my institution's) insistence on living within a halachic system - as someone also living and struggling with Chronic Illness - had brought me many lonely afternoons and hungry nights.

As a Reconstructionist Jew, I cast off the fettered chains of Halacha. I stopped checking Shabbat start times and lit my candles when memory served me. I cooked late into the evening, and made omelet's for my husband on Saturday morning. I drove - to synagogue, to the park, to the mall. I was absolutely free in my observance. I had, as my friend once put it, my Saturday's back. But, something never felt right...

I missed my hot plate.

The Mishnah is clear about the prohibitions regarding cooking on Shabbat. It states, "If a double stove were heated with straw or rakings, they may place on it cooked food; but if with peat or wood, one may not set until he shall have raked it out or covered it with ashes." (mShab 3:1-5)

In many ways, this Mishnaic law implies an even more stringent practice than what many today, even in the most Orthodox of communities, observe. Not only should one not cook on Shabbat, but according to early practices, all fires had to be out before the start.

Yet, in the same regard, this system, though severely rigid, also created a space for shared meals and community via the eruv. Maimonides states, "And what is this eruv? It is the fact that they are all commingled by means of one food that they deposit from before the onset of the Sabbath. That is, we are all commingled... just as all of us have equal stakes in this place, so all of us have equal stakes in all the places that everyone claims for himself, and thus we are all one dominion." (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Eruvin, 1:6)

In this way, the restrictions serve, on one hand, as stringent requirements on personal behavior, but on the other hand, increase community involvement. Private space becomes public space, individual meals become communal pot lucks, and before you know it, these interactions create a special "spice" that only Shabbat can bring. (Gen. R. 11:4)

I've been thinking about this concept a lot. How is it possible that restriction brings joy? How is it that rules and regulations, in truth, limitations - bring about a sense of completion, wholeness and peace? And, why is it so difficult to find that space, that community, that joy - on what would otherwise be considered an ordinary Saturday?

Time moves quickly. For most of us, our days flow seamlessly into one another. We seldom stop to be aware. Before we know it, our angst over dating, has turned into a marriage. Our angst over unemployment, has turned into a full time job. Our children grow up. Our parents die. Our careers end. And, we are left with all the words that we should have said, all the opportunities we took for granted, all the dreams we never captured. Time is the greatest deceiver of man.

In some odd way, I should know this better than most because I am sick. My time is limited. My life is restricted. My hours to function - to see my family, to go to school, to work, to love my husband - slowly dwindle away. (Tick, tock, tick, tock, goes the clock...) For me, every minute, every second, every experience, on this planet, in my life, in this broken body - counts.

Yet, I couldn't be more grateful.

I think that's the point of restriction and joy on Shabbat. It's not so much about the food, or the eruv, or even the law - but about building the physical walls and limitations of time. To create a space - a sacred space - where everything stops, and you give yourself the ability to focus on what really matters in this complicated world - your family, your friends, your God - because, it will be over before you know it.

In the meantime, I've dusted off the hot-plate.

And They Lived...

2011-02-20T17:59:00.001-05:00

Jean and Xhevair from Therese Farrow on Vimeo.

Dvar Torah -- Temple Sinai

2010-12-19T19:28:00.001-05:00

The story is a simple one. In Kiss Good Night, by Amy Hest, a mother bear is attempting to get her baby cub, Sam, to sleep. Mother begins, diligently, with all their nighttime rituals. First, she reads Sam his favorite book. "Ready now, Sam?" "Oh no," says Sam "I'm waiting." Then, she carefully tucks Sam in, head to toe, with his favorite red blanket and stuffed animal friends. "Ready now, Sam?" "Oh no," says Sam "I'm waiting." So, they share a glass of milk. "Ready now, Sam?" "Oh no," says Sam "I'm waiting." What could Mrs. Bear have forgotten? She thinks and goes back over her bedtime list and then remembers. "Kiss goodnight, Sam." She kisses him once, twice and then twice more... and Sam drifts off to sleep.

Six months ago, I accepted a position teaching Kitah Daled at Temple Sinai. What a blessing it has been. How fitting, therefore, that this week’s Torah portion, Vayehi, also speaks of blessings. After one hundred and forty seven long years, Jacob is dying. From his deathbed he calls his grandchildren, Manasseh and Ephraim, to his side. “The God before whom walked my father’s Abraham and Isaac, the God who has shepherded me ever since I came into being… bless these lads!” Then, he calls all his sons - each a forbearer of one of the Twelve Tribes of Israel – and with poetry and exaltation admonishes and blesses them.

It is a powerful and moving scene. Despite a family filled with rivalry and rejection, sacrifices and successes, blessings and curses – Jacob’s life is completed. The blessing of Abraham, which Isaac bestowed on him, has now passed down to his children’s children.

This tradition of blessing our children is one we continue today. Every Shabbat, parents recite the blessing of Manasseh and Ephraim to their own children. There are many variations on how the blessing is made. The most common version is for the father to put his hands on the child's head and recite the blessing, but in some homes, this blessing will be done by the mother, or by both parents, and of course, it is usually followed by a kiss.

But, this blessing is not meant to be simply route words or meaningless transmission. This blessing exists to make sure the child feels special and loved. It exists to boost the child's self-esteem, and to give the child fond memories of family and Shabbat. It is an amazingly important ritual, and one which, in our busy and hectic worlds, we all too often forget.

I have taught and worked with children for many years. Not only as a Jewish educator, but as a television producer writing and developing educational programming for the Discovery Channel and TLC. I have seen all sorts of things – bad behavior and good behavior, incredibly gifted students, and students who struggle with disabilities, children who are naturally determined and children who get frustrated quickly. Yet, the one thing that always strikes me about working with young people is how easy it is to get them to believe in themselves. How nothing counts more in a classroom, then getting down on your hands and knees, looking a child in the eyes, and saying, “I see you. I believe in you.”

When Jacob blessed each of his children and grandchildren, our sages tell us that each blessing, matched the inner traits of his soul and his actions. The lesson in this is abundantly clear - every soul has a particular virtue. Every child has a unique gift. Our job, as parents and educators, is to help our children become the best they can be.

What do we want from our children? When I look at my students, I am awestruck by the potential that exists in their smalls hands. I am amazed by their quiet moments (and sometimes not so quiet) moments of genius. I am inspired by their curiosity – a light that shines through their eyes - and reaches for knowledge. And, I am hopeful – hopeful for the future of the Jewish people, and hopeful for the world. William Blake once wrote, “To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.” Every child has infinite potential.

The truth of the matter is we don’t want the best for our children… we want them to be better than our best. We want them to surpass us. We want them to outgrow us. The blessing of Jacob to his children, and to his grandchildren, is not just an acknowledgement of their talents, but a realization, a hope, that their generation, and the generation after them, will be better than our own.

What do I want from my students? I want them to love learning Torah. I want them to feel comfortable with the language of our text. I want them to internalize the values of our tradition. And, I want them to be able to take those lessons – into fifth grade, and sixth grade, and high school, and college – and wherever life may lead them. I want them to know, that no matter what journey presents itself, the Synagogue is here for them. Our faith will harness them. Our tradition will support them.

We see you. We believe in you.

And, as for Sam, our baby bear that refused to go to sleep -- what a wonderful lesson. What do we really need in our lives? Yes, a safe and warm shelter, a comforting glass of milk to sustain us, but more than anything, we need that kiss goodnight, that blessing from our parents, that belief from our teachers and our community. When we have these things, when we are nurtured and supported, we cannot help but grow.

Dirty, Little Secrets

2010-12-06T16:58:00.008-05:00

For a long time, I have debated writing this post. As if, talking about my experiences while a student at the Jewish Theological Seminary would somehow betray those clandestine conversations long embedded in the stones of the ivory tower. Or worse, that talking about those experiences, as a disabled woman in a male-dominated institution (without a disability department) would mean, once again, having to explain to strangers, why I count.

Today is the four-year anniversary of the Conservative movement’s decision to ordinate gay and lesbian students, and to perform same-sex Commitment Ceremonies. Ironically, for most of the Jewish world, the day will pass with little, if any, recognition of the fight that continues amongst the students and faculty of the Conservative Movement’s flagship institution.

I am not gay, but, as a woman living with chronic illness, I know what it feels like to be, at best, invisible, and at worst, undervalued. When I made the decision to leave JTS, it was for one reason, I knew I had lost my voice. In the walls of the Ivory Tower, I had become silenced. I had forgotten how to speak. Yet, I understood that to be the best Rabbi I could be, I had to be in a place that fully supported my development and formation as a leader.

Ironically, I have now moved into a place in my Rabbinic Career where people are not only asking for my opinion, but they are willing to pay me for that opinion. Perhaps what shocks me most about this fact is how quickly it occurred. We all need to be supported, but perhaps, more importantly, we need to know we are not alone.

At RRC, I have been taught that my face – this face of Torah – will serve thousands like me in the future. At RRC, I have learned that my experience – what some call disability – is a platform for reaching millions. At RRC, I have discovered my voice – this powerful, problematic voice – has a sacred purpose .

I am not the other.

When I remember my friends at JTS - the ones I left behind - I think about all the potential lost in that wrestling. I think about all that promise falling onto deaf ears that will never understand. I think about all those useless hours of conversation regarding Halacha, or saving the movement, or preserving tradition – while ignoring the experience of the person sitting next to you in class.

A Christmas Story

2010-12-05T16:58:00.010-05:00

“Ohhh…Christmas Trees!” I squeal in delight, as I stand mesmerized between six aisles of tinsel and sparkle on Holiday display at Target.

In truth, I have always loved Christmas. I can still remember, in vivid clarity, walking down Fifth Avenue, arching my neck to see the glittering display of ornaments and lights, while a world of people cradling brilliantly wrapped gifts buzzed past. I can still recall, with the precision of my tongue, the taste of Gravlax served four ways at Café De Artistes on Christmas Evening, and the feel of garland beneath my fingertips as I plucked its stems in wonderment. And, I can still feel the frost of a window pane in a hotel room, thirty-eight stories tall, as I pressed my face against the cold, while watching snowflakes dance and fall over a pallid New York. Everything was magical. Everything was beautiful. Everything was spectacular.

There was only one problem... I was Jewish. And, if there was any rule in our house regarding religious obligation, it was this: “Absolutely, without a doubt, without a hesitation, there would be NO Christmas.” This rule, unfortunately, included Christmas trees, Christmas decorations, Christmas colors, Christmas caroling and Christmas songs. And so, every year, like lunar clockwork, my mother and I engaged in holy war, a battle of wits, like Judah Maccabee versus The Santa Clause, on which holiday would win.

When I was six, I snuck a seat on Santa’s lap during a school party. When I was eight, I plastered my walls with green construction paper in the shape of a tree, than decorated it with colored circles shaped like ornaments. When I was ten, I hung my dirty socks with tape all over my windows, hoping Santa would make his appearance.

Yet, at each injunction, my mother discovered my treason. She told me with great irritation that Santa Claus didn’t exist. She tore down my make-shift tree in a fury. But, luckily, she had no idea what the socks were for…

Looking back on it, I can’t help but wonder if my love of Christmas developed from a fascination with 'the other.' After all, growing up in South Jersey, it seemed there were three things you needed to fit in: blonde hair, a small frame and a tan. Blessed with Ashkenazi good looks, myopic vision and sturdy Polish stock, needless to say, I had none of these things.

I so desperately wanted to fit in. I so desperately wanted to be like my classmates, who ate Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwiches for lunch, instead of Bagels & (Fat Free) Cream Cheese. Like my friends, who brought chocolate chip cookies to school, instead of a Fruit Kugel (that no one wanted to eat). Like everyone else, who took ballet lessons or played on sports teams, while I spent hours crammed into windowless rooms, with bored teachers, parsing Hebrew vowels.

Christmas became a representation - an ideal - for which I could never be a part of; as if, all of America lived decorated in cashmere, smiling gloriously up from the pages of a JCrew magazine – while I was stuck being used as packaging for the Kosher Experience.

Perhaps, one of the most important things I ever did for myself was to reclaim my Jewish identity. If I had spent a childhood wrestling with the world, my adult life would be a dismissal of all things ordinary. Like my hair, I would be unmanageable. Like my nose, I would be unique. Like my hips, I would take up space. I was everything a Jewish woman should be, a sumptuous Semite, undeterred and unfettered, living and breathing in this intoxicating world.

What does it mean to be Jewish in America? In truth, I no longer believe in hyphenated identities. After all, that would be entirely too limiting. I am not a Jewish-American. Nor, am I an American-Jew. I live in multiple civilizations. I exist in multiple worlds. And, I am utterly and totally at peace in that chaotic space.

And, as for that tree?

The Menorah may never thrill me the way the colors and trinkets of Christmas do, but when I look in the mirror, I see the face of my mother - her love and fight - reflected in my eyes. When I wrap myself in the tallis, I feel the warmth of my history - six thousand years - cradling me in its cloth. When I open the prayer book, I hear the words of my people – the evolution of a soul – and I open my mouth and sing my praises to them.

Who am I?

I am all the people before me, and all the generations after me, that share this story. This nose, this hair, this skin, these hands -- that are fond of Christmas – but light the Menorah. I am a beautiful Jewish woman, living in two civilizations, holding my hands up against the light.

The War Room

2010-11-28T17:30:00.008-05:00

Last week, I made the difficult decision to drop one of my classes. At the time, it seemed that all my self-defeating thoughts about life with chronic illness were coming true: I am a failure. I am giving in. I am losing myself to this disease.

When I woke up this morning, I had ten emails. Most of them were from my ME/CFS family. I spent the first three hours of my morning answering these emails. No matter what importance you put on tests or homework, when someone needs you, there is no greater good.

I believe that.

My number one priority is to be there for the people who need me. My goal is to use this life – in all its pain and anguish – for a higher purpose. This is what keeps me going.

This is what keeps me fighting.

My husband likes to joke that even when I’m resting, I’m working. There is truth in that. Even though I’m sitting on the couch, I am working: Yes, I will judge your competition. Yes, I want to work with your organization. Yes, I will start a discretionary fund.

I am not the woman I thought I would become. In truth, I am better than the woman I thought I would become. I am grateful for my disease. I am grateful for the lessons it taught me. I am grateful for the people I have met – my ME/CFS family – and all their pain and suffering, and the courage that allows them to share their suffering with me.

They remind me why I must go on.

This couch is not a prison. It is a war room.

Brain Fog

2010-11-26T14:53:00.009-05:00

words –

used to come

so easily.

like floods

of rain

that appear

unexpectedly

then disperse

to reveal

a dove.

now

these words

come slowly

limping

like Jacob

in the desert

after battle

with a stranger.

or Isaac

blind who

cannot see

the son

that stands

before him.

me -

i stutter

my tongue

can’t capture

the language

of my soul

i want to sing

with words unbroken

and a chorus of angels

at the foot of Sinai.

am I apart of your history?

if you find me -

in these stories

in these words

Uplift Them

they are the truth of a nation broken into stone

Winter - A Poem

2010-11-24T11:57:00.007-05:00

The trees in my backyard are bare.

Fall is over.

Winter presses Her lips against the sky and blows.

I can see my breath in Her bluster.

A cloud of white that forms funny shapes,

Than dissipates into the wind.

One moment I am here,

And then I am not.

Everything is waiting to be reborn.

To hold tight to what is no longer.

Why do we insist?

Fallen leaves make a path.

I wander down the road towards home.

Unbroken

2010-11-20T08:32:00.008-05:00

This week, nearly 10-years after the release of her best seller, Seabiscuit, Laura Hillenbrand is publishing her latest novel, Unbroken. In it, Hillendbrand tells the story of Louis Zamperini, an Olympic athlete turned Japanese POW who endures incredible hardships during World War II. Despite, Zamperini manages to maintain his faith and optimism despite overwhelming odds.

Yet, Laura Hillenbrand’s stories of courage expand far beyond the pages of her books. Hillenbrand has suffered with ME/CFS for 25 years. In that time, she has primarily been bed bound. Often too ill to write, book tours are out of the question. She has only left her house twice in the last two years.

Perhaps she identified with Zamperini for the same reason Seabiscuit spoke to her - both are stories of extraordinary hardship and the will to overcome them.

When I was first diagnosed with ME/CFS in 2000, a heavy debate still raged over whether this disease was physical or psychological. Often doctors mislabeled ME/CFS as depression. Patients were described as malingerers seeking attention. These diagnosis (or verdicts) sentenced patients to a dual hell. Now, they were both desperately ill and disbelieved. Many patients lost their jobs, their friends and their families. If depression came, it was secondary, the result of an incredulous and skeptical world, and a medical community unwilling to help.

Thankfully, in recent years, that debate has long been laid to rest. ME/CFS is physical. But the repercussions of that debate, and the lack of understanding associated with a debilitating neuro-immune disease tastelessly named “Chronic Fatigue Syndrome” continue.

Looking back, it’s amazing to me that anyone could see ME/CFS patients as depressed. If anything, in my work with ME/CFS patients, I have discovered a community of tenacious and stubborn survivors.

I’ve met men and women who are completely disabled, many who haven’t left their home in years, who wrestle and struggle, come to blows, and battle the titans of government (from their couches) in order to raise awareness and fund a cure. I’ve met men and women on the brink of poverty, often choosing between food and medical care, who manage to keep their sense of humor. And, I’ve met men and women who have lost the people they love - their spouses and their friends - who still believe in the goodness of humanity and the ability to find love.

These people are unbreakable.

This week was the closest I have ever come to my breaking point. I’ve been ill all week and my blood work is a mess. Things that should be there - are missing. Things that shouldn’t be there - have appeared. And, perhaps, worst of all, no one seems to know what to do about it.

I feel like a petri dish… bobbing along alone on the waves of a vast ocean.

I can honestly say that this is the first time in the history of my disease where I have been scared. I cried. My husband cried. And then, we ate dinner. Why? Because, I’m still here. Despite sore throats and fevers and night sweats and blood work that makes no sense… I’m still here. I’m still fighting. I’m still kicking. I’m still struggling. I’m still wrestling. I’m still laughing.

I am unbroken.

*To view an interview with Laura Hillenbrand, and to learn more about Unbroken, please go here: http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/261848...72753#40272753

"And God Laughs..."

2010-11-17T14:59:00.005-05:00

I should have called this blog, “And God Laughs.”

If there is anything I have learned in this short life, it is that God hates long-term planning. Ironically, though, for the last several years, I haven’t been planning. When I fell in love with my husband, I steadfastly stood by him, a soldier, and survived my first deployment. When my personal theology changed, I gathered up my courage, filled out an application and transferred schools. And, as I became sicker with ME/CFS, I resigned myself to smaller goals and different avenues for faith.

It was never easy, but that’s the way it is with chronic illness. You’re always making difficult decisions. So, you grieve, you feel sorrow, you might even cry yourself to sleep - but, you can’t stay there - because ‘staying there’ means destroying all hope of the good years, the good moments, you’ve got left.

‘Staying there’ is the ultimate surrender.

What have I wanted to accomplish in this life? I wanted to create something with words that would live on long beyond me. I’ve done that in television and film. I wanted to change how people think. I’ve done that in my interactions with friends and family, at Rabbinical School, and online. I wanted to help others with ME/CFS. Without a doubt, I have.

Michelangelo once said, “I saw the angel in the stone and carved until I set him free.” Right now, I’m not sure if I’m the angel or the artist in that metaphor, but one thing is certain, I’ve carved the stone till my hands bled.

I’m proud of the work I’ve done. I’m proud of the life I have lived. I make no apologies for my choices. I make no apologies for my mistakes. I have accomplished more – despite insurmountable challenges – than most healthy people will in a lifetime.

So, here’s the big news: I’ve decided to move to DC with my husband.

But, before you throw your hands up in disbelief, there is a catch - I have decided not to give up my dream of the Rabbinate. RRC (being the most amazing Rabbinical School on the planet) is going to help me work out a schedule that can accommodate both my illness and the distance.

It’s not going to be easy. I foresee mountains of paperwork and many meetings ahead of me. I also don’t know how even minor commuting will affect my health. I’m scared of the future - but I’m not ready to stop dreaming.

Adversity is not a negative. Adversity is vital. It is a learning experience. It propels us to re-evaluate, to change and to grow. And, if I can hold onto faith - and perhaps even rely on the faith that others have in me - I know I will be okay.

Leftover - A Chronic Illness Poem

2010-11-11T09:33:00.004-05:00

I am a leftover.
Such a sad, lonely state.
Alone in my solitude, ignored on a plate.
Placed in a freezer, wrapped up in plastic,
Labeled and tied with something elastic.

You might never guess that beneath this exterior,
I once served sixteen at Thanksgiving Dinner!
And oh, at that meal, how they "oooooh'd" and they "ahhhhh'd"...
At every bite of my delectible surprise!

But now, in this prison,
No one will touch me,
They've forgotten our good times.
They've forgotten our memories.

And me, well I know, I'm not like before.
Some parts are now crusty, some parts are now old.
I no longer bounce, but fall flat and cold.
I no longer leap, but limp from the core.

Perhaps I'm forgotten because I'm not seen?
Locked away tightly, that no hands can reach.
Guarded and sealed under layers of ice,
Waiting for someone to eat me tonight.

But maybe, one day, if the desire should strike you...
You'll open the freezer and search through it's platitudes,
You'll peer through it's trenches! You'll stretch out your hand!
And, realize that leftovers can also be grand.

Maybe I'm Really A Bad Person

2010-11-11T09:23:00.001-05:00

The concept of social justice makes me uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable in the same way speaking about organ donation, or blood donation, makes me uncomfortable. It exists in the world of what I like to call, “the healthy binary.”

The classification of two distinct forms, healthy and unhealthy.

When we think of social justice, we seem to have a predetermined set of activities in our mind. We imagine volunteering at a soup kitchen, peeling potatoes and serving heaping plates of food to the poor. We imagine knocking on doors, finding the silenced members of our population, and reminding them they have a voice, an obligation, to register and to vote. Or, we imagine hours spent in an office, writing political officials about international relations, demanding change and organizing rallies. This is the world of social justice I envision; and, I think this is the world of social justice Mordechai Kaplan envisioned.

Yet, social justice in this context exists only for people who are healthy enough to engage in the activity. I am too sick to volunteer at a soup kitchen. I am too sick to knock on doors. I am too sick to attend rallies.

All I have is a voice, and the power of my word.

I spend several hours a week engaged in ME/CFS advocacy. I run two groups online – the first, a support group for friends and family members of ME/CFS patients, and the second, an ME/CFS memorial page, designed to raise awareness about the seriousness and morbidity of my disease. And, while I have occasionally been asked to speak on the ‘spirituality’ of living with chronic illness, I have never seen my work as intrinsically Jewish, or religious.

Ironically, if anything, it is the opposite of philanthropic. Indeed, I would argue it is inherently selfish. I do this work for one simple reason, it gives me hope. I fight for ME/CFS - for recognition, for treatment, for a cure – because if I don’t, I will die. There is nothing courageous or benevolent in my giving spirit. It is simply survival.

Yet, in the midst of my own selfish actions, I have helped countless others. I have counseled ‘newbies’ (that’s sick lingo for newly diagnosed) on their darkest days. I have educated thousands, through media consulting and online videos, that changed how ME/CFS was acknowledged. I have helped inspire others, through emails and faxes, to change our government policies. And, I have provided a place – for those to cry, to laugh and to remember.

That has to mean something?

Yet, I can’t help but berate my intentions. When I help someone else, I help myself. When I educate someone else, I improve my chances for treatment and survival. When I inspire others to contact the CDC and NIH, to advocate through emails, faxes and letters – I advocate for myself.

There is nothing I want more than to get ‘better.’ To wake up and feel the breath of morning, without the overwhelming fatigue – and pain – and the constant, constant fight.

In this context, can I honestly say that the work I do is holy?

Perhaps, one of the drawbacks of being a rabbinical student is the tendency to over think things. I like the rabbinic solution to this dilemma, which is the מחשבה, or intention, is irrelevant, providing the action yields fruits.

I’ve planted the seeds and sowed the land – but still, I doubt the harvest.

Yet, I find extreme comfort in the Jewish concept of תפקיד and the writings of our sages regarding mission hood. Yes, I believe that God wants something of me. Yes, I believe that God gave me a specific mission to accomplish. And yes, I believe that God gave me the gifts and talents I would need to accomplish His goals. My own struggle with chronic illness – my doubt, my hurt, my sadness – is part of His divine plan for Tikkun Olam, to fix this broken world.

I am so lucky.

Each of us is blessed – with good and evil, miracles and curses, right and wrong. I believe, wholeheartedly, that there is a mission for each of us. For me, it will never be standing on line at a soup kitchen, knocking on doors, or organizing rallies – but I reject the notion that my version of social justice is less important. The inability to be ‘physically present’ does not reduce the action.

After all, the Mishnah says "Do not denigrate any person... because every person has his hour."

The Sick Rabbi

2010-11-11T09:21:00.000-05:00

When I first began my Rabbinic Journey, I was convinced I was destined to become the “Sex Rabbi.” After all, I adore talking about sex; and having spent 10-years living and loving in Manhattan, I was convinced I knew more about dating, mating and relationships than any of my JTS counterparts.

In recent years, however, I’ve realized that instead of becoming “The Sex Rabbi,” my destiny is more likely to become that of the “Sick Rabbi.” Not quite as glamorous, mind you, but thus, is the unexpected irony of living with chronic illness.

What does it mean to live with Chronic Illness and pray?

There is no longer an experience for me – including God – that is not filtered through the lens of my disease. To pray means having to re-arrange my schedule, to fit God into my limited good hours, to stuff myself with medication, all the while knowing I will have to give up something else to be present. To pray means having to worry about the physical, the ”stand-ups” and “sit-downs” of a service, pressing through the pain and exhaustion, while appearing normal and healthy on the outside. To pray means having to rely on my eyes, and the small print of a Siddur, which on bad days, swirls and makes tessellations that can’t be read, and a mouth that moves too slow to form the words. To pray means never knowing, if this one activity, the pushing through, will mean awakening to permanent disability.

This is my reality with Chronic Illness.

It seems unfair to devote only one-page this topic. After all, we could litter a library with all the stories of the invisible in our community. For those of us who are chronically ill, we too yearn for a place to express our spiritual longings. We too yearn for a God that represents our pain. We too yearn for a community that understands and considers us valued members of society. And, if the modern day creation of the American Synagogue is not the place that can best suit our spiritual and human needs, than it is time to develop a new modality of prayer – an online Synagogue - where services, chat rooms, bulletin boards and access to a “sick Rabbi” can meet the realistic and spiritual needs of all the members of our community.

Changes And Then Some

2010-03-21T02:06:00.004-04:00

Well, to all those who've been keeping up with my blog -- it's been a long time since I've posted! Sorry about that, but needless to say, there's been a million and one changes in my life. I am studying in Israel, again... planning a wedding to my wonderful fiance, Xhevair... and, most notably, I am no longer a JTS Rabbinical Student!

Instead, I made the difficult (but all too important) decision to transfer to RRC, or the Reconstructionist Rabbinical School in Wyncote, PA! I am extremely excited about the opportunity to learn in a truly egalitarian and pluralistic environment; and, even more excited to discover and uncover the philosophies of Mordechai Kaplan -- it's founder -- and to help bring this incredible way of living, breathing Judaism to the people! That being said, if you'd like to learn more about Reconstructionist Judaism, I invite you to check out the JRF website at: www.jrf.org or simply drop me a line to learn more!

To that effect, here is my first D'Var Torah as a Reconstructionist Jew! It was presented in Jerusalem at the RRC Minyan (check it out, if you're here!) on March 20th, 2010.

Enjoy! And, feel free to pass it along!

D'Var Torah - Vaykira - RRC Minyan (March 20th, 2010)

2010-03-21T02:03:00.002-04:00

I am staring at a war photo. Yet, there is no combat in this picture. Instead, it was taken in a studio before the wedding of Marine Sgt. Ty Ziegel and his fiancée Renee Kline on October 7th, 2006. In many ways, it is a typical wedding photo. The young bride, wearing a white wedding gown with red trim, holds a bouquet of roses while her groom, dressed in Marine blues, leans casually beside her. It should be the perfect, romanticized image of young love in a time of war.

But, it isn’t.

It takes only a few seconds to realize that Sgt. Ziegel is horribly mutilated beyond recognition. A victim of a suicide car bomb in 2004 in Iraq, he no longer has ears, or a nose, and his skin is a mismatch quilt of grafts and implants.

He is unrecognizable.

This week, my fiancé finished his tour of duty in Iraq. After fifteen months of service as a soldier in the United States Army, he’s coming home. I can’t help but compare myself to this image – the long nights of waiting and wondering are over, and my husband will soon arrive in Israel relatively unscathed.

Yet, I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness in our blessing. For every soldier who comes home to hugs and banners, one comes home in a flag draped coffin escorted by guards. For every soldier who returns to his family whole, one returns broken – wounded by physical scars that will never heal, or the psychological traumas of battle that can’t be seen. And, I think about all of them– all the soldiers, all the wives, all the husbands, all the parents, and all the children. And, I know, they must ask themselves - was the sacrifice worth it?

This week’s Torah portion, the very beginning of Sefer Va-Yikra, the book of Leviticus, deals with the sacrificial offerings made in the Mishkan. The parashah outlines each different type of sacrifice, who brings it, and how it is carried out. And, there’s been plenty written on the “meaning of sacrifice” in Vayikra. After all, our commentators tell us that the root for sacrifice, kaf/resh/bet, also means to draw near. And so, they tell us, inherent in all sacrifice is the unconscious desire to draw nearer to God.

But, I reject this notion.

I reject the idea that there is a simple, sacred recipe to forfeit and faith. And, I refuse to tell you that sacrifice has meaning. I refuse to, and I can’t. Because today, I am an Army Wife whose husband is coming home.

Perhaps then, the only lesson I can take from Vayikra, is this; that when the community of Israel comes together to sacrifice - they come together as a whole. They come together in support of each other’s offerings.

We cannot understand war, without understanding its result. We cannot talk about politics without remembering the 6,386 men and women to date who have given their lives to Operation Enduring Freedom in Iraq and Afghanistan. We cannot think about tzedakah and social justice and social action without remembering that in our current war, nearly 96 percent of the wounded survive, returning home with lifelong wounds and scars. The result of war, its effect on our soldiers and their families, is something we as a people, and a nation, must face.

The Talmud states that in the age of the Messiah, when there is no more sin and no more war, the only class of offering that will be brought to the Temple will be the Peace Offering. And the message in this is clear; God does not demand sacrifice. God demands peace. God demands that we work towards fulfilling his vision of Tikun Olam, perfecting the world, in chesed and righteousness and love.

Let us not be doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past. Let us not be blind to the sacrifices of those in our midst. Let us not be silent, but demand in righteous anger a response equivalent to the task. So, that there will be no more wars, no more casualties, and no more sacrifices.

Shabbat Shalom.

Waiting For My Hero

2009-05-28T14:02:00.002-04:00

Waiting For My Hero

Grocery Shopping

2009-03-15T15:17:00.006-04:00

There’s a couple walking down the street.
Sunday groceries in hand, she laughs and leans into him.
I wonder what they're planning to make for dinner.

I’m living with a ghost.
After dinner, I stare at the sink.
Dirty dishes, you would have taken care of that.

I hate it when everything I trust,
Closes in on me, and threatens to swallow.
If there was a moment without you, would it still be love?

I wouldn’t change this, though.
This longing.
This waiting.

Constant.

How lucky we are to understand,
How lucky they are,
To go grocery shopping on Sunday afternoon.

What I Have Learned In My First Week of Deployment

2009-02-23T17:43:00.002-05:00

As some of you know, this is my first relationship with a military man. I was engaged, less than a month ago, to my best friend and the love of my life. I don’t regret meeting him. I don’t regret falling in love with him. I don’t regret saying, “Yes.” It was the best decision of my life.

I say this even though I knew loving him would come with deployment.

There are a lot of things we are told to expect as Military Wives and Girlfriends. Absence, silence, separation - we prepare the best we can. We organize our lives for departure. We become friends with other military wives. We arrange to be "busy". Maybe we believe that if everything is in order, supported and netted, full of activity, we won’t miss them so much.

It has been one week since my fiancé left. I miss him. But, it doesn’t surprise me that I miss him. I knew I would miss him. It doesn’t surprise me that I wear his t-shirts. I’m still searching for his scent on the cloth. It doesn’t surprise me that I spend hours staring at his pictures, or watching his favorite TV shows. It makes me feel closer to him.

What surprises me is the sacrifice.

If you were to ask me what I have learned in my first week of deployment, it is this; there is no end to the self-sacrifice of a military wife or girlfriend. She is always the one who will hide her tears. She is always the one who will suppress her anger. She is always the one whose emails will be longer. She is always the one who will hang up the phone last. She will do, and do, and do. And all the rules of normal relationships, with there polite discourses about “give-and-take,” over who makes dinner and who cleans the dishes, no longer exist.

As a first-time proud Army Fiancé I now truly understand the meaning behind the term "Silent Ranks". I couldn’t be prouder to stand among these women -- the strength behind the strong.

World War III

2008-08-20T14:00:00.002-04:00

In college, as part of my required credits in World History, I took a course on World War II. I don’t remember much about that class (or any other World History requirement) except this one fact: By the time Hitler declared war on the Soviet Union in 1941, he knew that his military machine was running out of fuel. Yet, despite this fact, Hitler continued diverting necessary war efforts away from General Rommel and his possible control of oil fields in the Middle East, for a continued campaign of murder against the Jews.

Had Hitler decided to divert manpower and resources to Rommel, German forces could have driven out the few British bases in that region. In this position, Germany could have easily conquered the Middle East, garnering control of over 75% of the worlds then known oil supplies, and ending the war in German victory.

Last week, Russia invaded the seemingly innocuous country of Georgia. For many this event went by unnoticed, a strange political maneuver performed “somewhere else” and easily overshadowed by the ensuing Olympics.

Yet, I can’t help but hear the echoes of World War II rippling through the headlines. After all, the gas and oil pipelines that run through Georgia are of strategic importance to Western Europe. They reduce dependence on Russian supplies and do not cross Russian territory. But, with many European nations still completely dependent on Russia for oil, they are blackmailed into silence.

Putin is holding the world by its barrels.

More recent headlines continue to raise my suspicions that the world is gearing up for some great conflict without directly saying so. This week alone, Indian officials approved a $1.5 billion Israel Aerospace Industries project to develop and upgrade the Barak surface-to-air missile, as well as a $270 million purchase of Rafael's SpyDer defense systems. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice and Polish Foreign Minister Radek Sikorski signed a deal that will put an American missile defense base in Poland (a move which has, of course, angered a resurgent Russia.) And today, Syrian President Bashar Assad left for Moscow to negotiate an agreement that would consider deploying Russian Iskander missile systems in Syrian territory.

So, we’re building up our defenses…but we’re still missing the point.

Without creating a homegrown alternative fuel, America will have no choice but to enter into a global conflict over energy. It will boil down to oil, and I apologize for this sad prediction, but America will lose. (It doesn’t take a military genius to realize that if you can’t fuel the tanks, you can’t win a war.) And so, like the lessons learned in hindsight during a college World History class, if you want to understand today, you have to understand yesterday.

We must end our dependence on oil.

Yet, after 30 years of sending trillions of dollars to OPEC, nobody knows how to do this. Republicans and Democrats are both at fault for allowing this situation to fester as long as it has, and regardless of party lines or personal agendas, the next president’s number one priority must be to lead us into a sane energy situation.

Otherwise, the effects will be catastrophic for all.

Street Corner Symphony

2008-06-14T22:52:00.010-04:00

This morning, I wake up to a Street Corner Symphony. The radio rings out only happy tunes, cheerfully keeping time with the swinging blinds. Outside, people walk in remarkable unison. The world has never looked so beautiful.

I can feel the sunshine.

This weekend, I went to the Emmy awards. Nominated again, I find myself at my first industry event in more than two years. It’s a strange feeling to sit in a room with four hundred people and their dreams, and realize that those dreams are no longer your own.

At one point, I had wanted nothing more than to hold that gold statue in my hands. The weight of success between my fingers, I knew the hunger that surrounded me. And so, when my colleagues took the award for Outstanding Children’s Series, I was thrilled; but, I was also just as happy when I lost for the New Approaches category.

Walking home (it was Shabbat) I longed for my Jewish community. I envisioned Aaron, his first time visiting CBST, finding his spiritual home. I pictured Eric, cooking something awesome, getting tipsy from one glass of kosher wine. I saw Jonah, desperately missing Julia, thinking anxiously about the wedding that was only hours away.

These people, little handfuls of skin and Earth, they make me go on.

The amazing thing about Rabbinical Students is they believe, more deeply than anyone I know, in their childhood dreams. Not the dreams we take on as we get older, influenced and prejudiced by the world around us, but those essential dreams we talk about in kindergarten; when we make petitions for world peace, donate our toys to needy kids without provocation, or think our parents will stop fighting if we make breakfast. Those naïve dreams that say despite everything, including the odds, I can make a better world.

They make me a better person.

We may never win statues, but there is a certain boldness in that belief which I find unsurpassingly lovely.

Why America Hates Hillary

2008-05-25T11:15:00.014-04:00

From the first time my college professor suggested "coffee in the morning" as a key to success, I knew that being female in the Entertainment Industry would mean always having to fight. In order to succeed with my dignity intact, and my standards uncompromised, I would have to be more intelligent, more creative, and tougher than anyone else around me.

I would have liked to be nice about it. But, I never had the luxury to be nice about it.

America hates Hillary Clinton. Scrutiny over her looks, jibs on her sexuality, stories about her clothing - it’s a never-ending barrage of attacks. And so, she does her best to deflect the criticism; she wears pink, she cries on camera, she goes on Tyra to talk about her cellulite. She tries to appear gentler and kinder. She tries to appear more feminine.

She is feminine...

What we don't realize is we’ve perfected socially acceptable misogyny. We take intelligent women and call them ugly. We take assertive women and call them mean. We take independent women and call them lesbians. And, at the end of the day, America hates Hillary Clinton for the same reason they hated Martha Stewart: not because of what she did, but because she was a bitch about doing it.

We don’t argue Hillary Clinton’s policies. We don’t argue Hillary Clinton’s facts. We argue her femininity.

PS

2008-05-19T14:09:00.003-04:00

I normally despise poetry that rhymes, but alas, this is how it came out:

The Opportunity

2008-05-19T13:50:00.005-04:00

From my window I watch,
Tranquil trees sway,
Elegant dancers lining Broadway.

Moving with grace,
The chorus of a breeze,
Reaching their arms with loving passion out towards me.

Then the music stops,
The trees they must stand still.
The universe impedes their step, quickly changes their will.

I often wish that I could dance,
While also standing tall,
But the universe is clear on this, “One journey and that’s all.”

Today, I stand with arms reached up
Towards Heaven and the sky,
Listening for the whispering wind, praying for help from High.

Perhaps, we are not following
A calling like we thought,
But rather the calling is pulling us, bending us till we’re wrought.

All we can really do, then
Is just bend and sway with the breeze,
And hope that God’s plan for us is as lovely as those trees.

Poster Child

2008-05-15T18:59:00.001-04:00

http://www.jtsa.edu/x10149.xml

Village

2008-05-10T22:21:00.012-04:00

I keep using the word village, placing it in words and parts of speech where it doesn’t belong: I just saw that movie I Am Village. My parents have a Village on the Upper East Side. I love your village. Apparently, my disease has some unhealthy obsession with community.

My doctor doesn’t look at me when he talks. At least, not anymore. When I was twenty he smiled broadly, and promised me a thousand better days. But now, he just reads blood work: Epstein Barr. Elevated. 300% Above Normal. HHV6A. Elevated. 160% Above Normal. Mycloplasma Pneumonia. Elevated. 300% above normal…

I can’t write it down fast enough.

Maybe he’s grown tired of patients that never get any better. Or maybe it’s that I’m getting older and he knows the statistics: Suicide. Mean Age. Thirty-nine. Heart disease. Mean Age. Forty-nine. Cancer. Mean age. Fifty-nine….

Sometimes, they just lie down and never get up.

How ironic it is to have this heart placed beating so badly in a body that is always breaking down. I probably could have ruled the world, climbed Mount Everest, lived for a thousand nights like a Bedouin in the desert, but now, all I do is sleep. When I dream, I dream of cures. When I wake, the bed is soaked.

Night sweats.

Aaron brings me cupcakes from Crumb. You need to eat more, the doctor says. All I eat is frozen fruit. Nothing tastes right, but the cold of the frost numbs my burning tongue, and soothes my scratching throat.

I’m tired of being sick.

I toss around this concept called life in my head. But, my dog is in Heaven waiting by the swimming pool. My grandmother dances like a child in the lawn. My grandfather waves as he grills hotdogs from the porch.

And my friends, my friends, left long ago are also on their way.

Down in Fraggle Rock

2008-05-06T11:12:00.010-04:00

From the 27th floor of her apartment I can see the outline of New York City, from the cobalt Hudson to the outline of Central Park, and the countless panels of shimmering steel and glimmering glass held within her arms.

The view is magnificent.

I realize I haven’t stood on the top floor of an apartment building for months. After all, in order to forego the use of electricity on Shabbat most everyone I know has made the decision to live in apartments accessible by stairs. And so, my view has remained particularly low -- close enough to the ground to make out the moods and the faces of passing traffic.

Yet, I wouldn’t give up my view for the world.

As the school year approaches its sleepy close and the summer sun makes its first appearance, I begin the usual process of self-reflection. I have learned so much this year: how to read text, the intricacies of dots, the language of the prophets.

But above all what I have learned - really learned - is that beyond the countless hours of study, and the mounds and mounds of Hebrew homework, and a world that consistently tries to swallow you – are the people who love you.

Love anyway.

And that’s the funny thing about perspective: it can change. Like looking out from the 27th floor of your friend’s apartment building you realize you have been seeing things all wrong. And, that the true blessing of life is not in the realization, but that at any moment you can choose to depart from your current view.

You Asked For It...

2008-03-14T11:02:00.002-04:00

Many people have asked me to share with them my Dvarim from Seminary Shabbat. As requested, I have posted them below...