Showing posts with label Passover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Passover. Show all posts

Monday, May 23, 2011

A Belated Report: Passover with the Folks

It wasn't that bad.


But let's be fair, it might've been much worse if I hadn't cheated.

By cheated, I mean:
- Ate chometz (yes, lots of it) on Chol HaMoed
- Watched movies on my laptop on Yom Tov in my bedroom

Here's the thing: Shabbos (and by extension, Yom Tov) can be really nice in that it lets you sit and talk to people without the distraction of television, cell phones, internet, etc.. But two days of Yom Tov followed almost immediately by a day of Shabbos followed not so long after by two days of Yom Tov followed again soon after by another day of Shabbos? Kind of exhausting, actually. It may sound funny, but it's gets tiring being so relaxed.

And here's the other thing: I've realized that I really can't do Pesach (i.e., avoid eating chametz) without the belief that there's someone out there (i.e., God) who would punish me for doing otherwise. I detest Pesach food. It might not be as bad if my parents weren't kitniyot and gebruchts-keeping. But still, my diet is generally significantly reliant on dense, filling carbohydrates (read: breads and pastas). And matzah and potato starch (really even rice and other kitniyot) just doesn't cut it for me. I remember that when I was observant, I basically felt hungry for the entire week of Pesach. And let's not even talk about the kind of stomach aches I get from a week-long matzah binge (this actually still happened to me even when the matzah was supplemented with small doses of chametz).

In any case, I stand firm on my previous conjecture that Pesach is my least favorite of the Jewish holidays. (Yom Kippur is bad, but it only lasts one day!) And no matter the pressure applied by my parents, from here on out, I really can't see myself going back for Pesach. (Unless I ever move closer to them again, in which case I could see myself going back for part of it.)

And with Shavuot (a much better holiday, in my opinion) following so close on Pesach's tail, I imagine I'll be able to get away with such a stance. Cheesecake and blintzes, yum!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Anyone Else Hate Pesach? (Or at least the Ashkenazi Orthodox version?)

Last year, I did not go to my parents' house and instead had a non-traditional Pesach, complete with an "Eco-Seder," a Conservative seder, and a complete inattention to the holiday's particular kashrut laws.


This year, I'll be my parents' house and thus be subject to long Orthodox-style seders in which I will hear the same (LONG) d'var torahs I've already heard 20-some-odd times (some read directly out of haggadahs) and won't eat until almost midnight.

Then I will have an eight day stretch of matzah and potato starch. But no matzah balls or matzah lasagne or any other such delicious thing because my parents keep gebruchts. And naturally no rice, etc., because of kitniyot. My stomach aches in anticipation.

Yeah, I guess I should stop being so bitter and just try to enjoy what I've committed to doing. But I feel like whining right now. So that's what I'm doing.

On a more exciting note: I went to a Renewal service a few weeks back and it was AWESOME. I will report back on that experience soon.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

A Non-Traditional Pesach: The Report, A Wee Bit Late

I ended up at two seders this year, instead of the one as I had originally thought.

Neither seder was Orthodox and one was a lot less traditional than what I'm used to. The former was Conservative/Traditional; the latter involved a hike out into a huge, open field (in imitation of the Exodus) and lots of talk about EcoJudaism (which I appreciate, in theory, though I don't really always see as clear a corrolation to traditional Judaism as proponents of the movement seem to espouse).

After that, I didn't keep kosher for Passover. Sure, I ate some matzah, even a macaroon or two. But I also ate bread and bread-related products.

For me, this was almost a test: what does it feel like if I completely my own ties with Orthodoxy?

It was a pretty extreme move for me, because no matter how un-Orthodox I've been in the past, I've always cleaned my house for Passover, almost always at least made the effort to keep kosher for Passover (I think I'd cheated on that front once or twice), and always gone to Orthodox seders.

And that first bite of bread, to be honest, made me feel a little bit weird. As did the fact that when I got to my kitchen initially, there was chametz all over the place. But the weirdness quickly subsided and, after the first day, it didn't even phase me.

Which isn't to say that I forgot it was Passover. On the contrary, I remembered pretty clearly. And the non-Traditional seders were much more memorable and interesting than any Orthodox seder I've ever been to (though I will not presume that there aren't many Orthodox seders that far surpass those I've been to, in terms of being interesting).

The "Eco-Seder," in particular, was truly fascinating for me. I liked the way that it gave new meaning to the same paragraphs I've read over and over again, year after year. The seder felt fresh and new, which was really cool. And there was something particularly awesome about starting the seder out in the outdoors (we moved inside after "Avadim Hayinu").

Plus, the questions, connections, and insights people came up with were really thought-provoking. It felt alive.

This stands in stark contrast to the seders I've had with my family in the past, where my dad/siblings will read the same D'var Torahs written on the bottom of their hagaddot at every seder for years. It never really felt dynamic to me. (Again, this is in no way meant to suggest that all Orthodox seders are similarly boring.)

Pesach has long been one of my least favorite of the Jewish holidays (second only to fast days) - the seders dragging on for hours when it seems even those "expounding upon" the text aren't even interested in what they're saying, the unpleasantness of eating a matzah & potato starch diet for eight days...

This year, non-traditional though it may have been, I actually enjoyed it.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Two Things (Pesach & Marriage)

THING 1. I'm not doing Pesach this year.

I thought I wanted to do it. I had the whole idea planned out. And then one morning, I realized that I didn't want to do it. I'm not sure why.

Or, scratch that.

It's not entirely true that I'm not doing Passover. I'm just not doing Passover in the traditional sense, for really the first time in my life.

I am going to a seder. A non-traditional seder. And only one seder.

I can't really explain why this happened and I don't know what more to say about it.

THING 2. For now, I've decided not to do the Jewish wedding.

I can't figure out a way to make it fit with my belief system. And, quite frankly, I don't feel like I should have to compromise my belief system so much for something that directly affects me.

A wedding/marriage is all about me and my spouse. Nobody else. True, other people will get satisfaction from seeing it. But should they really be getting satisfaction from something if it makes me so unhappy? I'm going to say no. I love my parents, I love my family, but on this particular issue, they're going to have to learn to see things from my perspective.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Tradition for Tradition's Sake?

So, tradition…

These days, when someone asks me to define myself religiously – i.e., put myself into a category – I usually tell them I prefer not to. I mean, I can’t call myself Orthodox in good faith anymore.

But am I Conservative? Conservadox? Well, not really…

If pressed, I’d probably say I’m Traditional. I like it because it’s not a category that most people use on its own when talking about Judaism – although there are a few synagogues that bill themselves simply as “Traditional.”

But also, I like it, because it’s the closest thing to the truth. I’m an agnostic, I definitely don’t buy into the idea of Torah Min Hashamayim, nor do I buy into the importance and/or infallibility of rabbinic law.

That said, Jewish traditions mean something to me. I’ve never really been sure why – maybe because my parents raised me in a house where Judaism, Shabbos, and the holidays were beautiful things, maybe it’s because of some idea of cultural heritage… I’m not sure the “why” matters, though. It’s just the way things are.

But there are limits to my traditionalism. That is, where aspects of the tradition seem immoral to me, or seem to uphold values that I see as immoral, I can’t be okay with it. Rather, I’m as traditional as possible within certain limits, but I’m not an advocate of “tradition for tradition’s sake” when such a policy holds back social progress or justice. In fact, even if tradition simply contradicts a belief that I have, I can’t stand behind that tradition.

In other words: for me, tradition is a luxury, not a necessity. I stand behind specific traditions because I find them valuable. Where a specific tradition ceases to have meaning – or begins to have an offensive meaning – I’m not interested in perpetuating it.

A few weeks ago, Product and I had a bit of a back-and-forth about the blog entry I’d written on my Christian friend’s wedding. He couldn’t understand why I’d be offended or uncomfortable with Orthodox Jewish wedding ceremonies.

In an e-mail to me, he wrote, “I don’t have a problem with marriages done the Orthodox way. You see? So many things we do are rooted in historic customs, principles, and beliefs we no longer believe in, but we continue doing it anyway.”

Here, to a certain extent I agree with him. I try to make Jewish holidays special, to celebrate them in ways my ancestors celebrated them. So do I eat matzah on Pesach because I believe that God took the Jews out of slavery in Egypt and they left in such a hurry that the bread didn’t have time to rise? No. I eat it because my grandparents ate it, because I grew up eating it. I eat it for a similar reason (though on a deeper and more significant level) that I watch fireworks on July 4th. Because it means something to me. Because it feels good. Because some of the lessons from the Passover story – the value of freedom, the horror of being persecuted – have value for me. And yes, finally, because being from a line of Jews who’ve done these things for centuries means something to me. In a cultural heritage sort of way.

But that doesn’t mean that when a tradition comes into conflict with my values – as does an Orthodox wedding ceremony – that I will just accept it because it’s tradition. On the contrary! I do think the Orthodox ceremony has some nice symbols – the chupah, for example. And I would like to see a perpetuation of those traditions. But in terms of the silent women, the enforced passivity of the women involved – I am not okay with that. Sure, if the people getting married feel that those customs reflect their values, they should keep it up. But for so many of us, it’s completely contradictory to how we see the world, even to how we see marriage.

Product made a point in a blog post* he wrote on the subject that, in Orthodox Judaism, women are consecrated to their husbands but not vice versa. I know this to be true and it’s a problem. Even if it’s only a technicality, it’s a technicality that has practical implications (think agunot).

Regarding my post, again, Product questioned my critique of the reading given during the Christian wedding. I had called the passage (at least in the way it was excerpted) misogynist. He felt I needn’t be offended by such passages (an aside, the groom was as well) because when they were originally written, they reflected the values of the time, and nobody was offended.

In his email to me, he elaborated: “I recently watched the Godfather series; I think it was shot in the 50’s. In Godfather I, the Godfather calls all colored people animals and in Godfather II, Michael is rebuked for trusting a Jew. Was I appalled? No. Neither should the black folks be offended. We all know that at the time Anti-Semitic and racist statements were acceptable. I’m not worried, because I know such lines would be censored from today’s movies.”

His supposition of when the movies were made is wrong (they were made in the ‘70s), but let’s just assume for a moment that they were actually shot in the ‘50s and that the values expressed within the movies reflected those of the societies around them (I don’t think it’s quite that simple even if they had been made in the '50s, but I’m making a hypothetical case). In such a case, I think it’s true that one should be able to watch such a film without being offended (the way, for example, I can read 19th century texts about women’s “proper roles” without being offended. In fact, I’m not really offended when I read sexist remarks in the Tanach – it only serves as evidence for me that it’s a biased, human-written text).

However, watching these films is not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about choosing that specific quote to read aloud in a modern day context. That is, imagine if someone stood up at a Jewish benefit and read the anti-Semitic section of the script from Godfather II. Unless he/she was doing so as part of a speech on the history of anti-Semitism, the attendees would all be appalled, and rightly so!

Tradition and traditional texts, by extension, have their limits. When they're quoted or referred to as a way to uphold sexist/racist/anti-Semitic values in modern day society, it is not okay.

Ultimately, Product closed his email by expounding upon what he saw as the “fundamental problem with Reform Judaism.” That is, that “[r]eligion practices the word of God, whether you believe in it or not. A religion that claims to be man-made is not a religion. When you start to accommodate religion to suit contemporary beliefs, you pull the floor from underneath your feet. Instead, let religion be the original that it is, and you have three options. You can take it, leave it, or throw it away. You can practice it, leave it in synagogue and visit whenever you feel like it, or hate it and reject anything that resembles it. The point is, don’t change it or you will mess the whole thing up.”

While not a proponent of Reform Judaism, I respectfully disagree with Product’s opinion here. I don’t think you compromise the whole thing by changing pieces of it. Not that this is relevant to my life – but even the most extreme brands of Orthodox Judaism don’t claim to be fully the word of God. In fact, most of the things I find to be in conflict with my value system don’t claim to be the word of God (there are, of course, exceptions to this rule). The reason for that is because Judaism – yes, even Orthodox Judaism – is an organic, evolving thing. The rulings of rabbis, even as they try to stay as close as possible to the original texts, have always been informed by the societies around them. How else to explain Rav Gershom’s edict against polygamy? This one instance is more obvious than some others, but if you look closely, these outside influences become more and more clear.

Obviously, the happenings within Orthodoxy are less relevant to my life now that I’ve (sort of) made the decisions that I have. But really my point is that I don’t think there’s anything necessarily wrong or threatening about adapting traditions. And I do think there can be harm done by simply valuing “tradition for tradition’s sake” without any critical analysis. Perhaps more on this another time…

*Yes, Product's blog is in Yiddish, a language which I don't understand. However, he sent me a translation of the post and it's really very interesting. Perhaps he will post that translation on his blog?

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

That Time of Year Again? Ugh.

Yeah, one of the things that prevents me from letting go of Judaism entirely is its holidays. I love Jewish holidays. With one exception: Pesach.

Things I do not love about Pesach:

1. The guilt trip that goes on in my brain, whereby I can still hear all my elementary & high school teachers implying that anyone who does not follow every single stringency when it comes to Pesach will be cut off from the Jewish people/burn in Hell.

2. Pesach cleaning. It's not the good kind of cleaning. It's all panic, anxiety, and OCD scrubbing.

3. Eight days of a malnourished me. Because I'm all about carbohydrates. And when I eat mostly protein (as will happen on Pesach, lest I get a stomach ache from too much matzah/potato starch), I never really feel full.

4. Kitniyot. Seriously?!?! On Pesach, I lament my Ashkenaz background. But honestly, why do we even have to keep this? What's the deal? Pesach is already so excessive, what's with this extra (ridiculously huge) restriction?