What’s in a name?

This week’s parasha is a story of blockbuster proportions. We’re getting into the heat of the Exodus narrative. It’s a story of treachery, captivity, leadership, and the launching of Charlton Heston’s career. And of course, it all begins with a few simple personal introductions:

And God spoke unto Moses, and said unto him: I am the LORD and I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, as אל שדי but by My name יהוה I made Me not known to them.

Sh’mot 6:2-3

In Torah study at my shul, we never get beyond the first few verses, so we spent the better part of two hours dwelling on these few lines. Of course, the question came up as to why God has more than one name, and why they are used at various times. For some, the natural response is that there are multiple authors/editors of the Tanakh, and so they use different names. For me, resorting to the Documentary Hypothesis whenever there’s a perceived inconsistency in the Tanakh is a little too easy and logical. Setting aside for the moment that it is – by definition – merely a hypothesis, I believe that sometimes the desire to find logic in the Bible detracts from the more mystical elements of the text that can have great importance. Check out this article for more insight on this topic.

The fact that Moses is the only human ever to know God’s proper Name, and the fact that we can’t just go find him and ask him what it was is a deeply important part of Jewish theology. There is something mystically wondrous about God having one singular unknown name, but having a plethora of titles to be approached with. It means that no person is more entitled to speak to God than another; it means that we all can find a personal way to address God; it means that God isn’t limited by our human necessities to label everything and everyone.

The different titles we have for God is also an important part of Jewish monotheism. While each of the other gods of the ancient pantheon had their own name and their own job (meet Ra the sun god, Thor the thunder god, and Neptune the sea god), יהוה has many appellations, and many jobs, but remains singular. Other peoples needed to assign different names to each of their gods, but our God’s singularity encompasses all of these names.

So we can say that the presence of El Shaddai, El Roi, Elohim, and YHVH are the result of different people putting together different texts. Or perhaps – if we can allow our minds to surpass the need to rationalize everything in a scientifically logical manner – we might find that these names are part of the awesomeness of Jewish monotheism. One God with just one title leads to fighting in the name of God, and the possibility that other people are given limited access to God. One God with many titles ensures that all can approach God with equal access and no superiority.

May we all strive to find the Holiness in God’s name, and bring that holiness out in each other.

Shabbat Shalom!

The Moses Claus and the December Dilemma

It seems the Toronto Star just doesn’t seem to understand multiculturalism.

Ironic, this being the most multicultural city in the world. Check out this current article on the December Dilemma. It seems that for some, the easy solution when faced with a city where people of “non-White-European decent” actually make up the majority is to just combine everything culturally important together into a melting pot of madness. With all due respect to my American friends who are more familiar with the melting pot strategy, here in Toronto we’re used to a more cultural mosaic approach to life. Of course, this all implies that there’s a problem that needs solving – a notion which I take issue with.

Every year around this time, there’s a big fuss about how to deal with the intersection of religions and public life. A couple years ago, the Star published a story glorifying Chrismukkah and its so-called “benefits.” I immediately penned a response, which they printed. In response to the nonsense of this season, I present it below, as a dose of medicine for those who are are stymied by the insanity of December.

Tolerance Invovles Understanding Uniqueness

Jennifer Bain reports on the growing trend in Canada of interfaith families combining Channukah and Christmas into a hybrid mishmash. While this may be a perfectly logical notion for some, it is important to note that there are detrimental effects of doing so. Ask my professor’s daughter who was taught to believe in the “Moses Claus” as a child, and now does not know what to believe in.

Channukah is called so for a reason – it is the Hebrew word for rededication. Channukah is the time when Jews celebrate and remember the rededication of the ancient holy Temple after its horrific destruction. To alter the word to “Chrismukkhah,” or “Hanumas,” lessens the significance of the holiday. It erases the true meaning of the word, and presents a distorted version of the holiday.

While there is much that non-Jews can learn by celebrating Channukah with Jewish friends and family, and vice-versa regarding Christmas, it is of paramount importance to remember that Channukah is a Jewish holiday and Christmas is a Christian holiday. To combine them is to misrepresent the true meaning of each holiday.

To truly increase tolerance and knowledge of dual cultural heritages, interfaith families should learn about each holiday individually and uniquely, rather than attempting to assimilate them into an entirely new celebration which is no longer grounded in its true roots. This is especially true for interfaith families with children. Let them be taught about each religion’s traditions rather than a new hodgepodge. Doing so will only breed a generation of children who believe in the “Moses Claus” – who comes down the chimney to light the Channukiah and eats the Latkes left on the table.

Also worthwhile to check out is the Hat Man’s take on the season.

and now, for something completely different

As you may have noticed, things look new and fresh around here. The change is in celebration of the metre of snow piled up outside.

As much as I like the NYC image up top, it needs changing… unfortunately my lego friends were banished to the land of “not recognized by your browser.” We’ll give it some time.

Train ride home yesterday (which should’ve taken five hours) wound up taking an excruciating seven hours. The best moment of the trip happened something like this:

Conductor: (as people were getting to their seats) “Excuse me folks, please keep moving up ahead, that’s right.. keep it moving. SIR! please keep moving!”

Guy: “I can’t! There’s a steel wall in front of us. Unless you’ve got some X-MEN on the train who can move through metal, we’re out of luck”

That is all.

Thursday’s Line-up of Jewy Things you should take a look at

1. The Crazies.The Ha’aretz Self Test on whether or not you are a Mideast Fanatic

2. The Badass. The Nine Most Badass Bible Verses. What about “Be fruitful and multiply”? It’s a command to get busy!

3. The Tasty. Jones Soda’s Channukah Offerings.
These ones come in four BRAND NEW flavours: Latke, Applesauce, Gelt, and Jelly-Doughnut. (I’ve always been a fan of the Pineapple Upside Down Cake)

4. The Revolutionary.Two Words: Che Herzl. (I’ve already ordered one for myself!)

5. The Happy. Muslim helps Jews attacked on New York subway.

When a Kippah is not just a Kippah

This article popped up in my inbox today, courtesy of KOACH, the Conservative Movement’s college arm. It’s by KOACH associate at U of Florida Sherri Vishner. It’s part of a series of articles on gender in Judaism, but as I read it, I couldn’t but help have a reaction to it that had nothing to do with gender.

… while we are in fact in the ‘21st Century’, it is still not common for women to wear kippot.

Like many girls who are currently growing up in the Conservative Movement, I was given the opportunity to wear a tallit and kippah when I celebrated becoming a Bat Mitzvah. About five years ago, I made the decision to wear my kippah all the time- minus showering and sleeping of course. I made this decision because I believe I should have my head covered while praying. I didn’t want to limit my prayers to a few times a day and I didn’t want to keep taking my kippah on and off, which I had been doing for a while…

…As immediately as the first day I wore my kippah, Jews and non-Jews alike approached me asking me what I was wearing and wasn’t that something that men wore. I continue to explain that while the kippah has traditionally been worn solely by men, it need not be a ‘man’s garment’. I wear the kippah for the same reasons a man wears one- to show that God is above us and to remind them that I am a Jew. I believe that these concepts are not limited to men. I believe in God and appreciate the daily, visible reminder of my Judaism.

I know a lot of women who by other people’s standards would be considered feminists but don’t put themselves in that camp. I have a hard time putting myself there as well, especially when it comes to my wearing a kippah. I don’t wear my kippah because I want to be a man and I also don’t wear one because I think all women should- though it would be nice to have some company!

The article resonated with me in such a different manner. While I read the words, my mind was already replacing them with my own narrative. This is how it read to me:

while we are in fact in the ‘21st Century’, it is still not common for Reform Jews to wear kippot [all the time].

Like many Reform Jews who are currently growing up in the Reform Movement, I was given the opportunity to wear a tallit and kippah when I celebrated becoming a Bar Mitzvah. About five years ago, I made the decision to wear my kippah all the time- minus showering and sleeping of course. I made this decision because I believe I should have my head covered while praying. I didn’t want to limit my prayers to a few times a day and I didn’t want to keep taking my kippah on and off, which I had been doing for a while…

…As immediately as the first day I wore my kippah, Jews and non-Jews alike approached me asking me what I was wearing and wasn’t that something that Orthodox Jews wore… I wear the kippah for the same reasons an Orthodox Jew wears one- to show that God is above us and to remind them that I am a Jew. I believe that these concepts are not limited to the Orthodox. I believe in God and appreciate the daily, visible reminder of my Judaism.

I know a lot ofReform Jews who by other people’s standards would be considered “Orthodox” but don’t put themselves in that camp. I have a hard time putting myself there as well, especially when it comes to my wearing a kippah. I don’t wear my kippah because I want to be aOrthodox and I also don’t wear one because I think all Jews should- though it would be nice to have some company!

I’ve wrestled with wearing a kippah full-time in the past. After returning from my first Jewish camp experience, and then from my first trip to Israel, it felt appropriate and I donned one each morning. But then the assumptions of my orthodoxy got in the way of the connection I was trying to forge through the garment. And yet, as I wear one at all times when doing something Jewish, it still feels a little contradictory to assume that I can just walk away from parts of my Jewishness. Sure, you go to shul and pray at specific times, but it’s not like you can compartmentalize your Jewishness. The emancipation is long gone, those ideals don’t stand any longer.

Even this past Shabbat, as I had on my knit “religious zionist / modern orthodox” kippah, surrounded by others who were wearing polyester kippot (no doubt collected from many a bar mitzvah), I was asked if I wore my kippah all the time. Just the fabric and design of my head-covering was enough to elicit assumptions.

I would like to find a way to wear a kippah without having people pigeon-hole me into a category based on it. While that sounds a little like I’m being too focused on image and what other people think of me, it’s an important factor. It’s an outward display of one’s Jewry, and it needs to be considered carefully. If I’m displaying something, I don’t want to display what I’m not.

Perhaps something similar to eco-kashrut needs to arise to deal with this issue. If Reform Jews want to wear kippot all the time without automatically being assumed to be Orthodox, does something need to be done? Or is this an internal, self-defining issue?

This also all rests on the assumptions that the highly definitive nature of the Movements is something that is important and necessary. I still haven’t figured that one out yet.

Apparently neither have these people.

Or these.

Writing a new word

There are times when words are useless.
Times when you say something and then immediately realize that you meant something else.
Times when you write something down on a page, look at it, and realize that it’s completely fucked up. So you erase it and then write something new. And then realize that it’s contrived and pretentious. So you erase than and write something brand new. And then realize that nobody will understand the message that you intended to convey anyways.

So you erase that, and then start writing about the process of writing.

Then you glance at the clock and realize that you only have five minutes until you need to drag your body elsewhere.

But your mind remains on that page of paper.

And your soul remains somewhere else.

But the meaning lingers. That essence of something that needs to be conveyed, needs to be written, needs to be shared with the world.

But it’s stuck in your head, and lost in space, and unable to get out.

And you decide that there needs to be a new word to use instead of Fuck. Fuck is great at conveying anger, dismay, annoyance, stress, and all those lovely things that we try to rid our mind and body of, yet somehow feel lonely without.
But I need to find a word to convey the absolute *&^% (don’t have a word for it yet) at not being able to get what is in your mind out into the world. It’s beyond writer’s block. That only affects writers. I’m not a writer. It’s not a communication issue. I’m a pretty good communicator. People tell me that.

Any suggestions on a new word?