Happy Hanukkah!

I had enough holiday free to take the afternoons off from work during Hanukkah, (barring Monday, which I had to rearrange for reasons I won't trouble you with) so I've been mostly enjoying a nice rest  and feeling like a part-timer. I always feel odd this time of year, when we're about a quarter of the way through the Jewish year and then, suddenly, there's the Gregorian New Year to deal with. My family and I have never been big on New Year (unlike myself until recently, and my father who I recently got back in touch with, my mother, step-father and half-sister have never been big drinkers generally), but obviously, the world around us counts the years differently, and for many of those who do indulge in alcohol, New Year can be an excuse for a big bash. Indeed, even in Israel, in order to keep up with the rest of the world, the Gregorian calendar is used in daily life, with the Hebrew calendar being restricted to fixing the times and dates for prayer, festivals and yahrzeits (the ceremony with which a person marks, each year, the anniversary of the death of a relative), and events such as Gregorian New Year are increasingly popular. I recently blogged about the yahrtzeit of Yitzhak Rabin, and many Israelis now commemorate his death not on the official date, fixed according to the Hebrew calendar, but on November 4, the date of his death on the Gregorian calendar.

And then, of course, there is the so-called December dilemma, also known as Christmas. I find it ironic and sad that Jews feel so much pressure, in western countries, to celebrate Christmas even when, unlike in my case, there is no family connection to deal with. I can well understand the custom  of giving children presents at Chanukah (indeed the giving of Chanukah gelt, or money, was a Jewish tradition long before we started communing with our Christian compatriots) - though I'd question whether we should allow it to be affected as much by consumerism as Christmas is - but is it really necessary for Jewish parents to allow their children to attend carol services or sit on Santa's knee? Again, it is ironic that Chanukah, which is supposed to be a celebration of a Jewish victory against outside forces who wanted us to assimilate (though the rabbis would have you believe it's all about a miracle) occurs either, as this year, before Christmas, or sometimes coinciding with Christmas (Day) itself.

And then, of course, as I have already alluded to, there is the problem of what to do if part of your family (most commonly the parents of a convert, or the in-laws of someone who married a convert) celebrate Christmas not because they are assimilationist, but because they are at least nominally Christian. I have also heard that immigrants of non-Jewish and non-Christian background, and their descendants, are increasingly celebrating a secular Christmas, though suspect that at least for some, even celebrating it religiously does not pose the same dilemma as it does for Jews. In my case, my parents, neither of whom are Jewish, are divorced and live far apart, so I am forced to spend one or other of Christmas and New Year with first one, then the other. This year I will be spending Christmas Day and hopefully, the weekend leading up to it with my mother and step-father, and new Year with my father. Next year, it will probably be the reverse, though I hope at some point to spend 25 and 26 December at Limmud, the annual Jewish educational conference. 

One thing's for sure though, December will never be boring! Whatever festival you're celebrating this month, have a happy festive season!

Eight days before the Eight Days [of Hanukkah]

I had meant to post during the latest round of violence in Israel/Palestine, but didn't get the chance. (It is a measure of the massive media bias against Israel that I almost wrote "assault on Gaza" in that last sentence). The total death toll, thanks to the Iron Dome defence system, was 5 Israelis and (according to Al Jazeera) 162 Gazans. How Hamas can continue to countenance such a huge death toll on the part of Palestinians (not to mention claiming victory), only they can answer. But since 9pm local time (7pm GMT), there has been a truce between Israel and Hamas. It's important to emphasize that the strikes by the Israeli Defence Force (Tzahal - Tzvi HaHagana LeYisrael) only took place in response to months of rocket attacks on Israel by Hamas - a point conveniently forgotten by the Hamas spokesman who announced the victory, er ceasefire. This conflict saw the following worrying developments:

• The new Egyptian President, Mohamed Morsi, who was recently caught on camera praying to Allah to "deal with the Jews", immediately visited Gaza to lend moral support to Hamas.
• It took UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon *6* days to saunter over to the Middle East to suggest that, you know, the parties might want to stop fighting. It took the Pope one more day.
• Egypt threatened to abrogate the peace treaty with Israel. This would leave Israel at peace with only one of 21 Arab states (usually defined as the members of the Arab League, and not including Palestine, which has representation at the League but is not yet a state), namely Jordan.
• The Prime Minister of Turkey, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, an Islamist in a traditionally moderate Muslim state and ally of Israel, accused Israel of "terrorism".

We don't yet know how the future of Israel will pan out given the new, even more hostile environment Israel now finds itself in. We can only hope that it doesn't get any worse.

Taking the plunge

I finally did it. My day job has a relaxed dress code, and all but two of the male managers follow it, with those who don't wearing suits except on "dress-down Friday". (Lots of the women seem to dress smartly anyway.) This year, on Rosh Hashana, for the first time in about two years I wore a suit to shul; this catapulted me into also wearing them at work. I was apprehensive about wearing them there at first, but so far any comments I have gotten have been positive (I haven't yet inspired anyone else to do so, but then that's not the idea). I'm also finding it fits in with my increasing level of observance (I seem to have independently invented the term "Reformodox"). I now wear a suit to work every day of the week, and a better one on Shabbos, though as I still have plenty of casual clothing in good condition, some of which is only recently bought, I tend to wear casual on Sundays and am thinking of adopting dress-down Fridays.

Ironically - and yes I'm using the word in the Alanis Morissette sense - I will be wearing a suit this Sunday as I'm working (and more importantly, wish to have somewhere - i.e. a hole in my blazer lapel stitched in for the purpose, at least, it seems, in suits sold in Britain - to wear a poppy for Remembrance Day), and so Friday will be the first day I wear casual clothes this week. Anyway, semi-independently of that I've also started wearing the tallit katan, an undershirt worn by observant, usually Orthodox, Jews, with the tzitziyot tucked in to avoid looking ridiculous in public. This is a Sephardi, or Southern European Jewish, custom, many of which, incidentally, (such as eating rice on Passover), I have adopted, as they seem to lessen the "burden" of observing traditional Judaism in comparison with Ashkenazi customs (those of Central and Eastern European Jews and their descendants, in the UK, US, Israel and elsewhere). After all, our shul has already adopted the Sephardi/Israeli mode of pronouncing Hebrew, with all but a few members (who are quite welcome to do things their way) doing likewise.

However, the real point of this post is that, again by coincidence, after seeing them in a department store and seeing a couple of people wearing them, I've been wanting to buy a fedora for a while. It took quite a few trips to different clothes shops to get one - including trying out a one-size (and therefore, for a 5'6" midget like me, oversized) one from Primark and being offered one with a white bow on it which reminded me for all the world of 1920's Chicago gangsters (which I've really only seen, appropriately perhaps, in that episode of Star Trek).

I'm a little bit worried that this all makes me look, to an outsider, like a Hasidic Jew, (or, as I joked with my friend Allie today, Amish) and there is certainly a rule in Orthodoxy that one shouldn't mislead other Jews by, for example, walking into a non-kosher restaurant wearing a kippah, as that might give Jewish passers-by the impression that the establishment is kosher. To that I counter that I'm not trying to deceive anyone, and that for example if I were to dress in casual clothes and lose the kippah, I would equally well be giving the impression that I'm not Jewish - and furthermore, that the fact that I "look Jewish" anyway is something I can't really change - nor, frankly, would I want to. I'm frankly much more worried by attitudes like this one. There are Jews who are (natural) blond(e)s - as William Shatner was in his youth - and those who dye their hair - but what Jew in his or her right mind would do it to look "Aryan"? Never mind the fact that the term "Aryan" properly describes the Indo-Iranian (Aryan -> Iran) peoples, who (at least in the main), are definitely not flaxen-haired.

To round off this (rather rambling) post, I probably will keep the look. Jews (and Chicago gangsters) certainly aren't the only people who wear fedoras these days. One regular at our shul wears one, somehow without managing to look Hasidic. I really must study how he does it - maybe it's the lack of beard? Where does that leave the guy who looks Jewish, has a beard but isn't Orthodox? Although I tend to wear the traditional white or blue shirt on the Sabbath, I have all manner of colourful shirts and ties - including red, which is apparently a definite no-no in the Orthodox community - so that should hopefully ward off any unsuspecting Haredim who see me doing anything the Orthodox shouldn't do. To anyone who asks, I will be quite honest and clear - I'm not Orthodox. Ultimately, though, there's no reason to suspect that seeing me going into a non-kosher restaurant (to use my earlier example) would lead the Orthodox to go into that one, any more than seeing them would lead me to being (the Orthodox definition of) shomer Shabbos. What do you think about it?

If Romney wins tomorrow...

...will the last person to leave the Galaxy please turn out the lights?

A note on tefillin

"Phylacteries" is a singularly unhelpful translation of the word tefillin. That is all.

Synchronicity

I've mentioned before that at work, a couple of us use a room set aside for fifteen minutes every day to pray. Usually, I'm the first to enter and the last to leave - Mincha (the Jewish afternoon prayer service) - just takes that long, including donning my tallit, or prayer shawl, worn, in the Sephardic or southern European tradition at morning and afternoon prayers (as opposed to the Ashkenazi or Central European tradition, where it is worn only during the morning (Shacharit) prayers). But today, I arrived just as my Muslim friend was taking off his shoes, and took off my tallis just as he was finishing up. Coincidence? No doubt. But we did share a chuckle over it.

Yitzhak Rabin, 1922-1995

Shavua tov. Today, 12th of Heshvan according to the Hebrew calendar, marks the memorial day (yahrtzeit) of Yitzhak Rabin, the Israeli Prime Minister who, for many, represented Israel's "best [hopefully not last] chance for peace". (According to the Jewish calendar, each day begins at sunset, so the 12th of Heshvan, which began at sunset today, will continue until sunset tomorrow (Sunday)). It is a sad fact that the extremist who killed him, Yigal Amir, saw fit, ironically, to attempt to assassinate him at Yad Vashem, the Israeli National Holocaust Memorial. (His third, final, and ultimately successful attempt was at a rally attended by Rabin in Kings of Israel Square in Tel Aviv, now renamed Yitzhak Rabin Square in his honour). The Knesset, or Israeli Parliament, has established the 12th of Heshvan as his official memorial day in Israel, although many apparently also observe the 4th of November, the date of his assassination according to the Gregorian calendar, as a day of remembrance. It is probably a mark of my attachment to Judaism that I remember hearing of this assassination long before I even consciously decided to convert, and although I pray that he is wrong I can't help fearing that, unlike then, Jimmy Carter's assertion that the opportunity for a two-state solution is now fast disappearing may unfortunately be right, the continued building of settlements, especially in the traditionally Arab-majority East Jerusalem, being one of the reasons for this sad state of affairs.

Although admittedly I have never been to Israel, a fact I hope may be rectified as soon as possible, I consider myself a passionate Zionist and the fact that I am dead set against settlements - the building of Jewish-majority villages outside the 1967 borders of the State of Israel - may seem to contradict that assertion. But the Jewish State was established to provide a home for Jews in which they could feel safe (not to mention Jewish), the way an American, a Frenchman or an Englishman can (or should) feel safe in their home countries. Whether or not one agrees with the establishment of the State, one must at least acknowledge that the State of Israel is a "fact on the ground", and I think that that entails trying to find a solution that will suit both parties (or, in the cynical interpretation, which suits neither). It seems to me that the idea that the Jews and Arabs could exist, side-by-side, peacefully in the same state is more of a pipe-dream than even the two-state solution ever was. This of course would mean that Israel would need to recognise both the right of the Palestinians to exist as a nation-state, and their right to establish that state, and the Palestinians would have to do likewise for Israel. But whilst Israel continues not only to occupy Palestine, but to build on land in the Occupied Territories, it is difficult to see how this can happen. One must also acknowledge that, unlike the original 1947 UN partition plan, the '67 borders do not divide Israel/Palestine equally into four quarters, each quarter occupied by either a Jewish or an Arab majority. The latter borders, which are now a starting point for any negotiations, it seems, are the borders of Israel after it won the War of Independence - which, like perhaps all wars, resulted in a gain of territory for the winning side and a loss to the losers - but before it occupied the West Bank and Gaza. I have long had misgivings about the practicality of a state divided in two by another, (it didn't work in Pakistan), and, like apparently the Emir of Qatar, believe that ultimately, Gaza and the West Bank will become two different states. (A three-state solution, I guess).

It must also be acknowledged that some sectors, at least, of the Israeli public refer to the "West Bank [of the River Jordan]", the larger of the two, disconnected areas of the Occupied Territories (leaving aside the Golan Heights, which were originally Syrian territory) as Judaea and Samaria, the origins, of course of the terms "Jew" and "Samaritan" - and thereby indicate their historic significance for the Jewish people. However, I think ultimately we will, if we ever reach a two-/three-state solution, have to acknowledge that "Judaea and Samaria" must remain a Palestinian territory - and whilst we are perhaps the only people to have survived the wholesale displacement of our population into exile, we are certainly not the only people to have to come to terms with the loss of a defining portion of our territory. One hopes also that the legacy of Rabin will not be lost, and Israelis will see the grievous error in believing, as apparently one third of them do, that Israeli Arabs (those who live in territory internationally recognised as Israeli, therefore not in the Occupied Territories) should be denied citizenship or the right to vote. To be sure, like all countries, Israel has many, many more problems, but despite the fact that it ranks at 17, a staggering 11 places ahead of the United Kingdom, in the United Nations' Human Development Index, it has one big problem that of course the UK does not have - although there are independence movements in various parts of the UK, almost no-one questions the basic right of the English, Welsh, Scots and Irish to exist nor seeks to eliminate them by violent means. Let's hope that Israel and Palestine can eventually come to an agreement - the sooner the better. Shalom/Salaam, peace out.

Delusion, Schmelusion: Part deux

When rereading my last post, it occurred to me to write something else about our workplace. I work in a company with employees from several different countries and cultures. Every weekday, at 2pm, one small conference room is set aside for fifteen minutes so that those who wish to can pray. Currently, myself and two others use that room; I must admit that I've never asked one of these guys what religion he is, but I know for a fact that the other is a Muslim. With so much religious conflict in the world today, not to mention the terrible history of religious conflict, it's nice to know there are havens where people of different faiths can coexist peacefully.

Delusion, Schmelusion

Shavua tov.

I was disappointed to find, after reading (or trying to read) The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, that someone had already written The Dawkins Delusion. Disappointed, of course, because I wanted to be the one to come up with it! The God Delusion is, from the start, so full of anti-religious vitriol that it is hard to read - and, I understand, it doesn't get any better along the way. I bought a copy but am thinking of giving it away to the small library we have at work - but I'm in two minds about this, considering that anyone who can sit through the vitriol might think, after reading it, that the religious, of which I count more than just myself in our workplace, are a bunch of dangerous zealots. However, as you will have seen if you watched the videos I posted last time, the Chief Rabbi, in his program on the conflict (or as he sees it, lack of conflict) between science and religion, managed to get Dawkins to admit both that science is open to abuse and misuse, and also that not everyone who is religious misuses his or her religion for violent ends. The problem, of course, is that the only time most non-religious people ever hear about religion (beyond the occasional funeral, wedding, bar mitzvah or christening, or their equivalents in other religions) is when some religious nutcase bombs a mosque or a synagogue, or blows him- or herself up, or shoots someone. That is of course deplorable, and one doesn't often hear of atheists or the non-religious blowing religious people up, but of course not only do heinous crimes exist which have nothing to do with religion or the religious, but also, millions of people go to synagogues, churches, mosques, gurdwaras and the like not to plan or encourage violence but to worship the Divine, under various names and guises and whether one or many. Although traditionally, Judaism emphasized rationality, learning and study at the expense of emotionalism and mysticism in religion - in contrast to Christianity, where for example the ceremonies referred to as "sacraments" in the Catholic Church are still referred to as "mysteries" by the Eastern Orthodox - when faced with the rise of Reform Judaism and, later, Modern Orthodoxy, the Mitnagdim or opponents (of mysticism), those Jews which lived in more or less closed Jewish communities called shtetls, later made their peace with the mystical strain of "ultra-Orthodox" Judaism known as Hasidism and the two groups are now collectively known as Haredi, or the pious ones. I see science and religion, scientists and the religious, as two ends of the same continuum, not two opposite extremes of which it could be said that "never the twain shall meet". I myself was raised in a rationalist, non-religious household and came to religion in general, and Judaism in particular, relatively late in life, in my late twenties. Given that background, it is perhaps not surprising that the religion that caught my attention was Judaism, with its rationalism and academic rigour, and yet I would be the first to admit not only that some (unfortunately not all) of my Jewish religious experiences have been deeply mystical or spiritual, but also that I find myself drawn, more and more, to studying the spiritual side of the religion from a non-Orthodox background. I hope you will enjoy accompanying me as I take my first steps.

Shalom, salaam, peace out.

5773 in earnest, or: Science and religion

Well, although I'm posting a little late, that's the Jewish festival season - or one of them - over for another year, and we are well into 5773. The next Jewish festival is Hanukkah, which starts this year in early December, or as the old joke goes, on the twenty-fifth of Kislev - same as every year! In the meantime I wanted to share with you two videos by the Orthodox Chief Rabbi of the Commonwealth Jonathan Sacks, made for Rosh Hashana. The first is a dialogue between Lord Sacks and three eminent, non-religious scientists, including Richard Dawkins, controversial author of "The God Delusion". The second is the Chief Rabbi's annual address for Selichot, the penitential service before Rosh Hashana. I will post more about them in a couple of days.

Science versus religion

The Best of Men

Shavua tov!

Off the derech

You may have heard the phrase "off the derech". It's used to describe someone who, though formally Orthodox, has left strict Orthodox observance - "derech" being Hebrew for "way" or "path". Now, as I mentioned last post, I'm not, nor have I ever been Orthodox - as anyone who sees that I am posting on the 8th day of Sukkot can attest! - but, philosophically speaking, can someone who has never been "on the derech" be described as being "off" the derech?

Baruch haba!

Shavua tov and welcome (baruch haba) to my blog. This is a place to share some thoughts (some serious, often not so serious. You thought "God hates pigs" was serious?!) on being Jewish and "religious" in the 21st century. To start off with, why the quotes around "religious"? Firstly, because I dislike the term - as you will know if you have more than a passing acquaintance with Judaism, and maybe even if you don't, Judaism emphasizes action (mitzvot - commandments, or good deeds) over "purity of faith"; doing these actions is called "observing the mitzvot" and so I prefer the term "observant". Secondly, because I should mention that as I converted with the Reform Beit Din and take public transport to synagogue on the Sabbath, Orthodox Jews would consider me neither observant nor Jewish. To those of you who are still here - Orthodox or not, Jewish or not: Enjoy the ride!