In a Torah Zone

Today, I chanted Torah at my synagogue. I chanted from parashat Shoftim, which happens to be my Bat Mitzvah portion. Perhaps because one of my non-Jewish friends was there, or perhaps because I wanted to prove to myself I could do it, I chanted without mistake. Another congregant put it best: I was "in a Torah zone." I think it was the best I have ever chanted, including in terms of flow, accuracy, and feeling.

There are other ways to be in a Torah Zone as well. One is recognizing that Torah is still relevant today. What better portion to use to prove this point than Shoftim? In its third verse, it commands, "Justice, justice shall you pursue." At first, this verse seems straightforward. Pursue justice. Easy, right? It seems so at first. Doing what is right (tzedek, the Hebrew word I have translated as justice can also mean righteousness) is simple most of the time. We can look at situations and see the right action to take. Taking that action is generally also easy. Usually, it benefits us to take the right action. Occasionally, it can be hard for us to take the right action, because that action goes against our immediate self-interest, but these times are few and far between.

However, doing justice and pursuing justice are two different ideas. It is easy to do right in a given situation when we think about it. But to pursue justice, justice must be on our minds all the time. We can't put it on the back burner. Some commentaries suggest that the repetition of the word "tzedek" in the verse states that both the means and the ends to the pursuit of justice must be just. In other words, an action is not just if the reason for it just but it turns out bringing harm to the world. And if the reasons for an action are just, but the outcome of it is not, then justice has not been increased.

We are told in Genesis that humans are created in the image and likeness of God. Thus, one concept of justice is to bestow the respect that this special status comes with onto each person we meet. To treat others as in God's image brings us closer to fulfilling that ideal as well. Disregarding fellow human beings is to disregard God, and therefore to disregard the values that we associate with God. (I realize the preceding may sound weird coming from an atheist, but the concept of בצלם אלהים is one of the foundations of my own Jewish practice, and although I do not recognize God as such currently, I recognize the dignity that is associated with God, and try to bring that into my relations with others.)

Another ideal we are commanded to pursue is that of שלום, peace or wholeness. I don't think the two are so different. By pursuing justice, we are in fact adding to the שלום in our world. Justice brings peace, just as peace inspires justice.

Sharp Dresser

Maybe my life would have been different. If my grandmother hadn't had lung cancer, maybe she'd still be alive. She died of it before I turned five, my third granparent to do so.

She was always fashionable, with the latest clothing from Saks and other stores. At some point some of her clothes fit me, and if I lose some weight, maybe they will again. I especially like the sweaters she knit herself. Maybe if she lived longer, she would have taught me how to dress, either by example or by gifts.

However, alas, she did not.

Instead, I learned sharp dressing from my grandfather, well, except for that awful beret. Suits, ties, nice shirts, slacks, sportscoats - suave. I want that presence when I dress. It's not about being butch, or a butch, because I'm not. It's not about being a man, because I'm not. Rather it's about expressing myself through my clothes. To quote my new friend Brian, "Putting on a tie is a spiritual experience."

My everyday attire consists of sandals (Tevas, specifically), jeans or cargo pants, t-shirt, maybe sweat-shirt or coat, and a backwards baseball cap.

When I dress in "men's" shirt and tie, "men's" pants, wide belt, and "men's" shoes, I feel myself: confident, caring, sharp. On Shabbat, I am in appropriate attire to marry the Queen. On other occasions, my demeanor is reflected in my clothing. It says, "I am fully present."

Not that wearing women's clothing cannot be equally empowering; it's just not for me. When I wear it, I feel nervous about looking too everything. As a result, I am not myself. So don't ask me to dress up girly, unless you want me to be in drag.

#23 - Twice Blessed: On Being Lesbian or Gay and Jewish

This collection of essays, edited by Christine Balka and Andy Rose, is the second collection of queer Jewish writings I have read. It was as enlightening as the first, and I identified with much of what was written. The essays are of varying quality, but overall a good read if you have an interest. Not to harp on this, but queer Jews exist, and we write about our experiences - the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Michael Steinhardt and I have something in common

He's a self-described atheist.

It might surprise you to learn that I am a self-described atheist as well. However, events in my life have led me to struggle so much with God's eternity, which I believe God must have to truly be God. There are moments in my life when I believe in God so strongly that my belief is undeniable, but those are few and far between. However, I am still struggling with God, like Yisrael, to connect those moments. I expect to work on this for a while, quite seriously, in fact. Becoming a rabbi is my ambition, and I would like to believe in God before I go to rabbinical school.

Happy News

So, I'm cultivating a relationship with an old high-school friend whom I hadn't spoken to in over a year. We reconnected at a dinner and have been practically inseparable ever since. We don't want to rush into a relationship however, so we're trying our best to take things slow and develop a friendship first. She's amazing, just saying.

#22 - Sages and Dreamers

Sages and Dreamers is a collection of portraits of Biblical, Talmudic, and Hasidic figures. Each portrait, crafted skillfully by Elie Wiesel, is informative and entertaining at the same time. I liked the Talmudic portraits especially. This book made me think.

#21 - Night of Sorrows

This novel is the second book I've read by an author I'm glad to call my friend. Frances Sherwood writes fluid prose about the invasion of the Aztecs by Cortes, featuring his translator Malintzin. The plot kept me on my toes and I was able to learn some Spanish out of the deal as well. Romance, war, interesting people: this book has it all. An excellent read for mature audiences.

Queering Aggada

So, back to the philosophical posts, I suppose.

I have been reading Twice Blessed: On Being Lesbian or Gay and Jewish, and I find that many of the essays discuss the "queering" of sacred texts that I am well familiar with. These include reading homosexuality into the relationships of David and Jonathan, as well as Ruth and Naomi. One that surprised me, however, is the queering of the legend of Akiba and his wife Rachel. Someone, I'm blanking now, writes that we can read into the text that their marriage was a cover-up because they were not straight. This is why Akiba was able to leave Rachel for so long.
(He left for 12 years at the house of study, then left for 12 more, according to legend).

Also, on the same topic, (this is mine now) could Ben Azzai and Ben Zoma have been partners of sorts? After all, neither was married.