Halloween

So, I've told a few people that I'm not very into Halloween.  I don't do much to celebrate the holiday and I try to let it pass by with as little involvement as possible.  I don't live in an area where kids go trick-or-treating, and  a lot of the traditions seem silly to this old-man-in-training.

But it wasn't always that way.   When I was a kid, Halloween was the coolest.  I trick-or-treated and two of my neighbors established an outdoor haunted house every year.  And when I was old enough I worked at the haunted house.  I got braces on Halloween and I could eat without difficulty until trick-or-treating time, and I was devastated.  But that didn't shake my appreciation for Halloween.

When I was in high school, there was a workplace shooting near my town, at the office of one of my neighbors who ran the haunted house, and he was killed.  After that, it was too hard for the neighborhood to host the haunted house.  And Halloween became a sad day for me.  And it's still sad.  The joy I used to associate with community on Halloween was transformed to mourning.  So, forgive me if I'm not full of holiday spirit.

Even When It's Not News

Zachary Quinto made headlines last week when he came out casually during the course of an interview.  I have long been wondering why celebrities have coming out press conferences still.  Quinto, like most people his age, neither feels the need to talk about his sexuality when it is not relevant, nor feels the need to treat his identity as abnormal.  But the media felt like Quinto had duped them into believing he was straight and he pulled a fast one on America.  Quinto talked about his experience as a gay man.  When will the media learn not to be more heteronormative than the rest of the country?

Sukkot

Sukkot and Simchat Torah are now over, at least for me.  The holidays are not widely observed, at least not in more than a token fashion, by Reform Jews in America.  Somehow the time of Sukkot, the Season of Our Joy, makes me feel at home in ways I haven't yet been able to describe.

It's odd: Sukkot is a time where Jews set up a transitory space in which to live.  And it is in this temporary shelter that I find not only the Jewish community but myself alive with purpose.  I don't know whether it is the commandment to be happy or the sense of community that the holiday cultivates, but something makes me appreciate life in a new way during Sukkot, and it's not because of an increased appreciation of inside space.

National Coming Out Day

This year, I hadn't even absorbed that the day was happening until it was almost over.  I have so blocked National Coming Out Day from my life and my consciousness that it wasn't until I read the onslaught of Facebook status updates of my friends coming out again.  These cursory reiterations of queerness and other identities are the confident statements of those who hare secure in their understandings of those aspects of themselves.

The most "celebration" I have ever done for National Coming Out Day has been attending the Matthew Shepard Memorial March put together by Chicago's Gay Liberation Network that used to be a much better organization called Chicago Anti-Bashing Network.  There is enough pressure within the queer community to come out without dictating a magic day to be ready.  And there is enough pressure outside and within the queer community to stay in the closet.

As one of my friends from NUJLS would say, coming out is a continual process.  Once you start, you're never done.  There is always someone new to come out to, and identity is complex and changes over time, so there's also always something new or some more nuanced way to come out.

I started thinking about coming out after my love died, and I don't think I told anyone until a year and a half later.  And it wasn't until after my first year of college that I came out to my supportive parents.  If National Coming Out Day had the prominence that it does now, I would have been pressured to come out before I was ready, and I think many people who have started the process of coming out are pressured into declaring their insecure identities to the world before they are ready.

So, if you're reading this and you're considering coming out, know that you are not alone.  You can talk to me or someone else who will maintain your confidentiality while you think your identity through.  Know that even in the closet, you have the support of an amazing network of people who care about you and you are already accepted by the LGBTQ community, or at least the people in it who will matter to you.  We are here for you whatever you decide and whenever you decide.

Cher!

So Chaz Bono is on Dancing with the Stars.  It's not a show I watch.  Much buzz has surround Cher and whether she is a good mother of her trans son.  Activists and pundits think that Cher using incorrect pronouns or referring to Chaz as a lesbian indicate that she is a transphobic hater of her own child.  This is an absurd analysis.  Cher puts a public face on all the supportive parents of transfolk that stick up for their children despite being largely uniformed themselves.  So when Cher messes up a pronoun, I try to have the same compassion with her I extend to my own parents when they mess up a pronoun because I know that they spend the rest of the day at least feeling awful that they screwed up.  And I think: such a loving parent who is not afraid of saying something supportive because the pronoun might come out wrong due to years of habit.  So Cher: thank you for continuing to be a strong ally for the queer community.  And everyone else: lay off and note that Cher is a loving and supportive parent.

Republicans and "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"

"Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is a failed Democratic policy.  Enacted during the Clinton Administration, its purpose was to allow lesbians and gay men to serve in the military.  At all.  In addition to fears of homophobia from higher-ups in the military, it was thought in 1993 that divulging the sexual orientation of a queer service member would leave that service member vulnerable to torture.  There is no evidence that the second is true.  The most prominent group pushing for the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" was a Republican group, the Log Cabin Republicans, who were arguing in the courts that the policy was unconstitutional.  The Obama administration pushed for a legislative repeal to avoid embarrassment in the courts.  And they got a legislative repeal.

And now the Republican candidates are all pushing each other out of the way to be the first, loudest, and best proclaimers that if elected president they would reinstate the policy.  This has recently been magnified by the audience at a debate booing a gay soldier serving in Iraq asking a question while all the candidates stood idly by.  Rick Santorum, to whom the question was addressed, did not even thank the soldier for his service until a political pressure steam roller forced him to two days later.

Either the candidates all lack a basic understanding of the separation of powers or they want to abuse executive powers and/or the bully pulpit to enact unconstitutional policies.  Unconstitutional policies military won't last even under Republican authority.  Just look at segregation.  And if Republicans choose to be public faces of homophobia over public faces of supporting soldiers, they're going to lose the support of their base.

Home for the Holidays

I'm living in Chicago which is a short train ride away from where my parents live.  It's too close to try to stay in my adopted home for the holidays when my parents extend an invitation to their home.  While my broader synagogue family in South Bend is warm and loving and it's good to see people, going home, especially for a major holiday has its disadvantages.  It's not an appropriate time to come out to people, in large part, though a member of the synagogue once came out publicly on Yom Kippur afternoon.  I have an established rule that if I don't ask people to change which name or pronouns they use for me, then I don't take offense if they use the "wrong" ones.  Of course, it's still stressful and somewhat foreign by now to spend a lot of time being addressed by a name I haven't used in years over and over.

University of Chicago Move-In Day, or I'm Nerdier than these Noobs

So, today, upper-classmen move back into University of Chicago housing, which means two things for me.  First, the neighborhood is about to get a lot more crowded.  Second, I get to do the traditional alumnus activity of claiming that the University of Chicago is on the slipperly slope to the mainstream, and this year's students are less nerdy than my cohort.  At this rate, we'll be just another Harvard in 5 years.

So, this year, the University of Chicago tied for 5th place in the US News and World Report ranking of best colleges.  Through artificially increased selectivity through the adoption of the common application, we boosted our rankings.  We have also increased the percent of alumni donors, a much needed step towards building a University community.  But, through our efforts, despite my want to call the younger nerds not nerdy because they spend even more time on Facebook than I do, they aren't really less nerdy, just nerdy in different ways.  Nerdom, like most cultures, is continually evolving.

The University spends a lot of effort trying to increase its ranking, but the whole ranking system is skewed.  CalTech and MIT also got 5th this year, but for very few people would find that CalTech, MIT, or the UofC would give them the 5th best educational experience of any University in the US.    Harvard, which almost always ranks number 1 on these things, was my least favorite of all the schools I visited.  Instead of students competing to go to "the best" college and colleges competing for "the best" students, the process should be tailored to the particular advantages and interests of schools and students.  Why can't the University of Chicago reject the stupid game play and acknowledge openly that it creates the best atmosphere for a particular kind of nerd?  Why can't it just cater to that type of nerd?

In the 1980s, my mother gave a talk at the University of Chicago.  Her talk in mathematics was supposed to be in Eckhart, but one of the frats was blasting music and they had to move the talk to Ryerson.  What music? The theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  If that doesn't seem humorous or homey to you, the University of Chicago is a wrong college choice, no matter how highly ranked.  On the other hand, if the fact that the only time campus gets crazy is for a very nerdy scavenger hunt appeals, Chicago is a better place to go than anywhere else.  If you are choosing a college, keep in mind that rankings represent the choice for some sort of "typical" student, and that they tend to discriminate against public schools.  The best public school in the country, which is on par with any Ivy League is the University of California - Berkeley.  Its ranking? 21.   Make a ranking of your top choices based on your own criteria, because you are anything but typical.

Three cases, three responses

I want to talk about cases of three different prisoners.  Sorry, in the time since I first conceived of this post, the opening has to be amended.  I want to talk about two prisoners and one man who was executed.  The three people are Jonathan Pollard, Alan Gross, and Troy Davis, may he rest in peace.

First, I'll review of the cases.  Troy Davis was executed at 11:08 local time in Georgia last night.  Troy Davis was accused and convicted of killing Mark MacPhail, a police officer from Savannah, on the basis of eyewitness testimony from 9 people.  No physical evidence was produced at the time of his trial or since.  No DNA evidence has been produced to support his conviction.  Since his trial in 1991, seven of the nine witnesses have recanted their testimony, several citing police pressure to testify originally.  Davis's lawyers pursued his case to higher courts asking for stays and a chance to prove his innocence.  Many pushed for him to be granted clemency due to the doubt surrounding his guilt.  But, the judicial branch of the government sentenced him to death and the US government murdered him.

Alan Gross has been convicted of subversion in Cuba for smuggling phone equipment to Jewish groups in the country.  Cuba has sentenced him to fifteen years in prison.  The United States has requested release and sent dignitaries to negotiate it.  Gross has lost approximately 100 lbs in prison in Cuba in the last year and a half.  There is currently a push to release him from prison on humanitarian grounds.  Only the severity of the punishment is at issue in this case, not Gross's guilt according to Cuban law.

Jonathan Pollard was convicted of espionage for an allied country without intent to harm the United States.  He passed intelligence information to Israel while serving as a US intelligence officer.  He pled guilty to the crime and is serving (contrary to his plea agreement) a life sentence without parole for his crime.  It is the longest sentence anyone has served for espionage for a US ally.  His health been failing, and none of his requests for parole have been granted despite his long sentence, his good behavior as an inmate, and assurances that he can never pass such secrets again.

I do not think any of these sentences are deserved for the crimes in question, but I must say it is rather hypocritical for the US to call other justice systems oppressive and unjust given its current state.

Kevin McCarthy: Community Organizer?

So a while ago, I was listening to Fresh Air at work.  This was at my previous job (my current one doesn't allow the radio).  The program featured the author of a book about the current House of Representatives, with a particular focus on the 87 Republican freshmen.  The author was particularly focused on analyzing the relationship of the House GOP establishment and the new Republican contingent.  He thought that Kevin McCarthy, the majority whip, was the key player in the conversations between the GOP political insiders and their Tea Party colleagues.  As I listened to how Kevin McCarthy made the House freshmen feel heard even though their demands are rarely met, it seemed as though he was employing the same techniques as many community organizers.  Organizing: it's not just for Democrats any more.

Jew Cool, Politics, and Eric Cantor

I don't know when it started to be cool to be Jewish.  But somehow, the stereotype of the Jewish comedian has morphed from the nebbish Woody Allen to the cool Jon Stewart and Sarah Silverman.  Jews have gone mainstream.  This is progress.  No longer sidelined as much, maligned by the mainstream, or ridiculed, Jews have the opportunity in modern America to be cool. (Just ask Drake if you don't believe me.)

Growing up as this transition was happening, I was taught to appreciate the successes of fellow members of the tribe.  Most notably, this appreciation is codified in Adam Sandler's Chanukah Song, but it extends to other industries as well.  When a Jew gets a promotion or gets elected, I am supposed to be proud, simply because I am also a Jew.

However, this acceptance of Jews into the mainstream allows Jews to feel a part of that mainstream.  Which means?  Jewish Republicans.  And I am supposed to be proud that a Jew is House Majority Leader.  I am supposed to say "look at our progress" when a Jew is on the frontline of the fight to deny Americans basic rights?  I'm sorry, but I can't feel proud of that.  It's a shonde.

Amy Winehouse

Sorry this post is so late.  I don't often post about random popular culture, but here goes.  In the hours following the death of musician Amy Winehouse, the media frenzy went forward on two fronts.  The first question they examined was whether the singer had overdosed, and the second question they examined was  whether the singer's family's desire to have a Jewish funeral for their daughter was appropriate.

Amy Winehouse is the Jewish girl that gave Jewish girls the ability to not be so nice.  She was always open about her background and never apologetic that her life was not beholden to halachah.  Adherence to Jewish law is not the only factor that makes a Jew, and Winehouse's parents and family should have been free to bury her in a fashion they saw fit (assuming she had no documentation indicating otherwise) without question.  In Judaism, caring for the dead is considered the highest mitzvah because the deceased cannot bury themselves.  And whether the person in question followed the commandments is not at issue.  The burial does not become more or less kosher based on the actions of the deceased.

Not all Jews are observant, and not all who are not Orthodox lack all observance.  So someone who was not a nice Jewish girl can be buried as soon as possible according to Jewish custom without a contradiction.

September 11th

September 11th is my generation's national unifier. My parents' generation remembers where they were when Kennedy was shot, my grandparents' America was defined by World War II, and their parents' by the Great Depression and World War I. My generation won't look back at the Great Recession, or even the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan, as the formative experience in the formation of our America. We will forever be changed by the world stopping on one day ten years ago. When we're old, we'll tell the stories of where we were on that day, what we were doing when we heard the news or saw the Twin Towers collapse. And we'll talk about how that day changed the course of America forever. We may then mention, if we remember, what we were doing in May 2011 when Osama bin Laden was killed, and most of us will have forgotten that the Navy Seal team that killed him suffered casualties in Afghanistan shortly after.

But somehow, the emphasis that we place on 9/11 seems out of place. Perhaps it's the appropriation of the phrase "Never forget" as the mantra of "hunting down" the terrorists so they don't attack us again on "our soil." Growing up Jewish while there was an extreme push to get Holocaust survivors to tell their stories before they pass away, "never forget" is associated in my mind with the systematic massacre of 13 million people by the Nazis. And while the loss of life on 9/11 was a great tragedy, it doesn't register to me on the same level as the extermination campaigns of Adolf Hitler.

We are living in a time that we don't understand. The only constant is uncertainty, and we try to make meaning out of things by making analogies to previous things. We compare bin Laden to Hitler, we compare the Great Recession to the Great Depression, and we compare the technological boom with the industrial revolution. But the truth is we are living in the shadow of things past. And for me, the New Yorker cover Art Spiegelman made as a commemoration is still the most moving memorial of the events. So it is fitting that it later became the cover of his book In the Shadow of No Towers.

Unreasonable Expectations

New York legalized same sex marriage, and religious leaders across the state had a range of reactions to the news. One of the most intriguing reactions was the reaction of the Episcopal Bishop of Long Island, who demanded that priests in his diocese in same-sex relationships needed to marry their partners now that it was legal. Otherwise they would be living in sin. There is a 9-month grace period. after which partners must either marry or the layperson in the couple must move out of church property. This is perhaps the most intriguing implication of the policy for devout practitioners.

First, not all people involved in long-term relationships want to be married. Some couples I know do want to be married but refuse to marry until the federal goverment would recognize marriage of all pairs of consenting adults. Second, I understand that the Episcopal church privileges marriage as an expression of sanctified love and a recognized family unit within the church. However, I feel that for some people who have not yet had the opportunity to consider and evaluate either the legal or spiritual implications of their marriages, to rush them into marriage, even if they are already in a long-term committed relationship. Forcing marriage in a 9-month period seems coercive to my mind, even if the overall goal is in line with Episcopal theology. Pressuring people to marry seems antithetical to any moral philosophy, and I would hope that either the grace period is extended or the church will provide adequate counseling services for both partners in these relationships.

Glenn Beck and Jews

In July, Glenn Beck gave a speech in which he asserted that if Israel is threatened or Jews are being killed, the perpetrators of violence should count him a Jew and come for him first. The statement was somewhat of a political success for Beck, who has been criticized by many for his comments comparing Reform rabbis to Islamist extremists.

I have news for Glenn Beck. If you want to show solidarity with Jews, you cannot pick and choose which Jews you support. Judaism is not a religion of convenience, and the Jewish people are not a nation of convenience. So, let me introduce myself:

I am a liberal, transmasculine Jew, who is attracted to people of a variety of genders. I identify as queer. I was raised in the Reform Movement and still find my Jewish home in a Reform synagogue. I am young, Zionist, and a harsh critic of Israeli policy. I am for peace and Palestinian statehood, not necessarily in that order. I am not traditionally observant, but I am deeply religious. I believe in equal marriage, a woman's right make choices regarding her body, and big government. I believe that Israel needs to obey international law, and I personally hold Israel to a different standard with regard to its politics, policies, and international relations, but mine is a higher standard, not exemptions. I have no plans to move to Israel and no plans to start observing Shabbat in a tradtional way or plans to keep kosher. I have no plans to serve as anyone's token Jew. In my Judaism, recognizing the godliness in every human being is my paramount value. I believe in the separation of church and state in the United States, and I believe I should be able to walk down the street and not be harassed based on my gender expression, sexuality, or religion.

So, Glenn Beck, I ask you, if they come for me first, will you stand up for me? Will you say, count me in community with Kythe because he's a Jew? Or will you say "Kythe is not really a Jew, because good Jews aren't like Kythe?" The difference between you and me, Glenn Beck, is that you can choose in which contexts you affiliate with Jews. I can't.

I am a Jew always, not only when upstanding communiy members are under attack, but also when Jews murder young boys. I am not only a Jew in my synagogue or in interfaith dialogues, but I am a Jew when I am amidst groups of transgender folk, lesbians, gay men, bisexual people, genderqueer persons, and other people who have been systematically dehumanized by religious people and instituitons, including Jewish ones. Judaism is not a hat I take on and put off as it suits me.

I am glad that you were moved about persecution by your experience visiting Auschwitz-Birkenau. But I ask you, will you stick up for all those oppressed, or just those you approve of already?

Also, how will you stick up for others if they come for you first? You are a straight white man of considerable wealth. Using that advantage to end persecution is much better than using it to fall on a sword.

Say publicly that you'll stand up for people like me and I might take your commitment to be counted among Jews seriously. Until then, it's all enunciated hot air.

What else?

Writing about my love is hard. I promised to love her and I don't know how to move beyond that. I had to write to her brother that he wasn't responsible this year. He's getting to the age of maturity in his Catholic guilt.

An Open Letter to ARZA chair Rabbi Daniel Allen

Dear Rabbi Allen:

I am a Zionist and a Reform Jew. I received your letter about the ARZA petition against a United Nations (UN) process for a Palestinian state through my synagogue, and I was extremely offended. My Judaism demands that I speak out against injustice, and I will not refrain simply because ARZA is a Reform Jewish organization.

The petition which you requested Reform Jews sign is hypocritical, unjust, and contrary to Jewish values. In addition, the petition relies on false premises surrounding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I also believe focusing on preventing a UN vote is focusing on the wrong part of conflict mediation.

The letter you sent as well as the petition set up direct negotiation and UN action as mutually exclusive. However, there is no reason why the processes cannot be utilized in conjunction with each other. A UN vote only precludes negotiation if we let it, but Jewish groups taking that

Bringing statehood issues for a vote at the UN is not only one of few ways new states have to assert their legitimacy internationally, it is also the very path that Israel took to statehood. Rather than criticizing governmental entities using well-established legal means to achieve statehood, we should applaud foreign entities who seek out legal avenues to pursue change. Since the petition reaffirms support for a two-state solution, the only other principled objections can be to the timing of the request or to the borders proposed.

Asking millions of people to wait to gain citizenship rights until people who have not managed to reach solutions by war or negotiation for over 50 years is unreasonable. We do not ask people denied rights in the United States to wait for those rights. Amazing rabbis like Joachim Prinz and Arnold Jacob Wolf were extremely involved in the civil rights movement. The notion that this concern for human rights ends because the government denying them rights is Israel's is ridiculous; if anything, this should prompt us to work harder to advocate for their rights.

In 1947, the partition plan was created on the principle of dividing the land based on population. Jewish areas would become the Jewish sate and Arab areas their own state. That state was never declared. The problem with returning to the borders drawn up in 1947 is that they are no longer demographically tenable. So, if this is the ground of the current objections, it is an understandable objection. However, then the appropriate action is to propose a plan with more reasonable borders, and to encourage ongoing negotiations to finalize borders and other issues.

I am a religious Zionist and a political Zionist. My religious Zionism has nothing to do with my political Zionism, and I find your use of the pulpit to promote denying rights to millions of people unconscionable. You are promoting political stability over human rights. It wouldn't go over well as a d'var torah, and I didn't appreciate it in my inbox.

If you want to help Israel and the Palestinian Authority achieve an end of conflict agreement as well as a two-state solution, act reasonably to promote that goal. Promote negotiations in all circumstances. But don't use my religious affiliation to ask me to abandon my religious principles.

Sincerely,

A Reform Zionist in America

Grandpa

My grandfather was one of the best human beings I've known. He was kind and generous and never insulted anyone. I think some of my more masculine behaviors were learned from him, which may be why I come of as old-fashioned sometimes. And I wish I could raise a gin and tonic to him tonight and talk to him about girls (women - he would correct me), because he always had the best stories, if not the best advice.

Just a plug

Plugging my friend JK's excellent blog Cat Flight of Fancy in honor of unexpectedly running into him at lunch yesterday.

Summer's always hard

Summer is always hard, and I'm not talking about the extreme heat index numbers. For me, summer is the time when I lost those most important to me. Summer is the time when I read about the camp I used to attend and mourn that it is so heteronormative as to verge on homophobic, and is certainly institutionally transphobic. Summer has also become a time where I feel rather lonely.

Last week, the anniversary of my love's death hit pretty much as hard as it ever does. And all I wanted was to be back at OSRUI, taking refuge in the Tzofim Beit Teva or Tiferet's Ski Chalet. (Those who call it the Beit Am are being brainwashed by an attitude of Hebrew language supremacy at camp that I find detrimental, but that is perhaps for another post). I remembered one night in 1996. It was the first year of Tiferet workshop and the Ski Chalet did not yet exist. Tiferet used Metros and showered at Chalutzim. On this particular night, we had programming in the Art Center, not yet widely called by its Hebrew equivalent. The skies turned black all of a sudden and it started pouring. The lightning was very close, and we could not return to our cabins. We were preteens (that was the word before tweens for all you youngin's) not all scared but not too comfortable either. However, the songleader Josh Rabinowitz and the unit head Danny Maseng had their guitars and played us music until we fell asleep on the dance studio floor. And I found myself listening to my recording of Danny playing B'shem Hashem on loop not because his music is so amazing as to eliminate the pain of loss, but rather because at least I wouldn't be scared. His voice and that Carlebach tune combine in a way that still puts me at ease fifteen years later. And I missed camp, even its heteronormative aspects.

The most ironic element of missing camp wasn't its heteronormativity. It was that when I received the letter from my love's parents telling me of her death, the last place I wanted to be was OSRUI, where I had no access to modern conviences like the internet and the telephone. When I was in Chalutzim I spent half my camp summer cursing that I went to camp in the first place. Now when I have to deal with what happened, camp is the first place I think about, and I remembered writing my love a lengthy letter from Tiferet in 1996 describing what an amazing storm had rumbled through camp and how Danny and Josh had distracted us with wonderful music ranging from the chasidishe to James Taylor.

My Machon year at camp, I had a terrible time. I couldn't be out to staff or to campers, and I found myself much more aware of the institutional aspects of camp's homophobia and transphobia. I am told by those who have been there more recently that the situation is getting better, but I don't really believe them. The evidence is in the programming offered to campers, but that doesn't really help if counselors are still discouraged from coming out or discussing their own personal experiences of queerness as an identity. Obviously discussing personal sexual experiences with campers is bad, regardless of the genders of those involved. I resolved then not to go back until camp started moving rapidly in better directions of inclusiveness. My year on staff was my worst year at camp ever, mostly because the place I called home more than home for 10 years became a place that deliberately marginalized people like me.

But somehow, despite all this current animosity, OSRUI is still home for me. It's still the place where I first thought about becoming a rabbi. It's still the place where Judaism started making sense as a practice in addition to whatever religion was. It's the place I learned the power of music and art, not just from Ohad and Danny, but from the devastation my counselors experienced when Jerry Garcia died. (You may think I'm joking, but I'm not.) OSRUI is the place I learned about supporting my friends, and it's the place I learned how to give back massages. OSRUI is the place I learned that it's ok for a Jew to be an atheist, and it's also the place I learned to relate to God. OSRUI is the place I learned conflict resolution, but also the place I learned about solidarity. 70 Chalutzimniks chanting around the Migdal because there was no Israeli dancing our first Shabbat that summer may have been my first act of civil disobedience. OSRUI is the place I felt most alienated growing up with one Jewish parent (although there were lots of campers like me in that regard), but it is also the place where I first divulged my queerness to another person, a counselor whom I knew to be gay even though he never came out to me. My friends and even some former counselors and faculty from OSRUI populate half the contacts in my cell-phone, and I know that the bonds I have with old camp friends will last for longer than I can manage to keep in contact with those friends, although facebook has been a great help. But it pains me that I call a place that marginalizes me by omission home.

Of course, it's easier to talk about camp than loss. But what can I say about losing my love that I haven't said about a million times before?

Indepence Day

I narrowly avoided an argument with my roommate yesterday. The ginkgo girl moved out in the middle of June and one of my other friends moved in with me. There are very few arguments I do not wish to have. There are very few arguments I do not wish to have, but there are three or four that I cannot have and be civil at the same time. One of those is about the founding moments of the United States of America. When my roommate suggested that celebrating Independence Day was irrelevant to modern American life, it took all my strength not to go ballistic. I wanted to throw it back in her face and say that her being able to say that without fear of repercussions is reason enough to appreciate our freedom and form of government. I wanted to say some choice words too, but I simply suggested that I didn't want to have the argument and moved on.

We take our freedom and the struggle for our independence for granted now, perhaps because we feel historically removed from the situation. None of us were there for the continental congress when the Declaration of Independence was signed. We are so far removed from these struggles that when a survey was conducted in the 1960s asking people to identify the source of the first line of the Declaration of Independence, most thought it was from the charter for the radical organization Students for a Democratic Society. The line reads: "When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a descent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation." Usually, this confusion is used to point to the failures of American e ducation, which it certainly points to. However, the sentiments of revolution so eloquently captured in Thomas Jefferson's words are relevant not only to the American revolution, but to many subsequent ones.

I don't think the USA is the best country in the world, or that we always live up to the ideals that we have as a nation. But I do know that we are always expanding those ideals: voting is no longer restricted to rich white men, and we abolished slavery. And after the civil war which split our nation in two, President Lincoln assured "malice toward none" who had been in the confederacy. We are in struggles to expand equality further in this country. So, today, I will try not to take the freedom I enjoy for granted, and renew my commitment to helping expand the rights of those who live around me.

Parashat B'Chukotai: Doing Honest Business With God

Parashat B'Chukotai is the last Torah Portion in Leviticus. It starts with a discussion of reward and punishment based on whether the Israelites follow the laws about the Sabbatical and Jubilee years. Then it moves toward laws that seem even more egregious than consequences of bad behavior and our failure to be adequate stewards of the earth. The Torah discusses the various worths of different sorts of persons in the context of vowing the value of a person. As modern readers, we get bogged down in the difference between personal worth and economic worth, and the gender discrepancies involved. It is bothersome, understandably, that young able-bodied males are worth 50 shekels whereas females are only worth 30 shekels. However, often our conversation gets bogged down in the gender discrepancies, and once we have resolved them theologically or historically.

If for some reason, we get past the gender issues in our analysis, and in a 5 to 15 minute d'var torah they make an easy target, we then throw the entire situation out because this ritual was associated with the Temple cult. It's easier to call a whole practice outdated than to wrestle with what is good or bad inside the practice.

Once we get past these issues, a clear moral question comes to mind. Can we really put a price on any human life? In this sense the passage is inspiring of - what's the word? - righteous anger. How dare my precious scripture put a price on any human being? What does it mean to say human beings made in God's image are worth some sort of finite monetary value? This train of thought is important to consider. Is Torah contradicting itself here? And if so, which value supersedes the other? I say the value of humanity created b'tzelem elohim trumps all.

But this moral question is still a too-easy answer for what Torah is discussing here. Individuals are making vows worth a person to God, but doing business with a non-corporeal entity always requires a human broker. In this case, the priests act as brokers between God and humanity. Emotions run high if you have vowed the value of a spouse at war for her safe return. Torah recognizes that the practice of the business of vowing the value of a person is tempting but dangerous. People who have been gifted the safety of a loved one are in a vulnerable place. Priests may have been tempted to extort monetary amounts much greater than those outlined in parashat b'chukotai for these sorts of vows. The monetary amounts outlined ensure that no greater price may be demanded in such a situation, protecting society's most vulnerable from predatory practices. While the specifics may need to be left to their historical context, I believe this practice is a form of God using honest weights and measures in business. As remarkable as it seems, God is committing to following God's own holiness code.

Naivete

The first time I said "I love you" I was fourteen and I was late in saying it. My love had been saying it creatively for a few months, and I knew I loved her, but I was a little dense and didn't realize that she was saying "I love you." When I did finally realize it, I felt even more loved by her than I had before, mostly because of her enduring patience.

My fourteen-year-old self had no idea how my life would turn out, and assumed that we would last for ever. Death cannot stop true love. I was naive then, but I am disillusioned now. Honestly, I'm not sure which is better.

The Ethics and Practice of Radical Hospitality

On Passover we say let all who are hungry come an eat, but in general, we don't open our doors until after dinner. In Genesis, Abraham runs out to meet his guests. How did Jews get from running to greet guests to symbolically opening a door and closing it without really inviting anyone in?

I've been thinking a lot lately about hospitality. What does it mean to welcome the stranger? What are boundaries to welcoming in modern society? How do we create open and welcoming spaces? And how do we invite people to them?

Emphasis has been placed lately on offical documentation of welcoming policies. If a congregation has on it's website that it is welcoming to queer folk or interreligious couples, that translates into the congregration being welcoming to queer folk or interreligious couples, right? I wish, but it's not always the case. Welcoming statements need to be backed up by welcoming actions. I feel welcomed by the people at my synagogue most of the time, but there are no gender-neutral bathrooms there, which makes using the bathroom at the synagogue a harrowing experience.

I wonder at how welcome Jewish spaces are for non-Jews and for Jews. My parent's synagogue keeps its doors locked even during services because of a combination of fear of violence and the prevalence of unsavory characters in the small but urban downtown area in which their synagogue is located. I find it extremely distracting when the doorbell rings in the middle of Shabbat services.

I don't know how we walk the line between practicing radical hospitality and ensuring safety, but I know we don't do it well most of the time. Our ethics are there, but where is the practice?

Weighing in on St. Patrick's Day

So there's been some buzz on the Jewish blogosphere about St. Patrick's Day and other holidays of Christian origin pervasive in American culture. The other holidays that have been mentioned most are Valentine's Day and Halloween. The sense of the comments is that Jews should not celebrate these holidays because even if they are part of secular culture, they have Christian origin, so wearing green on St. Patrick's Day, for example, or drinking on St. Patrick's Day (when it's not ta'anit ester) is worship of saints and therefore idols.

But, for example, Christmas is a US federal holiday. Does that mean Jews who get Christmas off should break into work anyway because Christmas is of Christian origin? Many people get Sundays off for a similar reason.

However, consistency is not the only aspect these arguments lack. I'm not saying people should celebrate St. Patrick's Day if they feel uncomfortable doing so. But insinuating or calling for a collective ban on celebration of such days assumes a cultural similarity of all Jews. There are Irish Jews, and though St. Patrick's Day is for some a holy day of obligation, that does not negate the influence that Patrick had on Irish history. If Christians are not paying proper respect to their holy days, that is their own issue to resolve. It doesn't mean that I can no longer walk across the St. Joseph River or support the work of St. Jude's Children's Hospital. It also doesn't mean that I cannot find inspiration in the lives of those that Christians (or others) call saints.

In Defense of A Radical Political Reform Judaism

My Twitter feed is abuzz with outrage over Glenn Beck's recent comments that Reform Judaism is analagous to radical Islam. Many Jews, not just Reform Jews, and others have rushed to Reform Judaism's defense. People start their rebuttal of Glenn Beck by dismissing him entirely, which I think is fair, but then they try to engage his argument, but do so poorly.

Reform Judaism could never be like radical Islam, and therefore Glenn Beck is wrong, they argue. Glenn Beck is wrong, but for very different reasons than most people are talking about. The overt or covert Islamophobia in many of these arguments makes me sick to my stomach, even that of the ADL. Saying that Reform Judaism is not like militant Islam because Reform Jews are by-in-large non-violent when it comes to the practice of religion is true; saying Reform Judaism is not radical and has no political agenda is false.

Here are Glenn Beck's comments:

OK, you have to—hang on just a second. When you talk about rabbis, understand that most—most people who are not Jewish don’t understand that there are the Orthodox rabbis, and then there are the reformed rabbis. Reformed rabbis are generally political in nature. It’s almost like Islam, radicalized Islam in a way, to where it is just—radicalized Islam is less about religion than it is about politics. When you look at the reform Judaism, it is more about politics.

Let's try to address this in a systematic way and not just call Glenn Beck off-base because he generally is. First Glenn Beck is obviously coming from a place of ignorance. Neither the Jewish world nor even the American Jewish community can be divided into any sort of binary classification. It is not "Orthodox vs. everyone else." In addition, the largest group of affiliated Jews in the United States are Reform Jews. Not reformed, most of us have not abandoned evil ways in favor of shaping up to be reintegrated into the community at large. Not reformed as if all the change that needs to happen in Judaism has happened already. Reform Judaism acknowledges the continuing need for evolving tradition. So do I think that Glenn Beck in his comments is coming from a place of deep ignorance and profound disrespect. But this is not unusual for Glenn Beck, and I don't think that Jews or Reform Jews should choose this moment to notice that Glenn Beck is ignorant and disrespectful simply because he was talking about us.

Glenn Beck says Reform rabbis are generally political in nature. I disagree fundamentally with this statement. Many Reform rabbis want to stay as far away from politics as they can. However, some of the most visible Reform rabbis in this country, and particularly in Washington, are actively engaged in politics. Rabbi David Saperstein foremost among them, there are many Reform rabbis who are active politically, and the Religious Action Center is a political lobby organized by the Reform movement. And rightly so. Torah tells us not to put a stumbling block in front of the blind and not to oppress the stranger. Torah tells us to recognize the godly in every individual, to welcome guests and care for the orphan, to pursue justice, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. Working for these goals within the existing political structure of America is not only a profound expression of Jewish religious sentiment, but also profoundly patriotic. Tikkun Olam applies even to secular governments - we can and we must make our country better.

This brings us to the actual place where Glenn Beck's argument breaks down. It doesn't break down because Reform Judaism is not political - if Reform Jews are not political, we're doing it wrong. It breaks down because Glenn Beck is insinuating that politics and religion can be neatly separated. You have politics on the one hand and religion on the other and the two never have reason to interact. But, you might be saying, you are a staunch advocate of the separation of Church and State. I am, I do not approve of organized religious bodies creating laws - that is for the legislature. However, that does not mean that I as a voter have to leave my beliefs at the door of my polling place or my congressman's office. My political beliefs are rooted in my religious morality - and I daresay Glenn Beck's are based in his. Political activisim is a part of my religion, and if that makes me a radical - good.

Jews worshop a divinity that cannot not be seen or represented with imagery. Am Yisrael knows not to oppress the stranger for we know the soul of the strangers, having been strangers in the land of Egypt. We strive to practice the hospitality of Abraham, to work for the justice of Isaiah, and live the law of Moses. And we strive to be like the disciples of Aaron - loving peace and pursuing it. I believe that the Israelitic religion was radical, and that the rabbis radically transformed that religion into Judaism, a religion founded on loving our neighbors as ourselves.

Judaism is by nature radical, and one of the most famous radical Jews in US history was Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, an Orthodox Rabbi. You can find a picture of him marching with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. on Wikipedia, among other locations. Joachim Prinz, a Reform rabbi, spoke before Dr. King at the March on Washington. In his speech, he explained "Neighbor is not a geographic term. It is a moral concept." It is this moral, this religious concept that motivates much of Reform Jewish politics. Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise, the founder of American Reform Judaism, took the Torah to women and counted them in his minyan, a quorum of 10 necessary for Jewish prayer over 70 years before women gained the right to vote in this country. A Jew who is not engaged in the betterment of society, including secular society, is shirking hir duty to make this world a better place. As quoted in Pirkei Avot, Rabbi Tarfon said: It is not up to you to finish the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.

Politically engaged Reform rabbis might not talk about their motivations being God's command. But they should not need to. Ideals of freedom, of justice, of equality and inclusion might be godly, but they do not need God as justification. Talking about these ideas in a broader context does not mean the work involved in bringing them about is areligious or unfaithful.

Furthermore, Glenn Beck has no qualifications to say whether any person other than himself has faith or is motivated to act by that faith. Many Reform rabbis are motivated to be politically active by their faith.

Another problem with Glenn Beck's argument is that he equates religion with faith. Faith is an aspect of many religions, but it is neither a sine qua non of religion nor the most important aspect of many religions. Even if Reform rabbis are not motivated by faith, that doesn't make their religious motivations any less valid. Religion is not only about faith, and it is poor for someone to equate the two.

Futhermore, Glenn Beck is a religious political pundit. Glenn Beck is open about his Mormonism, and I think he would be hard-pressed to say his religion doesn't play into his political views.

The bigger picture is this: Reform Jews, including rabbis, should not be ashamed of being political. We should be more political, and we should be proud of our political history while recognizing that it is still not enough. We should revel in moments like the one pictured in the link above, where Rabbi Maurice Eisendrath presented President Kennedy with a Torah once owned by Isaac Mayer Wise in honor of the opening of the Religious Action Center. However, we should recognize that Rabbi Saperstein has still not worked himself out of a job.

Can Reform Jews stop being radical and political? Only when the Messianic Age begins.

Speaking Out

One of the best pieces of speaking up I have ever read was recently on the blog Nerdy Apple Bottom, which you can find linked to on this post. The blogger ends her post with the following:

And again I say to you that bullying is not okay, even if you wrap it in a bow and call it ‘spiritual care.’

I'd like to add one thing: bullying is especially not okay if you wrap it in a bow and call it spiritual care.

Blizzard

Now perhaps my friends will understand that blizzards are dangerous. Cars and possibly still some people are stranded on Lake Shore Dr. But I look at the white out windy conditions and I want to run outside with my love and make snow forts and snow angels. Of course, that too would be dangerous, but it's also impossible.

The Type

I found myself on Friday night frustrated with a young friend of mine for having views of the future. I think I was just bitter that I can no longer be that type of person.

Men's Group

So this week I went to a men's group for the first time in my life. Growing up, I was always skeptical of any gender-specific spaces, and in many ways, still am. The discussion facilitator for this group, which focuses on what it means to be a young religious man, or something like that, is a woman, so I feel less awkward about the group being somehow "men's only space". However, I think the opportunity to discuss men's issues is not taken enough, either in public or private spaces, so I was curious. I found that the discussion we had was meaningful, and it was not the sort of discussion I have in other contexts. Admittedly, my experience of masculinity and manhood is quite different from that of the cisgendered men in the group, their experiences are actually quite different from each others, as well. The group gives us a place to talk about men's issues, and I think that it could be done with more people who are not men there as well, but the conversation would be very different. There is a certain comfort and ease in sitting with a group of men that enables us to say things that in other contexts, or even in that context, may be inappropriate, but give each other leeway to speak our minds, a leeway which is often not granted in other contexts.

On new family

I went to Grand Cayman last week for my brother's wedding. His wife's family is great, and to be honest, in many ways I get along better with her than with him. It was wonderful to get a week of shorts weather in January, and to see some family that I hadn't seen in ages. I also got to meet my two youngest cousins. I am starting to get over my nervousness around babies - I much prefer people who can talk.

I had the awkwardness of coming out to my uncle before signing the ketuba as my sister-in-law's witness.