A New Proposal: Gay Marriage, Orthodox Style

Okay, so Yenta the matchmaker he's not. But, as Hodel says in that famous Fiddler scene, "Well, somebody has to arrange the matches," and with 11 marriages and one recent engagement of couples he set up, Rabbi Arele Harel has been doing just that. The unions facilitated by Rabbi Harel, a teacher at a yeshiva in Elon Moreh in Israel, are traditionally structured; each of these cross-marriages is a "union between one man and one woman as husband and wife." What makes these couples unique is that they are all made up of Orthodox, gay men and lesbian women who see this novel type of relationship as  their chance to experience the companionship, family, and the chance to have a normal place within the community.

Initial Reactions

Before we proceed, I'll give you all a chance to silently voice your cynicism.
Okay, that was good. Now we can move on. Don't worry, though, you're not alone. People all over the spectrum have been doing the same since this Ha'aretz article was published. On the religious side, this has been expressed largely through the familiar method of ignoring it altogether. One, more progressive Haredi blog did post the piece, but—if the commenters are any indication—the readers simply didn't know what to make of the idea, with one asking "Is this real?" and another exclaiming that this sounds like Chelm, a town that in old Jewish humor was always finding foolish solutions to problems.
Liberal Jewish outlets instinctively reacted with disparagements that seem to stem more from objections to the halachic prohibition of same-sex intimacy in general than to this specific solution. Jewcy editor, Jason diamond, noting that this arrangement involves celibacy for both spouses, writes "I suppose this [type of marriage] is just a bizarre interpretation" of a philosophy that it is a great mitzvah "for a gay person to enter into a straight marriage, as it shows even greater respect for Halacha... Either way, we don’t get it." In the wider gay and lesbian community, one blog that aims, it's header states, to "discuss and promote all things GLBTQ" actually denounces the men and women entering into these marriages, calling this a "very sad day for the Israeli gay and lesbian community," and writing, "shame on those individuals involving themselves in these twisted concoctions of marital arrangements."

On Further Reflection

My own initial reaction was no different. When I first heard about this cross-marriage idea from a friend, I honestly thought it was some weird joke, or at least a really bad idea. So much of the isolation and emotional distress experienced by gays and lesbians in our community is a result of their having to lead "double lives," compartmentalizing their Jewish and homosexual identities, lying, and often limiting their contact with others in the community so that major aspects of their identities do not become revealed. However, once I realized that this was really being done, and, more importantly, as an earnest attempt to address part of the problem faced by Orthodox homosexuals, I began to actually think about the idea.
If nothing else, what Rabbi Harel has been doing is momentous because, to my knowledge, it is the first rabbinical initiative that extends beyond academic statements of principal (although those are important, as well) to actually create real change in the way gay and lesbian Orthodox Jews—who are already overcoming immense challenges in order to be fully shomrei halacha (observant of the letter of the law)—to interact with the community.
As far as my reservations? Well, the issues behind them are still quite real. However, when you look at those issues in their broad and painfully complex context, and consider the other existing or theoretical options for the men and women who would opt for this type of marriage, it becomes clear that for now, while this is at best an okay solution, it still is at least an okay solution.

Hidden Identity

It is true that in this arrangement the husbands and wives would still need to hide a major part of their identities from their communities. However, entering into a cross-marriage would likely lessen greatly the identity conflict, estrangement, and isolation, currently associated with that secrecy, especially as they relate to to the couples’ families.
In a study of gay Jewish men of various affiliations (Coyle & Rafalin, 2000), when describing their experience disclosing their sexual identity to their parents and the negative reactions they received:

Half the participants said that their parents’ main concern related to the continuation of their family and of the Jewish people. They described parental concerns about their sons not marrying, not creating a Jewish home and a Jewish family and not providing them with grandchildren. [One participant] reported that because of this, in his parents’ eyes, as a gay man he was ‘‘a waste of manhood [ ] or a life (p. 34).

This would seem no less true for women who, especially in the more Haredi communities, are raised to see their primary function as raising a family.
For gay and lesbian Orthodox men and women, marrying one another affords them the opportunity to actually build Jewish homes, with grandchildren for their parents to spoil and to show off, wallet-sized, to their friends. With family continuity anxieties extracted from the process, disclosing their homosexuality their respective parents becomes an entirely different endeavor. Couples in cross-marriage arrangements could likely share their sexual identity with their families and maintain strong relationships with them, reducing their identity conflict and helping to retain their vital support network.

A Seat at the Table

Another thing that these marriages represent for their entrants is a place card. One of the drawbacks of the Orthodox community’s being so family-oriented is that most settings for acting or interacting in the community are dependent on traditional family roles. For example, women make friends and socialize as mothers in carpool, PTA, and playgrounds (and usually talk about their kids). Outside of school, boys—especially in the more Haredi communities—interface with the community as sons, in father-son learning programs or even simply having a place to sit in shul. In certain communities a man can’t daven for the amud (lead the prayers) if he’s not married.
In communities like that, being forced to live single can mean, in effect, having to stand along the community margins for one’s entire life. These marriages allow homosexual Orthodox individuals to form families and finally join (albeit with some concealment) their own communities.

Family Life

Of course, the men and women like entering cross-marriages would not be looking to create families simply to ingratiate themselves with critical parents or as some sort of subterfuge for them to infiltrate our communities. Raising children is a universal human instinct, irrespective of one’s sexual identity. Providence did dictate that the act of procreation be coupled with the drive for copulation (heterosexual, of course). A happy confluence for humanity, no doubt; however that does not mean that those who don’t desire the latter won’t desire the former. Marriage for them is a chance to have what so many others take for granted: a real family, with deep conjugal—if not sexual—companionship and children who are biologically their own.

Other Options

These points seem even more compelling when you consider the other options that homosexual Orthodox men and women face. If you were a young Orthodox man with yiras shomayim (awe of G-d) who deeply cares about keeping orthodox halacha, and also has same-sex only attraction, how would you choose to go through life?

"EVERYTHING BUT"
You could take the approach that G-d would not give a mitzvah that a person by his or her nature can only observe with excessive hardship, and stick with the other 612. However, if your religious identity is more prominent than your sexual identity and you are committed to uncompromising adherence to halachah (in its normative Orthodox interpretation) then you will probably see in that approach a flawed mindset and an unacceptable (or at least guilt-inducing) halachic concession.
So you will have to choose an option that does not involve intimate relationships with men. Until now there have been two: get married or stay alone. Either way, however, if choose to stay within the Orthodox community—to which you feel you belong, and within which lie many of the requisites for your religious and spiritual advancement—you will almost certainly need to conceal your homosexuality (don’t forget, not critiquing Orthodoxy, critiquing the marriage plan!).

MARRY
If you are terrified enough by the risk exposure and by communal and family pressure toward conformity, you might be compelled to follow the other bochurim (young, single men) into the “shidduch (matchmaking) scene,” and try your hand at a relationship with a woman. You might even do well in the dating process, which involves no physical contact, and—lasting, as it does for some, for only 2-3 months—will not pose much of a threat to your concealment. However, once you were engaged you would probably begin to realize what a serious mess you’ve gotten yourself and some poor, oblivious girl into, but you’d have little escape.
You might be able to stand the inner struggle behind the duplicity; between a desperate desire to fit in and be what your wife and family expect you to be; your inner yearning to show your true, full self to those same people; and your hopeful determination not to hurt anyone. Maybe you’ll be able to live with that for 20 years before you give up on the charade and dispel the illusions of the family you’ve built. Maybe you’ll talk straight with your kallah (bride) on your wedding night, and letting her know just what not to expect, and leaving her holding the bag. Or, you might just buckle under the pressure, like many have before you, despair of the battle and “cast your cares on the L-rd.”

REMAIN ALONE
If that vision doesn’t entice you then your only option is to remain alone for life, doubly isolated by the secret that you bear. The challenges that you face would be so trying that, Rabbi Chaim Rapoport comments in his Judaism and Homosexuality: An Authentic Orthodox View (2004), they would put any judgmental heterosexual Jew in their place. Rapoport challenges readers to ask themselves:

"If I were to find myself in a situation whereby I would constantly be yearning to be in a loving relationship—of a type that includes physical intimacy—and the only sexual relationships I could reasonably have would be with a member of the same gender, would I live up to the Torah’s demands?" or "If I knew that there is never likely to be any way of experiencing sexual fulfillment in a halakhically permissible manner, and at the same time, I would almost constantly be exposed to sexual temptation [because of the way that the Orthodox community separates the genders from one another], would I have the fortitude to remain alone and celibate?" I venture to say that many a heterosexual person who confronts himself honestly with such questions would indeed be humbled (p. 71).

Discussion

Clearly, these options hold no hope for homosexual, Orthodox men and women. Rabbi Harel’s cross-marriages do have drawbacks, and some precautions--such as waiting a minimum number of years before having children to see if the match is viable--might be prudent. Nevertheless, this approach offers a chance for some level of love and inclusion that participants might never otherwise get.
Of course, we can’t hope to address the lack of tenable choices entirely through clever contrivances or work-arounds. Meaningful, long-term solutions must include systemic changes throughout the communal context. However, change on that level will never occur until the dilemma of homosexual Torah observant Jews is recognized as a legitimate, serious, and widespread problem. Leaders in our community must open dialogue, both amongst themselves and with gay and lesbian frum men and women, to hear their perspective and learn from their suggestions. We must, as a community, learn to move beyond instinctive reactions to recognize that, while there are homosexual groups who are highly resentful of religion, there are also earnest men and women in our own shuls and batei midrash who fight to suppress their drives only to be suppressed themselves by the very system for which they’ve sacrificed.
The process will be slow, assumptions will have to be abandoned, and sensibilities will likely be upset. We won’t know where we’re going or agree on how to get there, but one thing we do know: our own sons and daughters are dealing with struggles that our community can ease, and we are doing nothing about it.
Even so, large scale change is a worthy ambition, but we cannot use that goal for the future to duck the work for right now. Cross-marriages are not the solution. But for right now, I'm afraid they're the best we've got.


PLEASE NOTE: This essay is not intended to represent, in any way, psak halacha.

REFERENCES
Coyle, A. & Rafalin, D. (2000). Jewish gay men’s accounts of negotiating cultural, religious, and sexual identity: A qualitative study.Journal of Psychology & Human Sexuality, 12(4) 21-48
Rapoport, C. (2004) Judaism and Homosexuality: An Authentic Orthodox View. London and Portland: Vallentine Mitchell.

UPDATE: 8/17/2011

Rabbi Harel takes the world stage, discussing the upcoming launch of his online match-making service in Time Magazine. (article and video)

The Great Wedding Walkout: Litvish Appeal and the Fight Against Internalized Sephardi Racism

The Event

The Rosh Yeshiva walked down the aisle... and right out the door, dragging all of the chosson/chattan's (groom's) friends behind him and leaving the poor newlywed—pleading for him to let the boys stay—to cry alone. At issue: the Israeli rabbi's objection to the bride and groom conducting their wedding according to normative Sephardic halacha. No, this is not an Ashkenazi couple breaking from tradition; both bride and groom are from sephardi families, the groom's father even a rav of a Sephardi congregation. Not even the ruthless Rosh Yeshiva is Ashkenazi; he's a Sephardic man heading a school for Sephardic boys.

Not surprisingly, the Rabbis Yosef, champions of Sephardi halacha, responded quickly and forcefully. Rav Yitzchak Yosef headed straight over to the wedding to celebrate with the abandoned groom and his father, Rav Ovadia invited the groom's family to his Jerusalem home the next day. Rav Avraham Yosef, Chief Rabbi of Holon and Sephardi representative on the Chief Rabbinite Counsel, said in a radio interview that the rosh yeshiva is a "criminal," adding that he should be banished from the city and that it is assur to learn Torah from such a person.

The Read

Clearly, the issue here runs deeper than a rabbi being a jerk or supporting the unquestionable halachic basis for following the (legitimate) practices of one's forefathers. This event represents one of the fundamental struggles of Sephardi Jews living as a socio-religious minority group in today's Haredi Israel.

Tensions between Ashkenazi and Sephardi Jews are nothing new in Israel. Shas and the Education Ministry are still fighting to solve the problem of Sephardi girls sitting at home because they can't find Ashkenazi high schools that will take girls with their skin color. What this fiasco highlights is something more insidious than external Ashkenazi discrimination. It demonstrates Sephardi Jews who have so internalized the societal biases against them that they abandon halacha and human decency in an attempt to "overcome" what the see as their racial handicap.

We can get a bit of interesting insight into this phenomenon by looking at the experiences of African Americans and members of other American minority groups with their race here in the U.S. The study of racial identity looks at the way in which individuals see their own race in relation to the majority race and how that view affects the role of race within their overall sense of who they are. Atkinson, Morten, and Sue's  (1998) Racial/Cultural Identity Development Model (R/CID)  defines five stages through which individuals progress along the path to a fully integrated racial identity.

The most primitive stage is conformity, in which individuals hold negative attitudes and beliefs toward themselves and toward members of the same minority group, while holding appreciating attitudes and beliefs toward members of the dominant group. Individuals at this stage attempt to deny thier own racial/cultural heritage. However, as they encounter information or experiences that are inconsistent with the attitudes, held by the dominant culture they gradually move into the dissonance stage. Here they experience conflict: between thier self-depreciating and self-appreciating attitudes and beliefs, between group-depreciating and group-appreciating attitudes and beliefs toward members of the same minority, and between group-appreciating and group-depreciating attitudes toward members of the dominant group.

As the individual develops through the resistance and immersion stage, he or she comes to completely reject the dominant culture in favor of the beliefs and values of his or hew own race or culture, with increased regard for self and group coming together with group-depricating attitudes toward the majority culture. The introspection stage is where the individual is able to reassess his or her ethno-centric biases after recognizing how draining it is to devote such emotional intensity to and how unsatisfying it could be to hold resistance and immersion-stage views. Finally, by the integrative awareness stage, minority individuals  have developed an inner sense of security and they own and appreciate unique aspects of both their own and the mainstream culture.

What Rav Ovadia et. al, are doing is more than just defending their culture. They are fighting to prevent their Sephardic followers from regressing in their cultural identity development to a stage of conformity. In Israel's current socio-religious climate, it is hard to be proud of being a Sephardi. So hard that even a learned man with his own yeshiva, who should know better--both from a halachic and a don't-be-a-jerk perspective--will still go to shameful lengths to try to be like the Ashkenaz. Thier fight is an important one, but time will tell if it can stand up to the force of Litvish appeal.

Thought Control and Halacha, Part 1

Several weeks ago I received an email asking about the intersection of psychology and halacha with regard to mandated and proscribed thought. How far does the Torah go in prohibiting certain thoughts, and is such a thing even possible? The following discussion is neither exhaustive nor halachic, but it presents the topic as it has occurred to me as I have thought about the question.

Categories of Thought

There are several levels of halachically categorized thought. 

On the most sustained level, there is belief, about which we have mitzvot such as the 1st dibrah (commandment, i.e., "I am the Eternal, your G-d...") and the Rambam's ikarim (Maimonedes' 13 principals of faith). (See also Ramchal's Daat Tevonot for a much longer discussion and the Shaar HaYichud VeHaemuna from the Tanya). Those fundamental mitzvot of faith point to the centrality of thought as a means of individuals' fulfilling a purpose of creation, Kevod Shamayim, and generally bringing about the universal, eschatological object of Yichud Hashem (the revelation of G-d's Unity), along the lines of "Umalah haaretz daat et Hashem." 

The Torah also relates halachically to certain attitudes such as the kavod and yir'ah (honor and awe) required toward parents, the ahava (love) required toward one's fellow and, in particular, converts, and the hatred that one is prohibited from harboring "in [his or her] heart." I refer to them as attitudes rather than feelings because they are more cognitive than the mitzvot of affect such as "vesamachata bechagecha" (rejoicing on the holiday) and mourning for a loved one or for the Temple. However, those two categories are alike in that while the mitzot in both are, in essence, internal and abstract, they are given behavioral parameters. For example, honoring one's parents involves doing things to help them and having awe means not doing things such as sitting in their seats. Similarly, having joy on the holidays entails eating meat and drinking wine.

A more delimited form of thought is remembering. In the context of mitzvot, this is operationalized as active recollection, or self-reminding, as opposed to the passive state of not having forgotten that pertains, for instance, to the validity of a witness' testimony. Examples of this include the 6 remembrances mentioned in the Torah and typically found in siddurim at the end of the Shacharit service. These include remembering: (a) the Exodus Egypt (Deut 6:3); (b) the incident of the golden calf (Deut 9:7); (c) the giving of the Torah at Sinai (Deut 4:9- 10); (d) the Sabbath (Exodus 20:8); (e) the attack of Amalek (Deut 25:17-19); and (f) Miriam's tzaraat (Deut 24:9, Numbers 12:10).

A, perhaps, more involved form of thought is referred to by chazal (the early rabbis) as hirhur, or contemplation. This involves actively considering a matter to the point that the endeavor takes on some of the behavioral properties of speech, with various ramifications. Thus, for example, there are opinions that hirhur is "ke'dibur" (serves as speech) in the context of learning Torah (with implications for reciting a blessing beforehand) counting the omer, and reciting the Shema, among others. This term is also applied to fantasizing about illicit acts, as will be discussed below. In the context of Shabbat, where discussion of mundane matters is prohibited, there is an explicit drasha (hermeneutical derivation) that permits mundane hirhur. 

Two forms of intent have relevance in the context of particular actions that they accompany. These are kavanah (mindfulness), and daat (consent). Kavanah is a form of intentionality that qualitatively shapes a person's fulfillment of a mitzvah. Certain mitzvot are more dependent on, or sensitive to, kavanah than others. Typically, action-based mitzvot can be fulfilled without the requisite kavanah, although doing so is less than ideal. (The particulars of this rule are the subject of lengthy halachic discussions that are beyond the present scope). Tefilah (prayer), on the other hand requires a certain minimal level of kavanah in order to have meaning. (See the first piece in Rav Haim Solovietchik's Chiddushei Rav Chaim al HaRambam). In addition, "negative" kavanah can prevent an act from constituting the fulfillment of a mitzvah in situations where the individual explicitly intends for it not to be. 

RCA Issues Strong Resolution Condemning Child Abuse

The Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) today released a resolution reaffirming its commitment to preventing sexual and physical abuse in the Orthodox community and supporting victims and their families. 


The announcement, posted on RCA's website and circulated among community activists and professionals, cites the incidents "of high profile cases in which Orthodox rabbis have been indicted or convicted for child abuse or child endangerment" and  acknowledges the devastation that abuse causes for victims and their families and the difficulties associated with victims' coming forward with reports. It reiterates RCA's position that it is "halakhically obligatory" to report abuse to law enforcement and that doing so does not violate the laws of mesirah (reporting crimes to the civil authorities) or arka’ot (adjudication in civil courts).


The RCA resolves to publicly address future cases involving abuse in the Jewish community and to train members annually in "understanding and responding to issues of child abuse." It also calls on RCA members to prominently post information about abuse services in "all synagogues, schools, and Jewish community institutions serviced by its members" and to " address the issues of child abuse in their communities in at least one sermon, lecture or article within the next twelve months." 


Some activists, while praising the statement, still note that it leaves out mention of adult victims. They caution that that omission might allow the community to view situations of community leaders sexually exploiting adult congregants or followers as consensual relationships rather than as the serious violations that they are. Such situations often result in serious consequences for their victims, including being shunned or threatened by the community and losing custody battles.  


Nevertheless, this strong position and the specificity of the resolution are being applauded by community groups who see it as an important step toward increasing community awareness and responsibility on the issue of sexual abuse. It also sets the RCA widely apart from the Haredi Agudas Yisroel of America, whose executive vice president, Chaim Dovid Zwiebel, addressed the issue in general terms several months ago at their own convention, but have yet to take action or make any specific commitments. 

Burqa Women Reconsidered

Last week I posted an essay on Burqa-wearing women and feminism. Among the thoughtful responses I received was one from a friend in Jerusalem, who called my attention to this discussion from the (actually) feminist Lilith Magazine blog. (For those who linked here from The Matzav, see me after class and I'll explain.)The friend writes:

The author likens Burqa fashion choices among Haredi women to anorexia in that the women internalize a cultural/societal ideal (ie. thinness or modesty) that they take to an extreme. Both anorexia and burqa donning serve to make a person's self and sexuality disappear in some way.

Also, as a proud feminist, I know that many women who make moves in the name of control over their own bodies and lives, may resist and even loathe the title feminist.
I don't think it's fair to label these Haredi women with a term which they would not choose for themselves.

Furthermore, I believe that feminism involves a conscious effort to dismantle gender hierarchy.  Though these women may be behaving in a subversive manner, disobeying the wishes of the men dictating how much clothing they may put on and take off, their action does not serve to question or change the underlying power structure.

I agree with many of my friend's points, especially not to impose a loaded label upon the religious actions of a particular individual. The anorexia perspective is very compelling, and likely has a lot of truth to it, as well. Yet, I think there is still merit to post, even if it's observations are more relevant as a statement about the role of "frumkeit" in maintaining the hegemonic power balance than about the specific intentions of the individuals wearing the burkas. (It's kind of like the wife of the man who waves a shulchan aruch to justify all of his mistreatment of her getting her own s'micha and leaving him to sulk.

Getting Fired Up over the Burqa Ladies

When I was in yeshiva, there was a guy there with darkish skin and a really big beard who used to always get stopped at the airport. Apparently, he bore a striking, but (as far as I know) purely incidental, resemblance to another guy halfway around the world who is even frummer than he is, but in a more... evil sort of way. This story is kind of the same, just a littler weirder. The nod to Islam was a bit more overt, and instead of an innocent yeshiva guy, it involved a follower of a convicted, violent child abuser, dubbed "Taliban mom" by the Israeli media.

This past Tuesday, outside of Kfar Saba, Israel, police officers spotted a suspicious-looking woman wearing what they called a "Taliban-like outfit" and carrying two suitcases. When officers called for her to stop, she ignored them and attempted to flee. At that point, the officers fired into the air, overpowered the woman, and took her into custody. (Kind of ironic that being too tznuah, modest, to talk to the male officers scored her a full tackle.) She's now awaiting a psychiatric evaluation. (Presumably it has something to do with the burqa, but it might also have something to do with the toy airport they found in her other suitcase. Just a guess...)

I've been following the veil tale for a while now (there's even been a spotting in Brooklyn! Tip of the abaya to Y-Love), but I still can't get my head completely around it. Especially in the current world context. Iran has its sights set squarely on Israel, women there and in the U.S. are fighting for more freedom, and Israeli women chose to restrict themselves even more with Persia's finest?! 

Elana Sztokman on Forward's "Sisterhood" blog sees this phenomenon as an extension of the existing rabbinically-imposed stringencies on women's dress, adding that it is difficult for one to "easily distinguish between extreme body cover that is 'normal' and that which is somehow extreme." She continues:

As if women – bombarded with radical messages of body cover supposedly in the name of God that claim the purity of the entire Jewish nation dependent on women’s invisibility – are somehow supposed to be able to know the difference between body cover that is “womanly” and that which is “crazy”. Given the predominance of this rhetoric in the Orthodox community, it was only a matter of time before women internalized the messages to the extreme. What is really infuriating is that none of the male “leaders” in Orthodoxy who rant and rave about women’s body cover now claim responsibility for the current extremism. It’s not their fault. Women have merely taken it “too far.” Right.

The problem with Sztokman's argument is that in defending the rights of the oppressively appareled Orthodox, she also sacrifices their intelligence. Besides, the leader of this veiled rebellion, Bruria Keren, does not seem the model of hegemonic submission (just ask her kids!). Nor do her followers who endure well-placed disdain and outcry in the name of their twisted notion of tznius.

No, I think that the burqa bonanza represents a more sophisticated phenomenon that R/M Horowitz and the Women of the Wall know well, but would likely not recognize underneath all those layers: feminism. 

In both of those cases, the women and their supporters are interested in the same, fundamentally reasonable thing (even if one's hashkafos don't agree with their specific arguments): finding a meaningful place for women in contemporary Jewish life. I believe the Burqa Brigade is motivated by the same drive. The only difference between the maharats and the muftis, between the rabbas and the burqas is the culture from which they emerged. 

In the relatively open Modern Orthodox society, dissent is tolerated, and even civilly engaged. The goals of the dissenting women reflect both the religious and social ideals of their community: scholarship, personal achievement, and spiritual self-actualization. The flexibility of Modern Orthodoxy’s religious boundaries also means that dissenters can envision their goals at just the borders of the movement, stretching just enough while remaining, they hope, within the fold. 

The female dissenters that Haredi Israel produces reflect equally upon that society's socio-religious makeup. There, where overt challenges to religious-political norms are not tolerated, dissent must be more subtle (even if the behavior is not). Where women have no voice, their protest must be without words. There, frumkeit is king (now queen), and individuality a nobody. In the monolith that is Haredi-brand Judaism, boundaries are binary, and there is no stretching; fighting at the margins only guarantees marginalization.   Women who grasp at power in that world cannot stage their battle at the periphery, they must fight at its core. 

The Haredi women who wear the burqa are not looking to be more eidel than your maidel; they're fighting the power. They keenly recognize that purloining power in their communities means reclaiming the reins of religiosity. So they’re really stickin’ it to the man by being frum in the only way he says they can’t. These women are reclaiming sexual repression and hegemony, holding halacha over their own heads as if to say "I'm the boss of me!" as much as "Grab it if you can!" 

Think of it this way... if Lipa is the Haredi Kanye West, and Yidden is the Haredi Stayin' Alive, then donning the Burqa is the Haredi bra burning!

Going GaGa for Shaya & Perry

Are you from Shaya’s side or Perry’s side?

Neither one? Don’t worry; most of the people who have “attended” this wedding still couldn’t pick the bride or groom out of a crowd. But one thing’s for sure: we can all sing their names.

For those who have not used the Internet or email in the past week, Shaya and Perry are the Hassidic couple whose wedding entrance, captured on video (embedded below), has become an overnight viral sensation across the online Jewish world. The video, and the remarkable reaction to it, offers a fascinating window on the Jewish community and the way that technology and culture interact within it to shape and be shaped by one another.

The clip, featuring a Hassidic wedding band playing what the poster entitles “L.G. Fanfare” was uploaded to YouTube on March 17^th and quickly spread through blogs, email and Facebook posts. In the little over a week that it’s been online — while the infamous chosson and kallah (bride and groom) had barely made it past sheva brachos (the seven days of ritual celebration following a traditional Jewish wedding) — the video has been seen nearly 40,000 times, making Shaya and Perry, arguably, the Hassidic answer to Jill and Kevin and the Thriller folks.

If you're not among those 40,000, here's the object of all the fuss:

All Learning, No Play: Calls to Restrain Bochurim on Break

Israeli roshei yeshiva this year are are taking literally the Torah's charge of "shmor es chodesh ha'aviv" (literally, "Protect the spring month"). "Dei'ah Vedibur" (a website that bills itself as "a window into the Chareidi world") reports that these educators are urging parents to safeguard their children from the myriad spiritual dangers of bein hazmanim (lit. "between terms," in this case referring to the Pesach break that for many yeshivos spans the full month of Nisan). Those dangers include the usual suspects—Haredi internet sites and unblocked cellphones—but also include unsupervised trips to the North of Israel. 


The roshei yeshiva's stance apparently follows a notice distributed in the name of two preeminent gedolim from Yerushalayim and Bnei Brak, HaRav Yosef Sholom Eliashiv and HaRav Aharon Leib Shteinman. The notice, signed by those rabbis, is entitled "Amoleinu: Eilu HaBonim," a quote from the Haggadah (and Midrash) referring the the ancient Egyptians' practice of drowning newborn Jewish boys. This type of notice is a common medium for influencing public opinion in the Israeli Haredi community, which has traditionally shunned other forms of media. However, while the roshei yeshiva are treating the present announcement as genuinely from those gedolim, it is often difficult to verify the authenticity of the signatures on such notices.


Regarding trips, the notice exhorts:

Parents must be alert to the dangers and exhibit foresight and stand guard, not allowing their sons to set out on trips. If there is a real necessity they should take part in organized trips with proper supervision to prevent spiritual and physical dangers.

This position is nothing new. Haredi and Chassidish yeshivos and communities—both in Israel and the United States—have steadily stripped away boys' opportunities for exercise, play and other non-learning outlets, leaving them with scarce opportunities for stress relief or relaxation. This leaves boys, especially older ones, out of shape, overwhelmed by the demands of a long yeshiva day, and, in many cases, looking for alternative releases. In fact, even the learning itself suffers when students don't have enough recess and exercise. This announcement only tightens those restrictions, extending them to bein hazmanim, and even to trips that are not "real necessit[ies]." 


Maybe one day the roshei yeshiva will recognize the need to address the whole student, with all of his or her needs and development. Until then, however, Israeli yeshiva bochurim will have to rethink the meaning of "Zman Cheiruseinu."

R' Chaim Kanievsky to Yeshiva Bochurim: "Who Do You Think You Are?!"

(Yeshiva World News) HaRav Chaim Kanievsky, a foremost leader of the Israeli Charedi community and among the few true, league-of-thier-own gedolei Torah, spoke out recently against the phenomenon of yeshiva bochurim making exorbitant demands of potential in-laws. The rav told a gathering of roshei yeshiva that the trend of boys demanding–often of families who can not afford them–apartments is an "epidemic" that has "crossed acceptable boundaries" and must be fought. "When we were young," R' Chaim said, "we received sheds to live in, and only rentals at that... Today, every bachur who learns four or five years believes he has attained a level of worth higher than his father-in-law and therefore, he is entitled to an apartment." So seriously does he take this issue that, he exclaimed, "a fast day must be declared to stop" it.

Taking the Rabbis to Church: Learning a Lesson on Dealing with Abuse

WE MIGHT HOPE to be be frummer than the Pope, but we're certainly not infallible. And we might even stand to learn a thing or two from the European Catholic Church when it comes to soul searching.


As reports of sexual abuse by catholic clergy continue to sweep through Europe, so do the searches for answers. What is remarkable about these inquiries is their boldness—how deep they are willing to look for the causes of the abuses and how high up they are willing to look for who is responsible. 


A German investigation that has come increasingly close to the pope has resulted in a senior church official’s acknowledgment that an archdiocese there, while the pope was its archbishop, made “serious mistakes” in handling an abuse case. In Austria, two leading archbishops’ calls for an “unflinching examination” of the roots of the problem of priests abusing children have brought them to question the very institution of priest celibacy and the issue of celibate priests’ “personality development.” As the Archbishop of Vienna, Christoph Schönborn stressed in a recent article, it is time to acknowledge that this examination “requires a great deal of honesty, both on the part of the church and of society as a whole.”
 
COMPARE THAT response to the one offered by the Orthodox leadership, and it begins to seem like some confession might be in order. 


It has been nearly four months since Agudah's Chaim Dovid Zwiebel acknowledged to the press and before a packed convention hall that the way that sexual abuse is dealt with in the Charedi (so-called "Ultra-Orthodox") community must change. During that time, the lack of substantive action toward that end has all but confirmed what advocates had warned at the time: that those words were just that and nothing more.  


As Survivors for Justice's Ben Hirsch points out, even the government seems to be more concerned about abuse in our community than our own leaders. Even as Governor Patterson approved $500,000 for Orthodox abuse victims, our rabbonim have remained silent. 



IN AN AGE when our leaders are being bullied and mislead, standing up to a defensive and complacent public is a difficult task, especially when it pertains to such an ugly truth. But, those in the community who recognize the seriousness of this issue must demand more of our leaders, both our "sarei mei'ot," our shul rabbis and menahalim, and our "sarei alaphim," the gedolim and prominent leaders. 

Parents must ask their principals why they haven't adopted the Torah U'Mesorah guidelines for dealing with reports of abuse in schools. (Unless, you happen to be dealing with the ONE school that has actually adopted them. Of course, these guidelines are only a small start, but they are something!) Congregants must ask their rabbonim what their protocols are for reporting abuse to the police and for supporting those who come forth and their families. If they have none, then why not? 

We do not have to resort to angry finger-pointing. But we do, as individuals and as a community, have to make ourselves heard. We cannot continue throwing our hands up and hiding behind the gravity of the issue. Until the community and its leaders establish and uphold viable policies for dealing with the abuse in our midst, we will be left with a vacuum that will only continue to foster denial, secrecy, and the invalidation of reporters and victims.

IN HIS OPENING REMARKS at the Agudah convention, R' Zweibel quoted Rav Elya Svei as saying of our times, "The problems are becoming greater and greater, and the [number of] people to deal with the problems are becoming smaller and smaller." That might be true, but it can no longer be an excuse. It's time to confess that our community's handling of sexual abuse has been flawed and must be changed. Each of us, leaders and laymen alike, have to step up the efforts toward a safe and supported community. For the problems may be great now, but I shudder to think what they will become the day that we stop trying to fight them.

The Play's the Thing

Using improvisational theater to build confidence, communication, and adaptive skills to developmentally disabled adults at Ohel Bais Ezra dayhab.

New Research Looks At Beliefs About God's Influence In Everyday Life

Interesting finding reported in the March issue of the journal Sociology of Religion: being wealthy and well-educated does negatively influence a person's belief in divine intervention. However that is only true for individuals who are not strongly committed to religious practice. Among the strongly committed, wealth does not tend to detract from faith.

Must Narnia be Jewish?

Herschel Potter? If the notion sounds strange to you, you're not alone. In the inaugural issue of the Jewish Review of Books, Michael Weingrad's essay on Jewish fantasy novels asks the question, "Why is there no Jewish Narnia?" The question is an interesting one, and has certainly provoked its share of blogger buzz. A better question, though, might be, "Why should there be a Jewish Narnia?" Or, more precisely, does Narnia have something to offer Judaism, just the way it is?


Of course, good old Jewish pride gets tickled by the accomplishments—literary, or otherwise—of a fellow Member of the Tribe, and novel set in a  Jewish-themed context might be as satisfying as watching a movie set in one's home town. Yet Weingrad is not interested simply in a "Kosher-style" fantasy. His "deeper... question" is:

Why are there no works of modern fantasy that are profoundly Jewish in the way that, say, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is Christian? Why no Jewish Lewises, and why no Jewish Narnias?

His ultimate conclusion seems to be, as New York Times' Ross Douthat observes, "that modern fantasy depends on Christianity, or at least a Christian-pagan synthesis of some kind, for its forms, conventions, and traditions." Wiengrad resigns to the notion that "the genre [of fantasy] will remain irreducably Christian, and a truly Judaic fantasy would have to belong to, or invent, a different genre altogether." 


Let's assume that he is correct, that Judaism has nothing to offer fantasy. Must that mean, however, that fantasy has nothing to offer Judaism? I don't think so. 


Wiengrad thoughtfully describes the function of fantasy literature. He sums up one of the key components of fantasy:

The experience of wonder, of joy and delight on the part of the reader, has long been recognized as one of the defining characteristics of the genre. This wonder is connected with a world, with a place of magic, strangeness, danger, and charm; and whether it is called Perelandra, Earthsea, Amber, or Oz, this world must be a truly alien place. As Ursula K. Leguin says: “The point about Elfland is that you are not at home there. It’s not Poughkeepsie.”

Good fantasy opens readers' imaginations to the possibility that there might be more out there than what we encounter in our mundane lives and witness with our own surface vision.


However, when he reflects back on the place (or lack thereof) of that function in Judaism, Wiengrad is less on target. He asserts:

The Jewish difficulty with fantasy... has to do with the degree to which Judaism has banished the magical and mythological elements necessary for fantasy.To put it crudely, if Christianity is a fantasy religion, then Judaism is a science fiction religion. If the former is individualistic, magical, and salvationist, the latter is collective, technical, and this-worldly. Judaism’s divine drama is connected with a specific people in a specific place within a specific history. Its halakhic core is not, I think, convincingly represented in fantasy allegory. In its rabbinic elaboration, even the messianic idea is shorn of its mythic and apocalyptic potential. Whereas fantasy grows naturally out of Christian soil, Judaism’s more adamant separation from myth and magic render classic elements of the fantasy genre undeveloped or suspect in the Jewish imaginative tradition. 

In reality, though, the themes of the supernatural and salvation are central to both Judaism's historical-theological core and its phenomenological expectation for its practitioners. "Judaism’s divine drama" is indeed "connected with a specific people in a specific place within a specific history." However, that hardly diminished its power for the Jewish reader who is him- or  herself a member of that people. Moreover, the very function of that historical narrative is to ground the experience of future Jewish generations in the supernatural foundations of that nation (c.f. Nachmanides, Shemot 13:16). It was in that context that the first halakhic mandates were handed down at Sinai, and it is that very awareness that adherence to halakha is intended to foster.


The daily experience of the spiritual, observant Jew is, ideally, one in which the ordinary material world around him is infused with meaning and with sanctity that extends directly from the Divine narrative of his people. Too often, however, we come to experience Judaism—and pass it on to our children—as purely "collective, technical, and this-worldly," in a way that strips the essential pnimius, inner spirit, from the process. 


Fantasy's place in Jewish spiritual development is to nurture in readers—child and adult alike—the capacity for spiritual imagination and wonder. By "spiritual imagination" I mean the capacity to conceive of and recognize the existence of a Being outside of the realm of the immediate, physical world. When one actually encounters that Other, or a this-worldly phenomenon that suggests that Other's presence, one experiences wonder. Like a small child whose world is filled with wondrous discovery and magical possibility, a truly spiritual person experiences the wonder of the Divine all around him. To experience a sunset or a rainbow as "the Heavens recount[ing] the Glory of G-d" is all but impossible without the dual faculties of imagination and wonder.


Of course, reading literature based on Christian themes might pose halakhic questions that are beyond the present purview. But, especially in today's post-Potter era, there are plenty of works of "pure fantasy" that can serve the same aim. 


One who seeks to develop within himself and his children the gift of sincere, deep ruchnius, spirituality—one that inspires wholehearted devotion to Torah and mitzvos and a genuine awareness of the presence of G-d—must  address the emotional and cognitive proficiencies that underly it. Reading Harry Potter is hardly an unpleasant way to do so.