Character

I dreamed of Alan and Bonnie last night. Bonnie was explaining to me how Alan cares the way he does. Many times, I've wished I could apprentice with Alan, learning his skill and compassion in comforting mourners and respecting the departed. However, I've always know that these abilities come from within him and cannot be taught. It's a matter of character and perhaps also of upbringing. Bonnie's heart and brain work together, too. I know no one else like them and I wish I could be like them.

No Revelation Without Interpretation

I knew that I couldn't have been the first to notice! And, in fact, not only modern feminists, but also the Rabbis recognized that Moses interpreted God's words and, in doing so, seems to have changed their meaning. (Maybe that's the point.)

And HaShem said to Moses, "Go to the people and warn them to stay pure today and tomorrow. Let them wash their clothes. Let them be ready for the third day; for on the third day HaShem will come down, in the sight of all the people, on Mount Sinai. You shall set bounds for the people round about... When the ram's horn sounds a long blast, they may go up on the mountain."

Moses came down from the mountain to the people and warned the people to stay pure... And he said to the people, "Be ready for the third day: you should not go near a woman."

The Rabbis wanted to clarify that both men and women were participants in theophany and they interpreted the phrases, "Thus shall you say to the house of Jacob and declare to the children of Israel," to refer respectively to the men and the women."

Rashi interpreted Moses's instructions as way to ensure that women could be present. Since semen loses its purported ritual impurity after three days, if men stayed away from women, then women could be ritually pure during revelation.

What should we think of Moses changing the words of the divine command?

Judith Plaskow writes,

"Several lessons can be drawn from this. One is the inseparability of revelation and interpretation. There is no revelation without interpretation; the foundational experience of revelation also involves a crucial act of interpretation. Second, we learn that the process of interpretation is ongoing. What Moses does, the Rabbis in this case seek to undo. While they reiterate and reinforce the exclusion of women in many contexts, they mitigate it in others. Third, insofar as the task of interpretation is continuing, it now lies with us. If women's absence from Sinai is unthinkable to the Rabbis-- despite the fact that they repeatedly reenact that absence in their own work-- how much more must it be unthinkable to women and men today who function in communities in which women are full Jews? We have the privilege and the burden of recovering the divine words reverberating behind the silences in the text, recreating women's understandings of revelation throughout Jewish history." (The Torah, A Women's Commentary)

It's our privilege and responsibility to interpret Torah and we do so within a 4,000 year old tradition.

Maale Adumim

I've spent almost a week in a town over the Green Line called Maale Adumim. It's a city really, but so much quieter and cleaner than Jerusalem, with many more trees and views of undeveloped valleys and of Jerusalem. The air is clean and there's so little traffic that you can hear the birds sing. I felt my heart open up the first time I came here to visit with Maya and Ivan.

The commute via bus and train to Jerusalem is inconvenient, but seeing bare earth rejuvenates my soul, which I did not even realize needed rejuvenating.

The commute has its up side. One day, when traffic was particularly bad and I was beginning to be annoyed, the bus crested a hill and a view of the Old City appeared before us. Amazing!

Last week, Maya and Ivan helped me schlep my three small bags and drum on public transport and then Ivan helped me track down the home I'd be staying in. (Never would have found it without him!) Then we walked to their home. I spent some time with them before taking a short walk, buying a few groceries at a tiny, Ethiopian makolet, and enjoying the view of a forested valley in front of Dennis's and Batyah's home.

I should have taken pictures, but I was so caught up in looking that it never occurred to me.

Friday was great! I've been wondering about the rhythm of the week here. In the States, Shabbat begins right at the end of the work week, so you have to spend a little time every day preparing for Shabbat, and then, after enjoying Shabbat, you have Sunday to either rest some more or run errands. Here it often feels that we don't have a weekend at all. You spend Friday morning rushing to do errands or see sites before everything shuts down in the early afternoon.

I think this past Friday are what Fridays in Israel are supposed to feel like, a gentle movement toward Shabbat. I took a very early morning walk, then went back to bed, did my laundry, and helped a tiny bit with Shabbos cleaning. The art museum was closed and so was the archaeological site, so then I walked past stunning views to the kanyon (K.N.H. - shoresh for buying) and wrote a little bit.

Maya had started a new job my first day there and was also very, very sick, so I hadn't see much of her, which was one of the main reasons I came out here for the week. On Friday, she dragged herself out to spend time with me. We sat on the grass near some olive trees in front of the town's knesset, enjoying the warm sun watching a black and tan raven and talking about Tolkien and aliyah. Maya really should have been in bed resting, but I was so glad we had that time together.

She took me to a grocery store and showed me how to "rent" a shopping cart. I  managed some short, Hebrew conversations in the grocery store (Yes, I can save your place... Sorry, sir, there's one person ahead of you...) before heading back to Dennis's and Batyah's home.  I admired the view, their son showed me how to set a table, and then I began reading the weekly parasha.

To my surprise, Dennis asked if I'd like to walk to shul with him. It was kind of him, but I didn't want to sit alone in the girl's section and try to remember my way around the prayer book, so I stayed to finish reading the parasha and to light candles with Batyah.

Just three months of intensive Hebrew has transformed how I read the parasha! I could locate words and phrases more easily, knew what to look up, and wondered at past tense verbs that shouldn't have been in the past tense. It was the most fun I've ever had reading the parasha alone. Just think what a few more years of study could do for me!

I had interacted with Dennis and his children just a little and had barely seen Batyah before the weekend, so I wondered what Shabbat dinner would be like. Fabulous! Dutch melodies are different, but they asked me what my favorite song was and Dennis (for obvious reasons) knew the Sephardic tune that I love. And discussion of the parasha was relaxed and inquisitive. Dennis also explained the "tense changing vav" to me.

Woke early again, Shabbat morning. The sun was warm and I listened to birds singing and gazed at the trees. This is the kind of place I need to live in. I feel human again.

My day was very Jewish, if unobservant. It was Tisha B'av and I listened to an online meditation and a lecture by Jill Hammer about the evolution of Tisha B'av observance. Then I walked some more and took a Shabbos nap. I was reading when Batyah invited me to join them for havdallah. How nice of them! It's one of my favorite rituals.

My time here was wonderful, but I won't stay any longer. The local aliyah rep would help me find an apartment in Maale Adumim, but it's not the town for me. I think I'd be too alone. Dennis doesn't think a single woman could find community. I don't think I'd see much of Ivan and Maya, and besides, they will be moving away at the end of the summer. It's a shame, because I like Maale Adumim so much more than Jerusalem.)

Shabbos in Jerusalem

Today was my 100th day in Israel and I finally had an invitation to Shabbos dinner in someone's home.

Before sunset, I walked to the Old City and then through magical seeming alleys, past ornate doors and an unexpected orange tree heavy with fruit. Their home is from the Crusader Period and, when Chaya had shown me how to get there earlier in the week, she described how she had remodeled it. She is quite brilliant.

Chaya and Roni were warm and welcoming. Chaya and I lit candles and chatted while Roni and their son went to shul to daven. It was so pleasant to spend time with her, discuss Jewish things, admire her art, and explore their library. A friend of theirs stopped by with two identical books for them to study. I found it ironic that a man who davens in a shul with a mehitza was promoting a book describing why women are more spiritual than men.

A brother and sister, a Chabad rabbi, and another very young man joined us for dinner. Four different men chanted kiddush; I was pleased to be included in Roni's, almost as if I were family. Chaya had prepared an enormous amount of food and Roni had purchased many salads to be served before the main course. Everything was delicious and Torah was spoken at the table. I had just read a biography of Maimonides, so I was able to contribute a tiny bit to the discussion of the Karaites.

Roni and Chaya are both gracious hosts and the evening was absolutely traditional, right down to determining which men would be chanting kiddush for which women and children. I didn't notice when their son slipped away quietly after he was done eating; it's good that he wasn't forced stay with the adults. The other woman at the table had just arrived in Israel and was interested in organic cooking and gardening. We didn't speak to each other much during the meal because her brother and the Chabad rabbi had a lot to say, and later she curled up on a bean bag chair and went to sleep.

Near the end of the evening, I wanted to say something about Hebrew and how it seems that words of Torah we learn have more impact and stay with us better than much of what we learn in ulpan. Each man interrupted. No important discussion had been lost, but I was reminded of how much more respectfully men treat women in Reform settings. (Once, when I was very young, I was listening to a history professor and a WW2 veteran talking at a meal during a temple retreat and I joined in the conversation. Horrified at my audacity, I was amazed that they listened respectfully and responded to what I said even though each knew far more about the topic that I did.)

There was dessert and benching and more graciousness from Chaya and Roni. It was a wonderful evening. Roni wanted to make sure I found my way back, but the very young man was clearly reluctant to walk to Jaffa Gate with me, so I assured Roni that I knew my way.

I'm reading the parasha again, but I'm sure I'll fall asleep soon and sleep soundly.