Musings from Self-Isolation-Day 13

Day 13

Our closest friends have been holding a weekly Zoom get together the last two Saturdays. It has been a way to keep in touch, share our stories, and to see each other's faces. It can be a bit of a messy free-for-all when everybody is unmuted but our normal interactions in real life can also be a bit of a messy free-for-all when everybody is unmuted. It's who we are and I love every single one of these wackos, idiosyncrasies and all. I hope that they can say the same about me. It has been a lovely break from the monotony to see them and virtually hug them.

We have been sharing self-isolating distractions like Netflix viewings and book suggestions. I am grateful for whatever everybody is reading or watching but here's the thing, I am finding sustained levels of concentration difficult in the CoVid-19 world. I have been listening to a book on Audible while exercising but the truth is that a book that in normal times should have taken a few days to read is taking me two weeks. And don't even ask me to read anything visually that requires the sit-power of longer than the average television commercial. I simply don't have the ability right now. Even these posts are "write and pace" ordeals. Basically, I write three words and then pace for three minutes. It is a combined mental and physical workout.

I wondered if anybody else was struggling with concentration issues. I am seriously impressed by those out there who are able to hunker down and write the "Great Canadian Novel" right now with their hours of free time, but I am wrestling to achieve even five minutes of sustained attentiveness. I have repeatedly read about how Shakespeare wrote King Lear during the quarantine of London during the Black Plague and I honestly wonder about his mental health during that time. I mean, have any of you seriously read King Lear?  It's the story of a man slowly descending into madness. Shakespeare had to have been writing his now-considered masterpiece as a self-isolating journal. Of this, I am certain.

Some random thoughts.

As I begin to source and put together our family's virtual Passover seder for Zoom, I am realizing that the average screen attentiveness quota is about thirty minutes. I am looking for any seder-relevant readings that use these odds times and ties it to a section of the seder. Handwashing is a perfect example. The funnier the better. Please send them my way. You can post links in the comment section here or on my Facebook post.

For my friends who watched our synagogue's group Havdallah and music share last evening, I want it understood that I was NOT the anonymous highest bidder of the toilet paper with Agent Orange's face embossed on it. I know many of you thought it was me and, believe me, I wanted to buy it. I had my fingers on the chat to do it and was all ready to type, but The Husband stopped me. I wanted to use it to post "unusual" photos with it. I had some interesting ideas but, alas...somebody else will have to keep you all entertained.

I have noticed something really odd about the interactions on these posts. It seems that the more I swear like a sailor on leave, the more people seem to read. The kinder, gentler version of Dawn seems to drive traffic down. What is up, people? Do I have to cuss you all out for you to read? Maybe if I call you all a bunch of...nope not today.

Today's music break is an apology from yesterday's music break. A dear friend pointed out that given my post yesterday about Proverbs and our discussion during Shabbat morning Torah study, I really should have posted the Indigo Girls classic song, Strange Fire. It was my self-isolation brain that really fucked that up and he was correct, I should have, so I am today.




Wash your hands. Don't touch your face. Be kind. Stay healthy.

Passover and Food Choices

I sometimes wonder if social media was created for the expressed purpose of sharing food porn.

I am as far from a foodie as one can get. There are just too many comestibles out there that disrupt my delicately balanced digestive system or those to which I might have a moral objection. I rarely eat for sheer pleasure, but rather for nourishment, nutrition, and basic preference, (Hello, vegetarian sushi!) but I plead guilty to the online crime of occasionally sharing delectable images to Facebook, Instagram, and the like. When I do photograph my creations, it is mostly out of the sheer amazement that I was able to create anything that even closely mimics the recipe. (I am not in the least bit artistic, so any food that doesn't resemble vegetarian chili is a win.) So, sue me. Every so often I like to show off my rather limited culinary prowess.

At this time of year, it is almost impossible to avoid surfing food porn. The coming of the Passover holiday will do that to even the most lapsed of Jews. I cannot think of another observance that puts us more in touch with our inner gourmand and our continuing culinary legacy than does Pesach. (Unless of course we count the pure asceticism of Yom Kippur and that holiday makes us think less about food and more about hunger.) At Pesach, we become positively intransigent when it comes to preparations and menu planning. Favoured and cherished recipes, that still carry the stains of previous years' cooking, are dragged off the shelves. Family discussions about what dishes will or won't be served at the seder often take on greater significance and importance than planning for the event itself. Recipe sharing becomes almost cutthroat, and all of this takes place before even considering issues like kitniyot, vegetarianism, ethical eating, or nutrition. But, I have begun to wonder if we have become far too focused on the food and far less on what the food represents. In our zealousness to protect our food heritage, have we lost the simplicity to maintain our legacy?

Yes, we all know about the matzah and the maror and the significance of the seder plate. But what about the actual sitting down and the sharing of our birthright and our history? Do we really require an almost gluttonous experience to achieve this most important of Pesach lessons? And what does this type of overindulgence say about us as a people?

There is no question that food stimulates memory and that our memories are sensory. Many cannot even conceive of a holiday observance without Bubby's famous fish or Aunt Ida's chicken soup. The idea of introducing the perfectly legitimate and halachically-acceptable  rice, corn, and beans into Pesach ritual is anathema for some because it rubs against the grain of family history. I understand these positions. It is difficult to let go of things that we believe have become part of our ancestral fabric. But for me, it is more important to challenge and question past norms in order to build a Judaism that remains relevant for me in the here and now, and ethical, healthy, moderate, and sustainable eating is a huge part of that.

When I sit down to my seders this week, I want and will attempt to achieve a simple balance in my food choices. I don't want to remove the memories of my ancestors, but rather to build on them with care and consideration. I don't seek to redefine the holiday, but rather to adapt it to my twenty-first-century ideals of helping the planet and her creatures. When my Jewish heritage and beliefs easily coexist with my secular ones, Judaism becomes starkly relevant for a new age and only then will I be comfortable with the legacy that I am leaving for the next generation. We need for Pesach to be far more than "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat." 

This year, the first seder coincides fortuitously with Earth Day. The Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life created a few lovely readings that we can and should share at our tables. Here is one that particularly resonated with me.

This is the Lechem Oni, Simple Bread, that our ancestors ate when they were slaves in Mitzrayim. Let all who are hungry come and eat. Let all who are in need celebrate Pesach with us. This year, we are still alienated from the land and its living communities. Next year may we be more connected to our people’s homeland, Israel, and to the natural world that is homeland to us all. This year, we are still slaves, tied to materialistic and destructive consumption patterns. Next year, may we and all the peoples of the earth be redeemed by having enough to satisfy our needs without consuming beyond what the earth can sustain.

Chag Sameach.

The Ghosts of Pesachs Past

As we were setting up for tonight's seder at Sister/Cousin's home yesterday, The Little Bro and I found ourselves discussing seders past.

The sederim of my youth were anything but conventional. They were big, loud, brash, musical, and creative. (Actually...things haven't changed all that much.) We often used off-print haggadot (we still do), had several musical instruments at the table (we still do), and it wasn't unusual for a new experience or visitor to make an appearance.

My brother and I spent part of yesterday reminiscing about the time that our uncle decided to introduce kinetic energy to the seder table and how we kids couldn't help but foil his best-laid plans with our own brand of chicanery.  Or about the time that he read everybody's aura with a crystal. There was the year that he invited an odd "homeless-looking" (we never really did discovered his name or story) gentleman to join us. The chap ate like he hadn't in a month, but was so grateful and so polite that we all felt as though we had fulfilled the mitzvah of welcoming the stranger.

Then there was the time that I insisted that we place an orange on the seder plate and nearly set off WWIII. The political discussions that followed were forever banned from the seder table by my mother. There was the year after Other Father's dad passed away that we taught all of the kids how to sing Chad Gadya in Yiddish the way he always did as a surprise. We gathered them all around him and they just let it go. Other Father was so moved he could barely get through the first verse.

Our seders have grown so large that with next generations and significant others added in, we have had to find suitable locales to host us all. We have used condo party rooms and synagogue multi-purpose areas. We have developed seating charts and menu lists. We have measured space down to the last centimetre and we have detailed the event as carefully as any party planner. (A special shout-out for this stuff has to go out to my Little Bro's Yin to his Yang. She is unbelievable.) It isn't always easy and we don't all agree, (OY!!) but every year we seem to make it work.

I think that the reason that the two of us got a bit nostalgic yesterday and certainly a bit misty, was in part because of those who will not be with us this year. Some because it is the yearly trade off with other sides of family; some because of university exams; some unfortunately because of illness; and some because......

There is a great deal of complaining that goes with Pesach. It is so much work. It is so much cooking. It is so much cleaning. It is so much constipation. All of it true. But as my conversation with my brother reminded me yesterday, it is really all about the people. Those that are here and those that will always be here. They are all in my heart and soul this year and every year.

May your Pesach sederim be lovely, meaningful, fun, and filled with the stuff that makes memories.

To Bean or Not to Bean? Rice is the Question.

I promised you all that I would engage in a post about the consumption of kitniyot before the Pesach holiday begins tomorrow evening. Given the fact that I am consumed with cooking and other seder preparations, I will attempt to do this with as much brevity as I can possibly muster. The eating of kitniyot has become one of the most polarizing issues surrounding the celebration of Pesach. It is so contentious in fact, that most Jews cannot even agree on an appropriate translation or definition of the actual word. From Rabbi Richard J. Israel:

In general, kitniot are those small (kitniot - from katan) seeds or beans which look a little like grains and which need to be cooked to be eaten. Though frequently translated as legumes, aside from peas and peanuts, they are NOT legumes. And some legumes, like alfalfa leaves which can be used for salad, ARE NOT kitniot. Legumes are plants whose root nodules make nitrogen. Since "teensy-weensies" or "tinies" are not translations that are very likely to make it into ordinary English parlance, the most appropriate translation for kitniot, it seems to me, is kitniot.

At Pesach, all Jews are to refrain from the eating of chametz, (leaven) and the Torah is quite explicit as to which grains are to be included in this category. From the Central Conference of American Rabbis (CCAR):

"It is a mitzvah to abstain from eating leaven (Chametz) during the entire seven days of Pesach."[2] By "chametz", the tradition means those grains from which matzah may be baked: wheat, barley, oats, rye, and spelt.[3] No other foodstuffs are regarded as chametz.

It has also become customary for Ashkenazi Jews to adhere to a prohibition on rice, corn, seeds and legumes in a somewhat misguided attempt (my opinion) to expand the observance of the festival and build fences around the Torah to impose safeguards for the public for their own chametz protection. In other words, let's assume that the people are so stupid as to not know what they are or are not eating, that they require salvation from the evil consumption. In a word, horseshit. More from Rabbi Israel: 

By the 18th century a halachist like the Korban Nathaniel (you have never heard of him) writes that there is no need to outlaw these cooked products just because they may appear similar to other cooked products which are actually chametz. One may, for example, use flour made from lentils, because it cannot become chametz, and there is no need to worry that people will confuse it with other flour which is really chametz. However, Ashkenazic (though not Sephardic) Jews have accepted a great stringency regarding these products, despite the fact that they are not chametz, and despite the permissibility of these items documented by earlier sources. The reason for the prohibition is based on a gezeirah, a preventive decree, from Ashkenazic rabbinical authorities.

The familiar and relatively late explanation for this gezeirah goes exactly contrary to what the Korban Nathaniel says. The gezeirah was justified on the grounds that people can too easily confuse a product cooked with kitniyot, with a similar product cooked with one of the five grains, and if the kitniyot product is allowed, one may come to allow a grain product, which is really chametz, as well. Moreover, kitniyot are similar to the five grains in other ways too, including the fact that some people make bread out of kitniyot as they do from the five grains, and people who are not knowledgeable may end up making a mistake and eat real chametz.

The prohibition on kitnityot runs contrary to the opinions of every single Talmudic and Mishnaic sage with the exception of one, (R. Yochanan be Nuri, Pesahim 35a) and is in direct contradiction to the decision in the Babylonian Talmud. (Pesahim 114b) This responsa is from the Conservative rabbinate in Israel. 

This custom is mentioned for the first time in France and Provence in the beginning of the thirteenth century by R. Asher of Lunel, R. Samuel of Falaise, and R. Peretz of Corbeil - from there it spread to various countries and the list of prohibited foods continued to expand. Nevertheless, the reason for the custom was unknown and as a result many sages invented at least eleven different explanations for the custom. As a result, R. Samuel of Falaise, one of the first to mention it, referred to it as a "mistaken custom" and R. Yerucham called it a "foolish custom".

This craziness has been perpetuated for centuries and has continued to this day. The reason that my Ashkenazi relatives in Poland ate potatoes instead of corn or rice at Pesach, is simply because of supply. Whoever heard of sushi in the shtetl? Rice and corn are foods that were unknown to my ancestors in the part of the world that they resided. When they did come in contact with these foreign substances, their rebbes reflexively banned them from consumption at Pesach as much out of ignorance as anything thing else. In my neighbourhood, which I have lovingly referred to as the "North Jewish Ghetto", the cost of observing the holiday in a kitniyot-free environment has become astronomical. It is not unheard of nor is it unusual to hear stories of families spending upwards of $2000.00 on Pesach preparations. The purchasing of products like kosher for Pesach Coke and ketchup (the high fructose corn syrup in these products has labelled them kitniyot!) has become a strange game of "Keeping as Kosher as the Steinbergs". There was even a midnight madness sale at our resident grocery store this past Saturday evening. The image of observant men and women fighting over the last box of matzah meal is one to behold. Once again from the Conservative responsa in Israel: 

Therefore, the main halakhic question in this case is whether it is permissible to do away with a mistaken or foolish custom. Many rabbinic authorities have ruled that it is permitted (and perhaps even obligatory) to do away with this type of "foolish custom" (R. Abin in Yerushalmi Pesahim, Maimonides, the Rosh, the Ribash, and many others). Furthermore, there are many good reasons to do away with this "foolish custom": a) It detracts from the joy of the holiday by limiting the number of permitted foods; b) It causes exorbitant price rises, which result in "major financial loss" and, as is well known, "the Torah takes pity on the people of Israel's money"; c) It emphasizes the insignificant (legumes) and ignores the significant (hametz, which is forbidden from the five kinds of grain); d) It causes people to scoff at the commandments in general and at the prohibition of hametz in particular - if this custom has no purpose and is observed, then there is no reason to observe other commandments; e) Finally, it causes unnecessary divisions between Israel's different ethnic groups. On the other hand, there is only one reason to observe this custom: the desire to preserve an old custom. Obviously, this desire does not override all that was mentioned above. Therefore, both Ashkenazim and Sephardim are permitted to eat legumes and rice on Pesah without fear of transgressing any prohibition.

It seems to me that the only reason to continue the practice of forbidding the consumption of kitniyot is tradition; Bubby didn't eat corn so we don't eat corn, and while I certainly think that this should always be a matter of personal conviction, I cannot abide. I need to feel that religious practice has some basis in logic and law in order for it to remain a religious practice in my world. The spirit and the celebration of Pesach is enhanced and maintained by the prohibition of the chametz. Anything else must be defined, in my opinion, as a religious fiction and cannot be taken seriously. My Passover includes rice and corn. I will give the final word to the CCAR. 

We do not accept the orthodox argument that a customary observance, once widely adopted, can never be annulled. This notion is questionable, in general, as a matter of halakhah,[19] especially when the observance is based upon a mistaken interpretation of the law.[20] In our specific case, moreover, there is absolutely no evidence that this customary prohibition was ever ratified by rabbinic decree or accepted as binding in the form of a vow. Had a decree or a vow existed, after all, those authorities who criticized the practice down to the eighteenth century would never have spoken so bluntly against it. We think, rather, that some rabbis resort to these arguments in order to support practices and customs whose original purpose--if there ever was a legitimate original purpose--no longer holds. When a religious practice has outlived its purpose, when its retention is perceived by the community as unnecessary and burdensome, Reform Judaism affirms the right of the observant community to alter or annul that practice in favor of a new standard which better expresses our understanding of Torah and tradition and the religious sensibilities of our age.

Chag Sameach to all observe and may your time with family and friends be sweet and peaceful.

Pesach: Spiritually Uplifting or Soul Crushing? Discuss!

Well folks, it's that time of year yet again. It is the time when the thoughts of all good Jews turn to the hellish nightmare of Passover preparations. (This is a warning to my friends of persuasions other than those of the "tribe" that I will henceforth be referring to Passover by its Hebrew name of Pesach. It is just something that I am far more comfortable with!) It is a time of cleaning, of cooking, of detailed menu preparation, of extreme grocery shopping, of baking with ingredients so foreign sounding and tasting that one cannot help but wonder if the end result will spew some new incarnation of cardboard, and of course the endless patter of family dynamics.  Pesach in a word, is work. A lot of work. A shitload of work. Work that is seemingly endless and most often expected, yet wholly under-appreciated. Ask anybody who is hosting a seder or even contributing to one, how they are planning to spend the next week, and the answer will surely be cooking and cleaning. Pesach is an anal-retentive individual's wet-dream, as the details are so intricate and the juggling so precise as to demand total concentration and full attention. Is this what The Divine One and Moses really had in mind when they led our people our from Egypt?

I find it hard to imagine that God and Moses really cared if we drank the Kosher for Pesach Diet Coke or the everyday regular stuff. I find it impossible to believe that Moses, or even Mrs. Moses for that matter, (her name was Zipporah-just in case you thought that my Bible skills were left wanting!!) cared what brisket recipe we used or if Aunty "Golda" will be offended because we are letting Aunty "Basha" make the fish this year. Does anybody honestly believe that our ancestors intended for us to spend thousands of dollars "koshering" our home for the holiday, simply because some maven somewhere determined that this brand of matzah was the "only" brand of matzah, or that the Israeli matzah meal (which is many dollars cheaper!) is not kosher enough? I cannot fathom that my foremothers and forefathers even knew what rice and corn were, (not a lot of that stuff hanging around in the desert!) let alone consider their prohibition. (The whole issue of the kitniyot is a discussion that I plan to take up before the start of this year's holiday, so please check back.)

No, Pesach is not about all of that stuff, at least it shouldn't be. Pesach is a spiritual and a physical reawakening. We as Jews need to look at Pesach as a basic evocation of why we are still here, what we as a people have been through and what we need to achieve in order to move forward. We need to remember what the purpose of the seder is (to teach our children and remind ourselves of our history) and not to see how fast Uncle Moishey can get through it so that we can finally eat. We need to look at the Haggadah as a living and breathing document that includes all and requires revision on a yearly basis (within its set framework of course!) in order to incorporate the every changing circumstances in which we find ourselves. We shouldn't be looking for ways to "cheat" the system by buying into the "matzah bagel" mentality, but rather taking the time and energy to understand why it is we do what we do. Pesach isn't about deprivation, it is about renewal. It isn't about denial, it is about affirmation. It isn't supposed to be stomach churning, ulcer inducing, or soul crushing. It is supposed to be spiritually uplifting. Let's all try and remember that as we enter into our preparations this weekend.  

Chag Sameach!

(By the way-please follow me on twitter! @dawnbe1229)

The Passover Seder Symbols Song

A little something to get us into the Pesach planning mood. Enjoy!