Damn, I’ve been so busy moving across the country, getting my child into school and writing this blog, I forgot to join a temple!
No worries, according to NoMembershipRequired.com. Check out this cute short film about why not paying dues isn’t an an excuse for not showing up for shofar.
Ynetnews.com has bad news for Orthodox fans of Matisyahu living in the land of Oz:
He’s been billed as the world’s first ultra-Orthodox reggae star, but there will be no religious faces in the crowd when Matisyahu tours Australia for the first time next month.
The 27-year-old Chassidic Jew from New York is scheduled to play shows during the Three Weeks, the period between Tammuz 17 and Tisha b’Av when attending concerts is expressly forbidden.
I’m definitely not Orthodox but I still feel for those fans who, out of their devotion for their faith, will miss out on live versions of “Youth” and “King without a Crown” (hear ’em both on MySpace). That concert promoter must have had his/her head in the sand or stuck in the pouch of a Kangaroo for booking these shows at these inappropriate dates. Plus, Matisyahu’s booking agent needs to consult a Rabbi for these sort of things, for the sake of the fans of course!
Cool news, NASA is actually accommodating Jewish Astronauts:
NASA is seeking to consult rabbis regarding the necessary arrangements and ways to uphold Torah commandments in space. Among other things, there is a need to determine at every stage in the space flight the position of Jerusalem in relation to the space station, so that astronauts know which was to turn when praying.
Until the Israeli Space Agency can launch its own astronauts we’ll have to rely on NASA’s efforts to adapt it’s shuttles and space stations for the needs of current and future “Jews in Space” (like Mel Brooks in Spaceballs). What would that freeze-dried Kosher space food taste like?
I also wonder, when humans finally reach other star systems, how will we stay synchronized with the Hebrew Calendar without the Sun or the moon? (Drop some ideas in the comments section!)
For your reading pleasure:
I’m off to write to Subway headquarters about opening up a kosher Subway near my casa!
It’s Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israeli Indepence Day. As my favorite JTA columnist Leslie Susser points out, she’s come a long way, baby, in terms of economic growth and diplomatic stability, but after 58 years Israel is still dealing with the same issues it did as a toddler: “a lack of universal recognition, ongoing terrorism and the threat of physical destruction.” Check his analysis here. (Susser is most awesome at making sense of statistics and explaining the complexities of the ever-shifting Israeli government his weekly column helps us slow learners keep up with the grown-ups at cocktail parties.)
According to MyJewishLearning.com, “there is not yet an accepted ‘tradition’ of how to celebrate this holiday, and only time will tell whether certain customs, foods, prayers, and melodies will be linked in the Jewish mind with this holiday, as with holidays that emerged many centuries before Yom Ha’atzmaut.”
Fantastic! That means that unlike most Jewish holidays and their specific edicts on what to eat and what to say, you can’t go wrong today! My plans are to eat falafel naked and sing “Hatikvah” accompanied by African drumming. How’s by you?
It’s the last day of Passover and I don’t want to smell a piece of matzah until next spring. But what to do with the leftover box and a half of staleness? Some ideas:
*Insulate the crawlspace
*Moisten and mix with avocado for a pore-toning facial
*Under the guise of “feeding the ducks up at the lake,” launch a ninja-style attempt to decapitate the goose that snapped at me last week
*Throw a Jewish hoedown and substitute ground matzah for sawdust
*Market a brand of over-priced bio-degradable kitty litter
I feel like I’ve been on the Jewish Atkins diet six more hours and the Yenta family will be scarfing on the biggest, doughiest pizza we can find.
We’ll probably be joined by many others with the munchies though for different reasons than eight days of carb denial:
4/20 is widely-celebrated holiday here in Northern California for its marijuana-related significance, and there are a lotta stoners in the San Francisco Bay Area. Go figure.
(If you would like further clarification on the concept of 4:20, check out the High Times’ movie, man.)
Strangely, the Semitic stoners of Jewish High has nothing to say about the double holiday, but they’re probably all out enjoying their own, uh, pizza.
Hope the second seder hasn’t busted anyone’s gut.
It’s a bizzy day at the Yenta house, what with carb-packing with errant chametz (I’ve eaten half a box of Fig Newtons, a bagel and a leftover health-food pop-tart from my son’s lunchbox in the last half hour) and readying the family to make the shlep south for seder. (Next year at my house, bubbie!)
In the meantime, I promise you will love Michael Rubiner’s Two-Minute Haggadah, courtesy of Slate.com (hat tip to Joe at j.):
Opening prayers:
Thanks, God, for creating wine. (Drink wine.)
Thanks for creating produce. (Eat parsley.)
Overview: Once we were slaves in Egypt. Now we’re free. That’s why we’re doing this.
Four questions:
1. What’s up with the matzoh?
2. What’s the deal with horseradish?
3. What’s with the dipping of the herbs?
4. What’s this whole slouching at the table business?
Answers:
1. When we left Egypt, we were in a hurry. There was no time for making decent bread.
2. Life was bitter, like horseradish.
3. It’s called symbolism.
4. Free people get to slouch.
A funny story: Once, these five rabbis talked all night, then it was morning. (Heat soup now.)
The four kinds of children and how to deal with them:
Wise childexplain Passover.
Simple childexplain Passover slowly.
Silent childexplain Passover loudly.
Wicked childbrowbeat in front of the relatives.
Speaking of children: We hid some matzoh. Whoever finds it gets five bucks.
The story of Passover: It’s a long time ago. We’re slaves in Egypt. Pharaoh is a nightmare. We cry out for help. God brings plagues upon the Egyptians. We escape, bake some matzoh. God parts the Red Sea. We make it through; the Egyptians aren’t so lucky. We wander 40 years in the desert, eat manna, get the Torah, wind up in Israel, get a new temple, enjoy several years without being persecuted again. (Let brisket cool now.)
The 10 Plagues: Blood, Frogs, Liceyou name it.
The singing of “Dayenu”:
If God had gotten us out of Egypt and not punished our enemies, it would’ve been enough. If he’d punished our enemies and not parted the Red Sea, if would’ve been enough.
If he’d parted the Red Sea(Remove gefilte fish from refrigerator now.)
Eat matzoh. Drink more wine. Slouch.
Thanks again, God, for everything.
SERVE MEAL.
Michael Rubiner writes for movies and television. His work has appeared in many publications, including The New Yorker, the New York Times, and Rolling Stone.
The t-shirt of the week isn’t just a schmatte, it’s spring cleaning gone crazy.
I may have mentioned that housekeeping is not one of the Yenta’s strongest attributes (see “Mold, Diarrhea and Escargot,”) so the Passover custom of cleaning out one’s cupboards and “selling” all the leavened items for safekeeping for the duration of the holiday would never be listed as one of my favorite chores.
Even so, I feel obligated, even though I’d never heard of this tradition until a few years ago. Though my mother never had so much as a bialy in the house during Pesach, I don’t recall anyone cleaning out the pantry (I’m fairly sure the same box of Grape Nuts has been there since I was 12.) Neither the congregation I grew up in nor the one I belong to now ever mentioned this crumb hunting frenzy, so either I haven’t been paying attention (a veritable possibility the minute someone mentions “cleaning” I start to drift) or the Reform Jewish world has abandoned this ritual.
So, as usual, I’m making it up as I go along. Aish.com’s Passover site has been very helpful, of course, but I’m certain the neighbor I asked to take our boxes of food for a week is going to feed the Ritz crackers to her dog.
But at least I know I’m not alone: Even Modern Jewish Mom, who’s obviously seasoned in the art of a chametz-free home, feels the pressure.
Guess it’s just a crummy part of being a Jewish mother. (Ba-dump bump.)
From News24.com:
In a tough break for the children of Orthodox Jewish families, a former grand rabbi of Israel has urged parents to amputate their dolls to avoid the perils of idolatry.
Basing the move on a Biblical ban on the possession of idols, Mordechai Eliyahu, a Sephardic rabbi, broadcast his edict on a religious radio station calling for an arm or a leg to be dismembered. In the case of a teddy bear or other stuffed animals, the children will see their beloved toys lose an ear or an eye instead.
“It is very important that these toys do not remain intact so as to remove the element of idolatry,” said Eliyahu.
Very cruel, rabbi. But this may be the excuse I’ve been seeking to succumb to my urges to pop each and every limb off the Barbie dolls strewn across the floor of my children’s room. Or maybe stab the Cabbage Patch Doll in the eye with a fork in the name of God.
Now that I’m really thinking here, I could void my home of hundreds of blank-stared Beanie Babies by putting them in a giant pillowcase and drowing them in the bathtub.
“No more stuffed animal worship!” I would scream to my sobbing children in my best Joan Crawford voice. “Go run with scissors!”
*Sigh.* I don’t actually have the heart to seize this opportunity. I still have a stuffed bunny given to me by my shaygetz high school boyfriend though it’s missing an arm and has a cigarette burn near its crotch, which the rabbi might approve of. I’m not even punk rock enough to post a photo of a really maimed doll; the Google results were just too scary.