Monday, May 31, 2010

What to make of Israeli raid in the Mediterranean?

A flotilla attempting to bring aid (food, etc.) to Gaza was intercepted by Israeli military forces and nine pro-Palestinian activists (mostly Turks) were killed. (Read the New York Times article here.) Apparently, Israel warned the flotilla that they would be intercepted if they continued - the harbor has been closed since a 2007 blockade enacted by Israel. But for those interested in keeping the Palestinian side of this struggle alive on the world stage, doesn't it make sense that the flotilla would push ahead, hoping to force Israel's hand one way or another?

In my mind, there seem to have been three options for the flotilla: (1) keep going, hoping that Israel would resist taking military action and that the flotilla would safely dock, thereby ending the blockade; (2) keep going, knowing that if Israel DID take military action, they would face international scrutiny; or (3) attempt to get aid to Palestinians through Israel-approved channels but without any international media attention for the Palestinian cause. And you know that saying, "Give a man a fish, feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime"? Well, I understand that option 3 is, quite literally, like giving the fish, right? But options 1 and 2 could lead to something more sustainable from a Palestinian perspective - renewed support for the Palestinian cause and a possible (if very unlikely) end to the blockade.

And then you have Israel's options in this scenario: (1) allow the flotilla to dock, thereby rendering their laws and restrictions moot; or (2) take military action to intercept the flotilla, knowing that such an interception - even if initially intended to be peaceful - probably won't be and, in any case, will lead to negative international attention and an escalated conflict. Sounds like a classic case of having to choose between two evils.

Add to this complicated scenario the fact that none of us know what really happened when Israeli soldiers boarded the flotilla, and we're left mostly where we started. (Where's the cell phone video footage, huh?) Those who already sided with Israel will continue to do so, and those who already sided with Palestinians will also - both sides probably with more zeal than before this incident.

As ever, nobody wins.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Is Ruth an exceptional convert? Or something to which all converts should aspire?

I was just reading this article from InterFaithways about Ruth, who is held up as the "perfect convert" in the Torah. The article explains Ruth's story - how she converted to Judaism and married a Jew and how, when her husband dies, Ruth follows his mother to Bethlehem to start a new life with her. The article also points out that Ruth's history (as with most women in the Torah) is unknown and not explained, and that it appears that she breaks with her past completely when she adopts Judaism and, in turn, the family of her husband.

Is this the expectation of a perfect convert nowadays? I think it is reasonable to expect a Jewish convert to sever all ties with her former religion, but what to do about relationships with the family that still practices that religion? And how to celebrate religious holidays with that family? I feel fortunate not to come from a very religious family, and I don't think I would feel conflicted about celebrating Hanukkah in my home as a spiritual holiday while retaining Christmas at my parents' house as the secular holiday it's always been to me. But I wonder if it's difficult to find a Jewish community that really accepts as Jewish a woman who wasn't raised Jewish and who would not renounce her family to follow new relatives to Bethlehem. (If I had in-laws relocating to Paris or Tahiti, well. . . ) (Just joking, Mom!)

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Israel?

Because I admittedly don't know as much about it as I should, and because it's such a polarizing topic, I typically avoid any mention of Israel both in this blog and in my daily life. And that's just irresponsible. Knowing that my non-Jewish friends take a pretty anti-Israel stance, and that I usually agree with them in political matters, I've adopted an ignorance is bliss attitude. I don't want to fight! Can't we all just get along? Clearly, we can't.

So I want to read a book. Or two books, even. It seems there aren't any out there that take an objective stance, perhaps because objectivity is impossible. So instead I will read the highly recommended (if a teensy bit outdated) graphic novel Palestine by Joe Sacco. Any recommendations for an engaging pro-Israel book?

Here's to forming educated opinions!

Oh, and the reason this is coming up now is because there was recently an article in the New York Times about how Noam Chomsky and his daughter were denied entry to the Palestinian territories in Israel for a speaking engagement. It raised interesting questions about free speech in a democracy - Is there a difference between speaking one's mind and being "hostile" to the government? Um, yes. The article also connects Mr. Chomsky's border problems to a string of others involving characters from a Spanish performer to an American journalist working for a Palestinian news agency to a UN human rights investigator.

I want to know more! Maybe you do, too?

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Ruth Reichl on Binah

Ruth Reichl, former NYT food critique and author of many food-related books, was interviewed on Binah on KALW today. She talked about her mother (who had a fondness for Fluffernutter), the democratization of taste through Yelp, and what it's like to be a relatively down-to-earth person in a world of food snobs. Not specifically Jewish, but she did speak at the Jewish Community Center in San Francisco, is Jewish herself, and. . . there you have it. Good enough for me to post!

Enjoy!

I like this song.

It's like Will.I.Am's "It's a New Day," without being connected to politics or a particular person. I prefer it that way.

Take a listen to Matisyahu's "One Day." See, Ilan? Your music rubs off on me.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

The Chavurah gasps, choosing a synagogue

Faithful readers of, um, the one post I've written about the Chavurah will know that we've had a hard time getting that group off the ground. First of all, we're small - just six "childless, twenty-thirtysomethings" from Beth El. Second, we consist of two couples. Third, those members who do not belong to said couples have, so far, been MIA. To remedy what feels like chronic indifference, our fearless leaders, Dan and Jillian, arranged for a potluck at their home to discuss a book we chose as a group, The Girl On the Fridge by Etgar Keret.

Excited to finally get together and have something to discuss, Ilan and I read the book and made celery root soup and donned our finest jeans and t-shirts. . . Only to find ourselves in another double date scenario, without our single Chavurah members. SO, I invited another couple from my Intro to Judaism class to make it a triple date, at the very least. We had a lovely meal and the brief discussion of the book was interesting - it's hard not to have an opinion about a collection of short stories in which characters superglue their bare feet to the ceiling or pull murdered rabbits from magician's hats - but this leaves me wondering. . . Is Beth El, organizing body of our Chavurah, for me?

The first Friday evening service that Ilan and I attended there was "Tot Shabbat," and we were unprepared for the overflow of families with young (screaming) children and singalongs from Camp Kee Tov. (Which isn't to say I don't love children and the idea of Tot Shabbat - it was just a lot to deal with as a first impression.) Subsequent services have yielded few additional "childless, twenty-thirtysomething" attendees, save for the High Holidays when young adults presumably return to their East Bay families from other places. And at the few Saturday Torah study groups I've attended, I have been the youngest by at least ten years. I think that feeling so alone would be a lot for ANYONE to deal with at his or her synagogue, but the additional "otherness" of being a non-Jew feels like a bit too much.

My conclusion? I need to broaden my temple net. My criteria: must be (fairly easily) biked to from Elmwood in Berkeley, must be Reform (or Reconstructionist or Renewal), and must have vibrant - or, at least, existant - community of people at my age and stage in life. Is that too much to ask?