A new young Jewish community in SF

I can't go this time around, but this new Jewish community looks like a fun, interesting time and they're having their first Shabbat event this Friday. They describe themselves as "one part indie Shabbat community, one part San Francisco experiment, and one part tool kit for DIY Jewish practice." Well then.

Can I get an "amen"? Amen!

Genessa and I went to that Three Rabbis event I've talked about in earlier posts. It was at the JCC - a crazy beautiful building with great art and social justice exhibits lining just about every hallway. As I've mentioned in previous posts, I was a little disheartened to know that three white, middle-aged, male rabbis would be leading a panel on "otherness" in the Jewish community - come on, this is SAN FRANCISCO! - but what can you do?

The conversation was kind of all over the place, and not especially ground-breaking. However, audience members were able to write questions on index cards to be answered by the rabbis, and my question was chosen. I asked something like: Is there a place in the Jewish community for non-Jews who feel a spiritual connection to Jewish practice and tradition, but who may not have plans to convert. The answer? Practicing Jews may not (should not?) say "amen" to prayers related to "our" God or specific Jewish experiences when recited by these types of non-Jews.

This is especially relevant to the Passover seder. If God had only "brought US out from Egypt," or parted the Red Sea," drowning "OUR pursuers in its waters" - that would have been enough. So the song goes during the seder (though the CAPS are my own doing).  Implicit in the response of the rabbis is that, though I may sit at the Passover table, I should not sing blessings or songs like the one above (Dayenu) so as not to cheapen the experience or invalidate the suffering of those with REAL Jewish ancestors.

I actually don't take issue with the opinions of these rabbis - I understand where they're coming from. Thankfully, I've never encountered this attitude in my own life, and don't expect to find myself praying with the Three Rabbis any time soon. Still, the response did get me thinking about secular Jews who sing prayers in Hebrew, without really understanding what they're saying. Can these rabbis say "amen" to people who pray by rote rather than with feeling? Is ancestry more important than sincerity? What do you think?

Dipping my toes into the SF Jewish water

In my continued quest to explore San Francisco and have adventures, I did a little poking around the 'net and found some great events and such coming up that I'm looking forward to checking out.

1. The Jewish Community Center in SF (JCCSF) is so amazing, with classes and lectures and a pool and a Judaica shop and an art studio and, and, and. . . How to decide between ballet and ceramics? And also the many interesting events they have coming up, including. . .
2. The (I think) unfortunately named "Three Rabbis Walk Into the Room," in which Reform, Conservative and Orthodox rabbis (one each) will be discussing conversion, gender and the "Jew of the future" in April. Although all three rabbis are men, I'm looking forward to hearing what they have to say.
3. I'm really pumped to check out Sha-ar Zahev for a Shabbat service someday soon. They're really close to my house, and explicitly feminist (and also the self-proclaimed "vibrant community of gay and lesbian Jews" in SF). And their siddur (prayer book) is widely published and is available as far away as Boston. Fancy that! Also, if I remember right, their Torah study doesn't start until 10:00 on Saturday mornings, which breaks the usual 9:00 mold I've been seeing everywhere else. I really think the Universe wants me to sleep in on Shabbat.
4. Or Shalom, a Reconstructionist temple, also seems like it would be good to check out, but it's a bit of a hike for me. We'll see. . .

And that's what I've got so far. I'm also still reading Jimmy Carter's book - it took a back seat to some faster paced fiction recently. But I swear, a review will be forthcoming!

New name, new game

Thanks to the lovely Genessa for providing the absolutely inspired new name for my blog.  I think it fits, don't you?

Tonight we went to Chochmat HaLev, a renewal temple right here in Berkeley, for Shabbat services.  It was just what I needed - plenty of singing and clapping and dancing, coupled with a reflective service and even a "blessing booth," which I took full advantage of.  The cosmos are with me apparently, and I'm starting to believe it.  Shabbat shalom!

Shana Tovah! It's gonna cost you.

Ilan and I have attended services at Beth El probably two or three times. (In other words, more than we have services at any other temple.) I liked High Holidays there last year, when I think we paid $50/ticket and got to attend one service each for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We bought the tickets through a coalition of East Bay congregations that allowed the more timid among us to dip our toes in the waters of a few different places. Options ranged from the sedate and comfortable (Beth El) to the clappy and dancey (Chochmat Halev).

Okay, anyway, I couldn't find those great $50 tickets this year, so I emailed Beth El directly to see about tickets and they cost $250 PER PERSON. Is that craziness? If Ilan and I pay the full amount, we will have purchased membership, anyway. But we're not going to do that. We're going to offer $100 or $150 for both of us, see if they accept that donation, and take it from there. I know Beth El has to pay for a whole slew of construction projects they completed a while ago, and I'm sure they're not the only ones charging this amount (or more), but I'm still a little shocked at the ticket price for these tickets! Don't they know I have a cat to feed?

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?

The Chavurah continues, just barely

Okay, so after that initial "housekeeping" meeting of Chavurah liaisons at Beth El, I arranged for our first planning meeting. Given that only six people, including Ilan and me, had signed up in our "demographic," (read: late twenties and early thirties, no children) I didn't know what to expect. We met at Caffe Trieste on Piedmont Avenue in Oakland and. . . only two people, Dan and Jill, showed up. And they were a couple. So, essentially, it was a double date.

We did the best with what we had and planned to meet again as a group, hopefully with our two missing members, for a Tu B'Shevat garden clean-up at Beth El and lunch at Cheeseboard. (Tu B'Shevat, according to Anita Diamant in Living a Jewish Life, is a holiday that celebrates "the relationship between people and the natural world, or in contemporary parlance, the ecology of the planet. In Jewish tradition, the primary symbol of this relationship is the tree.") Dan and Jill planned to be there, but our two additional members either didn't respond or couldn't make it. So we canceled. Sad, but true. We're working on reaching out to the congregation to get additional members and breathe some life into the group, so we'll see what happens.

On a more positive note, this has freed Ilan and I up to celebrate Tu B'Shevat in other ways. Namely, by gathering a group of friends to head toward Ano Nuevo to scope out the elephant seals in all of their mating, fighting glory. (Hm, mating and fighting. . . always closely related.) And maybe on Saturday we can pot some new house plants, too. And eat some fruit. Indeed.

The Chavurah gets underway

After a fun night out last night, I dragged my still full belly (TOO. MUCH. CHOCOLATE.) out of bed this morning and biked the six miles to Beth El for an organizational meeting for the Chavurot they're starting there. A Chavurah, according to the Union of Reform Judaism, is "a group of people (individuals, couples, families) who get together on a regular basis to celebrate Jewish life." I signed Ilan and I up a while ago in hopes we'd get to know a few new people like us to do fun Jewish things with. (Writing that reminds me of Dirty Dancing, when Baby's sister sarcastically says to her, "Quite the joiner, aren't we?")

Anyway, this particular meeting was for liaisons, who coordinate the meetings of the Chavurot and connect with folks at Beth El with updates and in search of necessary resources. I don't remember signing up for that job, but apparently I did and that's the role I found myself in this morning. Thankfully, another "no children, 20- or 30-something" group member, Dan, showed up as well and we agreed to tag team some of the liaison duties moving forward. I'm really looking forward to meeting the others in my Chavurah and planning our first meeting. I'm thinking dessert and drinks at Cafe Trieste. . . Stay tuned!