I became Orthodox under the guidance of someone who advised me to run from it. Rabbi Dr. Barry Freundel, the rabbi of the Kesher Israel Congregation in Washington D.C. -- whose name you might recognize from the 2000 presidential election, when he was constantly quoted as "Joe Lieberman's rabbi" and asked deeply-thought questions like, "If a nuclear war breaks out on Shabbat, will Senator Lieberman be allowed to help out in the ensuing battles?"
In addition to being a rabbi, he holds advanced degrees in chemistry and biology, and is a fiendishly rational thinker. While many people are attracted to religion through mystical stories and supernatural powers, for me the draw was the exact opposite. I was already totally nuts. I needed something to ground me, a rational set of rules to lead my life by. I started by going to Rabbi Freundel's weekly halacha shiur -- a three-hour class about everything from washing your hands before getting out of bed to whether one needs to tie tzitzit on a rain poncho to what happens if you start eating a ham sandwich, realize it's not kosher, then get a craving for macaroni and cheese -- are you allowed to? (Yes: because ham doesn't fall under the category of kosher meat.) "Run the other way," he said. "We are competists." I'm a masochist. It just made me hungry for more.
Anyway. Rabbi Freundel has a new book, Why We Pray What We Pray, and it's a doozy. The book is an excellent field guide to Jewish prayers, perhaps the most well-conceived and fully-realized book on the subject in English to come out in years. (And just so you don't think my opinion is weighted, he is also the man who forced me to type up 112 pages of notes about tefillin. Five times.) What the book lacks in scope, it makes up in depth -- choosing just six different prayers, giving their history, previous incarnations,
Which might sound boring under someone else's wing. The first chapter is dedicated to the Shema -- and Freundel picks apart its history step by step, discovering that, in its 3000-year lifespan, the prayer once included several other parts of the Torah -- and things that didn't even come from the Torah, including the second line of its present incarnation -- as well as one whole Torah portion (this part was ultimately excised, on the grounds that it would take too damn long for normal people to get through) and the entirety of the Ten Commandments. Later chapters go through other prayers, some of which (like "Nishmat") have just become known as long and sort of meandering in the present liturgy, others (such as "Alenu") have become sing-songy and equally meaningless for us. This book is an adventure in the best way, a book that makes us love words again.
Reading Why We Pray, I sometimes wished that Freundel, and not some boring dictionary-like rabbi, wrote the lines of commentary underneath the prayers in my normal old prayerbook. Then I changed my mind. Those little two-line insights are good for ignoring on a day-to-day basis, and jumping right back into the prayerbook. These stories are at their best for actual reading, for paying attention to and for diving into. As Rabbi Dr. Jonathan Lord Sacks says (in this superb video), Jewish people are great at being kind to others and at studying, two of the three pillars on which the world rests. The praying part -- taking these words that we say every time we set foot in a synagogue* and giving our prayer meaning, a life beyond our lips, and a meaning above the dullness of mundane routine -- is what we need to work on.
And here, folks, is where it starts.
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* -- every time we set foot in a synagogue and it's not for a disco Bar Mitzvah party, I mean.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Why We Pray What We Pray
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Happy Bleedin' Bloomsday!
Today is Bloomsday, named after Leopold Bloom, the main character of James Joyce's Ulysses and patron saint of 21st-century literary snobs everywhere. 
(I write this as a proud literary snob myself. My own history with Ulysses: I took it out from Northeast Regional Library on a summer loan in fifth grade, spent the entire summer reading the whole damn thing and not understanding any part, oblivious to the sexuality and the social motifs, and bloodly loving every minute of it.)
For more information on Bloomsday and Joyce, check out the Jewniverse that I wrote about it. And please notice Joyce's own depiction of Leopold Bloom to the right. Contrary to everyone's hopes and dreams and chagrin, Bloom isn't actually Jewish, by the strictest measure of Jewish law, anyway, as well as by his own estimation -- the character was born to a Jewish father and a Protestant mother, and converted to Catholicism to marry that feisty Molly Bloom, but still keeps getting mistaken for a Jew.
The occasion of Bloomsday, of course, means that I need to do everything possible to let everyone in the universe know about it. There are tons of Bloomsday events going on, from marathon Ulysses readings at North Carolina's Old Books on Front St, Philadelphia's Rosenbach Museum, and elsewhere...and online, of course. There's a special Twitter adaptation called @11lysses going on right now, and it is frighteningly brilliant, and a worthy successor to Joyce's on inscrutability:
Go read the rest of it now! And go wish everyone you meet a happy Bloomsday. They won't know what you're talking about, but they'll appreciate it.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
New X-Men Trailer, with Added Holocaust
Fox Studios released four new clips from the new X-Men movie last night. If you've followed my posts about Magneto's history as a Holocaust survivor -- or if you've seen the opening sequence of the first X-Men movie in 2000 -- you're aware of his loaded and complicated history. But what follows might be the creepiest rendition ever of the two words that, for many of us, defined growing up in the shadow of the Holocaust.
Is that wildly improper? Chillingly appropriate? Too intense and emotionally-loaded to simplify to one thing? I'm voting for a mixture of all three.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Lag Time
It's almost Lag B'Omer, which is making me hella nostalgic for the Stern Grove Chabad party in Yoko a Go-Go
for those who gathered there at sunset there
were promises of a sin-free life at stake
I didn’t want that
I just wanted to say hiapparently everyone had the same idea
fighting to get closer to the kever
I wanted to tell them
I’m only here for the rabbi
<< read the rest >>And because good things always come in threes (famous people dying, wise men...uh, whut?) I should also tell you that the new G-dcast Shavuos video is up and atom:
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Behind the Scenes at B&H Photo
We're huge fans of B&H Photo and Video, the famous camera shop run by Hasidic Jews in the center of Manhattan -- one of the best shops in the industry, frequented by photo nuts and Hollywood camerapeople. And today, this news is hitting the web: Somebody purchased a used camera there with a used memory card. On the card was a roll of photos taken behind the scenes of a friendly -- but notoriously publicity-shy -- operation.
Linhberg, who bought the camera, posted the photos on his blog. His site seems to be running slow, so here are a few, courtesy of PetaPixel, who reposted them:
We speculate that it might be part of a covert campaign for the new reboot of the science-fiction series Little Fuzzy, which has also included ukulele love songs and stuffed animals. Because, well, Hasidim are little and fuzzy.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Reading Blind
So that reading I did at Freerange with Michael Showalter last week...
(It actually wasn't only Michael Showalter. I should stop saying that. Koren Zalickas and Alison Espach were there, too, and they were both great. Koren has 2-year-old and is about 25 months pregnant and holds herself in from cursing all day. She read from this nonfiction book she wrote, and she channeled herself amazingly -- she just let the cusses fly. I think everyone needs to get a little unhinged and childlike at times. I used to do that with performing, but now I mostly just jump on the bed with my kids, during those times when I don't have to be the responsible one.)
But. Michael Showalter was there, too, and it was great. I started off. I was the first reader in the series, and I might have been the first reader ever in the club -- it was Freerange's debut show in the space -- and I didn't think to check how much lighting there was. And there was none. The awesome Daniel Zana shot footage, and I don't sound nearly as bad as I imagined, but there's still a bunch of me squinting at the paper and wondering What language is this written in?. More than my regular reading, I assure you.
And Daniel, by the way, is the director of the amazing movie The Vinyl Frontier, which is premiering in a few weeks in New York:
Some people stopped me in a bar afterward to say that I was great, and that did tons for my ego. (Thank you, people in bar.) Although I still cringe. Bomb just wrote a great write-up of the night in which they said that this was my first time reading nonfiction since 6th grade. It wasn't -- I mean, I did a speaking tour for my memoir, which I haven't read from since -- although I might have said that on the mic? Oops. Sorry about that. But thank you for coming. No, I mean it. Thank YOU.
