Rabbi Ruth Adar is a teaching rabbi in San Leandro, CA. She has many hats: rabbi, granny, and ham radio operator K6RAV. She blogs at http://coffeeshoprabbi.com/ and teaches at Jewish Gateways in Albany, CA.
English: Air Force Jewish Chaplain (Capt.) Sarah Schechter leads Jewish Services, wearing traditional Jewish prayer shawl (tallit), at 332 AEW Jt. Base Balad, Iraq, (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
A tallit is a prayer shawl. It may be pronounced “ta-LEET” or “TA-lis” depending on the kind of Hebrew spoken. (The plurals, respectively, are “ta-lee-TOTE” and “ta-LAY-seem.”) The shawl itself is just a shawl; the important parts of the tallit are the long knotted fringes or tzitzit (tzeet-TZEET). We wear them to remind us of the 613 mitzvot [commandments].
Jews wear a tallit for morning prayers. The person who leads prayers often wears a tallit no matter what time of day. We get the commandment to wear the tallit from two places in the Torah: Numbers 15:37-40 and Deuteronomy 22:12. You can learn more about the meaning and history of the tallit from this article by Rabbi Louis Jacobs.
A tallit is one of those things reserved for people who were born Jewish or who have been through the process of conversion. The purpose of the tallit is to remind us of our 613 sacred duties (mitzvot). Only a person who is bound by those duties needs to be reminded of them.
Occasionally you may see a tallit with blue cords in the fringes. Blue is a difficult dye to find in nature. In ancient times, Jews fulfilled the direction for a blue cord by using something called techelet, a product from sea snails, knowledge of which was lost in the Middle Ages. Recently, scholars have come to believe that techelet is a dye made from the murex, a sea snail, so some Jews have begun wearing techelet fringes again.
You walk into a synagogue for Friday night services, and an usher hands you a prayerbook, a sheet with announcements, and says, brightly — something in Hebrew. Or… something. Then someone else says… something… to you as you take a seat. You don’t know any Hebrew. You’re paralyzed. What to do?
If you are a little intimidated by the Hebrew phrases spoken casually around Jewish communities, you are not alone. Here are some tips for coping, and some of the most common phrases you’ll encounter:
1. MOST PHRASES ARE ROUTINE. Most of the phrases like “Shabbat shalom” (see below) do not require more than a smile or a repetition back. No one is going to ask you a real question in Hebrew. Most American Jews do not speak Hebrew. (This makes rabbis sad, but it is the truth.) No one will say “The building is on fire” or “Your car has its lights on” in Hebrew, Aramaic, or Ugaritic. I promise. It’s almost certainly some variation on “Hi.”
2. PEOPLE WHO TALK TO YOU ARE POTENTIAL NEW FRIENDS. They are friendly. It’s OK to say, “What does that mean?” In fact, that gives you an opening for a real conversation, which is how you get to know people.
3. YOU GET POINTS FOR TRYING. When you begin learning greetings, you may mispronounce things, or use a phrase incorrectly. That is OK. Mistakes are how you learn. Your best bet is to develop a sense of humor about it. Two examples:
– When I first became a Jew, several people came to me and said, “Mazal tov!” (Congratulations!) I was not sure how to reply so I said, “Mazal tov!” back to them. Eventually someone explained to me that “Thank you” might be better. As far as I know, everyone thought it was, at worst, a little dumb but sweet.
– My spouse, Linda, mis-heard “Boker Tov” (Good morning) and when she tried to say it to someone else the first time, she said, “Boca Raton!” The person she greeted did burst out laughing – she had inadvertently hit on a very entertaining pun, since lots of retired Jews live in Boca Raton, FL. But again, she got points for trying. And ever since, at home we say “Boca Raton!” because it’s fun.
4. IT IS OK TO REPLY IN ENGLISH. Below, when I write “you can reply” I mean “you can if you want, or you can reply in English.”
Here are some common phrases you may hear, with possible replies:
Shalom! means Hello! or Goodbye! and you can answer: ShaLOM!
Shabbat Shalom! means Happy Sabbath! and you can answer: ShabBAT ShaLOM!
Boker tov! means Good morning! and you can answer: BOker TOV!
Lie-lah tov! means Good night! and you can answer: LIE-lah TOV!
Toe-dah rabbah means Thank you very much! you can reply: b’VAHkaSHA
Mazal tov! means Congratulations! You can reply Toe-DAH! (Thanks!)
Some phrases are not Hebrew, but Yiddish:
Goot Shabbes! means Happy Sabbath! and you can reply Goot SHAbes!
On holidays, there are special greetings:
Shanah tovah! means Happy New Year! you can reply Sha-NAH toVAH!
Chag sameach! means Happy Holiday! you can reply Chag saMAYach!
Goot Yuntif! means Happy Holiday! you can reply Goot YUNtif!
There are more greetings connected with particular holidays, but those are the basic ones. There are words for things you may often hear, but I’ll do a separate post for them.
Remember, it’s just people being friendly: the universal reply to all of them is a smile.
Eden Hensley, one of my students, started a project I found so irresistable that I’ve joined it. Rather than rewrite the wheel, here is the project in her words on her blog, Road to the Good Life:
The Mindful Consumption Challenge
It’s said that money won’t buy happiness. Yet, the US economy is fueled by consumer spending. More pointedly by ego — the constant need to keep up with “The Joneses.” Find out if you’re immune.
In November, join me as I turn the focus inward as I make a conscious decision to be happy with what I have and challenge myself to be a mindful consumer. I was inspired to take the Mindful Consumption Challenge by Katie of Modern Eve, who in turn was inspired by Joselyn of Simply Lovely. I hope you’ll be likewise moved.
Why November? A month where Black Friday and Cyber Monday signal incredible shopping? Amazing deals? Unheard of “savings”?
I’m choosing November because “I need” “I want” shouldn’t overshadow giving thanks.
Join me in being thankful for what we have today. Let’s let go of expectations that maybe we can be happy if we just had [INSERT WANT HERE] tomorrow.
First, what is mindful consumption or mindful spending you might be asking. Does it mean I can never buy something again? No, you can still go shopping. However, instead of just aimlessly wandering a mall you have a mission. Katie states it simply: “Buy less. Buy only what [you] need, what [you] love and what’s in the budget.” She also created a handy infographic to help you avoid wardrobe creep.
Mantra of the Mindful Consumer
I will only buy things that I need.
I will only buy things that I have budgeted for.
For things I am considering buying or planning to buy:
I will only buy things that I envision having for at least five years.
I will only buy things that I really, truly love or that intrigue me.
I will end the year with either the same amount of possessions I started the year with or with fewer possessions.
I will gift or donate possessions
that I haven’t worn or used in over a year.
that I need to have altered before it fits or fixed before it works.
Challenge Guidelines
Each time you’re tempted to get something you don’t need or that’s not in the budget, remind yourself of what you have. In the month of November,
Record each personal or nonessential item that you buy and its cost. Clothing, makeup, accessories, home decor, gadgets, etc. are counted. Food, garbage bags, cleaning supplies, etc. aren’t counted.
Keep yourself accountable. Each time you’re tempted to get something you don’t need:
Tweet what you want with what you’re thankful for with the hash tag #havenotwantchallenge
Share a photo collage of what you want with what you’re thankful for on Instagram use the hash tag #havenotwantchallenge
Share your “true” savings for November. Record each item that you wanted, but didn’t need and didn’t purchase, write it and its cost down. Remember to include sales tax. Tally the avoided purchases to calculate how much you saved. Unlike “savings” from retail sales, this translates to an increase of actual money in your savings account.
Share your purchase history for November. Katie has shared herAugust and September purchase histories.
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Hi, it’s Rabbi Adar again. If you are interested in participating, you can go to Eden’s blog entry to sign up. Just click THIS LINK and leave her a reply.
In case you are wondering what this has to do with Judaism, mindful consumption is a mitzvah. If you want the Hebrew, it’s Lo Tashkheit: You shall not destroy, or waste.
I invite you to join me in not wasting, in becoming a more mindful consumer this November!
My first Hebrew text had the encouraging name Prayer Book Hebrew: The Easy Way. My teacher had taught us the Aleph-Bet (Hebrew alphabet) using handouts and flash cards, and I was excited to get at the book. After all, it said, “The Easy Way!” I had struggled to learn the letters, but now I was to the easy part, right?
It is a very good book, and I recommend it, but let me break it to you gently: there is no easy way to learn to read Hebrew, unless you are young enough for your brain to soak it up naturally. (If you are reading this and you are under 25 or so, you are Very Fortunate and should go find a Hebrew class pronto, before things begin to harden.)
So the question in the title is a serious one: why bother studying Hebrew, if it’s so hard?
1. Returns are high on even the smallest investment. Every tiny bit of Hebrew you learn will enrich every aspect of your Jewish life. Let’s say you only learn the aleph bet. When you stand by an open Torah, you will recognize the letters you see. When you visit Israel, the language of your people will not be squiggles, it will be written in letters that you recognize. Wherever you go in the Jewish world, you will be in on the secret: those are LETTERS. They mean something. If you keep on paying attention, you will begin to recognize words.
2. Hebrew connects us to every other Jew on the planet. If you can learn to say “B’vakashah” (Please) and “Todah rabbah!” (Thank you very much!) you will be able to be polite to Jews everywhere. The more Hebrew you learn, the more you can communicate with Jews who speak Spanish, Russian, French, Farsi, or Hungarian. It doesn’t matter where you come from, if you and I both speak a little Hebrew, we can have a good argument.
3. Hebrew connects us to other Jews across space and time. When I say “Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad” (Hear O Israel, the Eternal is our God, the Eternal is one) and I understand what I am saying, it enriches my prayer. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who marched at Selma, said that prayer in those words. Hannah Senesh, who wrote poetry and died fighting the Nazis, said that prayer in those words. Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, also known as Maimonides, said that prayer in those words. Rabbi Hillel, who lived when the Temple was still standing, said them too, exactly that way. When I pray in Hebrew, my voice blends with theirs.
4. Hebrew is one key to feeling like an insider in this tribe. One does not need perfect fluency to feel a part of things in a Jewish community, but if you don’t know a resh from a dalet (clue: the dalet has a tushie) it is easy to feel left out. That last sentence was an example: the people who know that resh is ר and dalet is ד are smiling at the tushie thing. Now see? You are smiling too.
5. You will make friends studying Hebrew. Research shows that people bond when they go through a challenge together. Want to make friends at synagogue? Take Beginning Hebrew. By the time you make it through the aleph-bet, you will have some friends.
Image: Rabbi wearing a red knitted kippah. Photo by Linda Burnett.
I wear a little hat when I’m praying or studying. It’s called a kippah, in Hebrew, or a yarmulke, if you prefer Yiddish.
I wear the little hat to cultivate a Jewish virtue, tzniut (tznee-OOT).Tzniut means modesty. The hat is a reminder that I am not a big shot (what big shot would wear a ridiculous hat that looks like a coaster, and that sometimes slides over her left ear?) When I pray and when I study, I am standing before the Holy One. I am not a celebrity. I’m just a fallible little rabbi, wearing a silly little hat.
There is nothing magic about the little hat. It isn’t a mitzvah, a commandment, to wear it, just a custom. Some Jewish men wear them all day, every day. Some Jewish women cover their heads with kippot, some with other kinds of head coverings. But all the head-covering is basically about tzniut, about modesty, and about the custom of the community.
Every person should have two pockets. Each pocket should have a note in it for a time of need. When he feels miserable that person should reach into one pocket to find the words: “The world was created for my sake!” But on a day when he feels high and mighty, he should reach into the other pocket to find the message: “Remember, I am nothing but dust.”
True modesty is balanced somewhere between those two notes.
I want to let my readers know about a wonderful new online resource, the Jewish English Lexicon.
One of the trickier things about the worldwide Jewish community (or even the Israeli and American Jewish communities) is that we use words from many different sources: Hebrew, Yiddish, Aramaic, Ladino, and Judeo-Arabic, to name just the most common ones. A person born Jewish tends to learn the vocabulary used in his or her community of origin, which might be anything from “Brooklyn-Askhenazi-Lubavich” to “Louisville-Classical-Reform” to “Pico-Robertson-LA-Persian.” All are as authentically Jewish as Moses himself, just different.
If there’s a word you hear that you don’t understand, type it into the Jewish English Lexicon and get a translation into American Standard English. You can also browse the lexicon for new Jewish-isms to expand your vocabulary.
The Lexicon is the brainchild of Dr. Sarah Bunin Benor, Associate Professor of Contemporary Jewish Studies at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion in Los Angeles.
How can your household begin to keep Shabbat? One way to do it is with a simple Shabbat dinner.
Note: If you are new to Shabbat, make only a few changes, or even one change, at a time. Try things and notice what happens and how you feel. Adjust as necessary. This is a lifetime project. Blessings may be said either in Hebrew or in English. Do what is comfortable for your household.
MAKE IT SPECIAL: “Special” will mean something slightly different for every household. Perhaps you will use a tablecloth, or invite a friend. Whatever you do, make sure it is food that you like and that will not add stress. If cooking is hard for you, have good takeout. Many Jews eat challah, a sweet egg bread, on Shabbat.
YOU WILL NEED: Two candles, wine or juice, bread, yummy food.
SET THE TABLE Put the candles in candlesticks and bread on the table. Cover the bread with a napkin.
LIGHT CANDLES: A. Light the two candles B. Say the blessing: Blessed are you, Eternal our God, Ruler of the Universe, who commands us to light the candles of Shabbat. (I’m assuming here that English is more comfortable for you. If you want Hebrew, or to sing it, you can find a recording here.)
BLESS THE BREAD: Uncover the bread, touch it, and say: Blessed are you, Eternal our God, Ruler of the Universe, who brings forth bread from the earth. (If you want Hebrew, or to sing it, you can find a recording here.) Then tear or cut a piece of the bread, and eat it.
EAT DINNER: You already know how to do that!
SAY GRACE AFTER MEALS: Stay at the table until everyone is finished. Then give thanks for having eaten: Blessed are you, Eternal our God, Who nourishes us all. There is a longer, beautiful blessing which you can learn by googling “Birkat Hamazon” and about which I’ll write in some future post. For now, for a simple Shabbat for beginners, this is enough.
The most important thing is to keep things low-key and pleasant: don’t use this meal as a time to remind anyone of work that needs to be done, or for unpleasant arguments. And keep in mind that since Shabbat comes once a week, it doesn’t have to be “perfect.” If there is something you’d like to be different, try that next week!
I just got word via the Women’s Rabbinic Network that Anat Hoffman was arrested again last night at the Kotel, the Western Wall, when she was there with a group from Women of the Wall and another group from Hadassah. Since I can’t find any more information on Ha’aretz to corroborate the details I’m not going to say more than that. She’s been arrested, again. I wish I were surprised.
Anat Hoffman is executive director of the Israel Religious Action Center, the legal and advocacy arm of the Reform Movement in Israel. She is also the chair of Nashot HaKotel, the Women of the Wall. She was elected to the Jerusalem City Council and sat on it for fourteen years. She has been tireless in her efforts to seek fairness and justice for all in Israel.
In the recent past, women have been arrested at the Kotel on Rosh Chodesh for wearing a too-traditional tallit, for wearing a tallit in a manner too much like a man, and for similar ridiculousness. If this is a place that belongs to the whole Jewish people, why are women not allowed to pray there? Why must women be silent and meek there? Why is only one expression of Judaism acceptable there?
Some will say that this is an unimportant matter. Who cares what the haredim do at the Kotel? What about Iran? What about security? What about the Situation with the Palestinians? What about the Arab Spring?
But you see, this is not really an issue about women praying at a wall, or women wearing shawls. This is really a question of the humanity of women. Women’s images are disappearing from public view in Israel, because one group of Jews sees all women’s images, faces, voices, and presence as immodest. A group of men spat upon a young Orthodox girl, walking home from school, because her (very modest) clothing did not meet their standards of modesty. As with the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, buses have become a battleground: do women have to sit in the back? may they ride at all?
So it is not a trivial matter that a group of women are insisting on their right to pray at the most famous holy site in the Jewish world. This is not about the Wall. It is not about shawls. It is about women’s right to be visible without molestation or repression.
The facts are not all in regarding this latest arrest. I hope that Anat is all right. She is in my prayers tonight. But not just in my prayers: I am joining other members of the Women’s Rabbinic Network in sending a donation to the Women of the Wall in honor of her, and to help cover the legal expenses of this work.
If you would like to join me (please join me!) you can donate funds to either of these organizations. Just click on the link, and it will take you to the donations page.
The month of Cheshvan is sometimes called “Mar”Cheshvan, Bitter Cheshvan, because there are no holidays or rejoicing in it. I am sorry to say that Anat’s arrest and the continuing assaults on women’s rights in Israel make this Cheshvan bitter indeed. Let us hope that the time is coming when women can again stand at the Wall and pray, as we have done for centuries. Let us hope that some future Cheshvan is sweet.
Update: 10:58 pm, PST, Oct 16: The Women of the Wall report on their facebook page that Anat was still detained at this writing, and they show a photo of her being taken away in handcuffs. At their regular morning prayer time, two other WoW leaders, Director Lesley Sachs and board member Rachel Cohen Yeshurun, were also arrested. (Now would be a very good time to “like” their page on facebook, if you use facebook.)
Today I was reminded again why I belong to a congregation.
My partner is out of town, enjoying a long-planned trip with friends. The friends with her are good friends of mine, too — but the three of them are doing something that I wouldn’t enjoy. So I don’t begrudge her being gone, nor do I begrudge them. Truly, it’s all good.
Only I’ve been lonesome. It’s been a stressful week, for a lot of reasons that are not for a public blog, and I was a bit sad and a bit lonely. I’ve been following my instincts when lonesome and stressed-out, which is to watch more TV than is good for me, and to work more than is really necessary. In other words, I’ve been hiding.
But today I had a commitment to keep: I had promised to read the haftarah for services this morning. This morning, as I got dressed up to go, I wished I didn’t have the commitment. I wished I could just hide some more. But I got up, dressed up, and went to services at Temple Sinai.
As soon as I walked in the door, most things were familiar. I noticed that the prayer books and chumashim (books with the Torah and haftarah in them) were jumbled on the shelf, so I tidied them up. I chatted with a acquaintance, and met a couple of new people. I reconnected with a recently widowed person with whom I hadn’t really talked in years.
The service was nice. Some of the words blew past me, but others reminded me of the person I would like to be, the person I intend to be. We learned a little Torah, and the chair of the Green committee told us what that committee does (encourage recycling and improve water use around the shul.) The music was excellent, although I was a trifle annoyed that I didn’t know all of it.
At kiddush (the Shabbat meal) afterwards: more friends, more little conversations. Nothing earthshaking, just a reminder that I’m part of a community. I’m needed, if I will just step up and straighten the books, or volunteer for something. I’m needed to pay attention, too. Other people have troubles, bigger troubles than mine: I heard about recovery from surgery, and new widowhood, and disappointments in business. I heard a few jokes, applauded a couple of impending birthdays, complimented someone’s Torah reading. I resolved, as I left, that I need to be more present in this place, because it connects me to other Jews, to people with Jewish values.
This is the real reason I belong to a congregation. I came home reconnected to the Jewish people. That is almost always what happens to me when I go to shul (synagogue). Some of it was good, some of it was boring, some of it was trivial, but it was centered on Torah. I am reminded of who I am, what I want to do in the world.
I am a Jew. I am part of a People. I remember that best when I can touch base with other Jews, and the best way I know to do that is with my congregation.
National Coming Out Day logo, designed by artist Keith Haring. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Yesterday was National Coming Out Day. There are still many places where coming out as L or G or B or T or Q is a very scary proposition. Being gay in Uganda can get you killed. Being any kind of queer in the wrong small town in the U.S. can still be extremely scary and unpleasant. And far too many young people are rejected by parents and other relatives for being gay or lesbian: I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea that some people throw away their children, but it definitely happens.
I remember my first National Coming Out Day, in 1988 (?). It may have been the actual first one, for all I know. I had my last foot surgery that day, to repair the damages from a series of bungled surgeries. It was at the old Foot Hospital in San Francisco (where the Jewish High School is today). I have a vivid memory of taking two Valium tablets I was offered, and as they were wheeling me off to the operating room, full to the gills of Valium, I delightedly came out to everyone I passed. “Hi! I’m a lesbian! Happy coming out day!” …
The surgery was a salvage job on a poor little foot that was never going to work right or quit hurting, but the ride to the operating room ROCKED.
Today, it’s usually not a life-or-death decision for an adult American to come out as LGBTQ. We can see lots of people like us on TV, even if the range of color and the stereotyping leaves much to be desired. There are “out” gay folk in the military and in the government.
But that does not mean that the work is done. As long as there are young people, anywhere in this country, who are born into places where they have to feel afraid because of their orientation (or because someone else thinks they look “gay”) we haven’t finished. As long as there are people being persecuted elsewhere simply for their orientation, we haven’t finished. Until all human beings feel free to simply be who they are, we aren’t done.
If you are out, great. Now look in your checkbook to see when you last supported an organization that works to make the world safe for us. If you haven’t done something in the last year, I urge you to “come out” as a philanthropist, even if your philanthropy consists of $5.
May the day come with there is nothing more to do. Until then, as the rabbis say in Pirkei Avot 2:21: “You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to desist from it.”
