This week, at a funeral, a woman came up and introduced herself. She then pulled out a newspaper clipping, a d'var torah that I had written for the Jewish Light back in 2010, for this same Shabbat. She mentioned that it struck a chord with her, which is why she cut it out, and had saved it all of these years. I briefly glanced over it, not remembering what I wrote five years ago, and she said, "I still think about your words today." So, here it is, some Torah and food for thought as we enter this Shabbat HaGadol and begin to physically prepare ourselves, our homes, and of course mentally prepare for the festival of Pesach. Shabbat Shalom!!
Parashat Tzav teaches us some of
the specifics, the commands/rules, of the basic daily sacrifices. This parashah often occurs on the Shabbat
preceding Passover, Shabbat
HaGadol--the great Shabbat.
This special Shabbat is one in which we recall the original Pesach, the
lamb offering whose blood marked the homes of the Israelites and whose meat was
eaten the night before their exodus. Not
only is this special Shabbat a time of reflection, but as the first Pesach is
recalled it is a time when we are given a last minute reminder of the “rules” for
our own Pesach preparations.
How many of us often find
ourselves feeling like Judaism has too many rules? Rules that are sometimes difficult,
confusing, and rules that perhaps on the surface offer nothing spiritual. Too often many of us view Judaism as a religion
of difficult rules and commands, as a dogma that we must follow. But this is the time to change that mindset,
as Judaism is not about dogma. Rather the
rules and commands that we and our ancestors have been given are about the
actions that can help us to regulate our lives and bring us closer to God. These rules were and are about setting a
course for ourselves, that if we perform or do them over and over, they will
cease being “hard” and rather be a natural part of our daily living. Take for example the sin and guilt offerings
of this week’s parashah. Sure, in our
hearts and minds we could simply reflect on what we did and apologize to those
whom we hurt, but an action, a regular thing that we have to physically do on
top of reflection, changes the course of lives in a much different way. If you sin, and have to physically do
something, then I believe you are more likely to have done proper teshuvah
and won’t repeat it again.
Of course
today we don’t have sacrifice to regulate the actions of our lives, but we do
have ritual. And whether or not a Jew is
fully ritually observant, these rituals and commands can still help to guide
one’s life, for when we learn and understand the “hows and the whys” of our practice then we can truly consider whether or not our actions might bring us
closer to God, rather than just assuming that they are “outdated” and have no
meaning in the modern world.
This Shabbat, as we recall the
first Passover sacrifice and reflect on the upcoming holiday, we think of the
many rituals that will not only regulate our lives for the duration of the
holiday, but we also remember that these same rituals link us historically and
certainly spiritually to the generations of Jews who came before us. As we clean out the chametz, prepare our
seder meals, and spend a week eating matzah, these are all actions that link us
not only to the Jewish people but to God.
Parashat Tzav and our celebration of Pesach can remind us that it is the
actions of our hands, and not solely the reflections of our hearts, that truly connect
us to God! As Passover approaches, make this the year
that you learn about doing and not just about reflecting! Shabbat Shalom and Chag Sameach!
Last night I participated in an incredible panel of Jewish female clergy. There were seven of us on the panel but there are more of us here in St. Louis, which is pretty incredible, if you ask me.
Participating in a panel is always an interesting experience. You have a small sense of what is going to happen, as you know the general topic and in this case can give an opening statement, but you have no clue what your fellow panelists are going to say, nor do you know the questions that will be asked.
Since last night, I have been thinking about the last question asked. It has not left my mind, and I though I answered the question, I am still wondering, pondering, considering my answer. We were asked, "Would you consider yourself a feminist?" Of course, I was asked to answer first.
Hmmm. . . Am I a feminist? Yes. Maybe. I don't know.
I shared that I started my freshman year of college a proud, very excited Women's Studies major. But it was an experience and a conversation in a class that left me disappointed and running away from Women's Studies and at the time what I thought of as Feminism. We were asked to describe who we wanted to be, what we wanted to do when we were done with college. I said that I wanted to be successful in my career, but in addition to that, I was so looking forward to being a wife, a mother, and specifically, for whatever reason, describing my desire to be the "soccer mom" driving my kids in a Volvo. It was a picture I had painted for myself and in my mind there was absolutely no reason that I could not be a successful career woman and a "soccer mom." Yet, it was another classmate who challenged me and told me that I wasn't a feminist if I wasn't focused on my career and showing people the power of women; and I was also told that I would never truly know what it is to be a feminist until I knew what it was to love a woman. I was totally confused and at that point disillusioned with feminism. Why did I have to love another woman? Why did I have to choose between a successful career and being an active mom? Why can't I do it all and be it all?
In many ways, I did not realize until the panel last night just how lucky I truly am. I grew up in a congregation where at my Bat Mitzvah there was not only a male rabbi on the bimah, but a female rabbi and a female cantor. So for me, it never seemed out of the realm of possibility that if I wanted to be a rabbi, I could be a rabbi. It never seemed to me that I couldn't be whatever it was that I wanted to be. In that sense, I am truly lucky. I had role models and saw women in roles that others didn't. But, this doesn't mean that I don't recognize those who came before me and made it possible for me to dream and to realize those dreams. I am thankful for the suffragists who fought for my right to vote. I am thankful for Rabbi Sally Priesand and the many other female rabbis who came before, who broke the barriers not only at Hebrew Union College, but in the congregations we now serve. I am thankful for those women, who I studied and hold in such esteem, like Bette Freidan and Gloria Steinam, who challenged others and fought for equal rights for women. So many of these women had to fight for rights and to overcome injustices that in my life, I have not fully experienced, and for that I am thankful. And, as was mentioned last night, in our fighting for women's rights, many doors have been opened for men that perhaps were never realized. How many more men see their role as a husband and father differently because of the women's movement? How many more dads are recognizing that they, too, can stay home and raise a family while their partner works, if that is what they desire? How many men in negotiating job contracts and thinking about their personal/work life balance now consider things like paternity leave? All of this is in no small part to the women's movement.
Do I think that women have fully shattered the glass ceiling and have achieved full equality and acceptance? No. There is still a difference in pay, there are still differences in how we are viewed in comparison with men, there are still doors that have not yet been opened or even realized. I have felt my own little "slights" as a women working in the rabbinate, but these are opportunities to help make change and help ensure that those behind me don't experience those same "slights." I know that not everyone is comfortable with a female rabbi, and I accept that. I don't see myself as any different than a male rabbi, other than the fact that our anatomy is different and well, I can't look like the stereotypical rabbi, as I cannot grow facial hair. But in being who I am, which yes is a woman, I am changing opinions and minds in my own small way. In assuming the leadership poisitions and career roles that I have thus far in my life, as well as balancing that with being a wife and mother, I am changing the world around me in small ways, and hopefully helping young women and men see that it is possible to be, if you want, successful and find balance in working and having a family.
I was asked after the program last night, "what is the definition of a feminist?" I had to say, "I don't really know anymore. I know what I think or thought it was." So, I looked it up. Merriem Webster describes feminism as: 1. the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes, 2. organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests
Given these definitions, especially the first one, I am absolutely a feminist. As I mentioned last night, I would describe myself as an "equalist." What is an equalist? To me, it is someone who absolutely supports this first definition of feminism. In addition it means to be someone who supports organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests but also men's rights and interests. We live in a time where I believe we not only have to support strong women who believe in equality but we have to support and build strong men who believe the same. In addition, as the women's movement has opened access to so many places women never went before, we have to be ever vigilant that this opening of the door to women doesn't close the door to men. As a mother of a young son, I want him to realize, just as much as my daughters, that the world is open to him. He doesn't have to conform to any societal views of who or what men should be. Nor should my daughters. I want each of my children to embrace who they are and be who they want to be.
So, as I ponder this question - Yes, I am a feminist, but. . . for me old assumptions, old views, or at least what I think of as old assumptions and views, don't work for me anymore. I don't want to be seen as a female rabbi, I just want to be a rabbi. I take pride in being a woman, and love being a woman, but it doesn't necessarily define who I am as a rabbi. I don't think I do anything differently, consciously, because I am a woman. I don't know that female or male doctors, lawyers, truck drivers, police officers, do anything differently just because of gender. I want young people to grow up knowing that men and women can be anything they want to be, regardless of gender - rabbi, doctor, firefighter, stay at home parent, President of the United States!
