Book Review: Biblical Beauty

I'm a huge fan of taking a look at the old and bringing it into the new -- it's Judaism's basic foundation and approach to everything in life. We look at the Torah, we say "what does this mean now," and we go from there. This essentially is what Rachelle Weisberger has done in her new book, Biblical Beauty: Ancient Secrets and Modern Solutions. [I will add the disclaimer here that I got this book for review purposes!]

Is this book for everyone? Probably not. Is this book for me? Not really, no.

The book is divided into Ancient Secrets and Modern Solutions. I immediately was curious if Weisberger took a look at Rachav (who I've written about many times), and there she was! A section on Rachav and her mad makeup skills as the "most legendary prostitute" in the land. I wouldn't say this really is a shining example of Biblical beauty, and as someone familiar with Rachav and her legacy, I have to say that the chapter left me feeling like the author took a shallow approach, making these Biblical women part of a gimmick rather than a lesson in true beauty. Yes, the Talmud details her beauty and the allure she held for men across the land, but her legacy comes from the fact that she saved the Israelites and became a mother to nations of prophets, not because she knew how to do her eyes.

I guess I've never been one to focus on the physical attributes of one's character, which is not to say that I don't believe in getting gussied up every now and again, but I guess I don't really get this book or its purpose. I can see it playing a roll in communities that frown on makeup and attention to physical appearance, and perhaps it can serve some type of inspirational platform for all of those Orthodox teen girls who are starving themselves to be married off at the right age. But I also see the negative impacts of a book like this. It seems to emphasize that it was important for the matriarchs and prolific women of the Tanakh for being physically beautiful, and it offers solutions of how to mimic that care and expertise in the modern period. A little more than 20 pages are devoted to "Inner Beauty" while the rest of the book is devoted wholly to "Outer Beauty."

I guess I'm just not sold on this book helping me find my "unique, intrinsic beauty." It provides a superficial look at some of the most inspiring women of the Tanakh -- from Miriam to Judith to Sarah and so on -- but perhaps it's in my nature to want more than the suggestion that they all cared about how they looked.

What message does this send exactly?

I'm curious what you -- the reader -- would think of this book, so I'm passing this book along in the hopes that maybe a review will follow. Perhaps we can start a review chain? At any rate, if you're interested in reviewing this book (that is, receiving the copy I received in order to review it on your own blog), simply say so in your comment. I'll randomly pick someone by Wednesday around noon to get the book for review.

Gluckel of Hameln: The Original Blogging Jewess

Gluckel of Hameln, a late-17th century and early-18th century businesswoman and diarist in Germany, wrote her life's story down in a memoir, providing for historians and Jews the world over a glimpse at the everyday life and dealings of a simple woman going about her business. I read this book during my undergraduate career (circa April 2004; wow I'm old) and wrote a short paper on it, highlighting how focused this woman was on proper etiquette in business dealings, privacy in internal family affairs, living justly and rightly in order to obtain a place in the world to come, and other lessons on life. She wrote her memoires largely for her descendants, but what it provides us with today is an intimate look into what I'd like to call the Original Blogging Jewess.

Of course, she wasn't blogging, but reading what she has written is amusing from the perspective of a modern-day woman blogger. Here's this woman, with a bounty of children that she's worried about marrying off, talking about the people who run the synagogue, her business dealings, rabbis and how excellent they are, the internal strife of her family that must be kept private, and more. Obviously when Gluckel was writing her memoires, she never envisioned them being publicized to an audience as widely as they are today. You can hop over to Amazon and buy a copy and read the laundry list of names she provides her reader with. However, much like me, she only includes names when the topics to which they are connected are positive and praiseworthy.


It's extremely fascinating for me, especially being in an environment as a frum Orthodox woman blogger that has certain expectations and understandings of modesty and privacy, to watch Gluckel say something like the following, in regards to those battling over the spot of what essentially was synagogue president.

The community prospered during the presidency of my father ... I do recall, however, while I was yet a child, certain scoundrels rose against my father and his fellow officials, and sought to insure the community. ... Now that they are dead and stand in judgment before the Most High, I will not name them, but everyone in our community well knows who they were.

Now, if someone was blogging this today, they might suspect that no one in their community even reads their blog. The point, then, is without problem. But for those who do read the blog, they would know who she's talking about and might find it offensive or, on the other hand, amusing. Those reading the blog with no connection to the community would be completely uninformed and she's saved face by not naming them! I recall writing something like this on many occasions, such as when I wrote about a synagogue in Chicago (of the Reform slant) that was X, Y, Z. People in Chicago who had been to the shul were well aware of what shul it was. But was I crass enough to talk about the shul by name? No. I mean, come on. Privacy and respect folks!

I really think that if Gluckel were alive today, she'd be rocking a blog like myself and @hsabomilner. Talking about the tough issues of being a frum woman, talking about all the ridiculous situations we get ourselves into, raising kids and husbands (har har). She was a woman outside her age, I think.

At any rate, if you have a free moment, it's a really quick read and it will blow your mind how modern some of the situations are. There's even an incident in which the author's son, Joseph, sends his mother a letter requesting money (despite having been told by the rosh yeshiva that no money was required). At first read, it reminds me of those sneaky phishing schemes that started on phone and have advanced to emails (even Joseph Telushkin's account got hacked, and an email was sent out to the masses of his mailbox saying "help! I'm stuck in London without funds!").

Peace and good books!

Women in Judaism: Chin up!

I can't help but write about the topic of women in Judaism. Specifically, the reason I'm inclined to write is because several Jewish, woman bloggers have written in the past week about Simchat Torah being a man's holiday. You can find posts over at Ilana-Davita , Kosher Academic , as well as Raizy and Isramom. I'm sure there are an abundance of blogs on the net that share kvetches about the holiday while making an assessment about the situation of women in Orthodox Judaism, but these are all I have in the collection right now. Interestingly, last night at the rabbi's another dinner attendee (a male of the Conservative Jewish variety) and I got into a discussion about the topic of women in Orthodox Judaism, the mechitzah, Simchat Torah and so much more.

The posts are a lot about the division of men and women in Orthodox Judaism, how women don't get called for aliyot and how during Simchat Torah the women all sit around watching as the men and boys dance around in great joy. I'm summarizing here, but it's sort of the same kvetches that people have had for eons about Orthodoxy, and it's one thing that I've never really had a beef with -- and this is coming from someone who wasn't raised Jewish, who came through as a Reform convert. Maybe I'm naive and because I didn't grow up in Orthodox I don't have the beef that others do, but in my experience, the only way that I can truly feel a connection to G-d in prayer and action and sentiment and lifestyle is when it is the "Orthodox" way of doing things.

So when I was talking to a friend last night, I was explaining that the mechitzah -- to me -- is so necessary and important in Jewish prayer. My only beef with mechitzot is when they are too tall and you can't see the rabbi, but even then, I'm comfortable enough in my prayer that I don't need to see the rabbi. After all, the rabbi isn't meant to be like a priest or pastor, he is meant to guide the services, but he isn't the key to a proper Shabbat service or otherwise. The mechitzah, to me, is marvelous. I go to shul for me, I go to pray in a community setting, but I go for me and it's all about how you view it. When I go to shul and people are all touchy feely (this is at a non-Orthodox shul, that is), it seems unnatural to me. It's just people going through motions but without the ability to focus on the point of being in shul. The mechitzah allows me to focus, it doesn't separate me from the men, it allows me to be myself.

Now, when I go to Chabad on campus, the mechitzah isn't like it was back home (about four-feet-tall), but is rather a folding thing that can be easily put up and taken down. It's tall, and it blocks the view almost entirely. During Simchat Torah, the mechitzah was up. We women -- there were never more than five of us -- were cutting a rug, really dancing, really being joyous and taking part in the holiday, and when we got really raucous, we moved the mechitzah so that the men couldn't see us. We were celebrating, and I wasn't thinking at all how awkward it might have been or how separate we were or the division. During the service, the rabbi even had me read the English portion before we chanted -- I was involved. Back in Chicago at the modern Orthodox synagogue I went to, nearly every week one of the rebbetzins got up and did a d'var Torah in the shul and all listened with poise and respect. It is not impossible for women to play a powerful role in an Orthodox setting, and anyone who tells you otherwise is stuck on the "can't" and not the empowering aspects of the mitzvot. Mitzvot are not there to bind us, they are there to make us more aware of how we live, be we women or men, and our differing roles are unique and purposeful.

I guess, what it comes down to, is what you can personally get from Judaism. In my mind, I am so devoted to my personal experience with G-d and within Judaism, and I get to express that in how involved I can and cannot be in synagogue. I know that when women get married, their role changes and they have children and homes to attend to, but if you are driven and inspired to maintain that experience of personal, ethical Judaism, then it will be done. You just can't get caught up in all the "you can't do this" and look at them as G-d's way of providing each of our souls with our unique needs. We don't always know what is best for us, but I have to believe that G-d does.

And it isn't all women raise the kids, make the food, keep the home and men go to shul, study, read Torah, get called for aliyot, etc. There's so much more to it than that. We just get so caught up in what we don't have or don't get to do that we lose the meaning and the purpose for those special things we DO get to do and what our individual needs and experience are.

Chin up, ladies.

Rashi's Daughters, revisted.

Okay, okay. Let me explain myself.

In this post, I issued my irritation at the perpetuation of Rashi's daughters as a true, factual set of events in history, whereas in truth it is merely a legend developed with no factual documentation beyond it's first appearance in the 18th century. However, I never said that there are no factual instances of women donning tefillin or studying Talmud or being learned in the ways of halakah or Judaism.

There are many instances of this, including that Michal, daughter of King Saul, donning tefillin. In Eruvin in the Talmud there is also notation that "Michal daughter of Kushi wore tefillin and the sages did not protest." Likewise, the wife of Chaim ibn Attar and the Maiden of Ludmir (19th century) also were known to have practiced this mitzvah.

To be sure, tefillin is not prohibited for women. You see, it's a time-bound mitzvah to which women are not held. However, this does not necessarily mean it is prohibited. Some sages, including Rashi and the Rambam said that it was completely acceptable, but that women were not to say the b'racha (blessing), because the "who has commanded us" would not apply. Specifically, the Rambam says, "Women, slaves, and minors are exempt from tzitzit from the Torah ... women and slaves who want to wrap themselves in tzitzit may do so without a berakha. And so too with other such mitzvot from which women are exempt: if they want to perform them without a berakha, one does not protest" (Hilkhot Tsitsit 3:9).

My point in all of this is that there is a difference between historical documentation of women -- plain or semi-important or even great women -- donning tefillin or writing responsa or studying Talmud and Rashi's daughters doing these things. Why is this? Well, Rashi is perhaps one of the greatest Jewish thinkers of all time, and I don't think anyone would disagree with me there. There is much more weight, as such, put into the stories of his daughters being this great liberating, free thinking women of the 11th century than of perhaps any other women of the 11th century doing these things. It's about influence, reputation.

In all things we seek out the best, most reliable source of information if we are preparing to do something. It is why there is a ladder, so to speak, in just about every aspect of life. We seek out the most reliable mechanic on how to fix our cars, we go to the best doctors we can find to seek the best treatment for our ailments, we take our ques from those with the best reputation and we rely on them to not lead us astray.

Hopefully this makes sense. I am not rallying for or against women donning tefillin, really. It isn't for me, but I appreciate that it is completely permissible for women to do so. I just think that when the debates arise about women studying Talmud or doing nontraditional (for women) mitzvot, it shouldn't always come back to "Well, Rashi's daughters did it!" because we know that this has no factual history to it before the 18th century -- hundreds of years after the fact.

I do agree, though, with those supporters of the Rashi's daughters legend, that Rashi's daughters are important and significant in the history of Jewish women, it gives us inspiration and hope, but I just want it to be clear in the same vein, that this is a legend and like all great legends, there is room for error.

As David Mikkelson, who runs snopes.com, once said, "...our willingness to accept legends depends far more upon their expression of concepts we want to believe than upon their plausibility."

A tiny kvetch.

I just found out there's another Rashi's daughter book coming out, this time it's for children ages 9-12. It's just perpetuating this unproven myth of Rashi's daughters. I mean, sure it's empowering, but it's also falsely used all the time as a reason for various things.

Why does it rub me the wrong way so much? No clue. I mean, shouldn't I be all about woman empowerment and women studying Talmud and donning tefillin? I suppose I should. I just wish people would stop using Rashi's daughters as the almighty truth and proof of such things when there isn't a single shred of evidence that they did any of those things.

Legends and myths are powerful things. Word of mouth has given us some of the most beautiful pieces of literature and history and religion that we know. But meh. This one just irks me since no one seems to know that it's all legend and no fact.

Someone famous, and I was close by!

Folks, I just stood in the vicinity of greatness. I present to you, the woman, the myth, the legend, Madeleine Albright (nee Marie Jana Korbelová).

The legend was at the University of Chicago Barnes and Noble bookstore signing copies of her book, Memo to the President Elect. I couldn't bring myself to buy the book, so instead of getting an autograph, I went and stood, paparazzi-style, and snapped some photos.

Daily Dose!

I'm not much on feminism or "women power" as it were. Not sure why or how precisely I never really connected, but I really like today's Daily Dose from Chabad.org. (Not that the daily dose has to do with feminism, but you know what I mean.)

Female Redeeming Power

By Tzvi Freeman

When you look carefully into the story of the Exodus, you see that the true redeeming force was the faith of the women.

Today, history is repeating itself.

Oy! A woman rabbi!? You must be meshuggenah!

I'd wanted to find a way to work this into the Jewsbychoice.org blog, but I couldn't think of the right way to do it, and I didn't want to push it. I had wanted to go on the angle that I have a lot of pride for my Jewishness because of its ready acceptance to change and progressiveness (though I'm sure there will be a lot of people would disagree with me and say that I'm absolutely insane, but seriously folks, Judaism was the first organized religion to welcome GLBTs and women into ordination ...).

So with that, I present to you Regina Jonas, an Orthodox Jew growing up in a Berlin slum in the 10s, 20s, 30s and 40s. What makes her special, though? She was THE FIRST WOMAN RABBI ... in the history of time ... as we know it. Now, people will say, what about Sally Preisand? Ordained in the 1970s in the U.S.? Wasn't she the first? Nada, nope, niet. Sally holds the honor of being the first female rabbi ordained in the U.S., but she's often considered the first woman, period. There is another woman -- Regina Jonas -- who seems to have fallen through the cracks of history, after her death in Auschwitz in 1944.

I happ'd upon this while looking for some books on Rashi's daughters on Amazon.com. I noticed a book, "Fraulein Rabbiner Jonas: The Story of the First Woman Rabbi," by Elisa Klapheck. I had never heard of this Jonas woman and started searching the web. I then wondered ... how the heck did I miss this woman? How did I miss a woman being ordained in Germany in the 1930s? How did I miss this!? I'm astounded by this woman, though, because she managed to surpass the acceptance of a woman into ordination in any organized group. It would be another 40 years until another woman was ordained.

Shocked at my own ignorance, I searched out Rabbi Regina Jonas and found out the following: She was Orthodox, and maintained her Orthodox observance, even as she was ordained by a Liberal (what the Orthodox called Reform) rabbi in 1935, several years after she'd gotten her certificate to teach Jewish studies and Hebrew. Her thesis, tellingly, was "Can a Woman Be a Rabbi According to Halachic Sources?" which I hope to be able to find, though I don't know that it's possible.

See, the reason Rabbi Jonas was a ghost for so long was that she died in the Holocaust and those Liberal rabbis and scholars who KNEW her, knew her work in the concentration camps (she gave lectures in the camps, which are still on file there), those who prized her work and friendship ... were mute. Leo Baeck, a very well known Jewish scholar who survived the camps, neglected to ever mention Regina Jonas. Why? WHY? Was it because she was a woman? Or was it because she was part of the past -- that part of life before and during the Holocaust? Either way, I find it inexcusable and frustrating. Her existence was only acknowledged when her certificates of ordination were found in 1991 in an archive in Berlin, put there by another scholar who Jonas had entrusted with the documents.

It was not until 1995 that another woman was ordained in Germany.

Jonas is an inspiration, not only because she was the first female rabbi, but because she was absolutely determined. Her father passed away when she was very young, and her mother and her moved near an Orthodox shul, where the rabbi took her under his wing, teaching her all she needed to know. Her passion was outstanding and no one questioned her motives or drive, and after years of trying and trying to become ordained, she achieved that goal. Then the Nazis came to power, sent her away, and killed her at the age of 42.

Here is to you, Rabbi Regina Jonas, for all that you did, all that you set in motion, and all that we hopefully can and will learn for you. May your name be a blessing. Amen.

Some resources (web resources, of course, can be taken with a grain of salt, but taken none the less):
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/pages/ShArt.jhtml?itemNo=431619
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Regina_Jonas
http://www.hagalil.com/deutschland/berlin/rabbiner/jonas.htm
http://faculty.smcm.edu/kvonkellenbach/jonas.htm
http://www.brightonandhoveprosynagogue.org.uk/sermon-regina-jones.htm