Jews Are Not a Monolith

Back in 2019, Delish shared a coffee-and-cream colors chart. At some point, it was used to display the various colors of Indigenous peoples as a way of saying, "Indigenous people are not a monolith."

Now, here I am, using this clever image to say, "Jews are not a monolith." 

When I converted on January 1, 2010, I claimed my place among the Jewish people. I acknowledged the Jewish neshama (soul) that I was born with and set it free to grow and expand. 

Interestingly, while I was living the life of a Torah-observant Jew prior to my conversion and for a long time after my conversion, people were always surprised by me. 

"No Jews in your family? Well, you pass so easily!" 

"You look so Jewish, though! Pale skin, dark hair ..." 

"Are you sure there are no Jews in your family tree? You look more Jewish than some Jews!"

And I got this from Jews and non-Jews alike ... all because the assumption that all Jews are light skinned with dark hair because that's the stereotype. And for the longest time, I had such pride in the fact that I could easily pass when so many other converts I knew couldn't. 

Why? I was never questioned who I was or what I believed or how I observed. The only hiccups came (and continue to come) when people start playing Jewish geography. Only then does my past as a mildly non-denominational Midwestern Christian trickle out. 

But the reality? Jews come in all colors. I may pass because of stereotypes of what a Jew looks like, but there is no one way a Jew should or can look. 

And that's the post. Shabbat Shalom!

Let's Talk About Conversion to Judaism and Whether a Conversion Can Be Revoked

Photo by Benny Rotlevy

For converts to Judaism, one of the ongoing topics that crops up every now and again is the risk of having their conversion question, revoked, canceled, or retracted after the fact. There is a lot of hype and misinformation on this topic, especially in recent years as Israel and Diaspora rabbinic courts vie for control over the challenging, confusing, and often mysterious world of conversion to Judaism. 

How a Person Converts to Judaism

There are a multitude of paths for conversion to Judaism, no matter whether that conversion is through a Reform, Conservative, or Orthodox bet din (rabbinical court). There are even more reasons that someone chooses to convert to Judaism: 

• They grew up in a Jewish neighborhood or surrounded by Jews and felt a pull to join the Jewish people. 
• They discover they have Jewish ancestors and feel the pull to realize their ethnic and ancestral religion and people. 
• They have a Jewish father but not a Jewish mother and want to be part of the Orthodox community (patrilineal Jews are not considered halachic Jews in Orthodox Judaism and in some Conservative circles).
• They have no connection and don't know a single Jew but learn about Judaism and feel like they're finally at home (hey, this is what happened to me!). 

No matter what draws an individual to Judaism or what stream of Judaism they choose, there are basic steps to complete the conversion process:

• Learning: studying the laws, traditions, holidays, observances of Judaism based on whichever movement an individual chooses to convert within
• Living in the Jewish community: most Orthodox conversions require that you live within a community for at least a year so you experience the full cycle of holidays and the Orthodox lifestyle
• Bet din: meeting with a rabbinic court whose members' statuses vary from movement to movement, as some require three Shabbat-observant men while others simply require three individuals be they men or women (I had four rabbis on my bet din!)
• Brit Milah or hatafat dam brit: for men, an actual or symbolic circumcision is required by some movements and not by others
• Mikvah: a dip in the ritual bath is standard among all movements

Fun fact: When the Temple still stood in Jerusalem, conversion also included an animal sacrifice (Keritot 8b-9a)! Makes you wonder if, when the Temple is rebuilt, whether that requirement will be re-upped, right?

The Controversy About Converting to Judaism

Among the many difficulties with conversion to Judaism are the realities that Orthodox Judaism does not accept conversions that take place in Reform, Conservative, or other movements as halachic (legally binding).

The reasoning behind this is that conversion to Judaism, according to Orthodoxy, requires the basic commitment to the mitzvot (613 commandments of the Torah). Non-Orthodox streams of Judaism do not adhere strictly to following the mitzvot, so Rabbis Moshe Feinstein and Yaakov Ariel argued that non-Orthodox conversions are unacceptable according to halacha. 

There are also many complexities involved with the Orthodox conversion process, with standards varying from community to community. Some Orthodox rabbinic courts will accept conversion for marriage, while others will turn away an individual based on the desire to convert to marry a Jew (this goes back to the Talmud, Yevamot 24b).

For all intents and purposes, someone who converts with an Orthodox rabbinic court is fully and completely a Jew from the moment they visit the mikvah at the culmination of the conversion process. They're even considered a Jew if it turns out they did marry strictly for marriage or they stray from Judaism later. In the latter case, the individual should be treated as any other sinning Jew (Bechorot 30b).

However, in recent years there have been cases in which a conversion or a series of conversions performed by a certain bet din or rabbi are called into question. In these cases, an authoritative body has gone through the process of "reviewing" the conversion to determine whether it is, in fact, halachically valid.

The problem with this, unfortunately, is that — according to halacha (law) — only in very specific cases can a conversion be questioned and revoked. In many of these investigations, there is no grounds for an investigation, let alone talk of revocation.

Modern Cases About Revoking Conversions

Up until Emancipation (late 18th to late 19th century) and well into the 20th century, conversion to Judaism was rare and largely unheard of because, in many places, it was illegal to convert to Judaism. In most cases, a non-Jew converted to Judaism in order to marry a Jewish person, but, even still, it was rare. 

Following the Holocaust, conversion to Judaism blossomed and has continued to gain steam well into the 21st century, especially within Orthodox Judaism.

The entire issue of modern conversion nullification has an interesting background that stems from a revocation of a conversion 30 years after the fact so that two individuals with questionable Jewish legal status could legally marry. You can read more about this in the Rabbi Goren case.

Then, in the 1970s, Rabbi Betzalel Zolty nullified a conversion after the rabbinic court discovered that a certain group of individuals were Christian missionaries trying to move to Israel under the Law of Return. Rabbi Yisrael Rozen nullified a conversion after the Israel Interior Ministry found out that a convert was romantically involved with a non-Jewish woman during and after his conversion process.

In 2008 in Israel, a senior rabbinic court headed by Rabbi Avraham Sherman nullified a single conversion performed by a different Israeli rabbinic court. This nullification called into question thousands of conversions performed within the context of the Israeli army and began an investigation into conversion courses established by Israel and overseen by Rabbi Chaim Druckman.

So can you revoke a conversion or not?

Ultimately, the law on conversions and annulment is such:

• If an individual converts under non-ideal circumstances (e.g., for marriage), he or she is still Jewish and the conversion is valid (Yevamot 24b). 
• If an individual converts and sins or strays from the path of Judaism, he or she is still Jewish and the conversion is valid (Bechorot 30b,Yoreh De'ah 248:2). 
• If the rabbinic court fails to investigate the intentions of the convert or even failed to give the individual a proper education prior to the conversion, he or she is still Jewish and the conversion is valid (Yoreh De'ah 248:12). 

The only way that a conversion can be nullified is in cases of fraud. In these types of cases, the individual converting knowingly misleads the rabbinic court regarding their intent to convert. Usually, these types of cases involve Christian missionaries attempting to convert for nefarious reasons, such as moving to Israel under the Law of Return to do missionary work. Talk about shady!

Although there are plenty of terrifying cases that have created uncomfortable situations for converts around the world in recent years, it is very rare and, in fact, highly unlikely that a conversion can or will be revoked.

Yes, plenty of conversions are questioned regularly by individuals who do not know the laws of conversion and how to treat a convert. In these cases, an individual may stray from Judaism following a conversion or do something that calls their knowledge/commitment to Judaism into question. 

But questioning a conversion and nullifying a conversion, are two very different things.

Have questions about converting to Judaism? Let me know! I'm here to help. 

For more about the topic of the nullifying of conversions, check out Shlomo Brody's A Guide to the Complex: Contemporary Halakhic Debates and read Rabbi Gil Student's article "Conservative Annulments."

Thoughts on Being the Jewish Convert Mom

Almost suddenly, I've realized that where I thought I was empty, I'm full. My point of view here on the blog was once as a woman going through a conversion, then as a Jewish woman navigating life as a convert, navigating life as a divorced convert, navigating life as an Israeli, navigating life as a mom ... and now?

Now I'm navigating life as a Jewish woman watching her children grow up in a completely different universe than the one she grew up in.

Every day I realize how completely and utterly unprepared I am for parenting Jewish children, but I also realize how lucky I am being able to watch my kids grow up with the gift of being members of Am Yisrael. I came late to my destiny, they'll grow up knowing theirs.

Here's to another adventure!

Conversion, Genetics, and my 23andMe Story

This might be my longest posting gap ... ever. I haven't posted in two months. The excuse? Honestly, I don't know. I have three days a week to myself, where I drown myself in the part-time work I have and running errands against the clock before kids come home and my level of energy for the day crashes at crazy fast rates.

Sigh.

But here I am. Inspired, just a little, to say something. I got a notification from 23andMe.com, where I got some genetic testing done a few months back, to participate in a storytelling mission. Although they didn't accept my story, I thought y'all might want to read the short story I wrote about why I sprang for the 23andMe adventure.

The greatest impetus for me to do 23andMe was to find out if I had any Jewish ancestry, because I chose more than 10 years ago to journey into becoming a Jew. I converted to Judaism, and like many converts, I was immensely curious whether there was a hidden and lost thread of Jewish history in my family background that was trying to peek out through me. For many converts, finding that thread validates their choice to take the complicated and emotional path into conversion. I had done my family's genealogy and found lineage back to the 1700s on both sides thanks to my uncle being Mormon and there being massive research already done on my family. But despite my deepest digging, I only found one mysterious relative who was Polish, and I thought "maybe this is the connection to Ashkenazic Jewry I'm looking for.

Then I got my test results back. Not a lick of Jewish ancestry! As I suspected from my research, lots of British, French, and German in my background, but that's about it. I am, through and through, European, but not Ashkenazic in my genetic background.

In one sense, I was disappointed. I had hoped to find that thread, to know that I had picked up the thread. In another sense, I was proud to know that my compulsion to convert to Judaism and become a member of the Jewish people was truly authentic, completely my own. That it arose out of a place hidden for thousands and thousands of years, as the Jewish tradition says that every soul that converts stood at Sinai and accepted Torah. So, it appears my soul was there. But my ancestors were not. 

And that, friends, is my 23andMe story.

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Additionally, although I didn't say it above, my secondary reason for doing 23andMe was because I was hoping to find maybe some weird genetic marker for an illness or disease, something with insight into what my father has been dealing with for the past several years that remains undiagnosed. Alas, no major markers for any of the diseases or illnesses they catalog. Aside from being prone to being overweight, my genes are pretty good to go.

So, if you'd like to hop on the 23andMe bandwagon and see what your genetics have in store, click here and get a kit (referral link). Then, let me know what you find out!

Stuff People Say to Converts

This video is overly long, and the viral nature of these videos passed a few years ago, but, I've gotten probably 80% of these comments at some point so I feel like it's worth sharing. And you?

The Tzniut Project 2.0: Covering the Outside to Let the Inner Light Shine

This is the first in the Women's Edition of a series called The Tzniut Project 2.0. For the Women's Edition, women from a variety of backgrounds with a variety of observances have volunteered to anonymously answer questions that I have written about their practices, people's assumptions, and more. For more information on origins the project, click here. 

Please continue to check back with The Tzniut Project to read more stories and comment abundantly! For the Men's Edition, pop over here.

Note: This post is contributed by a reader in France whose first language is not English. I did my best to create clarity and provide translations where necessary, without detracting from the reader's original thoughts. 

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1. How do you affiliate Jewishly? Feel free to elaborate on the words people use to describe you and the words you use to describe yourself. If you feel comfortable letting the audience know the city/region where you live, please include that, too. 
I am a granddaughter of a German Jew, but I am now currently living in France. It’s a difficult family story, my Grandma lost (or let disappear?) all the Jewish documents and survived the war by being hidden in an orphanage near [Nuremberg, Germany] and by being qualified as “Lutheran Evangelical” by an Lutheran pastor before the war. There are very good people everywhere.

But now this means that I have to make a formal giur (conversion) because of the lost documents. Strange situation, more than 70 years after the war: Being jewish but needing to convert to myself ... Well ... I am Jewish because I have Jewish blood and I come from a Jewish family, documents only will make it “official” but won’t change my personality. I am on my way to this, even if it’s very difficult. I am in an Orthodox shul (synagogue).

2. I say modesty or tzniut … what does that mean to you? 
It means being a Jewish princess for my dear husband! It means covering the body in order to preserve it for the most intimate relationship with the most important person in my life. It means covering the outside to let shine the inner light that G-d gave me. It means disagreeing with the actual “standards of fashion,” which uncover the body.

For me, covering my elbows, my knees, my collarbone and my hair is a “protest” against it, because uncovering the woman does not mean freedom, it means being a “prisoner from animal instincts," it makes the woman an object. I am telling the surrounding world that if they want to know me, they have to go a little bit further than just the outside. I am a soul that lives in a body, not a just body (feminism on this point!)!

3. Growing up, did your mother or grandmother (or any other female role models in your life) dress modestly in any way? Do you think modesty was something instilled in you by your family? Did you dress modestly growing up?
Yes, my mother was very careful in dressing us when we were children. There was no way we would wear miniskirts! Pants were not forbidden, but chosen so that there were not like “leggings." In fact, I think that some pants are more covering then skirts with a regular tzniut-length, but too tight! But for me, I don’t have pants any more because I chose it. I am wearing skirts and dresses, and I kept just a sport pant to go to the physiotherapist.

4. Are you married? How does your spouse feel about your choices for modest dress? Is it a dialogue or does your partner leave the mitzvah to you? 
Yes, I am married. My husband agrees with my tzniut-length dresses and is very proud of it because he feels [it makes him a] very special person: the one who has the privilege to “be mine” (Ani le dodi vedodi li -- "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.").

It’s not a matter of being proud, it’s a matter of love! He is very sweet and quite often goes shopping for me (because I don’t have so much time because of my job)! When he comes back with a skirt or a shirt, it’s my turn to feel very special, because I feel [sic] wearing clothes full of love and attention of my dearest one!

5. What do you wear on a typical day? On Shabbat? If you dress differently on weekdays and Shabbat, why do you make this distinction and how?
I am kind of a “positive gothic Jew." [Let me] explain: I [frequently wear] “Victorian gothic dresses." I love black lace everywhere! But [without] the skulls and other death-like elements (I have NOTHING like that, so that’s why I told that I am a “positive goth”). My favorite go-to combination:

A black pashmina tichel (head scarf) + red rose sash on black background + sparkling headband + red flower tichel pin or black lace tickle [with] matching earrings [and a] black victorian dress with a black shirt + grey tights with black roses and Doc Marten Vonda Boots! Perfect! Oh, I forgot: an antique-styled magen David (star of David) necklace. And soft gothic-like makeup.

On Shabbat? Quite the same without makeup (not on Shabbos!) Sometimes I switch to a white lace dress with colored shirts (yes it happens!). Then: matching tichels, pearls ... but I often can’t just quit my Doc Martens!

I guess the main difference [between Shabbat and the rest of the week] is: makeup during the week, no makeup during Shabbos. Maybe I wear more sparkling stuff during Shabbos (shimmery tichels and so on…).

6. What do you think other people (Jewish and non-Jewish) infer from your clothing and hair covering choices? Has anyone ever said anything to you outright that expresses a judgment based on your appearance? (Ex: “You don’t cover your hair or wear skirts, so why do you keep kosher?”). 
I keep tzniut and kosher, so no judgment based on this. Actually I received A LOT of compliments about my tichels from Jewish and non-Jewish people. I am a German teacher, [there is] no dress-code at school, and I am still a student: no dress-code here either. I have no fear about looking “other” than “regular fashion standards."

I am how I am, and as long as I stay within the tzniut-line, it’s ok. People who don’t like gothic style still respect my taste because it’s just me.

My credo: I have just one life to live. “Be yourself, everybody else is already taken!” Once I heard this quote, I felt free to express myself, and as long as I am not hurting anybody, it’s ok! That’s how I came out with my “positive gothic but still tzniut fashion”.

7. Have you ever surprised someone by dressing more or less modestly and making them rethink their stereotypes about what it means to be an observant Jew? 
Yes, of course, see the answer just above! I am the only one at shul like this! And yes, at shul, there are a few women that cover their hair just for Shabbos, but when they saw me with tichels on a daily base, they asked me where I learned to tie them. So I could give them some advice and YouTube videos, which were helpful to me. This was a great privilege for me!

8. When you see someone who observes tzniut differently than you, what are your initial thoughts? How do you deal with them? Is there any particular aspect of tzniut that you see other people observing or practicing that you struggle with? 
As long as it is tzniut, I am happy to find new ideas of style, of colour combinations that I can try myself! It makes me happy because it shows that tzniut is a wide concept in which everybody’s personality can fit in in terms of style and find a beautiful way to express the true “me”.

I particularly struggle with sheitels. I just can’t stand that principle, I actually never could, I have to be honest. First of all because I don’t understand the principle to hide your hair with someone’s [else's] hair: strange that I don’t show my hair so I show my neighbour’s one ... Even if it’s hair from India, our planet is so small that we are all neighbours! If it’s a synthetic sheitel, it may be less strange, but still ... Second because my sister had cancer (B"H she is fine now), but I saw her wearing a sheitel during chemo, which was the most difficult time I had in my life: to be at her side but not being able to take a little bit of pain from her. When I see a sheitel, I remember chemo, and it’s just too painful for me – but this is a personal reason I still have to overcome (even if I don’t judge women who wear sheitels because they are used to it, I am not here to try to convert anybody to “ticheling”!).

9. Please include any additional details or thoughts you have here. 
Tzniut is not a frame where you are not free to express yourself. [On the contrary,] it sets just some healthy limits on how much body to show. Keeping it covered makes it more beautiful. Showing too much makes the body depreciated, people think, "Oh, it’s just a piece of body more” [sic] and lose respect before you. Keeping it more “secret” has the consequence [of people looking] in your eyes, which are the windows to your soul, so tzniut is a channel that allows the inner “me” to come out much better!

It shows that a woman can dress beautifully with dignity. Don’t worry about what people will say, if you respect yourself, they will respect you. Tzniut, and especially tichels, make me a visible carrier of Jewish values. It gives me a huge responsibility because when people see me, they look at me and see a Jewish woman “in action."

This is a chance to spread light, love, and warmth to a world that needs it like never before. Even if it’s just a smile to somebody on the street. So don’t worry, be Jewish!

Lech Lecha: Chaviva and Avram

Terach left with Sarai, Avram, and Lot to go to Ca'anan, mostly because it was his dead son's inherited land. So they left but stopped along the way.

Then HaShem speaks to Avram, tells him to Lech Lecha -- go forth, to yourself. Avram leaves with Sarai and Lot and heads to Ca'anan, fulfilling the original destination goal. It's there that HaShem promises so much to Avram and his future offspring.

So essentially, the first bit of the journey was not enough and HaShem and to tell Avram to keep going. Would he have gone on his own? Would he have stayed with his father?

The truth is, I feel like this about my journey and my conversion.

I found and began my Jewish journey in the Reform movement of Judaism around 2002/2003 and after much teeth grinding and examination of myself, who I was, and where I was going, wound my way through other branches of Judaism until I landed at the doorsteps of Orthodoxy in 2008.

That first leg of the journey was like leaving my land with Terach and heading toward the land of my inheritance -- Judaism.

The second leg was HaShem telling me to go further, to go forth to who I was truly meant to be. To embrace that person I was.

I feel a bit like Avram. But only a bit.

Thoughts on Lech Lecha

This week's Torah portion is Lech Lecha, which is a banner portion for converts everywhere. While prepping for this week's women's learning group, I happened upon this bit of wisdom from Rabbi Sholom Dover of Lubavitch via Chabad.org.

From the time that G-d said to our father Abraham, "Go from your land..." and "Abraham went on, journeying southward", began the process of birurim -- of extracting the sparks of holiness that are scattered throughout the universe and buried within the material existence. 

By the decree of Divine providence, a person wanders about in his travels to those places where the sparks that are to be extracted by him await their redemption. The Cause of All Causes brings about the many circumstances and pretexts that bring a person to those places where his personal mission in life is to be acted out.

It makes me think that perhaps this is why I've lived in at least 13 cities and had more than 25 addresses in my lifetime.

Wandering Jew that I am, perhaps when I ask, "What exactly do you have in store for me, G-d?" the answer is staring me right in the face.

Taking Submissions: Top Judaism Rumors and Conversion Myths

Do you have a pet peeve when it comes to rumors about Judaism? Do the "hole in a sheet" or "Jews have horns" myths drive you absolutely nuts? Share your favorite rumors about Judaism with me in the comments!

Also, if there are myths about conversion to Judaism and Jewish converts, share those, too. I'm working on a few articles for About.com, and I want to pick your brain (it's called crowdsourcing, because you, my readers, are amazing).

Want to check out some of my recent articles? Here you go:

• What's a segulah?
• The Top 5 Most Misunderstood Things About Judaism
• Jews and Shoes (Davening Barefoot)
• Judaism's Views on Suicide

Ready? Set? Submit your pet peeves and kvetch at me!

Ask Chaviva Anything: Conversion and the First Beth Din Meeting

Ah -- that breath of fresh air! It's time for the first installment in the new and improved ...

This question asks:

"I have my first meeting with the Beis Din this week, and I am super nervous! Any advice?"

That first beis din (also beit din, or rabbinical court) meeting can be a serious nightmare. Or, rather, it can feel like it's going to be a nightmare, and afterwards you might be kicking yourself for every little hesitation or self-questioning moment you experienced. Chances are you'll feel like you've failed, no matter how much you jazzed the rabbis with your knowledge of kashrut (Jewish dietary laws) or brachot (prayers). There's something about the process that is made to knock you down rather than build you up, for some reason. I don't think it's meant to be part of the process, but it just works out that way.

So how do you prepare for that first meeting? One word: Confidence.

If you go into the first meeting with unwavering confidence that you know your stuff, that you're confident in your choice to formally become Jewish, that you're knowledgeable and prepared to take on all of the mitzvoth (commandments) necessary, then it will show. The rabbis are looking for someone who can handle the pressures of both the process and what happens after you convert, which can be traumatizing if you're not prepared (rejection by family for converting, rejection by other Jews who don't think converts are sincere, bullying by other converts trying to protect their own skin by making other converts look bad, and so on).

Practically speaking, it helps to have some of the brachot memorized (especially the ones on food, the shema, and other daily blessings) and to have a few anecdotes about any learning you've already done, books you're reading, and to know your own personal journey to Judaism according to how you've written it down for the beit din. Be sure to also be able to explain any inconsistencies or questionable things like if you're dating a Jew, if you have a parent who is Jewish, if you've visited Israel, if you grew up in a Messianic movement, and so on. Those are the tough questions you're going to want to be prepared for!

Just stay true to yourself, be honest with the rabbis about where you are and how much you know, and also be sure to ask questions! Be curious, be passionate, and be confident.

Have a question? Ask away! You can also read about my first visit to the beth din right here on the blog.

Shemot, Rachav, and Jericho

I'm really disappointed in myself for forgetting one of the most important parshiyot in the narrative that is my life -- Shemot, last week's parshah.

Why is it so significant? Three years ago I completed my Orthodox conversion on January 1, and after I converted friends threw me a bit of a "congratulatory" Shabbat dinner in West Hartford. At that dinner, I gave a d'var Torah on Shemot. Oddly enough, this past week I was in Mitzpeh Yericho for Shabbat with Mr. T and his son staying with some very, very good friends, and only after I got home and pulled up this d'var Torah did I realize how even more appropriate the d'var really was.

It begins like this, addressing the fact that the verb tzade-pey-nun appears in this form only twice in the entire Tanakh.

In this week’s parshah, sh’mot, Moses is born during a dangerous time in which Pharaoh has forgotten Joseph and the Israelites. Moses’ mother, fearing for his life, hides him – specifically, the text says, “and she hid him” or (ותצפנהו) – which has an interesting parallel that I’d like to share with you. 

In the book of Joshua, there is an incident – a very important incident – in which Rachav (Rahab), a harlot living in Jericho, hides Joshua’s spies from certain death. In the incident, in Joshua 2, Rachav is said to hide the spies when the king comes looking for them. Specifically, it says (ותצפנו), or “and she hid the men.”

The d'var goes on to compare the experience of the Infant Moshe to the Infant Israel in Joshua, citing Rachav's direct quotation of Moshe in Deuteronomy 4:39. The d'var goes on to discuss converts, the power of the convert, and why HaShem holds the convert so close.

From Numbers Rabbah 8:2, the midrash says,

“Why does the Holy Blessed One love the righteous (referring to a discussion of converts being loved as the righteous)? Because they have neither inheritance nor family. Priests and Levites have an ancestral house, as it says, “House of Aaron, praise the Lord. House of Levi, praise the Lord” (Psalms 146:19). If someone wants to be a kohen or levite, one cannot because one’s father was not. But if someone wants to be righteous, even a non-Jew can, since that is not dependent on ancestry.”

The midrash continues with a parable about the stag that attaches itself to the king’s flock. Daily, the king instructs his shepherds to take care of the stag, and they ask the king why he cares so much about this one animal:

"The king responded, 'The other animals have no choice; whether they want or not, it is their nature to graze in the field all day and to come in to sleep in the fold. Stags, however, sleep in the wilderness. It is not in their nature to come into places inhabited by man. Is it not to a sign of this one's merit that he has left behind the whole of the wilderness to stay in our courtyard?' In like manner, ought we not to be grateful to the proselyte who has left behind his family and his relatives, his nation and all the other nations of the world, and has chosen to come to us?"

It's a beautiful sentiment. And it's one that so many Jews grow up with -- "love the ger" -- and one that so many people misunderstand or don't know how to properly put into place. It doesn't just mean "be nice," but so much more including "don't embarrass the convert" and "don't blow their cover" and "if you're hozer b'teshuva or ba'alei teshuva understand that the narratives are very different" and "hey converts don't bully other converts." The midrash spends a great deal of time elucidating the merits of converts like Ruth and Rachav, not to mention discussing just how precious they are in the eyes of HaShem.

So I'm a week late on the parshah, but that doesn't mean the message and lesson aren't incredibly valuable and worth a read and consideration.

A Little Inspiration

"It takes tremendous battle to merit being able to have a true geirus and return to kedushah; it is comparable to the war against Amalek." 

Likutey Halachos, Btzias HaPas 5:47 

Perhaps I should change the name of this blog, Just Call Me Chaviva, Warrior Giyoret!

Bad Decisions: A Response

I don't know where to begin this blog post.

I feel violated, torn, and like the institution that I've always taken such great pride in being a part of -- journalism -- really let me down. Someone I worked with ages ago at The Washington Post decided to write an article about me, my conversion, and the tumult I was in while I was dating a non-Jew during my out-of-body experience in late 2011/early 2012. After I broke up with said non-Jew and focused all of my energy on tons of teshuva and then aliyah, I found out the article was being updated and finally going to print. So there was updating, fact checking, and all of that jazz.

Then the article came out.

For the first time since my marriage collapsed, I'm heart broken. Truly heart broken.

So I'm not posting it here, and I'm going to ask that if you have read the article also not to post it here. In my opinion, it amounts to lashon hara, a lack of fact checking, and a tone that is bad for converts.

Also? It contains some of the most personal information about my life that I've never blogged about, for good reason. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to share the intimate details of my upbringing. But one friend put it appropriately: The writer abused my intimacy.

There are a few blatant errors in this article that I want to correct. I'll post those portions here, because it's relevant. Here are the corrections.

I was not searching for a "new family." I was searching for a place to belong, like everyone does. I did not grow up in near-poverty. My family -- like all families -- have rough patches. I did not start working to loan my parents money. I started working so I could buy the things that I wanted to that my parents could no longer afford.

"So years later, when she learned in a Jewish history course at the University of Nebraska that every Jew is considered a son or daughter of Abraham and Sarah, the teachings spoke to her."

This is the cheesiest, most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, and I did not say this, nor is this an accurate assessment of why I came to Judaism. If you're curious how that happened, I can tell you. It's in my conversion essay.

She wanted, she wrote on her blog, "to throw myself into the tidy box of Orthodoxy—Get Married, Move to a Big Orthodox Community, Have Only Orthodox Friends, Dress the Part, Wear the Headcovering, Go to the Mikvah, Live and Breathe the Box of Orthodoxy." She wanted to show converts that they could be just as Orthodox as someone born in Teaneck.

Okay, this falls into the story's narrative of 2010, after I got married. The actual location of this? It came from December 2011 when I was recalling how these were all of the things that I was not comfortable doing. This was me reflecting back -- as a divorcee -- about what that period of my life was like. Mind you, I was recently divorced, and I was going through some crazy reflection and changing. Either way, misquote, wrong place in the narrative, oh dear writer.

Though Orthodox Judaism is officially governed by a handful of Israeli rabbis, their secrecy empowered Chaviva to pass judgment on what it means to be Jewish after just a few years in the faith.

Uh, this sounds very Elders of Zion, doesn't it? Factually incorrect. There is no master body of Orthodox Judaism.

She would watch TV or use the elevator on the Sabbath if Hibbs pressed the buttons.

FALSE. As I told the writer, and I reiterated to the fact checker a dozen times, I never, I repeat never, used the elevator on Shabbat with his assistance. The truth is that most Shabbats that he was around, I didn't leave my apartment. In fact, I didn't leave my apartment much at all on Shabbat -- I was on the seventh floor! The TV watching? I also happened to be in homes on Passover where people had the TV on (Jews, at that). Shocker!

Just under two years after her Orthodox conversion, she removed the word "Orthodox" from the header of her blog, relabeling herself "Underconstructionist."

Um. Let's see. I first blogged about feeling like this term best described me in 2008. In fact, in a blog post from 2009 in which I explain why I'm converting to Judaism, I cite that all Jews should be Underconstructionist.

Sigh. I'm anger and embarrassed and exhausted and frustrated all at once. I feel like this will impact my "sellability" as a wife, mother, and partner. I worry that it will anger family and friends. I worry that it makes me look like someone who is insincere. It brings tears to my heart and a pain to my stomach that I cannot describe in any understood lexicon. 

There are reasons that I don't share with the world what happened in my marriage or how I grew up. There are reasons that intimate details remain intimate. Some people seem to think my entire life is here on this blog, but it isn't. The secret dark and lonely places that I have experienced are not meant for this blog, they're not meant for your eyes and ears. They're mine. And, B"H, some of those things are and will always be quiet, private, my own. And those things, that you all will never know about me could fill libraries, ocean liners, islands. 

I allowed myself to be vulnerable after my divorce. I made some bad choices, and allowing myself to be interviewed for this article was one of them. My ultimate goal now and going forward is to live my life as intentionally as possible. And when I slip up, I evaluate, I do teshuva, and I move forward. It's the only way I can move. 

So judge me if you must. Question my conversion, my commitment, my actions, everything. Whatever you feel like saying or doing, you will. In the end, only HaShem has the right to judge me -- and you.

Big Differences: Ba'alei Teshuva and Converts

I recently received the following email from a blog reader.

...More than once people have drawn the comparison between being a convert and being a BT. I find myself having a hard time explaining the difference to people who cannot relate. My question to you is what is your thoughts on this and if you can help me figure out something smart to say about what makes converts different than BTs.

So for starters, BT stands for ba'alei teshuvah, also known as someone who is born Jewish and either isn't religious and then becomes religious, or is religious, strays, and returns to the religion. 

This is a conversation I have more frequently than I'd like, and it's also one that very rarely has a clean resolve. BTs often feel like they've gone through what a convert has, while converts are often left feeling like BTs and even FFB (frum-from-birth) Jews just "don't get it." In fact, I find it personally frustrating when BTs say that they're also "Jews by Choice." A Jew by birth didn't choose the birthright, it was inherited. A convert chooses to answer the call of the small, still neshamah within. 

So my conversation ender is usually something along the lines of this: 

A born Jew can eat pork one day and have an aliyah the next day. They'll always be Jewish, no matter how far they stray from the path. A convert who has a halachic conversion is held to a "higher standard" that requires a strict adherence to the path. If he or she strays, the entire conversion becomes one big question mark. 

This is something I had cause to deal with earlier this year, as you all know. And I'm sure there are still people who would think twice about having me at their Shabbos table, let alone setting me up with a sibling or cousin. 

I want to emphasize that I'm not saying that BTs or converts are better, holier, or have a more difficult experience than the other. I'm saying they're different. The experiences are different. The outcomes are different. And the struggles are different. 

Whereas a BT might have to deal with a long-secular family thinking they've gone nuts or joined the "dark side," a convert might have an incredibly supportive non-Jewish family that doesn't get it but is willing to support them. On the other hand, a BT might mess up and eat meat and milk together and people will chock it up to the learning curve while a convert might be told that they clearly had a poor education and aren't committed to the law. It's different. Apples and oranges, folks. 

So what do you think? Is there a magic bullet that separates the BT from the convert? A conversation stopper that says there are differences? 

I'm Published! Sort of.

Wait, what? I didn't write about this? *Hangs her head in shame*

Well, better late than never. You could say that I'm something of a published author now, thanks to the amazing mind behind PunkTorah.org, in Choosing to be Chosen: Essays by Converts to Judaism!

Choosing To Be Chosen is the first anthology by converts to Judaism from the PunkTorah/OneShul community. From Orthodox to Reform, LGBT and straight, from funny accidents to times of tragedy, this collection of stories is captivating, personal and inspiring.

If you haven't picked up a copy of the book yet, there are only 25 copies of the book in stock and rumor has it they're almost sold out. So for $13.99 with free shipping, you might as well click here. If you're down with the eBook edition, Choosing to be Chosen also is available on Nook and Kindle for only $6.99!

Also, I just got word that the first proofs are finally out for Dictionary of the Bible and Western Culture, for which I wrote three entries (Mara, Naomi, and Tzippora). So that'll make me dual published, I guess? Or at least, twice contributing author. 

On that note, I'm thinking about taking the much-beloved Tzniut Project and putting it in e-book format and compiling it and throwing up for a very, very small price or donation. What do you think? 

Converts: Like a Skin Lesion

If you haven't purchased Bnei Avraham Ahuvecha: Gerim in Chassidic Thought. Do it. Seriously. Stop fiddling and twiddling and get inspired, please? I'm going to highlighting something interesting that I read in this book off and on, and I hope it encourages you to get a copy of your own.

There is a common statement from our Sages that raises a lot of eyebrows. In Tractate Niddah 13b, Rashi attempts to explain this passage, but let's be honest, he doesn't really make things any better.

'Gerim are as difficult for the Jewish people as sapachas' (קשים גרים לישראל כספחת) because [being as they weren't raised as Jews] they are not sufficiently knowledgeable of G-d's commandments, and this lack of meticulousness can bring punishments to the Jewish people -- moreover, they can negatively influence the Jewish population in general.

Well, tell us how you really feel! And in case you're wondering what sapachas is, it's a type of pesky skin lesion. Then, in Tosafot, commenting on Yevamos 47b, it says,

"Gerim are as difficult fo rthe Jewish people as sapachas because they are not knowledgeable in the details of the commandments, and the Jewish people learn from their actions."

Still, not feeling the love here. It's important to understand that there is an idea in Chassidus that after Mashiach comes, there will be no more gerim. Why? The understanding is that only a sincere convert will go through geirus during a time of crisis and persecution. But when things are good for the Jews, people want to take part (just think of the Esther story) in that mazal. Thus, once Mashiach arrives, the doors of conversion are closed for business. I encourage you to jump in while the water is hot and oppressive.

So the question is: Why would Rashi and Tosafot speak so poorly of gerim during the times in which they were living? After all, HaShem demands love and acceptance for the ger, right?

In comes a contradictory explanation from Tosafot in Tractate Kiddushin 70b:

Rabbi Avraham Ger explained that gerim are as difficult for the Jewish people as sapachas because they are fastidious in their observance of the commandments and knowledgeable in the details surrounding them -- which causes G-d to remember the transgressions of those Jewish people who are not performing his will.

If there were a giant "like" button floating over that quote, I'd hope that all of you would smack it until your keyboard-poking finger was bleeding. Although the various renditions of this that I've read in this book don't cite it, I'd have to say that this ties in very closely with what the midrash has to say about Rachav (my favorite convert) and how her actions of identifying HaShem as the one and only, repentance, and geirus were reflected later in the life of her descendent the prophet Jeremiah. In Pesikta de Rav Kahana, Divrei Yirmiyahu 13:5, it says,

“The son of the corrupted one who mended her ways will come and reproach the son of the fit one who had gone astray.” 

Also in Pesikta de Rav Kahana, Divrei Yirmiyahu 13:4 it goes so far as to say that whatever was written in Israel's honor was written in Rahav's praise. Just check out the juxtaposition of these:

It is written of Rahab (Josh. 2:12): “Now, since I have shown loyalty to you, swear to me by the Lord.” And of Israel (Jer. 5:2): “They are sure to be swearing falsely." It is written of Rahab (Josh. 2:13): “that you will spare the lives of my father and mother.” And of Israel (Ezek. 22:7): “Fathers and mothers have been humiliated within you."

Thus, I think that the contradictory statement of the Tosafot is probably running with the right message. If not because of the Rachav connection and what the Rabbis had to say about geirus, then perhaps this approach from Bo M'Ephrosa, Parshas Tazria, Shalosh Seudos 5771 will sparkle your fancy:

A sapachas develops on the flesh in order to awaken one to return to G-d, and if, G-d forbid, the individual does not heed the message, he can bring great suffering on himself. Similarly, gerim are to awaken the Jewish people to serve G-d with fiery enthusiasm and meticulous observance of the Torah's commandments. They cause those born jewish to follow their good example and fulfill the commandments with an uplifted soul and not out of habit or rote. If, G-d forbid, those born Jewish do not take inspiration from their example, this can cause great accusations to be brought against them Above. The Sages taught that because Hillel was poor, a poor man could not use poverty as an excuse for not learning Torah. Rabbi Elzar ben Charsom was rich, so a rich man could use his wealth as an excuse. Joseph was able to control his passions, so even the wicked are obligated to do likewise. In the same manner, gerim obligate those born Jewish to act as they should. 

Loads of heavy responsibility rests on the shoulders of the ger, whether we know it, like it, or want it. Stay tuned for some more beautiful morsels on Gerim in Chassidic Thought -- including birthdays. Yes, birthdays. For gerim, it's a perplexing question of what to celebrate. 

New Book on Conversion!

I'm so, so excited to announce the release of A Simple Jew's Bnei Avraham Ahuvecha: Gerim in Chassidic Thought!

This book will enthusiastically be sought after by Jews who were not born Jewish, and those on the path to becoming Jewish. It has received glowing approbations from the Sudilkover Rebbe, Bostoner Rebbe, Hornsteipler Rebbe, Rabbi Yitzchok Meir Morgenstern, Rabbi Dovid Meisels, and Rabbi Lazer Brody.

Unlike numerous books already published in English on conversion to Judaism, this book is not a personal narrative, how-to manual, digest of relevant laws, or academic historical overview. This book presents the story behind the story - the mystical teachings found within Chassidic literature that illuminate the hidden inner world of the ger.

Until now, these teachings were scattered in an unorganized manner throughout countless volumes and inaccessible to those unfamiliar with the Hebrew language. With this book ... relevant Chassidic teachings are collected, translated from Hebrew into English, organized topically, and further elucidated, when needed. Interspersed with these translated teachings, stories- both old and new - are included to help bring them to life. In addition, this book includes supplementary essays written by Rabbi Chaim Kramer, Rabbi Ozer Bergman, Rabbi Dovid Sears, Rabbi Avraham Chaim Bloomenstiel, and Mrs. Talya Lipshutz (based on conversations with Rav Elazar Mordechai Kenig of Tsfat).

At $14.95 it's a steal on Amazon.com!

Lessons in Jewish Conversion: The Denver and Ne'eman Plans

When I first moved to Denver, I was contacted by all varieties of people detailing the unfortunate (emotionally and financially) situation of conversion in Denver. I wrote about it, and there was a huge outcry in the community that I was both uninformed and out of line. Like any good student, I've spent the past many months educating myself on the Denver situation, and now that I'm not dating a non-Jew and I don't have the intention of dating another non-Jew, I feel like I can put myself back in a place of being a voice. And if not a voice for action, then a voice for education. So I give you a brief history of the infamous Denver Plan.

---

In 1977, two Orthodox rabbis -- Eliezer Berkovitz z"l and Steven Riskin -- came to Denver as speakers in adult education programs. Berkovits, a  professor emeritus of Hebrew Theological College in Chicago, warned the Denver community that the "Who is a Jew?" issue was destroying Jewish unity. Riskin, who later became Shlomo Riskin and served as chief rabbi of Efrat, related passates from the Talmud and Rambam that dealt with conversion's lenient attitude concerning the applicant's commitment to observance of the mitzvoth or commandments. Both considered "mavericks" in the community, they had a great impact on Denver Orthodox Rabbi Stanley Wagner.

Within a few weeks of their talks, Rabbi Wagner called together seven Denver rabbis of all denominations determined to find a way to provide for a single, citywide conversion apparatus. A noble cause, even after the failure of the Denver Plan, Orthodox Rabbi Jerome Lipsitz commented, "Why have two separate types of Jews? ... We want to create a Jew all of us can recognize as a Jew." Clearly the effort was called for, but its basic concepts were set for failure.

The meeting with the rabbis resulted in the Denver Plan comprising the following process:

• potential converts would take a class over several months on the fundamentals of Judaism
• the classes would be taught by rabbis across the denominational spectrum of the Jewish community (let's call this holistic Jewish education)
• after the class, a panel of rabbis representing different movements examined the candidate
• participants would agree to basic Jewish observances (fasting on Yom Kippur, joining a synagogue, lighting candles on Shabbat and holidays) 
• note: dietary laws and "keeping a Jewish household" were mentioned, but not a necessary commitment for conversion -- both practices were left "vague"
• if the panel found the candidate "fit for conversion," a beit din of Traditional rabbis would perform the conversion

A note on the Traditional rabbis. In Pledges of Jewish Allegiance: Conversion, Law, and Policymaking in Nineteenth- and Twentieth-Century Orthodox Responsa, the authors (neither of them Orthodox mind you) emphasize that these were not mainstream Orthodox rabbis. You see, in every version of the Denver Plan that was explained to me, it was Orthodox rabbis performing the conversion in the end. According to the authors, these Traditional rabbis were "Orthodox rabbis whose congregations had adopted more liberal practices, such as the use of microphones on Shabbat, mixed seating, and the like; no mainstream Orthodox rabbi was willing to participate" (117). 

Whoa! Shocker! Okay, I had to regroup after reading this, because my understanding of this groundbreaking plan was that these were mainstream Orthodox rabbis who had agreed to creating a situation of highest-common-denominator conversion practices. Wrong. 

The ultimate failure (which we'll get to) of this program relates to the compromises made by the Traditional rabbis and community regarding the converts' commitments to the mitzvoth. Because of the vagueness of the commitment to the mitzvoth of kashrut and what I understand as taharat ha'mishpacha (such as mikvah), this allowed the Traditional rabbis to approve the conversion. 

By 1982, the Denver Plan was falling apart. Traditional rabbis felt they'd compromised too much, and when, in March of that year the Reform movement recognized patrilineal descent, serious questions were raised as to the viability and sustainability of the program. On June 17, 1983, six years after the initial agreement, the Traditional rabbis withdrew and the Denver Plan was done. 

In its six years, the Denver Plan converted a shocking 750 people. Good. Lord. That's 125 people a year. That makes me wonder -- where are those 750 people today? Are they living Jewishly? Do they still identify as Jews? Has there been any kind of followup with them? And, perhaps most interestingly, how many of the converted to be and remained Orthodox (whatever that means)?

An article in the Intermountain Jewish News brought the largely secretive plan to light, resulting in comments from Harold Jacobs, president of Orthodoxy's American Council of Young Israel, to say, 

We have no choice bu to draw the line, clearly, as to who is a Jew and who is not, as to what limits tand basic standards of elementary Jewish identity and personal conduct we must insist upon. ... It is time that Orthodoxy put the rest of the Jewish community on notice: no longer will 'Jewish unity' be bought at the expense of Jewish identity. For Klal Yisrael today, that is too high a price.

Ouch. Comments from the Jewish Observer were even more blunt.

While compromise for the sake of unity can often make good sense, when dealing with basic principles of faith, 'compromise' is actually a sell-out. ... It is time that all Orthodox rabbis recognize that Reform and Conservative Judaism are far, far removed from Torah, and Klal Yisroel is betrayed -- not served -- when Orthodoxy enters in religious assocaition with them.

What a zinger. The Observer went so far as to warn other communities against this type of "interdenominational cooperation," urging such communities to "step back from the abyss." 

This didn't, of course, stop Bibi Netanyahu from appointing what became known as the Ne'eman Commission in 1997 to develop ideas and proposals regarding religious conversion in Israel in response to the influx of some 700,000 immigrants from Russia and other parts of the Former Soviet Union between 1987 and 1997. Yaakov Ne'eman, an observant Orthodox Jew, was appointed to the head of the commission. After some 70 sessions and 150 hours of deliberations, the committee recommended the

creation of panels of rabbis representing all three movements to prepare the candidates for conversion. The ritual conversion itself would remain within the province of the Orthodox rabbinate alone.

Sound familiar? No surprise here, but the commission's proposal was rejected by the Chief Rabbinate in 1998. 

As far as I know, there were no other attempts either before or after either of these situations to create an interdenominational cooperation for highest-common-denominator (or lowest if you prefer) conversions. The question will always be "is it good for the Jews?" for some and "is it real Judaism?" for others. Asking converts to commit to the mitzvoth before dipping in the mikvah is the crux point of conversion, and an agreement is an agreement. However, if you follow the opinion of some rabbis, what happens after the dip is all on the new Jew. If a convert makes the commitment and decides to live a Reform or Secular Jewish life, then those sins of incomplete commitment are on them -- but they're still Jews.

Note: There have been talks of doing a mass conversion of Russian immigrants in the vein of what it looks like when people take their U.S. citizen oath. I imagine the scene itself would be pretty powerful -- thousands of immigrants who have been living in the Jewish state taking an oath of Jewish citizenship and nationhood. But I'll talk about this some other time. 

Here's to You, Rabbi Goren

Here we go again!

"Israel's High Court affirms thousands of conversions are kosher" 

In case you ever wondered where this whole "let's revoke conversions" thing came from, the story is simple, and it involves the Langer Siblings.

Once upon a time, a non-Jewish Polish man named Borokovsky married a 16-year-old Jewish girl. Her parents pushed the man to convert, and so he did. After several years, the Jewish girl left the Polish man, but she never sought a get. Then, she remarried a Jewish man and they had two children. When those two children born of the second marriage were of marrying age, they filed for marriage licenses, only to be turned down on the grounds that they were mamzerim (bastard children, basically) because this nice Jewish girl didn't bother to get a get.

The case became incredibly popular, pulling in words from Moshe Dayan and Golda Meir.

Oh hello Rabbi Goren. 

What ended up happening is the genius Chief Rabbi Shlomo Goren decided that in order for these two poor children to get married, the only thing to do would be to annul the Polish man's conversion so that her marriage to him was not kosher and that her second marriage was kosher and the children would not fall into the mamzer category.

This rabbi looked and said, well, you know, we really don't know the legitimacy of the Polish man's conversion, nor do we really know that he's living a Jewish life, so, yeah, let's revoke his conversion years after the fact.

The Langer Siblings got married and lived happily ever after.

Conversion, as a result, has suffered the ridiculous and impossible fate of "revoked" conversions after the fact -- all because this one woman decided not to get a get like a normal human being.

It's also worth noting that this Rabbi Goren converted hundreds of people with certificates that said "Only Valid in Israel." Rabbi Goren believed that any conversion done in the State of Israel was sincere, no matter whether the person converting was agreeing to hold to the mitzvoth or not, because (his logic was) who would live in Israel in a Jewish state surrounded by Jews and not be sincere?! The problem was that people who left the State of Israel and went elsewhere were denied the basic rights of a Jew (one case involved a woman whose children couldn't be entered into a school in England because her conversion through Goren was only legit within the State of Israel).

Overall, Rabbi Goren -- for all of his merit that I'm sure exists -- did some horrible, horrible things for conversion and is the reason that cases like this even have to happen nowadays.

For more fun on the colorful history of conversion, I seriously recommend picking up Pledges of Jewish Allegiance. It's eye-opening, depressing, but a least lets the modern convert know who is responsible for the jack-upedness of today's bureaucratic, impersonal conversion system!

Observance, Ethics, and Being a Good Jew

I want very much to thank Stella for passing this along to me. I'm surprised I missed this back when it printed in 2010, but, well, life was in a funny place at the time.

The article -- Joining the Covenant -- was posted on Jewish Ideas Daily more than two years ago, and it was written by Rabbi Irving Greenberg (aka Rabbi Yitz Greenberg), a modern-Orthodox Jew, and details his thoughts about synthesizing "traditional requirements of the law with a principled openness to converts who will not become fully Orthodox."

The article is beautifully written, and I want to highlight a few thing that he says that gives me peace in my perpetual state of flux as an underconstructionist Jew.

Furthermore: I believe with perfect faith that God loves and honors good, serious Jews-whether or not they keep all the mitzvot. I believe that the merit of the mitzvot they do keep, including in the form of good deeds and self-sacrifice, outweighs all the punishments that can be incurred by non-observance, and that God will treat them accordingly.

Also:

As a concluding note I add this: when it comes to defining a good Jew, stressing the "particularist" ritual mitzvot over against the "universalist" mitzvot of ethical behavior is itself a gross distortion.

I think Rabbi Greenberg has hit the nail on the head. So often, we forget what it means to be a Jew. We also forget that our actions are our own in the end and only HaShem has a right to say, think, or act on our individual neshamot. 

It's an old article, but it's worth a read and a consideration, if not more -- action.