Reconstructionist Judaism and the Chosen People

I present: The Havdalah Hedgehog

While working on an article on havdalah for About.com, I came across the detail that Reconstructionist Jews, at the urging of founder Mordechai Kaplain, omit the portion of havdalah that highlights separation. (Havdalah is the post-Shabbat ceremony that marks the separation of Shabbat from the beginning of the work week.)

Specifically, the havdalah text says:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, הַמַּבְדִיל בֵּין קֹֽדֶשׁ לְחוֹל, בֵּין אוֹר לְחֹֽשֶׁךְ, בֵּין יִשְׂרָאֵל לָעַמִּים, בֵּין יוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי לְשֵֽׁשֶׁת יְמֵי הַמַּעֲשֶׂה. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, הַמַּבְדִיל בֵּין קֹֽדֶשׁ לְחוֹל.
Blessed are You, G-d, our Lord, King of the universe, who separates between the holy and the profane; between the light and dark; between Israel and the other nations; between the seventh day and the six days of the week. Blessed are You, G-d, who separates between the holy and the profane.

The portion that is omitted by the Reconstructionist movement is "between Israel and the other nations" because Kaplan rejected the concept of chosenness and this is a central tenet of Reconstructionist Judaism.

Unfortunately, the concept of chosenness is soooooo misunderstood. It doesn't mean chosen to be better than or more loved by G-d or more awesome.

The origins of the text are Deuteronomy 14:2:

כִּי עַם קָדוֹשׁ אַתָּה, לַיהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ; וּבְךָ בָּחַר יְהוָה, לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה, מִכֹּל הָעַמִּים, אֲשֶׁר עַל-פְּנֵי הָאֲדָמָה.
Because you are a holy people for G-d, and God has chosen you to be an am segulah from the nations on the earth. 

The beef probably comes from the concept of being an am segulah -- roughly translated as a treasured people. But what comes next is important. It doesn't say ABOVE or MORE AWESOME than other nations of the earth, but "from" the nations of the earth. 

The concept of chosenness for the Jewish people means to be different, to be a "light unto the nations." This means to live a certain type and style of life that will inspire and motivate the other nations of the world toward an ethical, positive, empowered life. There's nothing about being better than or more special than the other nations of the world, contrary to popular belief. 

So that's news to me. Did you know that Reconstructionist Judaism rejects the idea of chosenness? I'd like to hear your thoughts -- especially if you're a Reconstructionist Jew. 

Sukkot in the Land of Memory

Today is one of those days that's made for Mumford and Sons circa winter 2010-11.

Those were melancholy days where I spent a lot of time on the backroads of Pennsylvania on dangerous, winding roads drifting between a coffee shop and a Poconos bungalow that was never mine.

Leaves in burnt orange, rusty red, and deep marigold mixed with splashes of rain all send me back to that place, and Colorado is deep in that weather at the moment.

After a three-day holiday (that was the first two days of Sukkot plus Shabbat) home with the little one, where I was reminded -- once again and for the last time -- that I simply can't take Ash out at night, the oddest thing about not having Mr. T around on holidays and Shabbat became apparent.

Kiddush. Motzi. Havdalah.

It might seem like minutiae, but there are many things as far as ritual in Judaism that I was never keen on making my own. I know a lot of families where the husband does kiddush (that's the blessing over the wine on holidays and Shabbat typically) and the wife handles motzi (that's the blessing over the challot, or bread). In most communities havdalah (the blessings to mark the end of a holiday or Sabbath) is done at synagogue or handled by the husband at home. Yes, it seems very patriarchal, but for some reason, I really like those aspects of my married life.

I've been trying to remember whether, when I was single and religious, I did these things at home, relied on synagogue for them, or just didn't do them at all. Part of me thinks I heard the prayers at synagogue and covered my bases there, but part of me also feels like maybe I just didn't do them when I was alone at home, which is probably why I tried desperately to get meals out on the holidays so I didn't have to do them myself.

Does it sound weird? Being so unwilling to do a few simple blessings over some wine or bread once a week? After all, a woman is totally allowed and, in fact, encouraged to make kiddush. There's nothing about a woman not being able to say motzi, either.

There's just something that's always been comfortable in my world about having my husband, the "head" of the house, the super-duper, obligated-to-do-so-many-mitzvahs guy, taking control of these ritual acts. I'm all in love with being a progressive, forward-thinking working woman, but some things just feel right a certain way.

So I went through the motions, with Ash squiggling about, saying the prayers and inhaling gluten-free challah at a table set for the night meals. We'll repeat the ritual again at the end of Sukkot, too. But I'll be glad when the holidays are over.

The thing I keep telling myself is that the pain of separation from a spouse for the potential of months, not weeks, is that this is how people used to live. Husbands would go on trading routes or off to war for months, if not years, leaving wives and children back home to fend for themselves. In those days (even 50-100 years ago), there wasn't Skype or FaceTime or Facebook or texting or other instant forms of communication. There was a hope that -- maybe -- you'd hear from someone in a few weeks or months.

In reality, I'm spoiled. I'm lucky. I'm able to chat with Mr. T daily (save the three-day holiday situation and Shabbat, of course).

Then again, as a good friend R.C. pointed out, women also didn't have the obligations of full-time jobs back in those days. They stayed home and kept house or ran the shop with hired help or other similar assistance.

Although I'm going to miss many months of hearing my husband say prayers over the wine and bread we eat on a weekly basis, I'm blessed to live in the 21st century and in a Jewish community where people are ready and willing to help -- even if I don't always take people up on their kindness.

How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

Sometimes You Need a Sign

We spent Shabbat in Aderet with good, old friends of Mr. T's, and it was an amazing and calming experience (even with two rambunctious little girls). When our host poured grape juice for havdalah, the little bubbles came together to form a giant heart.

Now that, folks, is beautiful. Shavua Tov! 

Getting Shabbat Done. Chavi Style.

Why was this Shabbat different than all other Shabbats? I realized a few things about being a bit of the Shomer Shabbos. The repeating realization that Shabbat lasts forever if you don't spend it at shul or meals or with friends/family hit me once again last night. I managed to lay down for a nap last night pre-Shabbat at 5 p.m. And then, I woke up at 7:30 p.m., an hour after services/dinner at the rabbi's started up. So I ate some cold pasta and hummus from the fridge, mulled about, davened a bit, and went back to bed. Luckily, I woke up this A.M. and made it to the rabbi's for some lunch, park time, and a pleasant walk. So, in sum, this Shabbat was just what I needed -- a lot of sleep, a lot of quiet, a lot of peace, a lot of recovery time from a most harrowing and stressful week.

+ It's going to take a few tries before I get my lamp timers right. I also have to set up my fan on a timer. Why? Because I can't sleep without the fan, that's why. It was a rough night, so I'm lucky that I went to bed early and slept so very late.

+ I love my Art Scroll.

+ Going to the bathroom seems like a simple issue -- if you're in your own house. But I share a bathroom with five other girls at any given moment, so there isn't a box of Kleenex in the bathroom to prevent rippage (a no no on Shabbat). The interesting thing is that I didn't realize this faux pas until I got up to use the ladies' room in the middle of the night. Funny how being mostly unconscious you can make some stellar realizations.

+ After spending some time at the rabbi's, I realized there are quite a few things I don't know about Shabbat as far as the 39 categories of forbidden labor and how they translate. I know the basics, and I am pretty sure I know even more than the basics (don't doodle on the frosted-over windows), but I'm looking for a comprehensive book that won't break the bank. If I had $120, I'd pick up this four-volume set . But I don't, so please -- someone! anyone! -- offer up some suggested reading materials?

+ I want to always have hot water available (for tea and what have you), but for some reason leaving my coffee maker (which I use to make hot water) on for the entire 25 hours seems to me like something super unsafe and not cool. Suggestions?

+ I need some havdalah goods. That is, a havdalah set/kit that isn't super expensive. I've looked, I've searched, and I can't seem to find something. Maybe I should look in Israel?

Yawn. Shavua tov!