A long speech and a double-duty Torah reading

Chanting the Torah takes skill and preparation, so traditional synagogues assign someone to chant the weekly biblical portion. Sometimes members take turns, while some synagogues hire a professional. Lion of Zion is one such professional who often writes about the intricacies of the cantillation symbols.

My husband has been chanting, or "leining" as it is known in Yiddish, since before his bar mitzvah. He has prepared every portion at least once and tries to review each week, since he never knows when he will be called on in a pinch.

A few weeks ago he arrived in the synagogue to learn that the neighboring synagogue sought him as a last-minute replacement. My husband declined, as he was scheduled to read in ours. But when the rabbi got up to speak before the Torah reading, my husband decided to check if he was still needed. He asked our son to run and get him as soon as the rabbi finished.

He got to the second synagogue just as they were taking out the Torah scroll. They were glad to see him. I don't know whether he speeded up his pace or not [he just told me he did], but he returned in time to catch the last twenty minutes of the rabbi's speech.(*) Fortunately the rabbi has what to say.

(*)Depending on the length of the weekly portion, reading can take 20-40 minutes.
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Israeli Army Chaplains and Sabbath Observance

Our Shiputzim posted a letter about army chaplains accompanying soldiers to the Gaza front. The letter's author, YAR, and YAR's brother, one of the chaplains, are relatives of "Our Shiputzim."

I'll wait while you read it.

On Shabbat, our rabbi spoke about this incident and the question of Sabbath observance by chaplains. He maintained that there was absolutely no question that the chaplains were permitted to accompany the soldiers, Shabbat or not. Apparently the army employed Druze drivers (not mentioned in the letter quoted in Our Shiputzim) to minimize the violation of the Sabbath by Jews. The rabbi insisted that this was unnecessary.

Let us pray for the day when we will no longer need to ask this type of question.

Unfortunately, I have needed to post an updated list of injured soldiers and victims, including additional names. Thanks to those who have sent updates and corrections; I passed them on.

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The day is short, and the work is great: Efficient Shabbat Preparations

It seems that just when Shabbat starts to "come in" (as my kids say) at a normal hour, the clocks get switched back. With candlelighting at around 4 PM, I have to be organized. Below I post techniques that I have used.


Read the rest of this post at A Mother in Israel's new location.

New blog posts can be found at A Mother in Israel.

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The eruv came too late for me. . .

If the level of observance was low in New York before the war (see previous post and comments), imagine the state of Jewish life in Sacramento, California. My mother's family settled there in the late 30's,  where my grandfather and my grandmother's brothers had established a business. My grandmother told me that she refused to travel to shul in the car, so my grandfather attended alone for a few months until she gave in. 

According to my mother, her uncles hesitated to bring their parents over from Germany. They realized the parents would be disappointed in the brothers' lack of observance and shocked at the absence of religious amenities. My great-grandparents did manage to get out in 1939 and lived with my grandmother, who, despite the Sabbath driving, remained the most religiously observant.

I did not look forward to my frequent trips to Sacramento. It was dull, and my grandmother kept a close eye on me. When the Orthodox synagogue first opened, I wanted to attend. Grandma tried to exert control over the situation by insisting that I take a sweater. Ordinarily I would have accommodated her requests, but this was Sacramento. In July. I would have had to wear it, as carrying without an eruv is forbidden on Shabbat. I left the sweater at home.

An article about the new Sacramento eruv inspired this post. I see that my grandparents' shul, the Conservative Temple of Mosaic Law, still exists.

Who are you waiting for, Miss America? Guess not.

Last night we went to the shiva for the mother of an old friend. The friend told how her mother's mother studied piano with Bess Myerson, the first (and only?) Jewish Miss America. My friend's great-grandmother tried to fix up one of her sons with Bess, but they weren't interested. 

If I have it right, this great-grandmother was American-born, and attended Hunter College in the 1890's. When her future husband, a Polish immigrant, was looking for a shidduch, he asked for a "religious, American-born girl." The great-grandmother agreed to marry him on condition that he close his factory on Shabbat. Apparently, being "religious" in those days did not include strict Sabbath observance. 

Sweet Shabbat in Jerusalem

These are my youngest children, upon our return from Shabbat in Jerusalem. We hoped for a bit of touring but had just enough time to get to the Kotel Friday afternoon. At night we ate at one brother-in-law and his young family. In the morning we walked from Katamon (Srugim territory) to Baka for our friends' son's Bar Mitzvah. After lunch, my friend invited us to her house. Since I didn't want to walk back in the midday sun, I stayed with the younger kids while my husband and eldest son went back to sleep. Her invitation ties into a discussion I had last week about the obligations of hosts of smachot like weddings and bar mitzvahs to pay attention to their guests. My friend certainly fulfilled this one, both at shul and afterward. We talked semi-privately for several hours while the kids played with the family's amazing assortment of games. Mazal tov to E. and family on the Bar Mitzvah--he's a terrific kid!

The shul had a program for preschoolers. My 12-year-old son was with my youngest, but called me to take over so he could go into shul; my daughter didn't want to stay by herself. After a while he came back and offered to take over during the drasha. After confirming that he wished to return for mussaf, I told him I would stay with her. I missed the end of shul but since I sat from barchu through the bar-mitzvah boy's clear and confident rendition of the parsha and haftara, I can't complain. Before going back up my son offered me some of the Hershey's chocolate he had collected from the candy-throwing. (I still have some; don't tell my kids.) Now that's what I call kibud em (honoring your mother).

My husband picked us up at around 5 (he didn't mind all the walking) and we stopped by an old friend, who sat with us in a park and walked us back to where we were staying. My 4yo napped in my husband's arms most of the way. When we arrived I was too tired even to walk up the stairs, so I waited on a bench until we walked back to brother-in-law 2 for seudah shlishit.

Brother-in-law 1's apartment was spacious and accommodating. His landlords live in the US and only use it for vacations. We appreciate the fact that both of the brothers are renting in such a great location and seemed happy for us to "invade" for Shabbat. And I haven't mentioned the other old friends we met in shul and over meals.
The air was pleasant, the neighborhoods are charming, and the view of the bridge at night, as we approached the exit from Jerusalem, is breathtaking. I foced myself to remember the pleasures of winter in the Tel Aviv area. . . .

Check out Haveil Havalim #175 over here.

The Shabbat bath dilemma

In the last comment thread Lion of Zion asks when should parents force children to do things.

The short answer is, "Never." At least not in an ideal world.

For the record, there is a movement entitled "non-coercive parenting." Its proponents believe that children are individuals and adults never have the right to inflict their desires on to their children.

I don't believe in non-coercive parenting as I have seen it described. However, I do want to avoid situations where I have to force my children to "cooperate." I want to have the kind of relationship where they will naturally want to go along with me on most issues, especially day-to-day routines. That's not easy with a three-year-old.

When our children don't do what we want, we experience a range of emotions. Frustration, because dealing with the refusal takes time and effort that we hadn't anticipated. Disappointment, because our children are not as well-behaved and congenial as we expected. And guilt, because maybe if we had done our job better, things wouldn't be this way.

Here's an example. It's late Friday afternoon and the 3-year-old needs a bath, but he has decided he doesn't want one. Let's say it's ten minutes until candle-lighting (or sunset, take your pick) and he hasn't had a bath all week.

If this were ever to happen to me (!) I would ask myself several questions:

1. What will be the consequences of him not having a bath?
2. What effect will forcing him have in the short and long term?
3. What effect will it have on me?
   

In answer to the first question: Barring exceptional circumstances there aren't any health or safety consequences if the child won't take a bath for another couple of days. (If he doesn't want to wear his seatbelt, the answer would be different.) Now if you are all invited to Aunt Shprintza's for lunch the next day, and she already thinks that your child is neglected and this pains you, you might take that into consideration. Or not.

Regarding question number two, a lot depends on the child's personality and his relationship with his parents. There are some children who, were they forced to take a bath, would continue to scream for hours on end and dig their heels in even more the next time. But some children will protest mildly but go along. If you essentially have a good relationship with the child, you might get away with something like this once in a while. But if you find yourself doing this frequently something needs to change.

The answer to question three is an important consideration for me. Ten minutes before Shabbat is not the most peaceful time of my week. If I force the child to take a bath when we are in a hurry, I might be harsher than necessary. Also, I don't want to come into Shabbat angry and stressed. For me, it's better to take a deep breath and step back from the situation. My equanimity is more important than a clean child.

Whatever the parents do, the decision-making isn't finished. They will need to sit down and think of ideas to prevent this situation in the future? Maybe the child was tired or hungry, or he's just petrified of getting soap in his eyes. Maybe he's been trying to get his parents' attention all day. Probably the parents need to find a better bath time. ☺

Shabbat shalom.

The "I Can" Exercise

From Aidel Maidel

You have 15 minutes to make a list of sentences that start with "I can." You aren't supposed to edit it, either.

Here's mine.

1. I can read two novels at once, and keep the plots straight.
2. I can type fast.
3. I can blog.
4. I can apologize when needed.
5. I can negotiate between a lot of different people to solve a problem.
6. I can explain complicated ideas in a simple way.
7. I can drive a car.
8. I can explain what forms of birth control are compatible with nursing.
9. I can distinguish between giving information and support, and giving advice.
10. I can cook for Shabbat in two hours.
11. I can drive a stick shift.
12. I can run a group.
13. I can meet someone for the first time, and within 5 minutes have them telling me their life story.
14. I can meet someone for the first time, and not have them tell me their life story within five minutes.
15. I can plan a menu that is varied in color, texture, and nutrition and appropriate for the time of year.
16. I can make tables in Word documents.
17. I can catch a spelling mistake from a mile away.
18. I can finish a blog post in an hour.
19. I can spend several days writing a blog post.
20. I can pinpoint what to do to change the tone of someone's writing.
21. I can reply to silly blog memes.
22. I can brush my teeth.
23. I can get myself dressed.
24. I can make homemade, nutritious meals for a family of eight.
25. I can teach kids to be happy with what they have.
26. I can read a novel in a day.
27. I can write a boring post in reply to a meme, that will cause my readers to go "ho-hum."
28. I can ignore my husband, who is telling me something, because I am not supposed to interrupt myself while doing this meme.
29. I can wonder why I am still doing this, instead of going to sleep.
30. I can sit at the computer on a Thursday evening, instead of cooking.
31. I can wash my floor on Wednesday and need to do it again on Friday.
32. I can agree on Wednesday to host a party on Motzei Shabbat (Saturday evening).
33. I can welcome potential converts from Russian-speaking backgrounds to my Shabbat table and make them feel welcome.
34. I can help these potential converts feel that Judaism is a beautiful thing, even if my kids are about to kill each other.
    
35. I can give myself an extra two minutes, because I am just getting started and I was distracted by my husband.
36. I can give myself permission to stop, even though I know I will think of ten brilliant things immediately.
    

(I ran the spell-check anyway.)