"Very Superstitious"

Now that I'm in my 22nd week of pregnancy, I've been thinking a lot about superstitions. In the Jewish community, superstitions about pregnancy and babies abound. Most couples keep the news that they're expecting private until at least the end of the first trimester. When they do finally go public, the traditional response is the Hebrew phrase "B'Shaah Tovah," which means "in good time." You're not supposed to say congratulations or mazel tov over a pregnancy -- it's tempting fate.

Lots of people also avoid buying things for the baby before he or she is born. Some couples will bend to expediency and buy a few necessities, like a car seat and some diapers, while other couples literally buy nothing, sending family and friends running to the stores after the delivery. Baby showers are generally avoided. Jews of Eastern European descent won't name the baby after a living relative, lest the angel of death become confused and take the baby when he comes for the older person. For months, my mother-in-law's favorite phrase has been "Kain ein horeh,"which is Yiddish for "No evil eye." Her mother says it, too.

It all traces back to medieval European Jewish folk traditions, most of which were frowned upon by the rabbis and scholars of mainstream Judaism, but which nevertheless survived. These traditions involved angels, demons and other spirits, and people invented ways to protect themselves from the demons and evil spirits. Remember the spitting in Fiddler on the Roof? Warding off the evil eye.

I have to say, after a few months of intense exposure to this stuff, I've come to have a bad opinion of it. It was really hard for me to keep my pregnancy a secret from most people during the first trimester -- I was going through a lot, and it was lonely keeping it to myself. And as someone who prepares for change by gathering lots of information and generally being prepared for eventualities, I really feel the need to buy baby gear before the baby comes.

Maybe the whole superstition thing has to be ingrained early in life. I don't know, but I am officially rejecting all of it. (Kain ein horeh.)

Purim 5769

Last year, Adam and I were on vacation for Purim. We spent the day walking around in the warm Jerusalem sun, delivering mishloach manot to our friends. This year, Purim was a regular work day for me and, even worse, an exam day for Adam. But we still managed to have some fun. A few highlights:

• Purim night with the Washington Square Minyan. We dressed up as Antony and Cleopatra. (Cleopatra had two children with Marc Antony, so the pregnancy bulge did not spoil the costume!)

• Daytime megillah reading with the Newton Centre Minyan before work. Don't ask me what time I woke up.
  
• Matanot l'evyonim through Yad Chessed, an amazing local organization that runs a Purim program where needy families in the community get certificates to the Butcherie (a kosher grocery store in Brookline). Thanks to Brandeis Hillel for organizing this!
• Mishloach manot put together with items from BJ's, the wholesale club of the east coast. Wouldn't it be great if Israel had BJ's? 24 perfect little packs of peanuts for under $10! It's amazing!
  
• Seudah (festive meal) with Meg and Eli and Taam China, the finest kosher Chinese food in Boston!
  

Local Politics

I went to an event at Hebrew College last night, the first in a discussion series called "Jewish & American: Confronting the 21st Century." The event was entitled "Red, Blue and Jewish: Changing the Way We Talk About Politics," and it featured Steve Grossman and Jeff Jacoby in conversation. I love Jeff Jacoby's columns in the Globe -- he's a Midwestern transplant to Boston, politically conservative and Jewishly educated and committed, like me. Last night only increased my good opinion of him.

Of course, as often happens at these events, most of the questions from the audience consisted of mini-political diatribes thinly disguised as questions. Most of them had to do with Israel and the Middle East, and all but one came from middle-aged men. The one that wasn't asked by a middle-aged man was asked by yours truly -- I decided to represent my gender and age group (and place of employment) by taking the microphone towards the end of the evening.

I said that I work at the Cohen Center for Modern Jewish Studies, and that our research consistently shows the strong, positive impact of Jewish day school education on future Jewish identity. How would the two candidates' positions on the economy and taxes, as well as education, impact our community's ability to educate our youth?

The question went over very well, as it tied together Jewish concerns and political positions, not to mention eliciting responses that showed real differences between the candidates. Afterward, I went to introduce myself to Jeff Jacoby. He was happy to meet another Midwesterner and hear a little bit about Milwaukee's voucher program, and he said that we should have a whole evening devoted to audience questions like mine! I totally agree. Bring it on!

Voice of (a Handful of) the People

I went to a rally last night! It was organized by Ne’emanei Torah vaAvodah to protest the Supreme Rabbinical Court's ruling from the end of April, which invalidated thousands of conversions carried out in Israel over the past few years by Rabbi Haim Druckman, head of the Israeli Conversion Court. Some background:

Rabbi Druckman is a prominent religious Zionist rabbi who was called upon by Prime Minister Ariel Sharon back in 2004 to form and modernize the Israeli Conversion Court. The goal, at that time, was for Rabbi Druckman to facilitate the conversion of the approximately 300,000 non-Jews who have come to Israel from the former Soviet Union over the past decade and a half.

According to the Court's latest ruling, all conversions that were conducted by Rabbi Druckman -- before and after his appointment to the Conversion Court -- will no longer be recognized by the Chief Rabbinate. They're apparently not kosher enough for the ultra-Orthodox rabbis who make up the Supreme Rabbinical Court. Adding insult to injury, about two weeks ago, Rabbi Druckman was summarily dismissed from his position as head of the Conversion Court. The whole debacle signifies not only the capitulation of the Israeli government to pressure from the ultra-Orthodox community, but also the total failure of the religious Zionist community to stand up for its halakhic integrity and address the desperate need to find creative halakhic solutions to the problems of conversion and, among others, agunot and mesuravot get.

Tonight, a group of converts and religious Israelis who oppose the delegitimization of Rabbi Druckman -- and, more broadly, the delegitimization of those who are seeking solutions to serious religious-social problems in this country -- staged a rally across from Jerusalem's Rabbinical Court. Adam and I went to add our voices to the mix. We were disappointed by the relatively low turnout and lackluster atmosphere. I was also unhappy when one speaker, berating the ultra-Orthodox for "inventing" their own Torah, said derisively, "There's one type of Reformim and the other type of Reformim." I thought the rally was meant to stress the openness of the Jewish people, not move the line of hatred a millimeter to the left.

Still, I'm glad that we went. And I'm proud of Jerusalem's Anglo community for being so well-represented at the event.

My teacher Esther looks on as my friends Sarah and Alexandra sign a petition.

Rabbi Riskin of Efrat speaks against the ruling.

The small crowd at the rally.

Yom Hashoah

Tonight marks the beginning of what is formally called "Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Day." Nefesh B'Nefesh was giving out tickets to tonight's official opening ceremony at Yad Vashem, the one that airs on Israeli television, and Adam and I decided to go. This will be our last Yom Hashoah-Yom Hazikaron-Yom Ha'atzmaut in Israel for a little while, and we wanted to soak up the whole Israeli experience of these holidays.

The theme of this year's Yom Hashoah ceremony, in line with Israel's 60th birthday celebration next week, was Holocaust survivors in Israel. The picture below is from the beginning of the ceremony. Merav Gruber, an Israeli actress, is reading the last letter written by a victim named Tzipora Bierman, from the Białystok Ghetto in 1943. We also heard from seven survivors who went on to make significant contributions to the State of Israel. It was just the kind of sobering-yet-uplifting Holocaust memorial ceremony that can happen only in this country.