So, it's turned out to be pretty hard to follow any kind of regular halachic practice. Aside from the intrigue of conducting this experiment and my interest in figuring out what halacha practice might “feel like,” since I'm not solidly behind the “why” of any given practice, I am finding it really hard to stay fast to it. The contrast is pretty clear in my relationship between kashrut (even a reinterpreted one) and Shabbat. All week I've been thinking, “I should really start my practice of sourcing food locally,” but each time I go to eat convenience and immediacy seems to win out. In contrast, my decision to unplug my phone and computer for Shabbat felt really good. I brought it along anyway today in case the friend I was meeting for lunch needed to contact me, which he did. And, I gave into the temptation to check my e-mail. But mostly I refrain from using these devices, and it was really nice. I read a book, I took a nap, and more than that I had time to think “what do I want to do right now,” without the next article or e-mail popping onto the computer screen and into my head. It also became clear that having a community to celebrate Shabbat with, even just to friends at a picnic in the park, and my roommates who were observing Shabbat but not celebrating with me, made the whole thing real. So, even when I came home by myself I still felt beholden to the commitments I had made.
Since this blog is mostly for me, I'm not so concerned with the experiment making much sense to the reader. Rather the blog is just an excuse for me to put my thoughts down with some putative audience. That said, I thought that perhaps you might be interested to know exactly what this experiment is, or at least what I said it was going to be. So I've pasted the relevant part of my application essay below. Enjoy!
I'm drawn to halacha as a system of values in practice. In place of broad platitudes and vague intentions, halachic particulars enable the instantiation of values in a shared socially enforced system. Just think of the possibilities if we could address environmental problems, economic issues, or even sexism and racism through the creation of shared halachic standards. For a long time I've thought about what such a halacha could look like, but lacking the structure and community to experiment with it, I've not pursued it. The bounded and intensive nature of the program at Yeshivat Hadar provides an incredible opportunity to generate and live out such a halacha. With the support of the Hadar community I hope to take on a raft of new practices that are informed by traditional halachic categories and contemporary ethics and designed to create a structured, thoughtful and ethical life. From kippah and tzitsit as mindfulness practice, through thrice daily prayer (or meditation) and a kashrut practice that includes strict vegetarianism and a commitment to source 50% of my meals outside of the Yeshivah from local farmers markets and CSAs, to berachot over food and asher yatsar – I am excited about assuming the obligations of these and other mitzvot and ethical standards in an environment that is both supportive and challenging. I would come to Hadar with a set of questions that would allow me to pursue my intellectual and spiritual goals. I want to explore the interarticulations and disjunctures between my practice and the textual sources, looking for more ways that traditional halachic categories could inform my practice while continuing to explore the possible authoritative grounding of halacha in light of historical critical knowledge of textual composition and halachic development. I would hope that in light of this experiment I would find a set of practices and a relationship to mitzvot that I could continue beyond the summer.
A number of years ago I spent the year in a coed yeshiva in Jerusalem. That year was many things, among them an attempt to reengage with halacha. I had grown up in a household and a community where the answer to why we did certain things (keep kosher by ingredients, park in the library parking lot across from the shul on Shabbat) and were not allowed to do other things (go out on Friday nights, date non-Jews) was usually “because this is the way we do things.” As you may imagine, that was not particularly satisfactory. When left to my own devices the way that “we” did things didn't become the way that “I” did things. I did eventually come to a deep appreciation of the value of Jewish community and Jewish texts/concepts in my life, but have never really been able to embrace halacha. For a time I thought a lot about what a meaningful progressive halacha might look like. I've often thought about how we might harness these rules and social norms to produce social change, richer and more equitable communities and societies.
That year in Jerusalem I was studying at an Orthodox, though open and coed, institution. Throughout the year I sent home e-mails to friends and family about my experiences in Jerusalem. The final e-mail a year was titled “I Fought the Law and the Law Won.” I had discovered, that at least in this community, in this institution, traditional halacha, which insists on using premodern categories as the basis for its norms, teeters between the status quo and reactionary. It the project of producing a halachah that was honestly compatible with modernity seemed rather far off, the idea of a truly liberatory and progressive halacha seemed like a pipe dream. The content of any halachic norms, that which is required, that which is permissible, and that which is forbidden, is only part of the problem. Tied up with that, and in many ways more of a problem (at least for me), is the problem with authority. On what possible defensible grounds can an ancient religious legal system make a claim on the life of a modern liberal individual? Short of believing that the entire Oral Torah, either in actuality or in potentiality, was delivered by God to Moses at Sinai (a position which depends upon a thoroughly untenable notion of revelation), how does a nondemocratic barely enforceable religious system of a small minority have any kind of power or force?
All this theorizing about norms and authority, however, doesn't get at the real problem. Even if it wanted to follow some element of halacha I just don't seem to be able to follow it on those grounds. It's the same problem with working out, or eating well. Even if I say “I want to do this!” and I know why I want to do something, remembering to do it and deciding to do in any given moment is a terrible challenge. So in some ways the “why” question is even superseded by the “how” goods and question.
Although this is a rather long introduction to the renewed purpose of this blog. I stopped blogging a number of years ago, but this summer ready to pick it back up. As part of both a personal and professional experiment, and because it is a requirement for the program I wanted to do, I'm going to spend this summer trying to live, as best I can define it, one version of this progressive halacha. I thought blogging it would give me a chance to think about my experiences and be in dialogue with others. I'm not exactly sure what is going to go on this blog, or how much I can or should say about my classmates and teachers in yeshiva who will of course play a major role in my experience seeing and thinking about halacha.
I also should note that a case of carpal tunnel has made it difficult for me to type. I'm using dictation software, but it is much much much much harder to think and write easily without being able to type. This entire piece was dictated into the computer and it doesn't really say what I want it to. So, I cannot promise that this blog will be particularly well-written, coherent, or interesting but, I wanted to start putting words to paper (or words to screen) tonight just to get the ball rolling on this experiment. Hopefully I'll come back with a clear explanation of what this project is and what I'm thinking about soon. Since this blog is as much, if not more, for me than it is for you, I think these disjointed thoughts will be just fine.
So, after over a year hiatus, I've decided to return to the blog-o-sphere. This time I hope to post a smaller number of longer essays, rather than constant postings about news, both personal and global (though I am sure there will be some of that). I'm a lot busier now than I was last time. That means less posting. However, since I'm in a grad program related to Jewish communal issues I bet Im going to come across more stuff I want to comment on. That means more posting.
Last year, when I stopped blogging, it was due to some concerns about how my posts may come back to bite me in the ass. Its not that I don't stand behind my posts, its just that on some of the issues that are nearest to me the party line is policed with a unique vigor. I dont think those concerns have vanished and I'm still trying to figure out what and how to post. However, I really missed the process of blogging. Falling somewhere between a group email and a well crafted essay, blogging allowed me to put ideas out and get feedback without pushing my writing into people's inboxes.
So, I'm back. Not totally uncensored, but hopefully providing some interesting food for thought around issues of Jewish identity, Jewish politics and personal/spiritual/emotional journeys.
they say that we're like indigent children
so hungry, even for the pockets of air in our bread
the spaces between the letters;
this is a metaphor we are familiar with
we are familiar with metaphors,
the dreaded conventions of our speech;
I don't, like, speak to You like I speak to "him"
hesitatingly and kind of rushing
like,
I've drunk a little too much of the coffee of exile;
or maybe
not enough
By: a friend