[Alumni Guest Post] The Beating Heart of the Jewish World

Sara Brandes (Year ’01, Fellows ’02, Elul ’05) shares 
her Pardes reflections:
Rabbi Sara Brandes

Rabbi Sara Brandes

I met my friend, teacher and fellow Pardes alumna Rabbi Shawn Fields-Meyer during the summer before I arrived at Pardes, as a participant in the Brandeis Collegiate Institute. Inspired by her teaching and hungry for more, I sought her out. When I told her that I was on my way to Pardes, she responded, “Oh! You’ll be FINE! Pardes is the beating heart of the Jewish world. You’re going to get everything there that you are looking for.” And, she was right.

At the time, I was a Jewish young adult, raised within the magical combination of Jewish day school and summer camp. I was Jewishly affiliated, dating the Jewish man (fellow Pardes alum, Hyim Brandes ’00-02, ‘04-05) who would one day become my husband. I had studied Religion and Bible as an undergraduate at Emory University. In all of that time, I had learned just enough about Torah to know that I knew almost nothing at all. I had studied Hebrew, but could not speak Hebrew with confidence. I had studied Bible stories, but felt no ownership over our shared Jewish library. Pardes changed all of that.

During my first year at Pardes, I felt as though I was inhaling Torah. At the time, I often used the analogy that after years of accessing Judaism from the outside, Pardes was like an Jewish IV drip. Torah just flowed in, giving me new life. My teachers at Pardes became my rabbis. My hevrutot became my life-long friends. Continue reading

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[Student Profile] Bruce Shaffer

Bruce Shaffer was raised in an assimilation-bent household in the predominantly Jewish neighborhood of Northwest Detroit, fairly typical of what he saw around him. His curiosity for Jewish learning and Jewish text was seeded at his Hebrew school. There was no core of professional Jewish faculty – Bruce’s teachers were mostly Yiddish-speaking European refugees, and he had very little understanding of what they’d been through despite the featured Holocaust newsreels he’d been shown at his Jewish summer camp. Bruce still remembers a Mr. Plofkin with his baggy clothing and foreign accent, always carrying a piece of apple in one pocket, and a paring knife in his other.

“I remember Mr. Plofkin in level hey Hebrew class asking me, ‘What’s your Hebrew name?’ ‘Baer,’ I responded. He said, ‘That’s not Hebrew – that’s Yiddish,’ and Mr. Plofkin began calling me Baruch. In later years I’ve grown to appreciate that; and I continue to strive to become my Hebrew name.”

By his high school years, Bruce’s family had moved to the suburbs.

“My friends were still mostly Jewish – all the ex-pats from the city. That remained the case at the U. of Michigan, but as the times-were-a-changin’, the social pool, too, was expanding and certainly by the time I moved back to attend Wayne University Law School, I was hanging out with a broader range of people from the diverse student population of an urban school.”

After completing law school in the mid ‘70s Bruce moved to Continue reading

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Brainwashing

As many in the Pardes community know, my year at Pardes has been decidedly unique. I originally only intended to stay through Elul, but every month I decided I would stay “for one more month.”

My unwillingness to leave led my family and friends in America to conclude that I must be being “brainwashed”. This term used to frustrate and anger me. I would insist that they “had no idea what they were talking about.” How could a non-denominational yeshiva that considers “non-coercion” one of its most critical tenets possibly be a brainwashing institution? But after months of consideration, I’ve realized that my family is right. I have been brainwashed.

Every day I go to school, all of the preconceptions and assumptions I possessed about Judaism before I came to Pardes are vigorously scrubbed from my brain. For the first time ever I am encouraged to formulate my own ideas about what a text says and on a metaphysical level, what kind of Jewish life I want to lead.

With each class I take, my brain is lathered a little more in a diverse breadth of knowledge, ranging from ancient texts like the Torah, to controversial modern commentaries, such as Judith Plaskow’s “Standing Again at Sinai.” I soak it up like a sponge, knowing that every taste of Jewish insight makes me ravenous for more.

Every Shabbat, my mind is cleansed and purified. From the joyous melodies of Kabbalat Shabbat, to the following hours I spend with my friends eating, drinking and singing the day away, I always take a moment to recognize that my experiences are only possible within the committed, but religiously diverse confines of the Pardes community.

So my family is right. I have been brainwashed. And I can’t wait to rinse and repeat.

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Community Davening at Pardes

A high-five across the mechitza when the tenth woman walks in.

Women’s liberation and Orthodox Judaism together, to some of my friends, sound like an oxymoron. Some argue that a legal system that doesn’t count women for thrice-daily prayer is inherently unequal. Others argue that to compromise an incredibly sustainable tradition that has weathered three thousand years for the sake of the trends of the last fifty years wounds the integrity and future of Judaism. How do we balance amidst this tension?

A high-five when the tenth woman walks in – really, whan any woman walks in – is a scene I have never seen in a traditional Orthodox minyan. I was walking by a synagogue just the other week and was asked to join a minyan for kaddish. That’s because I am a man, so I count. But the room holding its breath, waiting for one more woman – I had never seen that happen before in Orthodox space. I am proud that we have been able to create just such a space at Pardes where it does.

Continue reading

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[Alumni Guest Post] A Quick Thought on Liberal Judaism

by Zach Margulies (Year Program 2010-11):

One of the central tenets of liberal Judaism is that we make informed choices.  The Reform movement’s mantra of “Choice through Knowledge,” even if often ignored in the Reform movement itself, is still a significant thread that runs through the liberal Jewish world, and which I strongly believe in.  Even in the Conservative movement, which nominally adheres to Halacha, the way that Halacha is perceived by the Rabbis follows this approach.  The Conservative Rabbinical authority is not bound by the majority opinion, as in Orthodoxy, but is free to choose any opinion amongst traditional sources and elevate that as the (or a) halacha.  And with a 2000 year tradition, pretty much any opinion can be upheld by traditional sources – you just need to know how to apply them.  In other words, Rabbinic “Choice through Knowledge.”

This has been especially relevant in the Conservative Movement’s recent reappraisal of Homosexuality in Judaism, and in the not as recent reappraisal of Egalitarianism (equality between men and women).  I think none of us would argue that those were the wrong decisions, but the Halachic arguments (from an Orthodox perspective) seem a bit forced.

This is certainly how I choose to live my life.  Although much of my day to day practice falls in line with Halacha, I don’t consider myself Halachic.  I don’t surrender my free will to rabbinic authority (not even Conservative Rabbinic authority), but instead make individual decisions based on what seems right to me.  ”What seems right to me” has evolved significantly as I have become more informed, but I still have not relinquished my right to decide for myself.  I still hold firmly by “Choice through Knowledge.”

BUT RECENTLY, one line in the shma has been nagging at me.  Num. 15:37-41 (also known as the third paragraph of the Shma) is the section in which God commands Moses to tell the people to wear tzitzit (blue tassels on the corners of their clothes).  The justification (15:39) is as follows:

וראיתם אותו וזכרתם את כל מצות יי ועשיתם אותם, ולא תתרו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם אשר אתם זונים אחריהם

See it (the tassel) and remember all the commandments of the Lord and do them, so that you will not follow after your hearts and after your eyes, after which you whore.  

In other words, we say this twice daily to remind us that our hearts and eyes are deceptive.  The author understands that human nature is to do whatever seems right, regardless of what we are told.  The point of the tzitzit is to have a constant reminder that our judgement is imperfect, and that we are easily led astray by what we believe to be right in the moment.  This is not to say that humans are naturally evil, and that we willingly do wrong.  The point here is that we think we are doing right, and that sometimes we trust our own judgement to a fault.  The tzitzit is there in order to rein us in, and remind us that our judgement is not always (or in the case of Numbers, never) to be trusted over Divine Law.

This directly contradicts the basis of liberal Judaism, which tells us that sometimes, we do know better than the Halacha which has been passed down to us.  The Reform Movement understood the import of those words, and excised them from the shma, so that the “words which I command you today,” are only to “love the Lord your God” with no mention of the dangerous side of free-will.  Like much of Reform thought and practice, I support the question being raised here but not the response.

Numbers here is right; our judgement is often incorrect, especially in the moment when we don’t take time to reflect on the right course of action.  If we always did what we thought was right or justifiable, without consideration of the implications on our future practice, or more generally on the consequences of those actions, then we may easily be led astray and “whore” after flawed goals.  So far, this seems like a pretty good argument for following Halacha.

The Reform Movement, however, and Liberal Judaism in general, also have a good point.  Sometimes, after long reflection, Halacha is just wrong.  The most obvious examples are the two cited above – how can we say that God’s Law encourages the subordination of women and the exclusion of homosexuals from the community?  After a century of intense debate and reflection, society has for the most part decided that morality dictates something different than Orthodox Halacha.  And if Halacha is immoral, then it has lost all legitimacy, and does not deserve my allegiance.

That seems to leave the Conservative approach – an enlightened and liberal approach to halacha, while still retaining the halachic system.  That way, there are still community standards, but not ones we find morally reprehensible.  This seems like the best system to run a community, and it probably is. For a community to work, there must be standards and norms that people can respect, and the conservative system seems to include the best of liberalism and maintenance of standards.

Communal standards, however, are not what interest me.  I’m too much of an American to sign onto the Halachic system, in which rabbis, who may or may not have my best interest at heart, get to make every personal decision for me.  As a relatively intelligent person, I baulk at the lack of self determination.   I can abide by the idea that, in a community, we should be bound by (relatively liberal) community standards, but I still refuse to surrender my free will completely in non-communal settings.

SO HAVING rejected all communal halachic systems, I am still left with the nagging reminder twice a day that my own judgement is not always to be trusted.  The only solution, it seems, is to develop a Personal Halacha.  A system in which I am free to make decisions about my own life, but which is a system, none the less.  In investigating each issue ahead of time, I would not fall into the trap of “following after my heart and after my eyes,” and just doing whatever I like, regardless of consequence.  In creating a personal halacha, I have the best of individualism and halacha, with fewer of the dangers of each.  For this to work, it requires both consistency and knowledge.  This is essentially a return to “Choice through Knowledge,” but with the added emphasis on consistency, to safeguard against the dangers of flippant decisions.  It is also an abandonment of a term which has become an excuse to do whatever one wants, regardless of tradition.  The function of the tzitzit, then, would be to remind myself of my own standards, as informed by Jewish tradition; that I should only deviate from the tradition when I have thought the issue through, and developed an alternative personal standard.

I understand that in a personal halacha, there is no guarantee that I’m right.  But I at least find that preferable to surrendering autonomy to people I don’t trust are necessarily right, either.

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Panel of Rabbinical Students at Pardes

Happening RIGHT NOW: Panel of rabbinical students currently studying at Pardes. From Right to Left:

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[Student Profile] Samahra Zatzman

Samahra (Spring ’11) first found the words to describe her passion for ‘bridging communities’ as a York University student upon receiving the annual ‘Partnership and Outreach’ award from UJA and Hillel of Greater Toronto for activism as Hillel ‘Tzedek’ Chair.

After completing her B.A. Honors in theater and B.Ed. in education, Samahra continued to pursue cross-cultural education as the Education and Outreach Coordinator of the Ashkenaz Foundation. She developed the ‘Ashkenaz in The Schools’ program, as well as the ‘Campus Representative’ program, striving to create exciting community education opportunities, even as she began to plan the next leg of her own education: a semester of Torah study in Israel.

While planning her journey, Samahra came with Pardes alumna Deb Cole (’09-’10) to hear Yaffa Epstein teach at ‘The House’ in Toronto. Afterwards, they stood in the chilly evening air, speaking about her yearning for Torah study, and Samahra made mention of her interest in cross-cultural dialogue and education.

“My dream is to ‘bridge communities’ through the arts so when Yaffa told me about the ‘Peace & Conflict Track’, I knew I had to come! It was hard to leave ‘Ashkenaz’, but I wanted to ground my vision in Jewish tradition, and Pardes is davka the place for bridging complicated worldviews!”

Now at Pardes, Samahra’s fascination with Rabbi Daniel Roth’s ‘Peace & Conflict Track’ grows, even as she finds herself being drawn into intense, interdenominational discussions of theology in Rabbi Zvi Hirschfield’s ‘Critical Issues in Jewish Thought’ class. Not one for labels, Samahra is continuously discovering that various faith statements of different Jewish denominations speak to her.

A humanistic Zionist at heart, Samahra has now visited Israel four times on educational and volunteer programs, and she is particularly excited to maintain her commitment to social action as a Pardes volunteer for the Sulha Peace Project – working at the grassroots level to ‘bridge communities’ here in Israel.

“I think my exploration and learning at Pardes will deepen my understanding of Jewish tradition, and empower me to better understand others – I’m always keeping in mind the ‘rodef shalom’ concept – always ‘bridging communities’!”

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[Student Profile] Kara & David “Bookie” Bookbinder

Although they both hail from Los Angeles, Kara and David only met in college at UC Santa Barbara.

As a child, Kara attended Christian Science church every week with her mother, but she became skeptical about religion as a teenager, and came to identify herself as culturally Jewish. David was raised in the Conservative Jewish movement, attending Hebrew school in the afternoons and Camp Ramah during the summers.

Before they met one another on their first date, their friends “forgot” to tell Kara that David was an aspiring rabbi. The following week, Kara found herself at Hillel for the first time, and then decided to study Hebrew so that she could fully participate in the Jewish prayer service. Kara soon became one of Hillel’s most active students on campus.

In college, David worked for the Conservative Movement through KOACH College Outreach, but he gradually found himself being drawn towards non-denominational Judaism, and eventually to Modern Orthodoxy. After college, David contacted Yeshivat Chovevei Torah to inquire about their rabbinic program, and they encouraged him to spend a year at Pardes before beginning his studies.

The young couple are now very active members of the Pardes community, and of course, both have their favorite courses! Kara greatly enjoys the Pardes “Foundations of Judaism” class, as Rabbi David Levin-Kruss designed the curriculum around the students’ own questions; while Rabbi Elisha Ancselovits’ “Thinking Like a Halakhic Sage” class continues to shape the way David has come to understand halakha, Judaism, and the universe… David says that this class impacts all of his other studies.

At Pardes “we study Jewish texts for themselves,” says David with a smile, “it’s not a denominational approach to Jewish study - we’re learning from all of our classmates’ diverse perspectives!”

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one day at a time

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the future.

“But,” you say “it’s too soon to be thinking about life after Pardes.  You have until the end of May.”

Trust me.  I know.  After today, I have one hundred and sixty days left in Jerusalem.  That’s plenty of time to figure out what I’m going to do next.  And yet…I can’t help it.  I’ll be the first to admit it – I have a bit of an addiction to planning ahead.

Before I left North Carolina to come to Pardes, I got into a minor disagreement with my mother.  We were on a run to Goodwill to drop off some of my belongings (each time I go home, I spend time cleaning my room, sifting through the detritus of the first eighteen years of my life and realizing that no, I don’t really need to keep the candles I received in a high school gift exchange) when my mother asked me the dreaded question.  “So,” she started “what do you think you’ll do after Pardes?”  Despite the fact that I am twenty-three and have a healthy, wonderful relationship with my mom, I responded like an angsty teenager – snappy, short answers and eventual tears.  It wasn’t so much that I didn’t think she had a right to know – it was, after all, an innocent question – but the moment the words left her mouth I felt the dread creep in.  The honeymoon period between leaving Avodah and knowing that my life was taken care of until May 2010 had ended, because for me, once someone asks the question I am utterly incapable of not thinking about it.

One of the reasons I find this question so terrifying is that I just don’t know, or rather, I know but I have too many answers.  When you ask a child what they want to do when they grow up, you’ll get answers ranging from garbageman to superhero to a personal favorite of mine as a child, a woman (I’m not entirely sure why I didn’t realize that would happen anyway, but there you go).  It gets more complicated as we get older and our worlds expand and our options multiply.  Now when I think about the future there are so many things I want to do – I want to explore Jewish farming and food justice, I want to work with teenagers doing social justice work, I want to help American Judaism move away from a structure of denominationalism that is more destructive than creative.  I want to go back to school and get a Masters in Jewish Communal Service and Public Policy, or maybe what I want is to pursue Jewish Communal Service with a joint MBA.  I want to go back to Chicago, but I want to move to the Isabella Freedman Retreat Center in Connecticut and work on the Adamah farm.  I harbor a dream of becoming a pastry chef and spending the rest of my life surrounded with chocolate.

I can’t do all of these things.  Or, I can, but if I do I will potentially always be reliant on other people to support me and I will probably die destitute and alone shouting at the world about how it’s important to eat locally, and say a bracha but it doesn’t matter which one because we’re all Jewish and why must we apply a further label than that?  So I try and find a way to synthesize the things I want with the things I know I need to do to support myself in the world, and I try and make sure that I am always excited about what I am doing.

Recently, I have added another piece into this process – a mantra – “one day at a time.”  I write it on everything – notebooks, facebook, gchat, my personal blog, the back of my hands.  I am trying to remind myself of the simple fact that I have time to figure it all out.  And, who knows – maybe, if I’m able to take it one day at a time then by the time I need to figure it all out, the perfect opportunity to be a Jewish farmer who does food justice work with teenagers and spreads a message of intentional Judaism rather than a Judaism of labels will appear!

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