Home Sweet Home

Got home today from CA. I haven't the foggiest idea about where to start with writing about it, so I think it'll just come out in whatever random thoughts I have over the next while, or I could make you folks ask me about whatever you want to know about my life in the month away from the computer or something. Feel free to ask, otherwise take your chances.

But many many thanks to the people who wrote me or (shala I'm looking at you) sent me things (the cup was a fabulous escape from styrofoam for me, and the jelly beans were appreciated all around the table), and I'm sorry that around the last week (when I finally got this giant flood of mail) I stopped writing back, having hit the level of overload and time-stuffing that caused me to stop even journalling for a while.

Ok, reasonable LJ-ing should resume very soon now. Really. I mean it.

Home Sweet Home

Got home today from CA. I haven't the foggiest idea about where to start with writing about it, so I think it'll just come out in whatever random thoughts I have over the next while, or I could make you folks ask me about whatever you want to know about my life in the month away from the computer or something. Feel free to ask, otherwise take your chances.

But many many thanks to the people who wrote me or (shala I'm looking at you) sent me things (the cup was a fabulous escape from styrofoam for me, and the jelly beans were appreciated all around the table), and I'm sorry that around the last week (when I finally got this giant flood of mail) I stopped writing back, having hit the level of overload and time-stuffing that caused me to stop even journalling for a while.

Ok, reasonable LJ-ing should resume very soon now. Really. I mean it.

Stuff From Lishma: Thoughts on Kittel [Again]

So, for a repeat performance...

Rabbi Shawn (the primary teacher we had the second half of Lishma), towards the end of the program, proved herself to be just as much a pro-ritualwear nut as I could encounter (which yes, is a compliment coming from me). We did a brief shiur on the High Holy Days (or whatever you want to call them), and her comment was that we should all go out and get a kittel and wear it- that it was only $40-50 and that it would last, and be worthwhile.

She paired it with a midrash that was rather frighteningly powerful, about how in the desert, the Children of Israel would, once a year, each dig holes in the ground- basically graves, and sleep, or at least lay down, in them all night, and whomever was meant to die that year would simply not wake up in the morning, and the rest of the People would get up and continue on their way. Yom Kippur, as the day all the judgements are sealed, is very much like that night in the desert, in her view. That reading of the holiday conflicts rather with the one that Rabbi Lehmann presented a year or two ago, which suggested that the reason that we fast is that we just don't want the distractions of regular life- not that we're imitating death, but that we're putting off the distractions of life for the day. This reading suggests that Yom Kippur is a much More liminal-status sort of day, where one really is preparing either for a new life or for death, almost a womb-state of being neither alive nor dead.

Which brings me back to the kittel, which has that similarity to a shroud on the one hand, and is the pure white of rebirth at the same time. It's a marvelous metaphor and physical expression of internal status- and those symbols really do help the internal stuff happen. She also pointed out (I think this was in conversation rather than official class-time, but I'm not really remembering clearly where that transition happened) that in many shuls, the HHDs are people's time to show off new clothes and therefore monetary status, etc- and that the kittel prevents that from being an issue during davening. Being at school, I've never noticed that beign an issue at all (and if it was when I was a kid, I was never aware of it, which means rather little). Nevertheless, that strikes me as a rather smart idea.

At the same time, I still have this rather odd discomfort with the idea. First off, usually I only see the rabbi and the sha"tz wearing them, and especially if I'm running around gabbaying again, it would be better not to distract people more than necessary, nor do I want to appropriate any more official-ness than I must. But that may be mostly a cover-up issue for this sort of unreasonable discomfort that I don't quite understand. Maybe the garment, especially in this context, is supposed to stir up that sort of discomfort: I don't think anyone is supposed to feel comfortable with the acknowledgement of potential imminent death- especially someone in the "nothing-can-hurt-me" 20s. Maybe that discomfort is Exactly what I should be feeling, and is a good reason to get one and wear it. Or maybe it means that the idea hasn't sunken in sufficiently now, and I should re-evaluate next year: often ideas do just need time to get comfortable in my head.

Stuff From Lishma: Thoughts on Kittel [Again]

So, for a repeat performance...

Rabbi Shawn (the primary teacher we had the second half of Lishma), towards the end of the program, proved herself to be just as much a pro-ritualwear nut as I could encounter (which yes, is a compliment coming from me). We did a brief shiur on the High Holy Days (or whatever you want to call them), and her comment was that we should all go out and get a kittel and wear it- that it was only $40-50 and that it would last, and be worthwhile.

She paired it with a midrash that was rather frighteningly powerful, about how in the desert, the Children of Israel would, once a year, each dig holes in the ground- basically graves, and sleep, or at least lay down, in them all night, and whomever was meant to die that year would simply not wake up in the morning, and the rest of the People would get up and continue on their way. Yom Kippur, as the day all the judgements are sealed, is very much like that night in the desert, in her view. That reading of the holiday conflicts rather with the one that Rabbi Lehmann presented a year or two ago, which suggested that the reason that we fast is that we just don't want the distractions of regular life- not that we're imitating death, but that we're putting off the distractions of life for the day. This reading suggests that Yom Kippur is a much More liminal-status sort of day, where one really is preparing either for a new life or for death, almost a womb-state of being neither alive nor dead.

Which brings me back to the kittel, which has that similarity to a shroud on the one hand, and is the pure white of rebirth at the same time. It's a marvelous metaphor and physical expression of internal status- and those symbols really do help the internal stuff happen. She also pointed out (I think this was in conversation rather than official class-time, but I'm not really remembering clearly where that transition happened) that in many shuls, the HHDs are people's time to show off new clothes and therefore monetary status, etc- and that the kittel prevents that from being an issue during davening. Being at school, I've never noticed that beign an issue at all (and if it was when I was a kid, I was never aware of it, which means rather little). Nevertheless, that strikes me as a rather smart idea.

At the same time, I still have this rather odd discomfort with the idea. First off, usually I only see the rabbi and the sha"tz wearing them, and especially if I'm running around gabbaying again, it would be better not to distract people more than necessary, nor do I want to appropriate any more official-ness than I must. But that may be mostly a cover-up issue for this sort of unreasonable discomfort that I don't quite understand. Maybe the garment, especially in this context, is supposed to stir up that sort of discomfort: I don't think anyone is supposed to feel comfortable with the acknowledgement of potential imminent death- especially someone in the "nothing-can-hurt-me" 20s. Maybe that discomfort is Exactly what I should be feeling, and is a good reason to get one and wear it. Or maybe it means that the idea hasn't sunken in sufficiently now, and I should re-evaluate next year: often ideas do just need time to get comfortable in my head.