June 11, 2015

why women should thank President Rivlin

I have a lot of personal connections to the Masorti movement, and in particular to the program that helps children with disabilities celebrate bar and bat mitzvahs. But I think we all can relate to the feeling of powerlessness when you're told your actions/opinions/accomplishments simply don't count.

But I see a silver lining in President Rivlin's dissing of the movement this week.

I’m super excited about the decision of Israeli president Rivlin to reneg on his promise and barr Masorti/Conservative rabbis from participating in a bar mitzvah program conceived and executed by the Masorti movement. It means that full women’s religious equality is just around the corner.!

Before you pull something rolling your eyes, hear me out. Why would this program, which the Masorti movement runs all over Israel, be a “Conservative” undertaking? The Masorti movement was addressing a particular need in Israeli religious life. Mainstream Orthodox rabbis refused to officiate at actual bar (and certainly BAT) mitzvah ceremonies for children with a host of disabilities, claiming that halakhically, these children would never be obligated for prayer, and therefore could not have an aliyah, the centerpiece of most every bar mitzvah celebration. So families were drawn to programs run by the Masorti movement, where their children would be permitted to have a complete service, and be recognized as full-fledged members of the adult religious community.

March 22, 2015

On Passover. And Bibi. And Nazis.

by Leah Bieler

Some events in the past few weeks reminded me of a story from years ago. In Huffington Post religion, I discuss the relative merits of ignoring unreasonable voices, and of calling them out.

A number of years ago, a prominent member of congress, a Christian, was a guest at our seder. Though he was a friend, we had assumed that he would never make it past dessert, if that long. Over the years, plenty of Jews had politely excused themselves as the afikomen was being passed around just before midnight, gently shaking their heads while a bunch of still wide awake kids continued to sing out loud and strong in way-past-everybody's-bedtime territory.

But our politician friend surprised us. He energetically participated in the discussion, and he was still standing as we began to clear the tables around 1am. He nearly begged to help with the cleaning, but we thought the kashrut issues too difficult to explain to a novice in the middle of the night, after all that wine. Still, he insisted.

"At least let me load the dishwasher."

March 3, 2015

Proud to be from Shushan, or what Bibi could learn from the Purim story

by Leah Bieler

I am not a Purim fan. If this offends, I am sorry. Here is my featured blog on Times of Israel which explains my crazy minority opinion, and tries to find something to learn from Purim for diaspora Jews today.

I dread Purim. There. I’ve said it. I’m aware this is an unpopular opinion. But hear me out. I have empirical evidence.

The holiday always seems to sneak up on me, as I scramble to shop for mishloach manot bags and costume accessories, hamantasch fillings and face paint to replace last years’ dried out mess.

In our egalitarian household, somehow all this preparation falls on me, as the kids demand that only Ima can properly bake the cookies with them and put together the Purim ensembles.

Once all the preparation is complete, the lead up to the holiday is a sunup to sundown fast, which seems invariably to fall on my birthday. As evening approaches, the fasting headache is cemented by a shul filled with a hundred screaming children hyped up on candy and brandishing foam swords.

December 15, 2014

why Jews should ride with Muslims in Sydney

by Leah Bieler

Watching the events in Sydney unfold, I somehow ended up thinking about what it means to take responsibility for our entire community, even when they fail us. Here's my take on this question in The Forward.

My ears perked up when I heard the news about a potential terror attack at the Lindt Chocolat Cafe in Sydney. “Potential” terror attack, because for a while the nature of the situation was unclear. And then came the now-familiar black flag with white Arabic lettering, and what was murky became just a tiny bit clearer.

For some reason, my thoughts went to what this moment must feel like for the average Muslim living in Australia. Or in London. Or in my own New England city. Because that is an emotion I recognize. Though they had nothing to do with the crime, I imagine that these Muslims experienced that all-too-familiar feeling, that gnawing fear deep in the stomach, that in my house is called, “Oy. Not good for the Jews.”