Question: I sing in a choir and we sometimes have performances in churches. People who don't know me assume then that I am Christian (without me doing anything obviously Christian). Do I need to correct their mistake and tell them that I am Jewish?
I sing in a choir and we sometimes have performances in churches. People who don't know me assume then that I am Christian (without me doing anything obviously Christian). Do I need to correct their mistake and tell them that I am Jewish?
The answer, of course, is: “It depends.”
It’s hard to answer without having a sense of who the “people” are who are assuming that you’re Christian. Are they members of the particular church where you are singing? Are they members of the audience—who aren’t necessarily members of the church? Are they Christian, Jewish, or of some other religious identity? And how are you becoming aware that they assume that you are Christian?
Without knowing the answers to those questions, my gut reaction is this: If you are asked a direct question that inquires as to your ethnicity, your religious commitments, or your faith, then of course you should answer honestly and forthrightly. For example, if someone says, “Terrific singing! What church do you belong to?” you should let the person know what synagogue or minyan or havurah you belong to. Or if a person should say, “What wonderful singing! Your minister must be very proud!” you should say something like, “Actually, I’m Jewish, but I really appreciate the compliment, and yes, my rabbi is very proud!”
On the other hand, if someone says something that suggests that they might be assuming that you’re Jewish, but the statement is vague or parenthetical, and clarifying your identity is not germane to the discussion, then I wouldn’t necessarily go to the effort to clear the air.
I hope that this makes sense and is helpful!
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Question: What is the Jewish view on bone marrow transplants? What is the opinion on being a Jewish organ donor if Jews are supposed to be buried within 24 hours of death? [JVO Kids: 7]
What is the Jewish view on bone marrow transplants? What is the opinion on being a Jewish organ donor if Jews are supposed to be buried within 24 hours of death?
Up until a few decades ago, the notion that one’s tissues or organs could become part of another human being’s body and thereby help restore that other person’s health, was considered science fiction. Now, as we know, it is commonplace. But what does Judaism have to say about it?
To take your first question, just think: If, at little risk to your health, it would be possible to take bone marrow from your body to restore someone else’s health and well-being, could there be any doubt that this is praiseworthy?
There’s a very important principle in Jewish law known as “pikuach nefesh.” Pikuach nefesh is the mitzvah (religious obligation) to try to save another’s life, if at all possible. This is considered so important in our tradition that we may violate many other commandments, even very important ones like observing the Sabbath or keeping kosher, to fulfill it. Interestingly, pikuach nefesh originally referred to the act of removing rocks that have fallen on top of another person. This is an activity that would ordinarily be prohibited on Shabbat but which is required if it might save someone’s life. If it’s permissible to move rocks on Shabbat in order to save someone in danger, shouldn’t it be permissible to contribute bone marrow? Assuming that contributing your bone marrow is potentially life-saving, and assuming that there are no risk factors that would counsel your refraining from doing so, it is a highly worthy act to perform.
Yes, but what about organ transplants? As you suggest, Jewish law teaches us that the body should be buried soon after death. It’s ordinarily a violation of Jewish law (known as nivul ha-met, the “desecration of the dead”) to tamper with a body by, say, removing an organ. But if that act is done in order to save another’s life (or, by extension, restore that person’s health), then it is permissible. (In fact, it is hard to call it a “desecration” at all.) If, say, a person’s heart, lungs, kidney or liver can continue to live in the body of another human being, then they needn’t be buried with the dead body. Yes, if they are transplanted, those body parts will not be buried with the person in whom they originally resided; but by being transplanted they become part of a new person.
I have met people who have donated organs to others. It is clear to me how profound an act of hesed (lovingkindness) this is. I have also met people who have received organs donated by others. I know how grateful they can be. If it is within your power to donate organs to alleviate another’s suffering or prolong his or her life, I would urge you to consider doing so. If you have any doubts, just take a look at the rather moving video on the home page of the Halachic Organ Donor Society: http://www.hods.org .
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Question: How does completing a service project have anything to do with B'Tzelem Elohim? [JVO Kids: 4-6]
How does completing a service project have anything to do with “b'tzelem Elohim”?
The Hebrew words, “b’tselem Elohim” mean: “in the image of God.” They appear in Genesis as part of the creation story: “And God created the human being in his image, in the image of God [b’tzelem Elohim] He created him; male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)
Alone among all the other creatures who appear in that creation story, human beings are described as having been created in the image of God. What do these words mean? They are not defined in the Bible itself. Some Jewish philosophers have suggested that “b’tselem Elohim” refers to the human capacity for intelligent thought. Others have other interpretations. But one thing is clear: inasmuch as all human beings are understood to be descendants of the first human beings who were created “b’tselemElohim,” we too, and every other human being with whom we interact, are understood to be created “b’tselemElohim.” You might say that this is the Jewish way of saying, “all men are created equal.” (The American Declaration of Independence)
When we encounter another human being, we must treat him or her with the respect due the image of God that he or she embodies. Thus, whenever we complete a service project or do anything else that reinforces the inherent dignity of all human beings, we are expressing our faith that all human beings are created “b’tselemElohim,” and are equally worthy of respect.
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Question: If ones daughters married non-Jews, can their children and spouses attend the Pesach seder according to Jewish law and custom?
[Administrator's note: See http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=384 for a similar question answered on JVO earlier.]
If one’s daughters married non-Jews, can their children and spouses attend the Pesach seder according to Jewish law and custom?
Your question is a very interesting one. Let me first respond to its content, and then to its context. Both are important.
First, there is no halachic (Jewish legal) impediment to the presence of non-Jewish people at a seder. You may be aware that, in the Biblical era and during the period of the second Temple, only Jews were to partake of the paschal lamb, which was to be sacrificed on the eve of the holiday. But virtually since the destruction of the Second Temple in the year 70, Jews have not sacrificed an actual paschal lamb on the eve of Passover and do not eat one on the holiday, so there is no reason that non-Jewish people may not be present at and participate in a seder.
It is true that Jewish communities vary regarding the propriety of the presence and participation of non-Jewish people at the seder. In some it is less common and even frowned upon, because the particularistic aspects of the Passover tale are emphasized. The liberation of the Jewish people from Egyptian enslavement is seen as an essential -- and essentially Jewish -- particularistic responsibility. There is a greater focus in such communities on what liberation has meant and continues to means to “us,” -- meaning, to the Jewish people. Because non-Jewish people don’t share a Jewish identity, the story is not theirs, and therefore they can’t fully participate.
In other communities (such as my own), the universalistic aspects of the Passover story are also emphasized, and it is common to invite non-Jewish people to the seder. In fact, it is seen as an enhancement of the seder experience. After all, redemption from slavery to freedom remains an urgent universal concern—as well as the particular heritage of the Jewish people. Hearing and reflecting on the stories and perspectives of non-Jewish people enriches the experience for all present, both Jews and non-Jews.
Many years ago, I invited a Chinese friend of mine to a seder at my home. This was just after the reign of Mao Tse Tung. Our guest described what he had endured during the so-called “Cultural Revolution”. It was riveting. He had been separated from his family, and had had to endure hard labor and much suffering—and for several years. In the Bible, we are told that the Egyptians oppressed the Israelites “b’farech” (“with rigor”). My friend’s story helped me and the others present at that seder better understand the meaning of that word.
Now, as to the content: If the “one” in your question is you, then you are asking a very personal question. You’re not asking whether some generic non-Jewish person can be invited to some generic seder; you’re asking whether your own sons-in-law and your own grandchildren (who, surmising from your question, are possibly not being raised as Jews) can be invited to a seder—perhaps being held in your own home.
To this question there is a clear and definite answer: yes. A Pesach seder presents an opportunity—an extraordinary one—to share your understanding of Judaism and your appreciation of its traditions and values with members of your own family. How could this not be an important opportunity for keruv (drawing near) the non-Jewish members of your family?
Your question suggests uncertainty regarding the propriety of sharing one of the most intimate of all Jewish observances, the Pesach seder, with your daughters. Why? Because they have chosen to marry non-Jewish husbands? To me, it is hard to think of a better time of the year to reach out and to embrace them, their husbands and their children.
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Question: What should you do when your personal values are in conflict with a certain ethic at work? What does Judaism say about this?
What should you do when your personal values are in conflict with a certain ethic at work? What does Judaism say about this?
Given the generality of your question, it isn’t so easy to give a simple answer. After all, what “values” are we talking about? What “certain ethic”?
On the other hand, it’s fairly straightforward. If your employer is expecting you (or others in your workplace) to behave in an unethical manner, then your employer is acting unethically. You may think that you don’t have a choice – but you do. In general, in Jewish law, “Ein shaliach lidvar aveirah,” i.e., “There is no agency when it comes to transgressions.” In other words, when it comes to acting in the world, you yourself must be a moral actor. You can’t blame your unethical behavior on your employer. If you sense a conflict between your ethical principles (which I presume have been informed by Judaism, and are not simply “personal”) and those of your employer (which I presume have not), you should speak with someone in authority at work. Clarify exactly what is being asked of you (or of others). You may find that you misunderstood, and in fact an ethical quandary does not exist. But if you confirm that there is indeed a conflict, then you need to ask yourself: Do you want to act unethically? Do you want to stand idly by while someone else behaves unethically? Do you want to work for an unethical employer?
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Question: If a Jewish person who lays Tefillin develops dementia and begins to forget things is it okay for someone to help that person with the correct procedure and prayers for putting it on?
If a Jewish person who lays Tefillin develops dementia and begins to forget things is it okay for someone to help that person with the correct procedure and prayers for putting it on?
What a lovely gesture, and what a wonderful example of hesed (lovingkindness): to help a person with dementia to put on tefillin.
By doing so, you are helping to maintain that person’s connection with Judaism, with the Jewish people, with God, and with him/herself.
There is a beautiful midrash that illustrates the Jewish religious obligation to tend to our elders (and, by extension, all those with diminished capacity) with love and compassion as they begin to decline.
The background of the midrash is the story of the Giving of the Ten Commandments. You may recall that as Moses was coming down the mountain with the Ten Commandments, he hears and sees the people worshipping the Golden Calf and engaging in wild partying. In anger and disgust, he hurls the Ten Commandments to the ground and smashes them to pieces. After rebuke, recrimination, prayer and repentance, God forgives the people and tells Moses to go up the mountain again to get a second set of tablets. When Moses comes down with the second set, God commands him to put them in the Ark. But the language used (Deuteronomy 10:2) suggests that Moses was supposed to put more in the Ark than just the second set. The idea arose that Moses not only put the second set of tablets in the ark, but the sacred fragments of the first set as well, because even though they were no longer legible or usable, they were still sacred and precious, and deserved to be treated reverentially.
The conclusion is obvious. Even when our loved ones begin to lose their intellectual abilities, we should still strive to treat them with reverence and love. I think it is particularly loving and appropriate to help someone for whom tefillin were and still are important, to continue symbolically to bind the intellectual, moral and religious insights from the Torah to his/her consciousness and to his/her body, as long as possible.
I hope that this activity brings you and your loved one much solace.
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Question: I'm making the transition into observant Judaism. I've already incorporated many different aspects of Jewish life and practice in my own. The one thing that is most difficult for me is finding kosher meats in my area, specially lamb and red meat, which are meats I love to eat from time to time. Can I purchase organic meats instead, which are more accessible in my area and in this way observe Kashrut? Thanks!
I want to wish you a hearty yasher koach (“More power to you!”) for embarking on the path of Jewish observance. As many Talmudic and medieval Jewish authorities put it, living a life of mitzvot (Jewish observance) has the power to refine human beings. I believe that. Jewish observance can be spiritually uplifting, a source of deep joy, and can help you feel more connected to the Jewish people and the Jewish way of life. I hope it achieves these goals for you.
Rabbi Bradley Artson, in his helpful book, It’s a Mitzvah! Step-By-Step to Jewish Living, suggests a gradual approach to Jewish observance. I agree with him. It is far better to pursue a path of moderation, even while one is growing in observance, lest “people flee from excessively high standards to total abandonment.”
This cautionary note is certainly apt when it comes to embracing kashrut (the Jewish dietary laws and traditions). Rabbi Artson sets forth twelve stages in becoming fully kosher. These include abstaining from all pig products, refraining from eating shellfish, separating milk products from meat products, eating only biblically permitted meat, etc. Interestingly, the commitment to eat only kosher meat is number ten on his list. That’s pretty far down the line. As Rabbi Artson puts it, “For many people this is a difficult step.”
It sounds like it may be a difficult step for you. And so I would urge you to take it slowly. I like the idea of your taking the step to refrain from eating all but organic meat. Choosing to limit your diet in this way sensitizes you to the dangers (to animals, humans, and the entire planet) posed by pesticides. It also requires you to check what you’re buying and distinguish between what is permitted and what is forbidden – a process that is intrinsic to keeping kosher.
So I would urge you, at this stage, to purchase and eat only organic meat. But you shouldn’t be under the illusion that having the “organic” label renders such meat kosher. It doesn’t. Yes, organic meat may come from an animal that is theoretically suitable for consumption by Jews, but without rabbinical certification, the meat is not kosher. There is no reason to believe that the animal was slaughtered in the proper way, the blood drained properly, and the meat salted and rinsed to remove even more blood. So, although I support your preference for organic meat, and believe that this is for you a step in the right direction, be aware that organic meat is not a substitute for meat whose preparation has been properly supervised by rabbinical authorities and deemed kosher for consumption.
Given the increasing availability of kosher meat in this country, I am hopeful that eventually you will be able to find adequate supplies of kosher meat in your area. In the meantime, I want to wish you well as you continue to transition into Jewish observance. I hope that you continue to find it inviting and appealing.
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Question: Is the true Jewish ideal to sit and learn Torah all day? What about when it's at the expense of earning a living and, in Israel at least, defending your country? When did the "kollel life" become the norm and not the exception? Didn't our ancestors, even from the time of the Bible, fight battles and hold down jobs?
Is the true Jewish ideal to sit and learn Torah all day? What about when it's at the expense of earning a living and, in Israel at least, defending your country? When did the "kollel life" become the norm and not the exception? Didn't our ancestors, even from the time of the Bible, fight battles and hold down jobs?
You raise several important questions. Let me state at the outset that Torah study is, of course, a paramount Jewish value.
But should it be pursued to the exclusion of gainful employment? I think not. To me, it is clear that it is not the Jewish ideal to sit and learn Torah all day. I would hesitate to say much about what our Biblical ancestors did with their time, but I think it’s fair to say that they didn’t study Torah all day. Nor would they have perceived it to be a virtue to do so. Yes, in Deuteronomy, Joshua, Psalms and elsewhere the ideal of meditating on the Torah “day and night” does appear (see, e.g., Deuteronomy 6:7, Joshua 1:8 or Psalms 1:2). But there is no suggestion in the Bible that men or women should literally sit and study Torah (or anything else, for that matter) all day long.
To the contrary, labor – manual labor, in particular -- is highly valued. What is the reward, after all, for the God-fearer? “You will eat the fruit of your hands, you will be happy, and it will go well with you.” (Psalm 128:2) Supporting oneself through one’s own efforts is seen as a rewarding, ideal way to live; it is seen as a blessing.
In the Talmudic period, Torah study became highly valued -- and yet, even then, Torah study was understood to be only one aspect of the good life. “Yafeh Talmud torah im derekh eretz.” Torah study should be pursued together with gainful employment. (Rabban Gamliel, Avot 2:2, emphasis added.)
Indeed, during the Talmudic period, rabbis worked at all sorts of occupations: the great sage, Hillel, was a woodchopper; his contemporary, Shammai, was a builder; Abba Shaul was a gravedigger; and Rabbi Yochanan ha-Sandlar was (as his name implies) a shoemaker. Moreover, the rabbis continued to teach and to reinforce the deep respect for labor that is found in the Bible. As Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Shim’on put it, "Great is labor, for it honors the worker." (Babylonian Talmud, Nedarim 49b) (For further discussion, see “Ideal Occupations: The Talmudic Perspective,” by Hershey H. Friedman, The Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society, available at www.JLaw.com.)
In the medieval period, this perspective remained normative. “A person should find an occupation or learn a trade in order to support himself and his family and not rely on the gifts of others or their loans.” (Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz, Shnei Luchot Ha-Brit,Sha’ar Ha-Otot, Derekh Eretz 46; quoted in Avraham Steinberg and Fred Rosner, "Sources for the Debate: Torah Alone or Torah Together with Worldly Occupation," The Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society, vol. 32 (1), pp. 65-93. (1996))
The kollel, where adult Jewish males, supported by charitable donations, study Torah all day long, is a relatively recent phenomenon. Its proponents have obviously been successful at justifying or rationalizing this practice and harmonizing it with traditional Jewish teachings. Even so, the ideal of supporting oneself through one’s own labor has remained a Jewish norm. The great 20th century Orthodox rabbinic authority, Moshe Feinstein, put it this way: “A person is not only allowed but is obligated to engage in business or a trade for his sustenance; it is forbidden to say ‘I will not work, and G-d will somehow provide my sustenance.’” (Responsa Iggerot Moshe, Orach Chayim, Part 1 #111, quoted in Steinberg and Rosner.)
Perhaps Maimonides, the great medieval Jewish scholar, put it best. A physician, and perhaps the most eloquent expounder of the view that it is essential to support oneself with one’s own labor rather than to be supported by others, Maimonides inveighed against full-time study. He was adamant: it was absolutely necessary – even for rabbis and other scholars -- to engage in gainful employment as well as Torah study.
What would he think of the current situation in Israel, where tens of thousands of full-time yeshiva students live off the support provided to them by governmental largesse? Consider the following:
“Anyone who makes up his mind not to work, but to study only Torah and support himself from charitable contributions, profanes the name of G-d, brings the Torah into contempt, extinguishes the light of religion, brings evil upon himself and deprives himself of life in the world to come.” Maimonides concludes by quoting Rabban Gamliel: “Torah study not accompanied by gainful employment will lead to sin and is ultimately worthless.” (Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Talmud Torah 3:10)
Apart from this context of full-time learning, what can we say about the value of Torah study? Torah study is extremely important, not only for scholars and teachers, certainly not only for children, but for all Jews. As it is written, “… v’talmud torah k’neged kulam,” “Torah study is equal in value to honoring parents, engaging in acts of lovingkindness, and making peace between people -- presumably because, through the study of Torah, one learns not only how and why to engage in such virtuous behavior, but one develops the motivation and the commitment to do so. Studying Torah should be a daily activity, pursued before and after work. Yes, we should study “yomam va-laylah,” “day and night,” and many of us do. It is a most important mitzvah, and a particularly Jewish way to maintain and restore our souls. But it should not come at the price of supporting ourselves or our families.
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Question: My oldest daughter, now 15, has for most of her life lived and acted like a tomboy, rejecting most everything traditionally associated with femininity: dresses, long hair, girls' sports, etc. None of this was really an issue . . . we simply accepted her for who she was.
About two years ago she began to develop some mental health issues and after seeing a number of specialists, it's been determined that my eldest is actually transgender, a boy born into a girl's body. Knowing this and what happens next is, of course, complicated.
Part of the initial course of acceptance - and we accept this without condition - is that we all make the shift of referring to her now as "he" or "him". He has legally changed his name to a boy's name and his new birth certificate indicates he is male. He will be able to get a driver's license and passport that shows his gender as male as well. Meanwhile, nothing is being done surgically and he is not even taking testosterone.
I've had a few discussions with my rabbi about things like a name change, having a bar mitzvah, etc. but it is early in the process. That said, it's dawned on me over the past few weeks that I no longer have a daughter. She is gone. The person, the life I thought would be there is no longer. It's not a death, per se, but it is a growing emotional loss.
My question is "How do I mourn or grieve this loss?" It obviously doesn't rise to the level of sitting shiva but I've recently felt tempted to stand for the Mourner's Kaddish. Is that too much or inappropriate?
First, let me say that I sympathize with what you are going through.
You’ve shared how difficult this situation has been for you. You are experiencing sadness and loss, which are difficult to deal with while simultaneously supporting your son, boosting his self-esteem, and helping him adjust to his new identity – which you are also clearly trying to do.
I strongly suggest that you see a therapist who understands the issues involved in having a transgender child. You need a supportive, nurturing environment within which you can address your issues. I also suggest seeking out a support group, live or online, where you can find others facing the same challenges who can be understanding, helpful and supportive. In this regard, Keshet, a national Jewish organization that supports the full participation in Jewish life of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender individuals, can be of great help. (Keshet can be contacted at www.keshetonline.org.)
I sympathize with your desire to find a Jewish ritual that can assist you in grieving the loss of the daughter you once had. However, with respect, I believe that the mourner’s kaddish is not appropriate. Simply put, the mourner’s kaddish is for the dead, and your child is very much alive. Let me suggest instead that you work with your therapist and your rabbi to come up with a ritual appropriate for this unique situation.
With the support of your therapist, your rabbi, your loved ones and friends, and with your ongoing concern and love for your child, I am hopeful that you will be able to adjust and will be able to continue to help your son and your family face the future with love and with hope.
Rabbi Carl M. Perkins
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Question: A married friend confided that she had an affair with a colleague. They had full contact and pleasured each other sexually - completely, but short of intercourse. She now feels very bad about it and has left that workplace, as well as terminated the relationship. Her husband has no idea that anything was amiss. She wonders about the following: Is she obligated to inform him? Is she considered an adulteress? What is the status of her marriage? What can she do for teshuva?
A married friend confided that she had an affair with a colleague. They had full contact and pleasured each other sexually - completely, but short of intercourse. She now feels very bad about it and has left that workplace, as well as terminated the relationship. Her husband has no idea that anything was amiss. She wonders about the following: Is she obligated to inform him? Is she considered an adulteress? What is the status of her marriage? What can she do for teshuva?
About a decade ago, I attended a lecture by Judith Wallerstein, a psychologist who has devoted her career to studying the effects of divorce on children. One of the points that she made is that sometimes, two people may be legally married -- but are so distant from one another, so distrustful of one another, that they aren’t really married. In such a case, she said, unless the couple works very hard at creating and maintaining an honest and mutually supportive relationship, their marriage will soon be “in name only” – if it isn’t already. And once that happens, there is very little holding it together.
That’s what occurred to me when I read your very sad question. Is your friend “really” married? Does she share an essentially trusting and loving relationship with her husband -- and is the behavior you’ve described above an aberration? Or is this behavior an indication of the lack of true intimacy, satisfaction, and trust in their marital relationship?
Either way, I believe that your friend should pursue counseling to address what led her to this behavior.
Judaism does not demand total openness, even in an intimate relationship. Keeping a secret, even from one’s spouse, can sometimes be justified. (I can imagine not wanting to tell your spouse the birthday present you’ve picked out for him/her.) But keeping a secret of this kind?
At this point, your friend need not tell her husband all of the details of what transpired between her and her colleague, but she should tell her husband enough to help him realize how essential it is that they sit down and talk about their marriage with a trained, experienced and empathic counselor – if, that is, they want to remain married. Once they have found such a person, they should explore what they have in common -- and what they don’t; what they are getting out of their marriage – and what they’re not.
You ask about teshuvah (the Jewish notion of “repentance”). If teshuvah is important to your friend, all of what I have written above goes without saying. For teshuvah always begins with confession. In this case, your friend would confess what she has done, apologize for it, and vow not to do it again. Maimonides teaches us that one never knows whether teshuvah is sincere unless one is placed in the same situation again – and behaves differently. So it wouldn’t be surprising if (at least initially) your friend’s confession and apology fall on deaf ears. But the road to teshuvah often goes through challenging terrain.
It is important to emphasize that it is possible that your friend and her husband will reconcile. Infidelity of the kind you’ve described needn’t destroy a marriage, but it certainly needs to be understood, not only by your friend, but also by her husband. Should your friend successfully make amends and heal the breach in her relationship with her husband, our tradition teaches us that full atonement can then be sought.
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Question: My father is Jewish, my mother had a Catholic upbringing but doesn't identify with a religion. I was raised Jewish and had a Bat Mitzvah in a Reform synagogue at age 12. In order to be recognized as Jewish in a Conservative or other Jewish communities, should I "convert to Judaism?" Or does the fact that I've been deemed a Jewish adult by the Reform community count me as Jewish for these other communities?
My father is Jewish, my mother had a Catholic upbringing but doesn't identify with a religion. I was raised Jewish and had a Bat Mitzvah in a Reform synagogue at age 12. In order to be recognized as Jewish in a Conservative Synagogue, should I "convert to Judaism?" Or does the fact that I've been deemed a Jewish adult by the Reform community count me as Jewish?
Great question, and the short answer is this: If you want to be recognized as Jewish in a Conservative synagogue, you should seek out a Conservative rabbi and ascertain what would be necessary to confirm your status as a member of the Jewish people. It’s possible that your parents went through the necessary steps to have you converted when you were a baby; it’s possible that they didn’t. To determine what would be necessary now, you need to speak to a rabbi.
Here is the longer answer:
What is Jewishness? In some respects, it’s a feeling. For example, if a person observes Jewish holidays, has Jewish friends, and thinks of him or herself as a Jew, we might say that he or she is “Jewish,” by which we might mean that he or she has a Jewish personality or Jewish qualities, or identifies as a Jew.
But in some respects, Jewishness is more like citizenship.
I once knew someone who came to the U.S. at a very young age. She grew up in America. She dressed like an American. She spoke English without an accent and she certainly felt very American. Most people she encountered thought of her as an American -- but in fact, until she took and passed a citizenship examination (which she eventually did), she wasn’t (fully) an American, because she wasn’t a citizen of the United States.
The same is (sort of) true with Jewishness. Traditional Jewish law deems the child of a non-Jewish mother, however he or she is raised, to be a non-Jewish person, unless that person enters the Jewish people through a conversion process. Therefore, according to Jewish law, unless your parents brought you through such a process when you were a child, or you have gone through such a process since then, you are not (yet) Jewish – in the citizenship sense. You may feel yourself to be Jewish, you may identify with the Jewish people, but you’re not (yet) Jewish, in the fullest sense of the word.
If you want to be Jewish in the fullest sense of the word, I’d urge you to convert.
Now, there is a complication in analogizing Jewishness to citizenship – which is why I used the phrase “sort of” in the paragraph above. About thirty years ago, the Reform movement decided that the traditional “naturalization” procedure of conversion need not be carried out in a situation like yours. Within the Reform movement, so long as one of your parents was or is Jewish, and you’ve been raised as a Jew, you can be deemed to be Jewish – even though you have not crossed the traditional “t’s” or dotted the traditional “i’s.” That’s why you could celebrate a bat mitzvah in a Reform congregation without having gone through a formal conversion procedure.
And so, within the Reform Jewish world (which, in this country, is large), you not only feel Jewish, you actually are Jewish. So you might wonder why you need to bother to go through any procedure. But the fact remains that, among Conservative Jews, you would not be considered (fully) Jewish unless and until you went through a conversion process.
Therefore, if it matters to you to be accepted as a Jew among Conservative as well as Reform Jews, I would urge you to pursue conversion. For someone in your position, it could be rather straightforward. After all, for many intents and purposes, you are already Jewish. So your pursuit of conversion would be a far more streamlined process than it would otherwise be.
There is one more complication I should mention. Unfortunately, conversion has become highly politicized. The sad truth is that Orthodox rabbinic authorities do not, as a rule, recognize Conservative conversions. Even if you went through a rigorous study program and went through a conversion process that was fully in keeping with Jewish law (halakhah), so long as the supervising rabbis were Conservative, that would be enough to call your conversion into question in the Orthodox world. Hence, if you would like to be Orthodox and would wish to have your status as a Jew accepted in the Orthodox world, you should go to an Orthodox rabbi to ascertain what would be necessary to achieve that.
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Question: Why do [most] synagogues around the world position the Torah ark so that the congregants face in the direction of Jerusalem? What is the source for the spiritual concept that prayers do not ascend directly to heaven but rather go first to the Jerusalem Temple and from there upwards [if this is the concept]?
Why do [most] synagogues around the world position the Torah ark so that the congregants face in the direction of Jerusalem? What is the source for the spiritual concept that prayers do not ascend directly to heaven but rather go first to the Jerusalem Temple and from there upwards [if this is the concept]?
Jews have long focused on Jerusalem during worship. The reason is that Jerusalem has long been our national religious center. One way that Jews have maintained their focus on Jerusalem while praying is to face the city, and the practice of doing so is extremely old. The prophet Daniel, who was a Judean exile living in Babylonia at the end of the seventh century BCE, faced Jerusalem when he prayed:
Now Daniel … went to his house, in whose upper chamber he had had windows made facing Jerusalem, and three times a day he knelt down, prayed, and made confession to his God, as he had always done.
(Daniel 6:11)
Focusing on Jerusalem also took place during the days of the Second Temple (516 BCE to 70 CE). Groups of Jewish worshippers would synchronize their daily prayers with the Temple’s public worship. (See M. Ta’anit IV).
Following the destruction of the Second Temple, the rabbis sought to maintain this focus. In order that Jews not forget the immense national loss represented by the destruction of the Temple, they determined that the three prescribed daily worship services (Shaharit, Minchah, and Ma’ariv) should take place at the same times that daily activities had once taken place in the Temple. (B. Berakhot 26b) Similarly, they insisted that Jews focus their attention on Jerusalem by, if at all possible, facing the city (more precisely, the site of the Temple) while praying:
If one is standing outside the Land of Israel, he should direct his heart toward the Land of Israel. … If one is standing in the Land of Israel, he should direct his heart toward the Temple. … If he is standing in the Temple, he should direct his heart toward the Holy of Holies. ...
Therefore, if one is in the east, he should turn his face to the west; if in the west he should turn his face to the east; if in the south he should turn his face to the north; if in the north he should turn his face to the south. In this way the entire Jewish People are directing their hearts to one place. (B. Berakhot 30a)
Nonetheless, facing Jerusalem was never a prerequisite for efficacious worship:
Our rabbis taught: A blind person or someone who cannot orient him/herself should direct his/her heart toward his Parent in Heaven. (B. B’rakhot 30a)
Indeed, in general, they taught, “When a person prays he/she should direct his heart to Heaven.” (B. B’rakhot 31a)
Clearly, then, one prays toward, but not to Jerusalem. One isn’t sending one’s prayers to Jerusalem in order for them then to ascend to heaven; one is facing the Holy City of Jerusalem to allow it – i.e., the image of Jerusalem in one’s brain and heart -- to help focus one’s prayers.
I myself don’t imagine that my prayers are going through Jerusalem on their way to some celestial destination, but I do find much value in facing Jerusalem nonetheless. To me, facing Jerusalem is a powerful reminder that, as a Jew, prayer is a collective as well as a personal experience. When I stand before God, I stand as an individual. But I also stand as a member of the Jewish people. My individual concerns are important -- but so too are those of my people. Jerusalem reminds me of those communal concerns.
In a sense, then, I would say that the traditional Jewish practice of facing Jerusalem during worship helps me “channel” my prayers in a Jewish direction.
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Question: Is it normal or acceptable to be confused about the truth of God this day and age? Can one have doubts or be uncertain and still be a "good Jew?"
I'm so glad you asked this question because I am sure you are not alone in wondering about this.
The short answer is “Yes.”
It has always been normal and acceptable to be confused about what you call “the truth of God” (which I understand to mean, the “true nature of God”). In every day and age, human beings have wondered about the nature of the divine, and have sought to discern the true nature of God. That truth has been elusive, and our grasp of it fleeting.
Your question reminds me of the Biblical account of the flight of Jacob, the patriarch. (See Genesis 28: 10-17) We are told that in the course of fleeing from his brother, Jacob came upon a certain place and stopped there for the night. All alone, he went to sleep, with a rock as his pillow. He dreamt of angels ascending and descending a stairway (or ladder). When he awoke, he exclaimed, “God was in this place, and I, I did not know.” (emphasis added) We usually focus only on the first part of that exclamation; I’d like us to consider both clauses. Taken together, they teach us that our patriarchs were capable of theological doubt as well as theological insight.
We can point to other examples from the Bible. Moses, we are told, pleaded with God for theological insight. He begged God to let him “see” (i.e., to understand the nature of) God. “Let me behold Your presence!” he cried. (Exodus 33:18) Moses’ request was denied: “You cannot see My face (i.e., fully understand my nature) for no one can see Me while alive (i.e., no living human being is capable of complete theological understanding).” (Exodus 33:20). And when Solomon built a Temple for God, he came to understand that “The LORD has chosen to dwell in a thick cloud.” (I Kings 8:12)
I believe that these stories were written to communicate an important religious truth: despite the intensely felt desire of human beings for theological certainty, we must be content with opacity rather than clarity.
Theological understanding has been evolving as long as the Jewish People has existed. What you personally may consider to be the “truth” about God probably wouldn’t have been considered the truth about God in some previous day and age – and probably won’t be at some time in the future.
We begin the amidah (the Jewish devotional prayer, recited while standing) by referring to the “God of Abraham, God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” The reason is that each patriarch envisioned and related to God in a different way. And those differences continue. My colleague, Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, has written a marvelous book entitled, The Many Faces of God: A Reader of Modern Jewish Theologies. Each chapter sets forth the beliefs of a different modern Jewish thinker, and no two chapters are identical!
As to your second question, let me say from the outset that I don’t like to use the term, “good Jew.” But if what you are wondering is whether it is possible to be a faithful and observant Jew even if you have doubts concerning one or another theological principle, I believe that the answer is “Yes.”
Nonetheless, I would add one condition. Although it is certainly acceptable to be confused and/or to have theological doubts, that’s true so long as your doubts don’t turn into convictions regarding doctrines that are anathema to Judaism. For example, if you were to assert that you believed in many gods, or that you believed that God is visible and manifest in the world in the form of a particular human being, etc., then I think it’s fair to say that you would be veering from traditional Jewish belief. Of course, whether you are crossing a line depends on the Jewish community of which you are a part. I would encourage you to speak with your local rabbi to clarify this.
To conclude, doubting the truth of what some – even you -- may consider to be theological doctrine is understandable and acceptable.
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Question: Do Jews believe in adoption? If so, if the child is raised a Jew, including having a bar mitzvah, will the child need to undergo Jewish conversion as an adult since he does not know if the birth mother was a Jew?
The short answer to your first question is “Yes.” Adoption has a long and honorable place in the Jewish tradition, and beautiful statements in the Talmud and elsewhere demonstrate our tradition’s respect for adoptive parents. The Talmud teaches us that those who raise children born to others are regarded, according to Scripture, as though they themselves had sired or given birth to them. (See B.Megillah 13a and B.Sanhedrin 19b). Put another way, “the one who brings up a child is to be called its father (or mother).” (See Exodus Rabbah 46:5.)
We have wonderful examples of adoption in our tradition. Consider Moses. The Bible tells us that Pharoah’s daughter adopted Moses and raised him as her own child – and even gave him the name by which he would be known for the rest of his life. (See Exodus 2:10.) You may find this an awkward example, because Moses later identified with his family of origin and ultimately led a revolt against his adoptive family’s dynasty -- but our tradition has nothing but praise for the manner in which Moses was raised in Pharoah’s daughter’s household. There is also the great Jewish heroine, Esther. Esther was adopted by her cousin Mordecai after the death of her biological mother and father. (See Esther 2:7.) We even have a case recounted in the Bible of a child (Oded) being adopted by his grandmother (Naomi). (See Ruth 4:16-17.)
Of course, adoption today isn’t identical to what it was in the Biblical or Talmudic eras, but the point still holds: Judaism has long recognized, valued, and, in your words, “believed in” adoption – and it still does.
Your second question is a bit more complicated. Generally, when a child is adopted, unless it is certain that his or her birth mother is Jewish, the child is converted to Judaism at that time under the authority of a Beit Din (Jewish court). For details concerning this procedure, you should consult a rabbi. Keep in mind that each Jewish religious movement has its own understanding of what is required in order to convert a child.
It is worth noting (and celebrating) in this day and age in which children are adopted from all over the globe that, partly because of adoption, Jews now “come in all colors.” Take a look at the following poster produced by the Jewish Multiracial Network (and available from the Isabella Freedman Retreat Center Bookstore) that vividly illustrates this: http://store.isabellafreedman.org/store/JMN-poster.html .
For further information concerning adoption in the Jewish tradition, I urge you to consult And Hannah Wept: Infertility, Adoption, and the Jewish Couple, by Rabbi Michael Gold (Jewish Publication Society: 1988). (Excerpts from this book are available on the web.)
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Question: Why do women cover their eyes when lighting the Shabbat candles?
I’m going to assume that you have asked why anyone who lights Shabbat candles covers their eyes. Perhaps you asked why women cover their eyes because you have only observed women – and not men -- lighting Shabbat candles. True, Shabbat candles are generally lit by Jewish women. But in fact, according to Jewish law, Jewish men as well as Jewish women are obligated to light candles shortly before sunset on Friday evening. The reason you may be used to seeing only Jewish women do this is that men generally don’t light their own candles unless they are living alone. If they are married, it is generally understood to be the wife’s privilege to light on behalf of the household. However, in households in which men as well as women live, men may – and sometimes do – light candles on behalf of the household.
The traditional explanation given for why, regardless of our gender, we cover our eyes when lighting Shabbat candles is a bit complicated. Here goes:
Generally, when we are about to perform a Jewish religious obligation (a mitzvah), we first say a brachah (blessing), and then immediately perform the act. For example, when we say Kiddush on Friday evenings, we first say the blessings over the wine and the holiness of Shabbat, and then we immediately drink the wine. But on Friday nights, we cannot light the candles immediately after saying the blessing over the lighting of the candles. The reason is that as soon as we say the blessing, we trigger the onset of Shabbat for ourselves. And once it is Shabbat, the traditional prohibitions come into force, including the one against kindling a flame! So we have to light the candles first. But reciting the blessing should, by rights, be followed immediately by some act that relates to it. What better act than opening the eyes and gazing at the candles? Hence, (1) we first light the candles and (2) put away the matches (because we shouldn’t touch them once Shabbat has begun). Then (3) we cover our eyes and (4) say the blessing. That way, when (5) we open our eyes, the first thing that we see is the candles. It is as if they “come into being” immediately after saying the blessing.
That’s the halachic (Jewish legal) explanation. Let me add another one: closing one’s eyes and quietly pausing is a wonderful way to create a sacred meditative moment between the end of the work week and the beginning of the Sabbath.
Now you understand why Jewish women – and men – cover their eyes when lighting Shabbat candles.
Make sense?
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Question: I sometimes find it difficult to contain my emotions in front of my child when I feel that certain teacher’s methods for teaching are damaging my child’s “self esteem”. I don’t want to teach my child that it is okay to speak disrespectfully about their teacher; at the same time I don’t want my child to think that improper actions by a teacher are acceptable. Any tips?
What concerns me is that you find it difficult to contain your emotions. If a certain teacher’s methods may (in your view) be damaging your child’s “self esteem,” why is your child in that teacher’s classroom? Have you spoken (not in the presence of your child) with the teacher? With the principal? I would think that those discussions (the second, if not the first) should be able to address your concerns. If they don’t, then you should think about another school for your child. In any event, it shouldn’t be necessary to speak to your child’s teacher in your child’s presence (which, as you undoubtedly realize, is not a great idea). Nonetheless, if you have witnessed the teacher behaving inappropriately toward your child, it is important that, in speaking with your child, you not condone that behavior. It is not necessarily disrespectful to the teacher to criticize it -- and it may be disrespectful to your child not to.
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Question: My girlfriend believes that she is Jewish, but actually only her father was Jewish. She did not commit yet to undergo conversion. Meanwhile, I try to convince her that she needs to go to mikvah every month, but my friend told me that there is no point in her going to mikvah until she is fully Jewish. Please advise. Thank you.
My girlfriend believes that she is Jewish, but actually only her father was Jewish. She did not commit yet to undergo conversion. Meanwhile, I try to convince her that she needs to go to mikvah every month, but my friend told me that there is no point in her going to mikvah until she is fully Jewish. Please advise. Thank you.
This is an awfully complicated question that frankly can’t be answered satisfactorily on-line. I encourage you to consult a rabbi or couples’ counselor. Here are some of the issues that I think need to be explored:
Your girlfriend’s Jewish identity. You state that she believes that she is Jewish, but that she is in fact not halachically Jewish – by which I think you mean that you don’t believe that she is Jewish (or, in your friend’s words, “fully Jewish”). Does that matter to you? Clearly, it seems to matter – yet it hasn’t prevented you from befriending her. Is there a contradiction here? How is it that you have been willing to become the boyfriend of someone who is not Jewish – if her Jewish identity matters so much to you? And if it doesn't matter that much, why are you making an issue of it?
You state that your girlfriend hasn’t yet committed to undergo conversion, which means that she may indefinitely remain a patrilineal Jew. Yet you seem to want her to go to the mikveh each month. Is that because you are having sexual relations – even though you are not married? Under what theory is that consistent with your concerns about your girlfriend’s Jewish identity?
What is the role of Judaism in your life, and what is the role of Judaism in the life of your girlfriend? Have you talked about that? (Hint: you should!)
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Question: Naama Shafir, an Orthodox Jew, has recently gained stardom by scoring 40 points to lead the University of Toledo to victory in the Women’s National Invitational Tournament championship, a game that took place on Shabbat. She was crowned the basketball tournament’s MVP. After the game, she walked about two miles home, and did not take part in any interviews. Would it be fair to say that Naama is a great role model to all girls in general, because she is pursuing her dreams, while holding steadfast to her Jewish values and commitment to religion? Or is there a problem with her actions because she apparently violated the Sabbath restrictions by playing? How should we view what she did?
Naama Shafir, an Orthodox Jew, has recently gained stardom by scoring 40 points to lead the University of Toledo to victory in the Women’s National Invitational Tournament championship, a game that took place on Shabbat. She was crowned the basketball tournament’s MVP. After the game, she walked about two miles home, and did not take part in any interviews. Would it be fair to say that Naama is a great role model to all girls in general, because she is pursuing her dreams, while holding steadfast to her Jewish values and commitment to religion? Or is there a problem with her actions because she apparently violated the Sabbath restrictions by playing? How should we view what she did?
The challenge that Naama is confronting is our challenge. Naama's striving to excel at women’s basketball while remaining true to her Jewish identity and commitments exemplifies the challenge we face each and every day: the challenge of living with one foot in the Jewish world and one foot in the secular world. Naama is one particular person who has made – and will continue to make -- her own particular choices. They may not be the choices that we would make, but that’s not the point. I applaud her, and wish her well. When we confront similar choices, we too have the opportunity -- and the responsibility -- to do what she has done, namely, to seek to remain true to our Jewish commitments, while simultaneously pursuing our (secular, not necessarily Jewish) dreams. Sometimes, we cannot accomodate both desires. Sometimes, one or the other must give way. When that happens, we have to ask ourselves: which is more important?
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Question: Does Jewish law mandate universal health care?
The short answer is “yes” -- but the details are a bit complicated.
First, let me acknowledge that, in answering this question, I am indebted to the work of Rabbi Jill Jacobs, who devotes an entire chapter of her book, There Shall Be No Needy: Pursuing Social Justice Through Jewish Law & Tradition (Jewish Lights: 2009) to Jewish perspectives toward the provision of health care.
Second, let me issue a qualification: Jewish law arose in an age long before antibiotics, modern surgical procedures, … and health insurance. It is always difficult to apply specific rulings from the past to present circumstances, and the law in this area is no different. What we can do, though, is to examine the values underlying the relevant Jewish texts, and apply those values to the contemporary reality in which we live.
When we do that, it seems clear to me that Jewish law would support requiring everyone to obtain health insurance.
Here’s why: Judaism imposes an obligation on each and every one of us to care for the others among whom we live. If they are poor, we are obligated to provide them with food, clothing, and shelter. That much is clear, and uncontroversial.
But we are also obliged to provide the poor with medical care.
Where does that obligation come from? Some say it comes from the mitzvah (Jewish religious obligation) not to “stand idly by the blood of your neighbor” (Leviticus 19:16); others derive it from the mitzvah (stated in Deuteronomy 22:1-3) to return lost property. We are told that we are obligated to return not only a person’s donkey or garment, but “anything belonging to your fellow human being which he has lost and you have found.” (Deut. 22:3, emphasis added) That word “anything” is interpreted to obligate us to restore even a person’s health -- should it be possible for us to do so.
Moreover, not only individuals, but the community as a whole has this obligation. “Jewish legal texts impose on the community an obligation to provide financial and other resources for the ill.” (Jacobs, p. 171) A prominent 20th century Israeli legal authority, Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, stated the following:
It has been enacted that in every place in which Jews live, the community sets aside a fund for care of the sick. When poor people are ill and cannot afford medical expenses, the community sends them a doctor to visit them, and the medicine is paid for by the communal fund. The community gives them food appropriate for the ill, day by day, according to the directions of the doctor. (Tzitz Eliezer 5:4) (quoting Rabbi Rafael Mordechai Malchi; Jacobs, p. 171-172)
And the poor who are to be cared for are not just the Jewish poor. A medieval authority, Rabbi Nissim of Gerona (Barcelona, 1320-1380) noted that health care funds are specifically designated for the “poor of the world” and not only for the “poor of the city.” Thus, when it comes to providing health care for the indigent, a community must offer help to all who are in need, regardless of their ethnicity, religion, or nationality.
Therefore, we can say that if a government today were to care for its citizens in accordance with Jewish law, it would be required to provide health care to all – regardless of their ability to pay.
The U.S. federal government has recently chosen to do that by means of the insurance system that the vast majority of Americans use to pay for their medical expenses. By mandating (i.e., requiring) universal coverage, the government hopes to distribute the cost among everyone of providing medical care for the poor. The government could have chosen a different approach to fund universal coverage, but I see nothing in this approach inconsistent with Jewish law.
To conclude, Jewish law imposes on us as individuals and on the society in which we live the obligation to provide medical care to all. One acceptable means of doing this is to mandate all of us to purchase health insurance, thereby distributing the cost of this communal burden among the entire population.
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Question: Can a woman initiate a Jewish divorce if a husband refuses sexual relations?
The short answer is, “Yes” -- but a couple living in the real world is more than an element in a legal hypothetical.
According to Jewish law, a husband must have reasonably frequent sexual relations with his wife. There are several passages in the Mishnah, the 3rd century Jewish law code, that delineate the nature of this responsibility. If a husband refuses to have sexual relations with his wife, it may indeed serve as a basis for the wife to seek and obtain a Jewish divorce. This is unusual, because ordinarily a Jewish divorce requires the initiation of the husband.
But if that’s all that sexual relations are in a marriage – a responsibility – then that marriage is deeply troubled. If a husband is actively refusing to have sexual relations with his wife, the couple would want first to seek counseling before either should run to a lawyer to seek to dissolve their marriage. Sexual relations should always be voluntary, loving and mutually uplifting within a marriage. When they aren’t, it’s a sign that something is seriously amiss, and it is best to investigate that thoroughly before turning one’s back on the marriage – particularly if there are children involved.
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Question: What is the Jewish view on celebrating "saint or spirit based" days like Halloween or Valentines Day? By now they are more commercial than pagan. Is there a problem in either Jewish law or custom?
Yes, there is a problem. We are called upon not to celebrate the holidays of other faiths. This is for several reasons. First, of course, we should not engage in foreign, forbidden worship. (Think about the second of the Ten Commandments: “Thou shalt have no other gods before Me.”) Celebrating a holiday can constitute a form of worship. Second, even if our celebrations don’t constitute worshipping false gods, we should do nothing to suggest that we are doing that. We should do nothing to suggest that other religious traditions – in this case, paganism or Christianity – are somehow “truer” than Judaism, and that we believe in them. (This is the principle of “marit ayin” – refraining from doing something technically permissible because it may raise incorrect but plausible suspicions of improper activity.) Third, even if neither of these concerns is implicated, we should not “imitate the practices of the gentiles.” (See Leviticus 18:1-3) We should celebrate Jewish holidays – not those of the other peoples among whom we live. We should seek to be thoroughly at home in the Jewish tradition, and within Jewish culture – and not find our spiritual homes elsewhere.
Having said all that, is it really that problematic to go trick or treating, or to send a Valentine’s Day card to your sweetheart? Isn’t it possible that, as your question implies, our society has in fact created a new category of secular holidays? If no one today “remembers” the pagan or religious origins of these holidays, if those origins have nothing to do with the reasons that people are drawn today to celebrate them, are the concerns raised above still relevant?
That’s a good question! My own response may sound equivocal: it depends. Theoretically, it is problematic to go trick-or-treating, or to send a Valentine’s Day card to a sweetheart. But when my kids were young and Halloween came around, I found trick-or-treating to be a wonderful community-building experience for the family and the neighborhood. I found the notion that somehow I was honoring paganism absurd. Similarly, although I am not at all attracted by the historical background of St. Valentine’s Day, it has occurred to me on more than one occasion to bring my wife flowers on that day. These practices, it seems to me, have evolved far beyond their origins. “Observing” them no longer symbolizes what it once did.
As Mordecai Kaplan once wrote, American Jews live with one foot in American culture and one foot in Jewish culture. So long as that Jewish foot is firmly anchored, I wouldn’t be too worried about Jews partaking in these rather benign secular experiences.
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Question: Is there any Jewish Law-derived imperative for the private corporate owners of the recently discovered natural gas find offshore Israel to share their profits with the State to fund social programming? I know there is a controversy about this in Israel. Any solution in Jewish Law?
I am not familiar with the terms under which those whom you’re calling the “private corporate owners” of the recently discovered natural gas find acquired their rights to drill beneath the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Israel. Presumably, they leased or purchased these rights from the Israeli government through a contract. (I can’t imagine how else they could have acquired offshore drilling rights.) Most likely, in that contract the government reserved the right to tax profits or to impose other fees on the company. If that’s the case (which I think we have to assume it is – otherwise, the company would be able to sue the Israeli government for breach of contract), then Jewish law would insist that the private corporate owners live up to their obligations under the contract and pay whatever fees that the Israeli government, consistent with its contractual rights, has imposed or will impose.
But your question raises a separate question: leaving aside the Israeli government’s legal right to collect taxes or fees from the private corporate owners, is there an imperative, a moral obligation, on the part of the corporate owners to share their profits with the state? My response is simple: How could there not be? Jewish law has long imposed a duty upon Jews to care for all others who live in our society. Throughout history, Jewish communities have imposed financial obligations on their members to support the community, and no one today would seriously question whether these are consistent with Jewish law. There is always the question, of course, whether the actual fees imposed are “fair,” but that issue would appear to be settled by the finding (reported in today’s New York Times) that the rate of taxation that the Israeli government recently voted to impose on the corporate owners is “slightly below the average of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, a group of more than 30 countries that Israel recently joined.”
Without inquiring into the details of the legal agreement between the Israeli government and the corporate owners of the recently discovered natural gas find, it would appear that the recently reported imposition of taxes by the Israeli government is consistent with Jewish law.
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Question: A Jewish co-worker often uses the word “goy.” It really irks me. Is it truly Jewish to think of everyone else (non-Jewish) as an “other”? Many classical Jewish texts I’ve read seem to take this view. How can this coexist with the modern concept of plurality, and how can these texts be relevant today if they seem so offensive to the modern ear?
Great question. I think it speaks well of you that your co-worker’s use of the term “goy” irks you. True, in classical Hebrew, the word “goy” simply means, “nation.” It’s entirely neutral. In fact, the Jewish people is described as a “goy” in several places in the Hebrew Bible, and our charge is to strive to be a “goy kadosh,” a “holy nation.” But, in time, the word goy (plural, “goyim”) came to be used derogatively to refer to gentiles. Your co-worker may not be intending to use it derogatively, but the word nonetheless retains its baggage.
But it sounds as though you might be irked even if your co-worker were to use a less offensive term than “goy” to refer to non-Jews. For you are pointing to, and questioning the wisdom and relevance of, a broader phenomenon: dividing the world into Jews and non-Jews. In today’s world, you seem to be wondering, do we still need to do this? Isn’t this pernicious? Doesn’t this simply perpetuate old distinctions? Can’t we all just focus on what unites us?
I don’t think it’s necessarily offensive, in certain contexts, to talk on the one hand about “Jews,” and “non-Jewish people” on the other. The fact is, there are differences between Jews and non-Jews. The ideology of Judaism is not shared by all human beings. The history and the destiny of the Jewish people are not necessarily shared by all those who live on this planet. Pluralism shouldn’t require us to deny our differences; it should instead allow us to affirm unapologetically those differences.
So, although I agree with you that the use of the term “goy” is today problematic, I don’t agree that pluralism requires us never to speak of the distinctiveness of the Jewish people or of Judaism.
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Question: What is the Jewish view on selling one's body parts for money? Selling organs in the U.S. is illegal and would therefore fall under the prohibition of dina d'malchuta dina, but what about selling eggs, sperm, hair, or being a maternal surrogate when primarily motivated by cash rather than to do a mitzvah?
Selling body parts is deplorable. We don’t need secular law to teach us of their dubious moral standing. According to the Jewish tradition, our bodies ultimately do not belong to us; they belong to God. This is why we are not free to do whatever we want with our bodies. We may not, for example, deface or mutilate our bodies – even if we personally wouldn’t mind doing so.
On the other hand, this does not preclude us from donating a kidney or some other organ not necessary for our survival in order to save or preserve someone else’s life. Were we to do so, our selfless generosity would be commendable, and the act would be exemplary. Similarly, it is a beautiful gesture to donate sperm or eggs to individuals who wish to become parents, or to serve as a maternal surrogate. In such cases, there is nothing wrong with compensating donors for their time, expense and effort, and for the risks that they undertake, but to provide payment for the donation itself is problematic. It raises the notion (and the danger) of the “commoditization” of the human body.
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Question: Is there a Supreme Being that created man or did man create a Supreme Being because of a need not to be alone in the Universe?
Is there a Supreme Being that created man? Or did man create a Supreme Being because of a need not to be alone in the Universe? Received on 12/07/2010
The first question is not a scientific question but a religious one -- and an important one at that. Of course, it is not an easy one to address.
I am not sure, for example, that we could all agree on what we mean by the notion that “a Supreme Being created man.” Fundamentalists might mean one thing by it and I might mean something else entirely. For example, although I feel very reverential toward the Bible, the theory of evolution makes perfect sense to me and is entirely consistent with my religious belief. I reject a fundamentalist, literal reading of the early chapters of Genesis.
The Bible is, for me, neither an historical text nor a scientific one. It doesn’t even purport to present a factually accurate history of the world. (If it did, it wouldn’t present multiple, mutually inconsistent accounts of the same events, such as the creation of the world.) Instead, the Bible is a religious text, designed to help us understand our place in the world – and our responsibilities as human beings. The Biblical notion that a Supreme Being created humankind “in His image” (Genesis I:27) or formed the first human being out of the dust of the earth and blew life into its nostrils (Ibid. 2:7) are, for me, poetic rather than literal descriptions of creation. There is truth to them, but it is the truth of spiritually sensitive poets rather than that of journalists, historians or scientists.
There are other ambiguities. For example, what exactly do we mean by a “Supreme Being” in the first place? There are huge differences, among believers and non-believers alike, in formulating such a conception. (After all, in the two texts from Genesis quoted above, two different Hebrew names for a Supreme Being are employed.)
Leaving aside these ambiguities, there is no empirical evidence for why the universe came into being. If there were, there would be no reasonable disagreements regarding the role of a Supreme Being in the process. Depending on the result, all scientists would either be religious – or not. And of course that’s just not the case. One simply cannot address this question as an empirical matter, because there is no convincing evidence one way or the other.
On the other hand, let’s consider the question, “Did man create a Supreme Being?” By that question I think you mean, “Did human beings create the idea of a Supreme Being?” Well, yes. Over time, human beings, upon reflecting on the ultimate mystery of the universe, came to believe that behind (or beyond) the world as we know it, there is some sort of existence – a “being,” if you will. “Being,” in fact, is the meaning of the root of the four letter Hebrew name for God, the name that we do not vocalize out of respect for its holiness. That “being” may not be accessible to our powers of observation, but to those who have faith in its existence it is no less real for that.
Another Hebrew name for God is “Ha-Makom,” which means, “The Place.” In the Talmud it is explained that God is called “The Place,” because “the world is not the place in which God can be located; God is the place in which the world can be located.” Such a name makes it clear that a truly “Supreme Being” is beyond the material, physical world in which we live.
So, yes, the idea of a Supreme Being is the creation of human beings. But I don’t believe that human beings came up with this sublime idea because they were lonely. I believe that they came up with this idea because it made sense to them, because they believed that it truly reflects the underlying reality of the universe.
Scientists can explain many things to us, but, as I discussed above, they cannot explain why the universe came into being. And unless and until they can (and I for one cannot imagine that this mystery will ever be susceptible to scientific inquiry), men and women who seek to understand our place in the world will be forced to employ their intuition and to speculate. There’s just no getting around that. And among those speculations will be religious ones, which some men and some women will choose as their guiding principles. As the Bible teaches, “The righteous shall live by his (or her) faith.” (Habakkuk 2:4)
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Question: Is it preferred for an intermarried family, in which there is a celebration of both Jewish and Christian traditions, both to light a Chanukah menorah and to decorate a Christmas tree in their home, or should they just have the Christmas tree? In particular, what is preferred when the circumstances involve the teaching of their children about Jewish tradition? What is best way for them to proceed?
Ah, the December dilemma! Let me be straightforward. I believe that children should be raised with unambiguous religious identities – even if their parents’ faith traditions are different from one another.
It is, of course, edifying for children to learn about other religious traditions – especially if one of their parents has a religious identity different from their own. But there’s a difference between educating children regarding how other people celebrate holidays -- which I think is a good thing – and expecting a child to observe other people’s holy days -- which I don’t think is a good thing.
One’s religious practice should flow from one’s religious identity. Jews with strong Jewish identities naturally celebrate Jewish holidays, whereas Christians are naturally drawn to celebrate Christian holidays.
If one is raising Jewish children, they should, of course, be taught about Hanukkah, encouraged to light hanukkiot (Hanukkah menorahs), and celebrate the holiday.
And what should they do when Christmas comes around?
I don’t believe that they should celebrate Christmas, but if one of the parents in the household is Christian and wants to observe Christmas, I don’t see anything wrong with the others in the household (including the children, even if they are Jewish) helping that parent accomplish that goal.
Can this be done without compromising the religious identity of the Jewish children? I think so. In the words of Jewish educator Joel Grishaver, Jews should feel free to “visit” Christmas, but shouldn’t themselves observe the festival. If a Christian parent in an interfaith household needs some help, for example, decorating a Christmas tree, then the others in the household can and should be responsive. Why? In order to help that parent celebrate his or her holiday -- which is a beautiful gesture.
The critical distinction is this: whatever the Jews in the household (including the children) do in connection with a Christmas tree in the home, it should be with the awareness that the tree is not there for them; it is not there to help them celebrate their holiday. Their involvement with it is a way of lovingly helping their (non-Jewish) parent celebrate his or her religious festival.
That, it seems to me, is very much in the spirit of the season -- whatever one’s religious tradition.
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Question: I get very frustrated when members of my Jewish community say they don't have time to be involved in the Federation or synagogue or other organizations because they're too busy with their job and/or family. We're all busy with the personal aspects of our lives, but some of us make time to be leaders in the Jewish community because we want to see it flourish. What is reasonable to expect from people in the Jewish community in terms of volunteering their time and resources?
I get very frustrated when members of my Jewish community say they don't have time to be involved in the Federation or synagogue or other organizations because they're too busy with their job and/or family. We're all busy with the personal aspects of our lives, but some of us make time to be leaders in the Jewish community because we want to see it flourish. What is reasonable to expect from people in the Jewish community in terms of volunteering their time and resources?
It’s possible that you are sharing some of your frustration, and that this is discouraging people from getting involved. I wouldn’t attempt to “guilt-trip” people into volunteering their time for the community. Instead, I would be sympathetic when people tell you that they are too busy. They probably are, and it could be that by saying “No,” they are exercising good judgment.
Yes, we all must contribute in order for the community to flourish. But different people serve the community in different ways. It’s been said that we Jews serve with our heads, our hearts and our hands. Some are eager to join committees; others want nothing to do with them. Some are great fundraisers; others feel very awkward asking others to contribute money. Some are terrific at organizing; others want to be told what to do. For some Jews, Federation is the proper vehicle for service. For others, it is the synagogue. Some are at their best volunteering in soup kitchens; still others make great Jewish Big Brothers or Sisters.
The challenge in motivating volunteers is to channel a person’s desire to serve in such a way that he/she can feel fulfilled, knowing that his/her contribution can really make a difference. The next time you ask someone to volunteer, try to imagine what you would most want to do if you were in that person’s shoes. And then ask him/her to consider doing it!
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I don’t see why not. Freemasonry is a fraternal order open to members of a wide variety of religious faiths and traditions. True, members are asked to declare belief in a “supreme being.” But the nature of that belief is not specified nor is the nature of the “supreme being” in which a member is required to believe. An observant Jew certainly could testify to belief in a “supreme being” – and, for that matter, to behavior furthering that belief. Freemasonry does involve rites and rituals that may seem vaguely Christian or pagan. But these rituals do not, to me, necessarily appear to be contrary to Jewish faith or practice. (As with any organization in which both Jews and non-Jewish people are involved, an observant Jew would have to take steps to avoid violating mitzvot (such as those involving Kashrut or Shabbat) whose observance is not required of non-Jews.)
The fact is, Freemasonry opened itself up to Jews relatively early. Many Jews, in this country in particular, have been drawn to Freemasonry for many years as a universalistic and humanistic channel for charitable pursuits.
Free disclosure: One could argue that I have no business answering this question in the first place because my beloved late father, alav ha-shalom (may he rest in peace), was a Freemason. Indeed, I recall how, in his modest way, he was proud to be one. For my father, Freemasonry was a meaningful way to live out the values to which he was devoted, and it provided important fellowship.
My father was a dutiful, devoted, and proud Jew – and a proud Mason. As far as I’m concerned, that answers the question!
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Question: I just found out there is medicine made from pigs, like insulin and some others. Is this kosher, coming from a pig and being medicine and not food? And on the other hand, there are also organ transplant components made from parts of a pig (like skin, and some internal organs). Is this kosher? The pig is not being eaten, it is just the source of the transplant component. If we can use human transplant components (which certainly aren't kosher to eat!), can we use pig transplant components? Thanks!
I just found out there is medicine made from pigs, like insulin and some others. Is this kosher, coming from a pig and being medicine and not food? And on the other hand, there are also organ transplant components made from parts of a pig (like skin, and some internal organs). Is this kosher? The pig is not being eaten, it is just the source of the transplant component. If we can use human transplant components (which certainly aren't kosher to eat!), can we use pig transplant components? Thanks!
In Judaism, saving a life is a supreme value. There are only three mitzvot (Jewish religious obligations) that cannot be violated in pursuit of saving a life. One may not kill another human being, one may not violate the traditional sexual prohibitions and one may not desecrate God’s name. Therefore, even if we were speaking of the actual eating of non-kosher flesh (such as pork) which the laws of kashrut forbid, if one’s doctor prescribed it in order to safeguard one's life, and one’s purpose in treatment was to keep oneself alive and healthy -- rather than to desecrate God’s name --, there would be no objection.
There is a passage in the Mishnah that conveys this principle vividly: Regarding Yom Kippur, a solemn fast day in the Jewish calendar, the text reads, “If a pregnant woman smelled food [and grew faint] -- they feed her until her spirits are restored. A sick person – they feed him on the instruction of experts. If there are no experts available, they feed him on his own instructions, until he says, ‘Enough.’ If one is seized by a ravenous hunger, they feed him, even unclean things, until his eyes are enlightened. …” (M.Yoma 8:5-6)
On the other hand, the use of organ transplant components from animals poses no objection whatsoever. The laws of kashrut only apply to the eating of flesh, not its use, even to repair or replace parts in the human body.
Regarding medicines from non-kosher sources which are ingested, if one’s malady is not life-threatening, or if equally effective medicines from kosher sources are available, then one should pursue kosher medicines.
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Question: If a person has a terminal illness what does Judaism say about that person ending their own life?
If a person has a terminal illness what does Judaism say about that person ending their own life?
According to Jewish law, suicide in such a case would be prohibited. We do not have the right, under Jewish law, to end the lives that God has provided to us. Even if, God forbid, we were to be suffering from a terminal illness, it would be forbidden for us to take steps whose goal would be to hasten our demise. It would also, moreover, be forbidden for someone to assist us in taking our own life.
On the other hand, suffering is, in general, not seen as virtuous in our tradition, and steps should be taken to diminish the suffering of all those who suffer, particularly those who suffer from terminal illnesses. It may very well be physical pain or emotional distress that leads a terminally ill person to consider suicide. If the pain is addressed (which it should be) and the emotional distress is addressed (which it also should be), we would hope that the desire to end one’s life would diminish as well.
Sometimes, there may appear to be a conflict between the mitzvah to refrain from hastening someone’s death and the mitzvah to alleviate suffering. In such cases, it is helpful to consult with a rabbinic authority knowledgeable in Jewish medical ethics.
For a fuller discussion of the nuances of this very sensitive topic, please consult Elliot Dorff’s Matters of Life and Death (Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia: 2004).
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Question: Shalom. How do you in Judaism 'Honor your Father and Mother' when you disagree, argue, debate, and disagree some more, and they don't respect you? Isn't it better to agree to disagree and stay distant, than to be in their presence and be disrespectful? Like David to Saul? Jeroboam to Solomon? [sic]
Shalom. How do you in Judaism 'Honor your Father and Mother' when you disagree, argue, debate, and disagree some more, and they don't respect you? Isn't it better to agree to disagree and stay distant, than to be in their presence and be disrespectful? Like David to Saul? Jeroboam to Solomon? [sic]
Honoring our parents is a very important mitzvah (religious obligation) within Judaism. Its source is none other than the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:12). Jews consider it the pivotal fifth commandment, serving as a bridge between the first four, which are obligations we owe to God, and the last five, which are responsibilities toward our fellow human beings. Indeed, the rabbis compare the honor due our parents with the honor we owe God. “When a person honors his father and his mother, God says, ‘[It’s] as though they had honored Me.’ ” (B.Kiddushin 30b)
According to the Talmud, honoring parents means providing them with food and drink and clothing, and “leading them in and out.” In other words, we should provide our parents with all their physical needs, which becomes particularly important as they get older. And we should do this respectfully. There are stories in the Talmud about children who gave their parents rich food, but in a manner that was demeaning. Then there are other children who, though unable to provide very much, did what they could for their parents with kindness and good cheer. Needless to say, it is the latter who are extolled.
Honoring one’s parents can and should be undertaken even if you “disagree, argue, [and] debate” with your parents.
You don’t have to agree with your parents – and they don’t have to agree with you – for you to honor them. (Incidentally, there is a separate mitzvah, “revering one’s parents,” that provides guidance concerning how respectfully to disagree and argue with our parents.) If your parents don’t respect you, it may not be easy to behave respectfully toward them, but unless they are doing considering more (and considerably worse) than disagreeing with you, the duty to “honor” them appears to remain.
It is certainly better to agree to disagree with your parents than to be disagreeable. If that distances you from your parents, that is unfortunate, but it is preferable to being disrespectful.
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Question: Is masturbation a 'sin' according to Jewish law?
I am not married, and find it very hard not to engage in this behavior. How would you suggest a single man abstain from masturbating, if it is not permitted?
Is masturbation a 'sin' according to Jewish law? I am not married, and find it very hard not to engage in this behavior. How would you suggest a single man abstain from masturbating, if it is not permitted?
I would say that this is not the kind of question that can be fully addressed in this rather impersonal forum. It may be helpful to know what the Jewish tradition has to say about masturbation, but advice regarding what to do with that information should be provided in a more modest venue. I would encourage you to consult with a rabbi familiar with the evolution of the Jewish tradition’s approach to this matter.
There is no question that traditional Judaism frowns on masturbation. Throughout history, rabbinic authorities raised a host of concerns regarding it – without, though, locating a secure biblical basis for the prohibition. The biblical story of Onan’s “waste of seed” (Genesis 38) served as a powerful anchor for traditional Jewish society’s disapproval of masturbation -- though Onan’s sin was seen to be his unwillingness to sire a son in his brother’s name, not the particular means he chose to refrain from doing so. Masturbation was seen as an example of excessive sexual activity, which rabbinic authorities such as Maimonides considered bad for one’s health, and the Jewish mystical tradition understood masturbation to have dangerous cosmic consequences.
As Rabbi Elliot Dorff points out in his book, Matters of Life and Death: A Jewish Approach to Modern Medical Ethics, pp.116-120 (Philadelphia: JPS, 1998), liberal Jews today largely ignore or reject the traditional prohibition, for several reasons. First, they see no evidence that masturbation has the deleterious medical consequences that our ancestors believed it did. Second, few accept the Jewish mystical tradition’s depiction of its dire results. Finally, notwithstanding a certain hesitation toward expressing outright approval, many today think of it as an understandable, normal, and not immoral means of discharging sexual tension.
Rabbi Elliot Dorff concludes his discussion of this topic by saying, “Masturbation in and of itself … should no longer carry the opprobrium it had for our ancestors.”
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Question: What is the best advice you can give to a victim of domestic violence, whether a spouse, parent, child, boyfriend, girlfriend?
My response is to get help. Immediately. Speak with an advisor you trust and with whom you can speak confidentially, such as a rabbi or a therapist, to help you weigh the pros and cons of various approaches. If you don’t have such an advisor, contact a local domestic violence help line. (An example of such an organization in the Washington, D.C. area is the Jewish Coalition Against Domestic Abuse (JCADA), whose website is www.jcada.org and whose confidential help line number is 1-877-88-JCADA.)
A domestic violence professional will support you and can help you find safety. He or she will help you develop a plan of action, which might include contacting the police -- as awkward, as uncomfortable, or as unfamiliar as it may be for you to do this. The police can recommend prudent steps you can take to protect yourself and others. In some cases, a restraining order may be called for. In other cases, an arrest might be appropriate.
One thing should be clear: if you are the victim of domestic violence, you are being mistreated. Such behavior cannot be justified either by Jewish law or Jewish tradition. Especially within an intimate relationship, we Jews are called upon to be respectful and loving. The value we should be striving for within our families is “sh’lom bayit” -- “domestic harmony.” Someone who threatens violence – or who carries out acts of violence – against members of his or her household (or against a romantic partner) is behaving sinfully, and should be stopped.
You may be in danger, and your first obligation in such a situation is to protect yourself. “Im ein ani li, mi li?” – “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” asks Hillel (in Pirke Avot). Often, victims of domestic violence are made to feel that they are somehow responsible for their own abuse, and they therefore may be tempted to keep silent, and to refrain from revealing the abuse. This simply encourages the abuser to continue his or her abhorrent behavior. If you don’t speak up, who will?
Not only is it a mitzvah (Jewish obligation) to protect yourself, but you also have an obligation to protect other vulnerable people. Particularly if they are children, you should take steps to insure that they will not be harmed.
You may be tempted to refrain from taking such steps. You may feel ashamed, or ambivalent about exposing your domestic abuser. Such feelings are natural – but they should not be allowed to dissuade you from speaking up. Ultimately, speaking up is not only the best thing you can do for yourself and other potential victims, but for the abuser as well.
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