Posts tagged “judaism”

  1. Neither of my parents spoke much about their faith. My father, who grew up in Paris, was raised Catholic and had been an altar boy. He occasionally spoke to my brother and me about his belief in God but he was profoundly anti-clerical and did not want us to go to church or to receive a religious education.

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  2. I grew up Catholic -- all my dad's siblings have saint's names, and my Nana refused to speak to my mum for a while after my brother was born because she spelled Mathew with one t so it didn't count as a saint's name. This is what happens when Irish and Italian Catholics marry each other.

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  3. DeDe Jacobs-Komisar's previous dispatches from Orthodox Jewish feminism can be found here. 1. He’s great at woodworking and generally pretty handy. 2. Sometimes I ask for a cup of water and he brings me a glass of wine and it’s like whoa, how did you know? 3. He bakes amazing challah and has been known to turn out vast quantities. Sometimes fish as well. 4. He covers his Semitic face in an untrimmed beard.

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  4. Despite being raised Jewish, I didn’t really know what a Reform Jew was until I got to college. I had always heard they were less religious, but the nuances were lost on me -- I thought Reform Jews were basically just slacking off, like lapsed Catholics. My family must have been Reform, I had figured, because we went to a Orthodox temple but were clearly the least religious there. After going to NYU meeting kids…

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  5. When we last spoke, I told you about launching a feminist revolt at my Orthodox Jewish girls’ school. I hope to get back to that, eventually. But let’s fast forward about 30 years.

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  6. “What do you mean he abused her?” The question was shrill and innocuous.

    The teacher, Mrs. Stern, looked incredibly uncomfortable. But hey, she had brought it up. “He got into the bed with her, and he abused her.” Mrs. Stern shrugged her shoulders at the ambiguity of it all, as if it was impossible to know what the passage was really saying. “Now let’s move on.”

    I rolled my eyes

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  7. There's true history in this family history – the kind that can be documented by ships' manifests and fascists under oath at their own trials – but there is also family history, the kind where cousins and in-laws insist the other one is wrong, misremembering, incorrigible. Wry old men snort and amused old ladies "tch!" So we understand each other going on. Heinrich Weiss, my great-grandfather, was a brilliant jeweler, but was by all reports…

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  8. My mother has two life mottos: "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke," and "Any excuse for a party." These two serve her pretty well, and our family has adopted them for basically any situation. People tend to look at me funny when I tell them that the latter was the main theory behind my religious upbringing. My mother was raised half-Catholic, half-Jewish. She was confirmed in the Church and has a rosary her…

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