Velveteen Rabbi

[JStreet] Unofficial Israeli-Palestinian Blogger Lunch Session

I'm blogging this week from Driving Change, Securing Peace, the first JStreet conference in Washington, DC. You can follow my conference posts via the JStreet category. If you want to watch the conference as it unfolds, it's being streamed live here.

If you're new to Velveteen Rabbi, welcome. Here's some information about me, and here's my comments policy -- please read it, especially if this is your first time here. Enjoy the conference posts! And regular readers, have no fear: I'll return to my more usual balance of blogging fare in a few days.

One of the unofficial JStreet events about which I've been most excited is the Israel-Palestine Blogger Panel orchestrated by Richard Silverstone of Tikun Olam and Jerry Haber of The Magnes Zionist, which apparently got some pretty negative press in the JTA (see JTA Attacks Israel-Palestine Blogger Panel.) The line-up of panelists includes:

Phil Weiss (Mondoweiss) -- Jerry Haber (Magnes Zionist) -- Richard Silverstein (Tikun Olam) -- Dan Sieradski (formerly of Jewschool) -- Helena Cobban (Just World News) -- Max Blumenthal (Daily Beast) -- Laila el Haddad (Gaza Mom) -- Matt Duss (Think Progress) -- Joseph Dana (Ibn Ezra) -- Mark J. Levey (Daily Kos) -- Sydney Levy (Muzzlewatch, Jewish Voice for Peace) -- and Jesse Hochheiser (Across the Border)

-- a pretty impressive range of voices and opinions. These folks are pretty much guaranteed to disagree on some important issues, which is part of why I'm so pleased to see them all in one room. There are also two remote bloggers participating via Skype: Joseph Dana (Ibn Ezra) and Ray Hanania (Ray Hanania's Blog).

"The 3 topics I wanted to deal with," explains Richard Silverstein, "were Iran -- nuclear crisis and all the permutations of that; the Occupation, the Goldstone report, etc; and the relationship of the broad Left Jewish-blogosphere, the Israel/Palestine blogosphere, and JStreet, and how we're going to interact with each other as loyal opposition and give each other room to present our own opinions and to disagree respectfully." (All this over lunch! There's some wry laughter around the room.)

An interview at Read Write Poem

The folks at Read Write Poem recently revamped their website completely, turning it into a much more dynamic online community for poets and lovers of poetry. (If you're interested, you can learn more about the project, and for details on the new features I recommend the post the new read write poem: bigger and better.)

One of the new features is a series of interviews with regular RWP participants, and they graciously asked me for an interview with me! That interview has just gone live, and here's a tiny taste:

What's the most important thing a poem does?

Sanctifies the ordinary. By which I mean: A poem can cut a new facet into something mundane, which allows that ordinary thing to refract amazing light. The light was always there; we just don’t see it, most of the time. Poems can offer us new ways of seeing.

You can read the whole thing here: participant spotlight rachel barenblat. Thanks, RWP folks!

Technorati tags: poetry, readwritepoem.

A blessing of butterflies

She now knew the butterfly effect could produce a loon in her office.

But did the converse also hold true? She closed her eyes and concentrated, and the room filled with the rush of fluttering wings. One brushed the side of her face, impossibly gentle. When she opened her eyes, they were gone.

Almost. One bright monarch perched on the tendril of wisteria which snaked its way up her house, around the outside of her window, as though it wanted to bloom inside. The monarch regarded her solemnly, its wings moving like breathing, and then it lifted into the air and flew away.

What we breathe out, the trees breathe in. What they breathe out, we breathe in. The notion satisfied her. Butterflies breathe, and mint plants. The lettuces beneath their mesh, and the rabbits which skirt them, hungry.

Sometimes the internet seems to breathe. One person posts, and then another in response. She could sit solitary at her computer, facing the green world outside her windows, and never feel entirely alone. The thrum of conversation is perennial. We pick up the threads and follow them to the center of one labyrinth or another, and then we are gone, but the labyrinth remains.

The woman in leggings and a striped hand-me-down shirt scuffed her feet against the floor, contemplating the posting of comments, the flapping of tiny wings.

With her bright visitors gone, it seemed as though she ought to feel bereft, but she didn't. She felt blessed.

---

This is the fourteenth post in an online came of Consequences. Each post begins with the last line of the previous post; is (meant to be) 250 words long; and is on the theme of the individual within the community, or something along those lines.

Previous posts: No man is an island, Entire of itself, A part of the main, To belong, Be-longing, Expats, or la vie en rosé, Ex-hale, No Contest, Consequences, Consequences 10, Consequences 11, Follow the consequences, and Consequences 13. The series will conclude at Hydragenic, where it began, in a day or two.

Technorati tags: blogs, consequences.

On divisions in the J-blogosphere, and President Obama's Cairo speech

1. About Haveil Havalim

Most weeks I try to submit something to Haveil Havalim, the Jewish blog carnival. (I hosted Haveil Havalim #36 back in 2005; it's been ongoing since 2004.) It's always interesting to see what is happening in certain corners of the Jewish blogosphere.

I say "certain corners" because it has always seemed to me that Haveil Havalim skews to the right. The Jewish blogs that I read -- Jewschool, South Jerusalem, A Big Jewish Blog, Judaism Without Borders, Mah Rabu, On Chanting, Every Day and Every Night, The Jew and the Carrot, Sustainable Judaism, JSpot, Shalom Rav, Rabbis for Human Rights North America -- don't tend to be represented there. The blog carnival is opt-in only; I guess progressive Jewish thinkers don't tend to submit posts. I don't know why that is: do progressive J-bloggers not know that the carnival is there? Do we not feel represented by it, and therefore not feel inclined to join in? Do we feel awkward about self-promotion? Do we feel uncomfortable expressing our political views in a space which tends not to include the voices of progressive Jews? (That last resonates for me. I only rarely submit political posts to the carnival; mostly I submit Torah posts, because those seem less likely to spark confrontation.)

Anyway, the most recent edition, hosted by Esser Agaroth, dedicated a whole section to "The Big Speech" -- President Obama's recent remarks in Cairo -- which made me realize again that I'm coming from a very different place than the majority of the folks who submit their material to Havel Havalim. Ben Yehuda framed this section of the carnival by comparing the President to Pee-Wee Herman, and suggesting that Pee-Wee knew more about his chosen subject than President Obama does about his. As I browsed the links in that section of the post, I was amazed by how foreign I found most of the responses to the President's speech. Our perspectives differ so strongly that we don't seem to have heard the same words. 

7 things you might not know

My wonderful husband Ethan tagged me to share seven things you might not know about me. (Thanks, sweetie.) As it happens, back in 2007 I got tagged to share five things you may not know about me, so I guess these are items six through twelve on that list!

1. From the time I was twelve until I was twenty I kept an ongoing stream of diaries and journals. They were inspired in part by reading the diary of Anne Frank at the age of ten; a couple of years later I read the diary of artist Wanda Gág, and by the time I finished her book, I had started keeping a diary of my own, faithfully. When I went off to college, I left the journals from junior high and high school at home for safekeeping. A washing machine flood in my parents' utility room drenched the cardboard box I'd packed them in, and most are now illegible. (I still have them anyway.) These days I keep a paper journal only when I'm on retreat or traveling.

2. I am a serious lover of tea. My tastes are quite catholic; I like black teas, green teas, herbal teas (perhaps more properly called "tisanes," but I'm not picky), flavored teas. I love the dark umami smokiness of Lapsang Souchong, and the delicate kick of a good Earl Grey. I love Adagio's Valentines tea and Tealuxe's Monk's blend. Lately I've been grooving on a tea that Ethan's colleague Lokman brought to us from Hong Kong; I can't read the packaging, but inside the canister are little golden bonbons which, unwrapped, each reveal a tight-packed ball of tea leaves which unfurl in the pot.

Ladyblog awards

Until today I didn't know Ladyblog ("Classier than tea service. Like Fight Club, but with better hygiene. Slightly more aggro than a cucumber sandwich.") But the editors there just emailed me to say that this blog has been nominated for a LadyBlog award.

"We asked readers and fans to nominate female bloggers in five different categories (conservative politics, mommybloggers, lifestyle, religion, and entertainment)," they tell me, "and then the Ladyblog authors narrowed the nominations down to five blogs in each category." In the religion category, five blogs made the final cut:

Kafir Girl ("We read the Quran so you don't have to" -- the blog of a self-described "Pakistani American ex-Muslim twenty-something atheist")

Conversion Diary ("The diary of a former atheist" who has come to believe in God)

Velveteen Rabbi (If you're reading this, I trust you know my blog! My tagline is, "When can I run and play with the real rabbis?)

Peace for the Journey (the pull quote at the top of the blog is from John 14:27: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you...")

A Holy Experience (The pull quote is Browning: "earth is crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God")

The really neat thing for me is that I've never read the other four blogs on this list. So now I have four new-to-me religion blogs to check out. Anyway, if you're so inclined, check these blogs out and then pop over to Ladyblog to tell them which one you like best. Thanks, Ladyblog!

New VR comments policy

For the first 5+ years of this blog's existence, there has been no official comments policy. I have trusted in the general good intentions of my readers, and on the whole, that's worked pretty well.

But over the years, the community of folks reading this blog has expanded. So I decided that the turn of the (secular) year was a good time to post a comments policy. Here are five simple rules for being a part of this blog.

Rules of engagement at Velveteen Rabbi:

• 1) Be polite

  I consider my blog to be an extension of my living room. Whatever you're going to say in response to my posts, please consider whether it's the sort of thing you would say to your host or fellow guests if you'd been invited to someone's home for tea. If it isn't, then please don't say it here.

• 2) Be open-minded

  I write for a broad audience. Sometimes I may say things with which you disagree. If that happens, take a deep breath and enjoy the delicious diversity of human experience and opinion! I aim to foster an environment of pluralism, where multiple perspectives can coexist. I hope that everyone who hangs out at this blog can join me in celebrating that.

• 3) Stay on-topic

  The comments which follow posts here are a part of a conversation. So please, when you comment on a post, keep your comment germane to the subject at hand.

• 4) Own your words

When you comment here, I hope you'll do all of us the courtesy of including your name, your blog URL, and your own valid email address with your comment. (The email address will not be displayed, but it allows me to respond to you personally off-blog if I want to continue the conversation in that way.) The words you post here are yours; be willing to stand behind them. (And if your words are inappropriate, I reserve the right to delete them.)

• 5) Treat people with respect

  It is a tenet of my faith that we are all created b'tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. Every human being is worthy of respect. I expect everyone who comments here to show that respect, to everyone.

I'm adding a "comments policy" link to the sidebar, so if you ever want to refresh your memory about what the comments policy is, it will be readily available for you.Thank you, everyone, for your willingness to abide by these rules of discourse. And thanks for being a part of Velveteen Rabbi! I look forward to our many conversations in the year to come.

Technorati tags: velveteenrabbi.

Top 10 Nonfiction Posts of 2008

Every year at the end of December I post a list of my ten favorite blog posts from the year now ending. This year I've compiled two such lists: one of my favorite nonfiction posts, another of my favorite poems. (Here's the first one; I'll post the second one in a day or two.) [ETA: Top ten poetry posts of 2008.]

Rereading the year-in-blog-posts, I'm reminded of what a rollercoaster this year has been. Thanks for being part of the conversation here during 2008; here's to 2009!

---

A place where prayer can dwell. "I think our multifaceted nature is both our boon and our greatest challenge. We're a patchwork religious movement. My other Jewish identity, Jewish Renewal, is also a many-splendored thing, a patchwork quilt of ideas and practices and teachings; of course, Renewal is actively transdenominational, so a certain patchwork nature is presumed. Reform Judaism aims to be a single unitary denomination -- though one which can include, for instance, my parents' congregation (historically a classical Reform institution) and mine (which lives out Reform values in a decidedly nontraditional way.) My guess is that this siddur will challenge both of our communities, though in different ways. Maybe that's a sign that its creators have crafted something interesting and complex."

Brokenness and purity. "Why did the children of Israel save the shards of the broken tablets? Why not destroy them, or leave them behind in the desert? Surely no one there wanted to keep them as mementos of one of the community's strongest lapses of faith? But the tradition teaches us that the broken tablets were preserved as a sign that holiness persists even in our brokenness. Sometimes our brokenness, our mistakes, are what we have to offer to God...and that's worthy of preservation along with the aspects of us which are whole."

Beginning to wrestle. "During the first few years of this blog's existence, I didn't write about Israel. Because I wanted to quietly challenge the assumption that a Judaism-focused blog must necessarily be Israel-focused. Because I figured the last thing the internet needs is another person pontificating about a place she barely knows. Because most online discourse about Israel and Palestine is hotheaded and partisan. Because time and energy and passion are limited resources, and it often seems that so much of these go to Israel that little is left for other aspects of Jewish identity and experience. // All of those reasons still hold. And yet I'm beginning to grapple with what it will mean to shift this unofficial blog policy (and, more importantly, to shift the internal focus behind it) because this summer I'm going to spend seven weeks in Jerusalem."

Support Global Voices Online

Global Voices Online is one of the most worthwhile projects I know. Their Rising Voices project offers grant support to blogging groups in developing nations; they do amazing free speech advocacy worldwide; and a team of more than 200 volunteers works tirelessly to amplify the voices of ordinary people around the world (in a whole bunch of different languages.) Want to know what people are thinking and talking about in Albania? Israel and Palestine? Kazakhstan? Zimbabwe? Global Voices is the place to find out.

And they've just launched a donations campaign. Full disclosure: I was there on the day the organization was born, back in December of 2004 (here's my post from that day: Bridge blogs and global voices.) Oh, and the project was co-founded by my husband, so it's possible I'm slightly biased. But this is a project I deeply believe in, and the Global voices manifesto which began to coalesce at that first bloggers' conference still gives me chills. Here's how it begins:

We believe in free speech: in protecting the right to speak — and the right to listen. We believe in universal access to the tools of speech.

To that end, we seek to enable everyone who wants to speak to have the means to speak — and everyone who wants to hear that speech, the means to listen to it.

Thanks to new tools, speech need no longer be controlled by those who own the means of publishing and distribution, or by governments that would restrict thought and communication. Now, anyone can wield the power of the press. Everyone can tell their stories to the world...

(Read the whole thing here -- in English, Arabic, Albanian, Bangla, Chinese, or thirteen other tongues.)

This is exactly the kind of project that makes me hopeful for the internet. Chanukah begins tonight, a fine time for gift-giving. If you've got a few bucks you can throw their way, I hope you'll consider doing so. (They've got cute badges, too. Like the one at the top of this post. You don't want to disappoint the tiny kitten, do you?)

Keep the world talking: donate now.

Technorati tags: tzedakah, GlobalVoicesOnline.

Contemporary psalm at Best American Poetry

I've posted another poem at The Best American Poetry blog, this one a kind of creative version of or contemporary poetic response to psalm 147. The poem is called Seven reasons (Psalm 147.)

Psalm 147 is part of psukei d'zimrah, the collection of psalms recited near the beginning of morning prayer. This section of the service begins with an opening benediction praising God Who speaks creation into being; then comes an interlude of Biblical material; then psalms 145-150; then another interlude of Biblical material; then the closing benediction (yishtabach, also called the "blessing of song.")

There is much which is beautiful in the classical psalm which didn't make it into my poem. I begin with verse two of the Hebrew, about rebuilding Jerusalem, and verse three, about God Who heals the broken-hearted and repairs their sorrow. Then I jump to verse eight, about the One who covers the sky with clouds; then to verse fourteen, about God Who "scatters frost like ashes" and "casts out ice like crumbs." (That's in the traditional rendering.)

In commentary on this psalm (found in Lawrence Hoffman's excellent My People's Prayerbook series -- the volume on Psukei D'zimrah, naturally enough) Ellen Frankel writes, "Blessings flow earthward because of our gratitude, not our pride... What we interpret as impediments to our freedom and ease -- snow, frost, and ice -- are just the opposite in the divine household; they represent the wool, ashes, and crumbs of God's handiwork." I'll try to bear that in mind as the snow continues to fall today...

My poem owes much to zen abbot Norman Fischer's interpretive renderings of the psalms (collected in a book which I reviewed in early 2007.) Though I deliberately didn't check his book to see his version of this psalm before writing my own, I did learn from him the technique of speaking psalms not about God but to God -- embedding the I/Thou relationship in the very shape of the poem at hand.

Technorati tags: psalms, Judaism, Torah, poetry, BestAmericanPoetry.