Uncategorized
The life-changing magic of washing your hands (on Passover)
(JTA) — At the height of the pandemic, I remember maddeningly washing, scrubbing and antibacterial-spritzing my hands in a bathroom along the New Jersey Turnpike. I then Olympic speed-walked to my car and rubbed my hands down again with a disinfecting wipe.
In those days of social distancing, the basic Jewish ritual of handwashing before meals — tossing water three times over each hand from a communal pitcher — felt to me like an extremely low standard of cleanliness.
You may know the ritual, even if you don’t do it regularly: It’s the second step at the Passover seder, right after the blessing of the wine and just before you dip the parsley in salt water, when guests line up at the sink or someone passes a bowl of water and a towel around the table.
The rest of the year, the Jewish hand-washing ritual is usually associated with substantial meals (at minimum, a meal that includes bread). During the height of the pandemic, I was rarely sitting down for meals — at least not breakfast or lunch — because most of my daylight hours were in Zoom-land and most of what I was consuming was microwaved leftovers. This left me feeling disconnected on multiple levels. Me and millions of other people.
I needed to find ways to reconnect. I started taking more meetings on the phone and I decided that I would try to slow down and eat lunch with a little more mindfulness — even if I was just making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And that is when I reluctantly rediscovered ritual handwashing.
At first, I stood at our kitchen sink and tried to reconnect to the simplicity of the act — just slowing down and breathing as I poured water over my hands from a vessel. I knew that the ancient origins of ritual washing take us back to the practice of one kohen (priest) washing the feet and hands of another kohen before engaging in the work of the sacrifices. I started to think of this act as some form of sacred self-care where my left hand was caring for my right and vice versa. I started to make a habit of washing my hands with a vessel and I started to read more about the ritual.
One element of the washing is called “shifshuf yadayim,” which literally means “rubbing the hands,” and is initially described in the Tosefta (Yadaim 1:2), a 2nd-century CE compilation of Torah law. In an 18th-century text, Pri Megadim, there is a teaching that the rubbing is done so that the water touches every part of skin on the back and front of the hands and in the nooks between the fingers. This led me to become more mindful of the ways that rubbing brings your consciousness to the contours of your hands and to the act of caring for your hands. Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812) taught that when the rubbing is done with intention, it helps you to obtain a “tahara yeteira” — an extra level of purity.
I slowed down even more. I started using the minimal amount of water, turning my hand gently as I poured the water, and focusing on the sensation of the water covering the entire surface of the hands. In doing so I felt more connected to water’s miraculous power to cleanse and to refresh. And as I did this again and again, it became more than just a conscious moment of self-care and connection to water — it was as if I were awakening the deadened nerves in my hands and healing from the psychic wounds of those many months of lockdown and general fear of others. Through this gentle cleaning and attention to my hands I was experiencing a rebirth and a return — two themes that take us to the present moment.
In the Brenner home, we are frantically zipping about preparing to host the extended clan for Passover, a massive Tetris game of rearranging furniture, shlepping folding tables from the basement and cramming just enough chairs for three generations to sit together in a charming old house in New Jersey that sadly lacks “flow.”
Having guests find their way out of this maze and parade through the kitchen to wash is not feasible. Still, I want to share my newfound love for handwashing, so I will be passing out small cups with 3.2 ounces of water (the minimum amount required) so that everyone can fully engage with that often overlooked second ritual of the seder, known as urchatz. I even went so far as to work with an artist, Helene Brenenson, to design a guide to handwashing that includes a series of wellbeing-centered teachings to accompany the four essential steps of the ritual: lifting the vessel, pouring the water, rubbing the hands together and lifting the hands.
As I worked on this guide, I had a minor epiphany: Giving this water ritual, urchatz, a prominent spot at the seder was a brilliant rabbinic move. The Passover story begins with a drought (lack of water) that brought the Israelites to Egypt, ends with the miraculous crossing of a sea (walls of water), and eventually leads us to a land described in Deuteronomy as having “streams of water, of springs and underground water bursting forth from valley and mountain.” Urchatz connects us to the water imagery of the Passover seder and both physically and spiritually prepares our hands to take hold of the parsley (or other vegetable) and taste the “Spring” that symbolizes this time of rebirth.
Now I look back on those months of frantic pandemic handwashing and feel gratitude. My disconnection not only helped me seek out new ways to approach a basic pre-eating ritual, but led me to appreciate something that was always right there in the seder but I had never truly bothered to appreciate. This year the number two ritual in the seder’s order is number one in my heart.
—
The post The life-changing magic of washing your hands (on Passover) appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
Philadelphia Jewish leaders encouraged by counter-response to ‘boycott bike ride’
(JTA) — When the Jewish Federation of Greater Philadelphia first got wind of a planned “boycott bike ride” of six Jewish- and Israeli-owned restaurants scheduled for Sunday, Nov. 8, its CEO wondered if the result would be “a small pebble” or “a big boulder.”
The protest ultimately drew some 300 bikers. But thanks to communal organizing among dozens of Jewish, pro-Israel and interfaith groups, it was met with an estimated 200 counter-protesters — plus hundreds more who turned up, waiting in hours-long lines, to patronize the affected businesses.
“I honestly had a hard time hearing what the boycotters were saying,” Michael Balaban, the federation head, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency the day after the protests. They were drowned out, he said, by counter-demonstrators singing Israeli songs.
The restaurants hardly felt any effects from a boycott, Balaban said — all of them sold out of their inventory. At one shop, the mac-and-cheese kiosk Mac Mart, a visitor offered to buy the open box of baking soda its proprietor kept to eliminate pantry odors.
“What was supposed to be a boycott of Jewish businesses turned into a food festival of Jewish businesses,” Balaban said. “I had several people say, ‘I feel safe walking as a Jew today’.”
A left-wing group called Philly Bike On Your Left had organized the event. Its flyer proclaimed, “No business for Zionists!” with the names of six local Jewish-owned restaurants listed with red “No” signs drawn through them. The planned date fell just before the 88th anniversary of Kristallnacht, the “Night of Broken Glass” targeting Jewish businesses and homes in Nazi-occupied Europe, which protest organizers have said was unintentional.
Some of the targeted business owners, including acclaimed Israeli restaurateur Michael Solomonov, had donated to causes including United Hatzalah, the Israeli first responder organization. Others had simply posted online that they were Zionists. Allan Domb, the owner of Schlesinger’s Deli, told the local CBS affiliate that he believed his business was on the list because he had donated to the local federation after the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attacks in Israel.
In its rhetoric and conflation of Jewish- and Israeli-owned businesses with the state of Israel, the bike boycott seemed like a perfect storm of the biggest Jewish concerns with pro-Palestinian protests. Yet the sheer audacity of the boycott, which Balaban compared to “the proverbial person poking you in the back over and over again,” spurred a broad show of force from Jews and their allies to fight back.
“A real line was crossed here,” he said. “You want to boycott something going on in Israel, we’re not that far from DC or New York. Go to an embassy, go to a consulate. But to think that someone selling tahini milkshakes or macaroni and cheese has a red phone to the prime minister, that’s just silliness.”
Local authorities speaking to the Philadelphia Inquirer said that three people were arrested and two police officers suffered minor injuries.
Local elected officials also spoke out strongly against the ride, including Philadelphia District Attorney Larry Krasner, a favorite of the progressive movement.
“There is widespread perception that this action is antisemitic,” Krasner, whose father was Jewish, said in a video he filmed from his car prior to the event. “That perception is real.” He cited the timing, the targets and the rhetoric around the event as his reasons for making the determination.
Krasner and Lori Shapiro, Pennsylvania’s first lady and wife of Jewish Democratic Gov. Josh Shapiro, joined state lawmakers who attended a “solidarity lunch” with some of the targeted businesses days prior to the boycott. The Philadelphia Jewish Community Relations Council had organized the event.
On social media following the protests, Gov. Shapiro called the boycott “blatant antisemitic targeting of Jewish-owned restaurants on the anniversary of Kristallnacht,” and said local support of the businesses “prove once again that hate has no place in our Commonwealth.” Pennsylvania Sens. John Fetterman, a pro-Israel Democrat, and Dave McCormick, a Republican, had also condemned the ride.
Among the groups that did support the ride were Faculty for Justice in Palestine chapters at Temple University and the University of Pennsylvania; the local Students for Justice in Palestine chapter; a pro-Palestinian group of Temple law students; and Writers Against the War on Gaza, a literary activist group that previously helped upend leadership at the free-speech organization PEN America over Israel-related statements and actions.
The local Democratic Socialists of America chapter, which had initially promoted the event, said in a statement on Sunday that it “did not and does not endorse the bike ride on Sunday, 11/8.” But the Philly DSA’s lengthy statement went on to accuse the event’s critics of “political repression of anti-Zionism” orchestrated by “organized Zionist lobbying groups.”
Ahmed Moor, a Palestinian writer who on Monday announced his intent to challenge Fetterman for the Democratic nomination in 2028, wrote on X on Saturday that he had spoken to Jewish women on both sides of the protest. Without taking a side, Moor concluded, “Sometimes being a leader means turning the temperature down.”
Though some of the bikers who spoke to media identified themselves as Jewish, local Jewish pro-Palestinian groups were absent from the bike ride’s list of co-sponsors. Neither the Philadelphia chapters of Jewish Voice for Peace nor IfNotNow commented on the ride on their official social media pages, and representatives from both groups did not return JTA requests for comment.
The Nexus Project, an antisemitism watchdog that has criticized what it says is Jewish communal overreach in describing some criticism of Israel as antisemitic, also criticized the ride and its organizers.
“When ‘Zionist’ can cover almost any Jew who has ever expressed even a modicum of sympathy or support for Israel, Jewish business owners are facing a test no one else does: disavow Israel or lose your livelihood,” a statement from the group reads, adding that the organizing groups’ rhetoric “has also crossed the line.”
The Prayers for Peace Alliance, an interfaith pro-Palestinian group in Philadelphia that includes Jews, criticized the boycott in its own statement on Saturday.
“To be effective, boycotts must be targeted toward companies with the greatest complicity in injustice,” the group said. The planned ride, they added, “does not align with the priorities of the anti-genocide and anti-occupation movement.” They added, “The decision to target only Jewish-owned businesses threatens to undermine trust within this broad, intersectional movement, which includes many American Jews.”
Early on, Balaban said, the federation briefly wondered if they should avoid giving the protests much oxygen. They changed their minds after last week’s midterm elections, which Democrats dominated and which, in his mind, elevated candidates who “use ‘Zionist’ as a code word.” He did not specify any.
“Seeing individuals who use anti-Israel and anti-Jewish as part of their platform come into the fold, it was time for us to let loose and push back,” he said.
Philly Bike On Your Left is also planning a follow-up bike protest for this coming Sunday, named “Great Ride of Return,” a nod to the Palestinian right of return. The group had promoted the follow-up ride on social media before the first one took place.
Balaban knows more is coming; he says they’ll be ready. “We know that they’ll be out again, and we’ll be out again.”
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Philadelphia Jewish leaders encouraged by counter-response to ‘boycott bike ride’ appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Palestinian-American to challenge John Fetterman for Senate seat in 2028
(JTA) — Ahmed Moor, a Palestinian-American writer who has worked with anti-Zionists, is the first Democrat to challenge Pennsylvania Sen. John Fetterman in the 2028 primary.
Fetterman, who has faced sharp criticism from within the Democratic Party for his staunch support for Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, has yet to announce whether he plans to run in 2028. A defeat or retirement would remove one of the Democratic caucus’s most pro-Israel voices.
Moor, 42, enters the playing field with radically different positions on Israel, and on foreign policy in general, from those Fetterman has promoted. Claiming that the United States “funds wars based on corruption and lies and has turned its back on its own people,” Moor pledged on his campaign website to ensure “this never happens again.”
Moor, born in Gaza, moved as a child to Philadelphia, where he earned his undergraduate degree from the University of Pennsylvania. He completed a master’s degree in public policy from Harvard. He switched from finance to journalism, reporting in Beirut and Egypt for The Guardian and other outlets, and co-editing the book “After Zionism: One State for Israel and Palestine.” He also spent many years in Jordan, where he launched a peer-to-peer lending organization, before moving back to Philadelphia in 2021.
“A few years ago my birthplace was turned to rubble in a genocide funded by our tax dollars,” Moor stated, saying that this has occurred “with the support of politicians on both sides of the aisle who can’t find money for transit or removing asbestos from our schools.”
Moor, who has served on the Philadelphia Democratic City Committee, has never held public office. He says he is determined to address corruption, affordability, foreign policy and constitutional authority, according to The Philadelphia Inquirer, which first reported his candidacy.
Moor told the Inquirer that he was “not really running against Fetterman” but instead “running for the rule of law.” He acknowledged that he would face an “uphill battle” against Fetterman, who took office in January 2023.
Fetterman has irked some fellow Democrats by siding with Republicans on numerous issues, especially on Israel. He has also drawn praise from the pro-Israel community and Israel’s leadership. With Democrats securing a Senate majority of at least 54 seats, including two independents who caucus with the party, Democratic leadership will be less dependent on Fetterman’s vote when the new Congress convenes in January.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Palestinian-American to challenge John Fetterman for Senate seat in 2028 appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Northwestern launches civil rights investigation into club that banned pro-Israel group from its food festival
Northwestern University’s Office of Civil Rights is investigating a club that said it canceled its annual “Cultural Food Fest” after students objected to its initial inclusion of a pro-Israel student group.
Spoon University Northwestern, a student-run food magazine, wrote in an email to students that it was calling off its Nov. 6 food festival because of concerns about the participation of Wildcats for Israel, a club housed within Hillel that describes itself as focused on Israeli culture and society.
“There’s been a lot of disappointment expressed in and around Hillel today,” Michael Simon, executive director of Northwestern Hillel, told the Forward on Friday. “What should be an opportunity for connecting across differences and having really positive engagement got turned into a sort of political catfight.”
Students involved with Wildcats for Israel were initially “really excited” to participate in the fest, Simon said.
But amid student backlash, Spoon reversed course and disinvited Wildcats for Israel, Simon said. In a statement posted to Instagram, Spoon cited “the ongoing genocide in Gaza” to explain the group’s removal.
Yet even that exclusion was not enough for some student organizations. Northwestern’s Asian Pacific American Coalition; Alianza, the Latinx student alliance; and the Middle Eastern North African Student Association, issued a joint statement saying that they were withdrawing from the fest because of the original inclusion of Wildcats for Israel.
“A ‘culture’ born from the active land theft and genocide of Palestinians should not be recognized,” the student groups wrote on Instagram.
Spoon then cancelled the event altogether.
Now, Spoon’s status as an officially registered student organization has been frozen while the investigation into allegations of discrimination is being conducted, a Northwestern spokesperson wrote in an email to the Forward.
The investigation comes as Northwestern faces additional obligations to address and report allegations of antisemitism as part of its $75 million settlement with the Trump administration in November 2025. As part of the agreement, the university pledged that its Office of Civil Rights would publish annual reports with data about complaints of antisemitism, including investigative and disciplinary actions taken.
Spoon did not respond to the Forward’s request for comment.
In its email to students, Spoon said Wildcats for Israel was removed because of its status as “a political action group, not a cultural organization.”
Simon pushed back on that characterization of the club. “They’re not engaged in political advocacy or political work, certainly not in their current iteration,” Simon said. “They’re really focused on doing cultural and educational programming, connecting with Israel and with the Israeli people.”
The idea that Wildcats for Israel is considered political, while other student organizations opposing Israel are not, “appears to be a real double standard,” Simon said.
Still, Simon said the cancellation did not prevent Wildcats for Israel from having its own cultural food event — inviting students to the Hillel building on Friday to talk about what had happened over slushies in two flavors popular in Israel, limonana and iced cafe.
“They’re really turning to a place of being in community and supporting one another,” Simon said.
The post Northwestern launches civil rights investigation into club that banned pro-Israel group from its food festival appeared first on The Forward.
