ack Kemp

I'm reading a funny and interesting book called "The 188th Crybaby Brigade: A Skinny Jewish Kid from Chicago Fights Hezobllah."

In it, the author Joel Chasnoff takes a few days off from his Tank Corps duty in Lebanon and comes to Tel Aviv to arrange his wedding to his girlfriend Dorit, an Israeli. But first he must go to an Orthodox rabbi to prove he is truly Jewish. After showing the rabbi documentation that his mother converted to Orthodox Judaism, the rabbi makes fax inquiries in Texas to verify the rabbi doing the conversion was Orthodox. So far, so good. But the rabbi that Joel Chasnoff's mother studied Judaism with before her conversion was a conservative Jewish rabbi - not orthodox. The Tel Aviv rabbi tells him he is not a Jew. This lead to his cancelling the wedding hall rental and later going to New York to go through a full Orthodox studies course and Orthodox conversion. Later he marries Dorit in Israel.

But getting back to initial meeting with the Orthodox rabbi in Tel Aviv, Joel has brought along two religious friends as witnesses and also Dorit. Dorit gets angry at hearing that her fiance isn't considered Jewish and says "A young man risks his for the Jewish state, and you have the chutzpah to say there's no connection?"

"It's not churzpah, it's religious law."

"Let me ask you something, Rabbi," Dorit says, and glares at him. "Did your sons serve in the army?"

"Dorit, don't," I mutter (Joel talking).

"Why not?" shrieks Dorit. "He thinks he's king of the Jews, I'm allowed to ask!" She turns to the rabbi. "Nu?" (Yiddish for 'what?' or 'what gives?')

Rabbi: "My sons went to yeshiva," he says.

"Oh, yeshiva!" Dorit howls. "So when the Katyushas fall, you sons recite Psalms?"

The room goes quiet. Then, in a voice just above a whisper, the rabbi says, "Look. I'm not saying he doesn't live a Jewish life. I'm saying that according to Jewish law, this young man is not a Jew"

Joel: I look down at the floor. I feel sick.

END OF BOOK QUOTE

I have my own real life Joel Chasnoff-type story.

Sunday morning I was sitting at my computer and rubbed my right eye, scratching it with part of an untrimmed nail on my left finger. My eye immediately closed and I couldn't see out of it. I grabbed my clothes and walked to outside to a cab stand where I told the driver to take me to the emergency room of a local hospital. After about a half hour, the eye opened by itself and the doctor looked at it, testing for scratches with a UV light - all was fine. But the Joel Chasnoff-type story occured when a staff member, a black woman, took my personal information as I waited for the doctor and we had the following exchange...

Staff member: "What is your race?" (as if she couldn't figure out by looking at me but I guess I could have been a light skinned Hispanic or Arab).

Me: "I'm white and Jewish."

Staff member: "What is your religion?" (a question asked to determine which clergy - or funeral home - to contact in case someone dies or is near death)

Me, angrily: "I just told you I'm Jewish. What? Are you going to ask me how many times a year I go to synagogue?"

Staff Member, defensively: I'm just doing my job. If you don't want to answer, you can say you refuse to answer this (religion) question."

Me: "I refuse to answer" (I figured that was quicker and easier than going into a more complicated sociological and theological discussion with a staff member who barely understood the questions she was ordered to ask me. After the staffer left, I said to the couple from India sitting next to me that I guess she wanted to know if I had converted to Christianity or Buddhism. I was more concerned about seeing a doctor and assessing the damage to my eye than figuring out which cemetery they would ship my body to if their treatments failed)

Posted by: Timothy Birdnow at 08:00 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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