Tonight with a pint of Ben & Jerry's I contemplate Rosh Hashanah and all the Jews who were there at services today.
Since I converted in 2001, my Judaica reading has slowed somewhat (I think I'd read a hundred books during my year of study with the Rabbis - no, probably 25 - 30 though, which is pretty good for a mother of 3.) I had entirely forgotten about the rituals that accompany this first day of the Jewish New Year. Apples and honey, swinging chickens to imbue them with our sins and then ritually "sacrificing" them (by a kosher butcher, of course), then giving them to the poor.
When I read this article the other day, I thought I would write something sweet about my hens and our adventures with racoons this summer.
But tonight, when I went back to the site, I laughed for so long about the little side link for a "virtual chicken" that I got tickled about the whole absurdity of chickens and the internet! I suppose it was made more hysterical by the thought of my going to Tom and saying, "Honey, I have this ritual we have to do for a good new year. Help me catch a chicken."
My husband is so patient.
So what does he bring home tonight? Fiddler on the Roof. While I'm typing this he's going through the DVD (a new small obsession of his) and the musicals are meandering through our small living room.
[pause to dash out in the rain to roll up car windows and collect G's artwork and a box of fragiles on the porch - cold wet on my back]
We have had a heck of a time with predators this summer. I'm contemplating collecting the fowl - only 5 left, four hens and a rooster - and giving them away. I feel guilty about not being able to protect them from wiley coyote, er Rocky racoon. And the last two we lost had to be put down because hideous beak wounds that wouldn't heal.
So I'm very familiar with holding chickens, and sometimes swinging them. It's an odd sensation to carry one by the feet, head hanging down, but it does subdue them (blood all runs to their small heads).
I took three for a program to two schools last year, during an egg incubation project. I held the rooster and my kids held a hen each as I talked about their habits and such. The 4th grade was thrilled, but the preschoolers varied between amazed and that rather nonplussed "Ok so it's a chicken" reaction. They did all pet my pets, which was sweet. I think I counted 5 classes = about 60 kids - maybe 100 for the day.
To say I got close to my chickens is both literal and figurative.
I can't imagine sacrificing one for my sins though. For one thing, I don't think a hen is big enough. Maybe a deer or something. Some years, in my youth, might have taken a rhino or something.
But I do enjoy reading the responses from other readers to articles like the one on Beliefnet. One person was indignant that the poor would get the "sin-filled" chicken. Who says sins are transferable by ingestion? Are poor people inherently more sinful so they wouldn't notice? Can you cook the sin out of a chicken??
I dunno, but I bet the Rabbis discussed this at length somewhere in the Talmud.
Anyway, I love these quirky Jewish traditions. And I noticed today that among the thousands at our High Holy Day service, they must all have these memories of growing up going to Rosh Hashana.
I'm so damn glowing about it all, I must be easy to spot as a convert. Not everyone talks during services, having conversations, like the Orthodox do - Reform Jews are much more uptight about making overt noise. But there was an easy, bored familiarity in the crowd. They knew we were looking at over 2 hours of prayers and songs and readings, and yet the time just flew by for me.
I love reading Hebrew (bad as I am at it) and singing and kissing the Torah when they bring it around. The teenagers sitting in front of me, however, were much more interested in each other and the subtle body language that they use to avoid talking directly about things like sex and desire.
I got irritated with them, momentarily, and then remembered I did the same thing in church many moons ago (highschool). Then I found Jesus and paid more attention to him than boys for a while.
Now I'm on to chickens and Jews, marriage and children, knitting and spinning and SQL databases. And maybe blogs
So check out the story, and if you need a chicken, call me.
Posted by Vicki at September 27, 2003 10:08 PM