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What’s your JQ: On a wig and a prayer

By Rivy Poupko Kletenik, JTNews Correspondent

Dear Rivy,

My fiancé and I are trying to find a date to get married this summer. It seems that no matter which date we select, it is one of those blackout dates when Jews can’t get married! What’s with all the mourning that we do in summer? Isn’t summer supposed to be for fun?

While I do not disagree that summer is a time for fun. I will admit that the Jewish calendar does impose some challenges to the fun possibilities of summer. It is no accident that there is a Yiddish saying that highlights this decidedly “unfun” nature of the Jewish summer. In answer to what the rhythm of the Jewish summer is, the saying playfully tells us:

“Ziben vochen tzeilt men,

Drie vochen klocked men,

Feer vochen blozt men.”

    “Seven weeks we count,

    three weeks we cry,

    and four weeks we blow.”

Each line refers to a different period during the spring or summer season, each one reflecting a specific observance, mood and custom. Let’s take them one at a time.

The first segment refers to the period that ended this week. It is the phase of time that spans the weeks between the second day of Passover and the holiday of Shavuot. The commandment to count these days is found in the Leviticus, Chap. 23, and is referred to as the counting of the omer, the name of the sacrifice offered on the second day of Passover. One reason offered for the observance of this counting ritual is the notion that we advance spiritually from the day of the Exodus until the day of the receiving of the Torah. We count anxiously until that great moment of revelation at Sinai.

Still nothing of a mournful nature here, but wait, that comes later in history.

The Talmud in Yevamot 62b relates that 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva died between this very segment of time between Passover and Shavuot. We therefore have a practice to refrain from conducting public celebrations during this period of time; hence, no weddings during this period, though that also depends upon your own personal custom.

There are some variations and exceptions, including L’ag B’Omer, which is a super-fun joyous day with weddings and celebrations galore.

The second period of time spans the three weeks from the Fast of Tammuz until Tisha B’Av when, “we cry.” The Fast of Tammuz commemorates the breach in the Temple wall, along with other national tragedies that took place on that very same date. Tisha B’Av marks the destruction of the Temple, seen by Jewish tradition as one of the greatest tragedies to befall our people.

The three weeks between these two fast days are days of mourning for Ashkenazic Jews with no weddings or public celebrations. Sephardic Jews begin their mourning the week of Tisha B’Av. The mourning intensifies as the month of Av begins with some restrictions on intake of meat and wine during these “nine days” from Rosh Chodesh until the fast itself on the ninth of Av itself, except for Shabbat when wine and meat are permitted.

Finally, the third phase of time, “the four weeks that we blow,” refers to when we dialy blow the shofar during the month of Elul. We do this in advance of the new year. During these four weeks one may marry, however it is a time of solemnity and introspection as we approach the High Holiday season. It is a month of time devoted to teshuvah — repentance.

Some might take a look at the months ahead with dread but I strongly believe in the nobility and transcendent quality of the Jewish calendar. It presents us with ups and downs, moments of sorrow and times to rejoice, a way to express the entire spectrum of human emotions. Most importantly, however, it is a cycle of life that is compelling and meaningful, rich and varied.

Regarding your wedding date, consider any of the Sundays in June through July 4th they certainly look clear, as well as any date from July 28 and on, with special attention to August 2. That is the 15th of Av, the holy day on the Jewish calendar that is auspiciously connected with romance and marriage. The Mishnah identifies this date with the practice of young women dressed in white and going into the fields to find their mates. Good luck and mazel tov!

• • •

Dear Rivy,

What is your take on the Indian wig crisis?

Well, my friend, I am not sure that I would call this a crisis. Unfortunately, when we watch the news these days, we are aware of some real crises out there, but here’s what I know.

On Friday morning, May 14, I received a frantic phone call from my sister in Israel. She reported that women have stopped wearing their traditional wigs and instead were donning other alternative headgear. As you know, many Orthodox women cover their hair for reasons of modesty. They do this by wearing wigs, scarves or hats. This scandal of which my sister spoke was the discovery that the human hair used to make some of these wigs, was contributed by Hindu women in their temples as part of their religious practice, making it inappropriate for Jewish women. As my sister reported this news, I could not have imagined that this was anything other than a tempest in a teapot. Little did I know that I would open that morning’s New York Times and find the story right there on the front page.

This is not news. I was on to this years ago in graduate school, after watching a film in my Ritual Studies class about pilgrimage festivals in India. I saw the women offer their hair and wondered about what happened to their offerings once that hair hit Los Angeles wig-making factories. Here’s the bottom line: until we know for sure that the wigs were made from Indian hair, it is not necessary to give them up. If they are indeed made from this hair, we need to better understand the nature of the Temple offerings. I am assured by rabbinic authorities that this issue is being further investigated.