Since I had kids my cycle is irregular, which wouldn't be a big deal except that I'm an Orthodox Jew and I can't even pass the salt to my husband — let alone touch, kiss, or have sex with him — for 12 days after my period starts.We never know when we'll have to sleep in separate beds or place a vase with a single rose between us on the dinner table as evidence of our separation. Religion is hard, which is why so many people don't practice it. I emerge, and the mikvah attendant says, "Kosher."I dunk a second time, a third time. On the one hand they live like in the middle ages in their private family and community life.You might even confuse a Hasidic Orthodox Jew with an Amish person.I drive into the garage and, before I kill the engine, the door swings open.He is backlit by our house, our life, and he seems larger than ever, dressed in the shirt he knows I love. We've been married for five years, but my heart is pounding: I am so ready to be home.
The woman described herself as both "shocked and offended." But since she was a good liberal who, in addition to opposing "sex discrimination of all sorts," also "supports freedom of religious expression," she was in a quandary.
When guests arrive at the ceremony, male guests go into a room with the bridegroom while the female guests go into a room where the bride is sitting on a throne-type chair.
This traditional "public beckoning" is common and actually may be "private," with just family and wedding party in attendance.
A recent "Ethicist" column in The New York Times Magazine reveals not only the superficiality of what passes for ethical thinking today, but also the limits of multiculturalism as applied to Orthodox Jews.
A woman wrote to the "Ethicist" with the following question.