62 | SEPTEMBER 26 • 2019 

Jews in the D

T

he prompt for a 
high school writing 
assignment: “As long 
as we have ignorance, we will 
continue to have superstition.” 
The student — my daughter 
— read that prompt aslant: “As 
long as we do not bother to 
understand another culture, we 
can dismiss its practices as 
mere superstition.” 
Ignorant people call 
what other people do 
“superstition,” but 
everyone’
s practices 
make sense in context.
For example, 
some Jews insist on 
wearing shoes, even 
indoors. Perhaps 
that amounts to 
a meaningless 
superstition, 
but 
traditional 
practice 
has Jews, 
during the week of 
mourning, not wearing 
shoes. Going shoeless on 
other occasions would 
take away the significance 
of the mourner’
s gesture; 
worse, going shoeless 
might give the impression 
that one looks forward to 
the death of a relative. In 
context, the practice has 
its rationale.
But maybe some 
superstitious practices have 
no rationale. Back in 2011, 
Tigers’
 Manager Jim Leyland 
reputedly would not change or 
wash his boxer shorts as long 
as the Tigers’
 winning streak 
continued. Similarly, according 
to bleacherreport.com, highly 
superstitious baseball great 
Wade Boggs would write the 
Hebrew word Chai, meaning 
“life,” on his bat before each 

plate appearance. 
There are several Jewish 
superstitions which survive in 
active practice. 
Jews have customary ways 
of avoiding the evil eye, a 
concern that we share with 
about every other group. The 
universal concern centers on 
acts that call attention to good 
fortune and might invite envy. 
Attracting the envy of our 
neighbors could always work 
out poorly for us, but perhaps 
some of those envious looks 
could themselves cause damage. 
The Hebrew ayin harah, 
ambiguously means either 
emotional “envy” or magical, “a 
look that can injure.” Leonard 
Moss, a sociology professor at 
Wayne State University, wrote 
about the evil eye in Italian 
folklore. The Italian malocchio, 
translates exactly as ayin harah. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Whether done literally or 
figuratively (by saying “pooh, 
pooh, pooh”), spitting three 
times (a mystical number) is a 
classic response to something 
exceptionally evil or good. For 
centuries, Jews have performed 
this ritual in response to 
seeing, hearing or learning 
of something terrible and as 
a prophylactic measure to 
prevent such a tragedy from 
happening or recurring.
Ironically, it is traditional 
to perform the same action 
in response to something 
wonderful — such as good 
news or the birth of a beautiful 
and healthy child — to ward 
off the Evil Eye. Spitting was 
long considered a potent 
protector against magic 
and demons. Ancient and 
medieval physicians, including 
Maimonides, described the 
positive values of saliva and 
spittle.

Besides avoiding ostentatious 
shows of good fortune, folklore 
of many nations maintains that 
one can avoid the evil eye with 
symbols: a stylized hand called 
a “hamsa” or a red thread tied 
to a baby’
s crib. 
Once I heard a story of a 
superstition from the heroine 
of the story. About 70 years 
ago, a secular Jewish doctor 
had a patient, the wife of a 
scholarly rabbi. The doctor 
often teased his patient for 
her adherence to Jewish law 
even in modern America. 
When the doctor delivered the 
woman’
s first child, though, 
the doctor said, “That baby is 
too beautiful. Please tie a red 
thread on his crib.” I do not 
remember whether the mother 
gave in and used the red 
thread; I do remember that she 
laughed as she told the story.
The baby grew up to 
become, like his father, a 
respected scholar of Jewish 
studies. 
Former Detroiter Susann 
Codish recalls that when she 
was a young girl in Sweden, 
“We weren’
t allowed to sew an 
item of clothing while wearing 
it (e.g. last-minute hem-fixing 
or button attachment) unless 
we were also chewing on a 
bit of string. The last part 
was weird to me, and I found 
myself wondering if a piece of 
chewing gum could substitute. 
The very young halachic mind 
at work.” 
Carol Yadlovker had the 
same experience in Queens, 
N.Y. “As a child I chewed on 
many a piece of thread as my 
mother stitched the garment I 
was wearing.” 
Perhaps repairing a garment 
on a live person resembles to 
a disturbing extent the work 

Jews in th

he prompt 
high school
assignment:

as we have ignoranc
continue to have su
The student — my
— read that prompt
long as we do not bo
understand another

can dismiss its prac

mere superstition

Ignorant peop
what other peo
“superstition,”
everyone’
s pra

make sense in

For examp

some Jews in
wearing shoe
indoors. Per
that amoun

a meanin

supersti
but 
traditio
practice

has Jews, 

during the we

mourning, not wear
shoes. Going shoeles
other occasions woul
take away the signific
of the mourner’
s gest

worse, going shoeless
might give the impre
that one looks forwar
the death of a relative
context, the practice h

its rationale.
But maybe some 

superstitious practices have 
no rationale. Back in 2011

Are You Superstitious?

Not all customs can be explained. 

LOUIS FINKELMAN CONTRIBUTING WRITER

continued on page 64

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