“Bialystok Mezuzah”, created by MI POLIN: a Polish company which casts impressions of former mezuzahs stripped from Jewish homes during the Holocaust in bronze. Courtesy of The Jewish Museum via Medium.

Reading Grant Bollmer’s chapter of Materialist Media Theory, “Inscriptions and Techniques” – which has to do with the cultural practice of inscription and its part in determining reality – I immediately saw connections to my own Jewish culture. Specifically, I started thinking about the ways in which cultural material objects (such as Judaica) store, record, and determine a shared historical, documental, and technique-based experience of “habitus” for people raised within Jewish culture. Physical objects are not always thought of as inscriptions. Therefore, I will begin by addressing the performance of inscription through religious writing, then move on to the significance of Judaica objects, before finally identifying a piece of Judaica which bridges inscription and object, as well as religion and culture. 

Writings

The oldest Abrahamic religion, Jewish liturgical canon and everything considered as “text” within the tradition is seemingly endless. Far beyond just the Torah and the Talmud, Jewish scholars and the ultra-religious study countless writings and commentary which present a litany of different interpretations of text. Notably, the practice of scholarly and iterative work is considered essential even within Judaism’s set of canonical texts; “Ketuvim”, a section of Tanakh, refers to books, scrolls, songs, wisdom, and literature that have been amended to the so-called “Hebrew Bible” over time. 

Similarly, sub-groups (sometimes referred to as movements or sects) within Judaism have also undergone changes, identifying individuals within “orthodox”, “hasidic”, “conservative”, “reform”, “kabbalistic”, “humanist”, and even “atheist” categories, made up of those who agree upon their disagreements with earlier movements. This perpetual schisming of identity within the religion relates to what Grant Bollmer describes as the “control of one’s image and self […] reasserted through legal regulation of documents, inscriptions, and artworks that, in combination with the power of the medium to record, either permit or prohibit something from existing in the future, which can allow (or refuse) specific individuals and relations to materialize.” (55) As a concrete example of reasserting identity through inscription, look no farther than the historical “Platforms” developed by rabbis in US cities throughout the 20th century, which articulated and updated the guiding principles of Reform Judaism over time. 

Objects

What I find so interesting is that despite all of the disagreement (and morphing of central values and interpretations of canonical text within each movement), the media being used to record the cultural side of Jewish tradition are largely the same across movements, ascribing a sense of shared history and tradition among us. Judaica, for those who may not know, are items such as candlesticks, cups, Torah dressing, art, jewelry, religious apparel, and historical artifacts “used and cherished in the context of ritual practice” (Benesh). 

I can’t possibly describe the meaning and use of each physical item within Judaism that has shaped my upbringing and experience of culture. Bollmer describes the production of a habitus by inscriptions existing “at the level of the body[,] through practices we internalize and perpetuate– techniques that we practice” (57). He continues by arguing that repeated performance induces a biological form of inscription where “we are ‘writing’ into our own bodies ways of experiencing and acting that perpetuate cultural difference, which are foundational for how we understand both who we are as individuals and our relations with others.” (57-8). The practice of attending synagogue, the speaking and chanting of Hebrew words in unison; the donning of a tallit for a family friend’s Bat Mitzvah; the home rituals of Shabbat candles and baking my own challah; arranging a seder plate in spring; the smell of spices in a Havdalah box as it is passed around a circle of neighbours on Saturday at dusk– these are the kinds of ritual and embodied experiences that for me are not mere structures of worship, but ways of life.

For many, a sense of culture is intimately linked with a sense of difference. Following the French scholar Jacques Derrida, Bollmer argues that groups ‘write’ or ‘inscribe’ matter from within, producing ‘cuts’ that “organize or make sense of the world, which, in turn, locate, distribute, and police the location of specific bodies based on how they ‘matter’” (64). Unfortunately, much of Jewish history is a history of persecution– from historical subjugation under the Romans, to The Crusades and exile from Spain, to continuous pogroms across Europe, to the failed extermination attempt of the Holocaust. The few remaining Holocaust survivors of today tell their children and grandchildren of yellow stars which they were forced to affix to their clothing in the years leading up to the concentration camps. The inscription “Jude” was more than a sign of shame; the stars were an example of such a ‘cut’ that identified Jews from the rest of European society and primed their status as ‘outsiders’ or ‘others’ in relation to their neighbours. 

By contrast, Judaica objects are typically sites for positive identification at the level of Jewish identity. Many of these objects are either passed down in families, or are recovered after surviving anti-semetic events and being separated from their original owners (Benesh). The craftsmanship evident in their making comes from “hiddur mitzvah […] — the principle of beautifying obligations and rituals by appealing to the senses: sight, sound, texture and fragrance” (Benesh). Essentially, many of the objects are not just historical– and not just useful in ritual– but also beautiful sources of pride found in one’s home.

The Mezuzah

This brings me to a point where I can introduce the mezuzah: both an object which evokes identification, and an inscription which generates concepts and performs symbolic work. The mezuzah takes the physical form of a cylindrical encasement (typically decorated), which is affixed to doorframes and contains a small roll of parchment inside, inscribed with significant passages from Deuteronomy. Specifically, the text found inside mezuzahs contains the Sh’ma, considered the most important prayer in the Jewish religion. Highly observant Jews say this prayer three times daily, shading their eyes with a hand as they do so. The lines that follow the Sh’ma’s main proclamation of “one God” command:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. Take to heart these instructions with which I charge you this day. Impress them upon your children. Recite them when you stay at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you get up. Bind them as a sign on your hand and let them serve as a symbol on your forehead, inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” (Deuteronomy 6:5-9)

Found in this translation of the original Hebrew, we can see a direct correlation between practices of the habitus and inscription of a religious identity. Various parts of the body such as the heart, the hand, and the forehead are all named as sites for marking. The physicality of the language, using “charge”, “impress”, “recite”, “bind” and, importantly, “inscribe” are significant, because they instruct a person to outwardly show and practice their alignment with the religion in their everyday actions. Perhaps that is why the object of the mezuzah is still so pervasively displayed before Jewish homes, despite the fact that many Jews today do not engage in regular prayer or observance, and many are altogether atheist or agnostic (Issit and Main). 

In Evocative Objects, Sherry Turkle argued that objects can be sites for our thinking. I would like to use this frame of reference to propose new meanings and uses for mezuzahs in contemporary Jewish culture. The idea of a conceptual mezuzah would suggest that one is hung before a family’s home not because God instructed them to do so, but because its presence offers a material site to “think through” something. Perhaps when we look at, touch, or even kiss the mezuzah when leaving the house, it can remind us of our own ethical standards, compelling us to try and behave accordingly in the world. Maybe the mystery of the mezuzah piques the curiosity of children, who ask their parents why it’s important to them to display a sign of Jewish identity on the cusp of/ barrier to their home. As Bollmer paraphrases from another scholar, Ferraris, “The distinction of ‘inside’ and ‘outside’ can only happen from the inside– which means that ‘outside’ is always a relation produced by assuming the truth of the ‘inside’” (70).

In recent years, there have been efforts within the Jewish community to turn the sign of the mezuzah from a social object that creates a  ‘cut’ between ‘us’ and ‘them’, to one that welcomes and celebrates. For example, the Trans Pride Mezuzah “represents and embodies an intersection between the trans/nonbinary community and the renewal of Jewish tradition”, where trans and gender diverse people are not merely tolerated in a religious home or dwelling place, but actually highlighted and included (Ben-Lulu). Congregation Beit Simchat Torah, a synagogue in New York City which has welcomed the LGBTQ+ community since the 1970s, commissioned mezuzahs for their building created by a Polish company which makes “original casts of real mezuzahs that were on the houses of Jews who lived in Poland, before they perished in the Holocaust” out of bronze (Ben-Lulu). These contemporary Judaica are a highly creative documentation of history, and yet also a symbol of renewed values and understandings about Jewish belief– especially in the context of the synagogue whose entryway they mark.

Conclusion

Analyzing inscription in the context of religion is incomplete without examining materiality. I have just argued how repeated technique and interactions with physical objects create identification with a religious culture within one’s habitus. I’m certain that those with lived experience within other religions can relate to this claim, however I was only able to properly represent these ideas within the context of what I am familiar with. Although my own personal sense of faith is uncertain, and although I hold certain critical opinions about organized religion, my own identity as a Jewish individual is something I consider very important in my life. It is difficult to explain how my life experience, this “habitus”, is inscribed so beautifully and painfully in who I am. Writing this blog has actually allowed me to convey certain ideas which I have never had the words to articulate before. As Bollmer says, things are practiced first before they are ever described. I agree with Professor Schandorf that Materialist Media Theory provides a lot of good grounding for conversations that involve and transcend media studies, and I hope to be able to use it more in the future.

Blog post by Naomi Brown

Works Cited

Benesh, Mika. “Judaica.” Federation CJA, www.federationcja.org/fr/judaica/. 

Ben-Lulu, Elazar. Doorposts of Inclusion: Trans Pride Mezuzah as a Marker of Jewish-Queer Space, Taylor & Francis Online, 8 May 2025, www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/17432200.2025.2484500#abstract.  

Bollmer, Grant. “Inscriptions and Techniques.” Materialist Media Theory: An Introduction. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019. 51–78. Bloomsbury Collections. http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9781501337086.0005.

Central Conference of American Rabbis. “Platforms.” Central Conference of American Rabbis, 23 Jan. 2018, www.ccarnet.org/rabbinic-voice/platforms/.  

Issitt, Micah , and Carlyn Main. “Judaism.” Hidden Religion: The Greatest Mysteries and Symbols of the World’s Religious Beliefs. Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, 2014. 3–32. Bloomsbury Collections. http://dx.doi.org/10.5040/9798400663277.0006. 

My Jewish Learning. “The Shema.” My Jewish Learning, 16 Jan. 2024, www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-shema/.