Maybe it's because yesterday was Martin Luther King Day, or maybe it's in response to acknowledge tikkun olam, Judaism's continuing imperative to seek social justice in the world.
Either way seems a good reason to post this.
The Jewish Background of Strange Fruit
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Am I being *that* kind of convert?
Yesterday an acquaintance posted how she had found a bit of Jewish ancestry in her family history and changed her FB name to reflect that. I hadn’t even known she was looking and sent her a quick Mazel Tov reply and a small note to acknowledge her joy and mention my own conversion process. Her response was a measured (if not awkward) Er, um, thanks. I imagine her thinking, okay, we haven’t spoken in months, trade a couple of Facebook posts every now and then, and you felt the need to share this with me?
Of course, I’m reading a tone that I can’t possibly know via the Internet and am totally projecting my own insecurities as a convert onto her eight word reply - just as I was totally projecting my feelings onto her original announcement. This has given me reason to pause and wonder, uh-oh. Shit. Am I being ‘that’ kind of convert? You know, the one who just can’t stop talking about her process, who finds joy in the more commonly shared aspects of her new experience, who wakes up with ‘Miriam’s Song’ in her head, who wants to absorb so much she might as well write Sponge under "Occupation" on her tax return, go from Zero to Psalm 150 in 3.5 seconds. Not fanatical or even obsessive, but rather a state-of-being just shy of ‘Ecstatic’.
I think about the amount of attention I give my Judaism. A few minutes devoted to prayer in the morning, blessings for the new day, maybe some more to my self-driven Hebrew lessons (that is, if I’m not feeling particularly intimidated by Bet, Pei versus Fei and all the sofit forms).During the day I try to incorporate A Jewish way of thinking informed by my evolving awareness of Jewish values. The latest ishes of Tablet Magazine, Jewish Journal and New Voices get dropped off in my email. If I have the time I’ll give them scan and post the more relevant pieces. In the afternoon I say the Amidah (again, if I remember). I try to always give blessings at meals but yeah, often I don’t realize until halfway through the salad.
On Sundays I realize the majority of my neighbors are going to their house of worship; for them the week won’t begin until tomorrow. Shavua Tov! Sometime around Wednesday I’m thinking about Shabbat on Friday, Torah Study on Saturday morning.
Admittedly it’s more than this. I feel like my Jewish awareness is slowly rising like the new dawn over the horizon, its light shining upon things I would never have contemplated so deeply before. Like Israel and the Middle East or looking at the world through the lens of tzedakah and tikkun olam. Like contemplating the word ‘chosen’ from a dozen different perspectives. Like feeling my heart weep when I visited the New England Holocaust Memorial and anger over how the country of my birth spurned European Jewish refugees, sending them back to their likely deaths, during World War 2. Like how uneasy and annoyed I feel when someone will describe a blizzard as a ‘snow-ocaust’.
All of which leads me to wonder if my simchat is too much simchat, and if so, by whose standards am I making that judgment? By my FB acquaintances? By my real-life friends, some who seem to look a tad uncomfortable when I remind them I can’t go to their Friday night protest or party? By my Catholic family’s? Or am I simply measuring this by the yardstick of my own insecurities?
A friend back in New York once gave me these words of advice: something becomes a problem when it adversely affects your life. I sometimes worry if said "something" has become so huge as to have taken over my life, would I even know it? Or would I be oblivious until I see (or imagine I see) the cringing wince in someone else’s face?
I like that I’m excited about my spirituality. It’s been years (if not decades) since I found such joy in relating to the universe. I am attracted to Judaism in its many forms for many reasons. It’s new. It’s bold. It’s encouraging and challenging. It’s adventurous. It’s Life-affirming, spirit-enhancing and soul-supportive. It’s joyful and dance-able. What better an evolution/ revolution in my life?
Will I always feel this way about it? I don’t know - that concern I will let go and Let G-d. Let me cross that bridge when I come to it, and when I do may I face it with grace, serenity, emotional knowledge and love.
And, of course, as a Jew.
Of course, I’m reading a tone that I can’t possibly know via the Internet and am totally projecting my own insecurities as a convert onto her eight word reply - just as I was totally projecting my feelings onto her original announcement. This has given me reason to pause and wonder, uh-oh. Shit. Am I being ‘that’ kind of convert? You know, the one who just can’t stop talking about her process, who finds joy in the more commonly shared aspects of her new experience, who wakes up with ‘Miriam’s Song’ in her head, who wants to absorb so much she might as well write Sponge under "Occupation" on her tax return, go from Zero to Psalm 150 in 3.5 seconds. Not fanatical or even obsessive, but rather a state-of-being just shy of ‘Ecstatic’.
I think about the amount of attention I give my Judaism. A few minutes devoted to prayer in the morning, blessings for the new day, maybe some more to my self-driven Hebrew lessons (that is, if I’m not feeling particularly intimidated by Bet, Pei versus Fei and all the sofit forms).During the day I try to incorporate A Jewish way of thinking informed by my evolving awareness of Jewish values. The latest ishes of Tablet Magazine, Jewish Journal and New Voices get dropped off in my email. If I have the time I’ll give them scan and post the more relevant pieces. In the afternoon I say the Amidah (again, if I remember). I try to always give blessings at meals but yeah, often I don’t realize until halfway through the salad.
On Sundays I realize the majority of my neighbors are going to their house of worship; for them the week won’t begin until tomorrow. Shavua Tov! Sometime around Wednesday I’m thinking about Shabbat on Friday, Torah Study on Saturday morning.
Admittedly it’s more than this. I feel like my Jewish awareness is slowly rising like the new dawn over the horizon, its light shining upon things I would never have contemplated so deeply before. Like Israel and the Middle East or looking at the world through the lens of tzedakah and tikkun olam. Like contemplating the word ‘chosen’ from a dozen different perspectives. Like feeling my heart weep when I visited the New England Holocaust Memorial and anger over how the country of my birth spurned European Jewish refugees, sending them back to their likely deaths, during World War 2. Like how uneasy and annoyed I feel when someone will describe a blizzard as a ‘snow-ocaust’.
All of which leads me to wonder if my simchat is too much simchat, and if so, by whose standards am I making that judgment? By my FB acquaintances? By my real-life friends, some who seem to look a tad uncomfortable when I remind them I can’t go to their Friday night protest or party? By my Catholic family’s? Or am I simply measuring this by the yardstick of my own insecurities?
A friend back in New York once gave me these words of advice: something becomes a problem when it adversely affects your life. I sometimes worry if said "something" has become so huge as to have taken over my life, would I even know it? Or would I be oblivious until I see (or imagine I see) the cringing wince in someone else’s face?
I like that I’m excited about my spirituality. It’s been years (if not decades) since I found such joy in relating to the universe. I am attracted to Judaism in its many forms for many reasons. It’s new. It’s bold. It’s encouraging and challenging. It’s adventurous. It’s Life-affirming, spirit-enhancing and soul-supportive. It’s joyful and dance-able. What better an evolution/ revolution in my life?
Will I always feel this way about it? I don’t know - that concern I will let go and Let G-d. Let me cross that bridge when I come to it, and when I do may I face it with grace, serenity, emotional knowledge and love.
And, of course, as a Jew.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Debbie Friedman Performs 'Mishebayrach' Live at LimmudLA'08
I'm just learning of her impact inside Reform synagogues. I can say her gifts to Reform Judaism was one of the reasons I felt so at peace in the congregation where I am now.
Keeping her in prayers, such as this one...
God as G-d a.k.a. HaShem who used to be known by El Shaddai = ?
So my last "Introduction to Judaism" class took on one of the big Judaic topics (or at least big for me). Namely, God. To say the subject was a tad intimidating would have been a gross understatement. All my previous spiritual backgrounds have framed their deities in very visible and (pun intended) concrete forms. Judaism will have none of that, thank you for very much.
For instance, Paganism has long been rift with anthropomorphic renderings of the (at the time) unknown. Ancient cultures dealt with the natural/supernatural worlds by dressing up their mysteries in flesh and bones. Stroke of lightning? Cue the angry bolt-tossing cloud god. Wild seas? Must be that annoyed Poseidon dude. The love in someone’s eyes? Blame a mischievous arrow-wielding cherub. Need to explain the fates? Bring in the trio of thread-weaving crones. What could a wife/mother call upon to aid her during the daily grind? Enter Hera, the paradigm of all long-suffering Wives and Mothers.
Of course, what seemed perfectly acceptably back in the day (e.g., Ancient Rome, Greece, Egypt) is a little harder to simply take at face value today. (Broad generalization warning here:) Modern Paganism teaches that its gods and goddesses are really manifestations of universal gender-polarized energies that can all be traced back to a single cosmic source. Those same energies are in us at all times, also. It is all connected. As such it would only make sense that as much as we are made in the Gods’ images we have in turn made Them in ours as well. As above, so below..
Catholicism is different - well, kinda. Historically, if not spiritually, Christianity seems to have borrowed liberally from both the Pagans and the Jews when sculpting its Higher Power for the masses (another pun intended). It rolled out a Zeus-like father figure who gladly accepts sacrifices, grants favors (miracles) and dispenses final judgments from a throne at the center of a cloud kingdom. Always in the male form (traditionally, if not annoyingly, the dominant culture always gets the privilege of making paradigms) he is considered the One - except of course when he’s the Three, as in Father, Son and Holy Spirit. (And you have to know there are no coincidences when examining this particular dynamic and the use of trinities in earlier Pagan cultures.)
While God has not always been the spokes-icon for The Catholic Church, where he has shown up has left little to the imagination (or to the gender of those who have been doing the imagining). Again, he is often portrayed as an elderly (and therefore supposedly wise) male, bearded, dressed, presumably muscular, seated in a position of ultimate authority and judgment. (Or not: Family Guy)
So spread the Tarot deck and take your pick: did you need The Disappointed-Daddy God or the Merciful Throw-You-A-Bone God? The Ruler of Olympus or The Heavenly Sovereign-as-counter-point-to-that-thoroughly-evil-Lobster-God-of-below?
Judaism offers something entirely different: nothing. Of course, I don’t mean an atheistic void but rather a monolithic (ha ha! yes I'm here all week) Question Mark, an Unknown, perhaps the greatest of Unknowns. There are no stained glass portraits or altar statues of the Sovereign of the Universe in any temple or even a preschooler’s sketch of HaShem in your local synagogue. And good luck trying to find some archeological evidence of Judaism's El Shaddai. Sorry, doesn’t exist. Never did. In fact, a great many Jewish thinkers from across the ages believe that to apply any human characteristics to God - even in terms of gender and emotions - is to be guilty of idolatry.
And, you know what? I get that, I really really do. Because I truly believe the moment we humans believe we can imagine something we try to categorize it/tame it/control it/render it impotent against us. You might reason that after thousands of years of matrimony we would kinda think otherwise. Evolution, apparently, is slow.
Still, what makes perfect theological sense can be quite the conundrum in reality. I don't know about you but in there have been plenty of times in my life when I have needed to imagine my Higher Power in the flesh per se, have some sort of mental picture to either hug or throw darts at, wanted some cosmic coat-hook to hang my fears or joys or praise upon. Sometimes I have needed the universe’s largest shoulder to lay my weary head upon, or have the Eternal Protector watch my back, or just have the Cosmos's oldest entity as a traveling companion along Life’s more lonely paths.
So what does Judaism’s faceless and genderless G-d leave for me to hold onto instead? If I can't pull a ready card out of Judaism's Tarot, what am I left with?
Coming from someone who is converting, my answers may sound limited. Or, if you will, evolving.
Here’s what I know. Instead of imagining a deity whom I can physically recognize and therefore think of as one day being equal to I am forced to reexamine my humble place in a larger cosmos. Instead of figuring out how to please/supplicate/satiate (and therefore second guess) some cloud-based supernatural being/pantheon I must now learn how to relate to my human community, of which I am inescapably a part of, here on earth. Instead of focusing attention (and money) on statues/tapestries/stained glass I am left to direct my thoughts and emotions on Torah and my Jewish family.
Hmmm. Is that what HaShem intended all along?
But then as a Jew I know better than to think I would have that answer.
For instance, Paganism has long been rift with anthropomorphic renderings of the (at the time) unknown. Ancient cultures dealt with the natural/supernatural worlds by dressing up their mysteries in flesh and bones. Stroke of lightning? Cue the angry bolt-tossing cloud god. Wild seas? Must be that annoyed Poseidon dude. The love in someone’s eyes? Blame a mischievous arrow-wielding cherub. Need to explain the fates? Bring in the trio of thread-weaving crones. What could a wife/mother call upon to aid her during the daily grind? Enter Hera, the paradigm of all long-suffering Wives and Mothers.
Of course, what seemed perfectly acceptably back in the day (e.g., Ancient Rome, Greece, Egypt) is a little harder to simply take at face value today. (Broad generalization warning here:) Modern Paganism teaches that its gods and goddesses are really manifestations of universal gender-polarized energies that can all be traced back to a single cosmic source. Those same energies are in us at all times, also. It is all connected. As such it would only make sense that as much as we are made in the Gods’ images we have in turn made Them in ours as well. As above, so below..
Catholicism is different - well, kinda. Historically, if not spiritually, Christianity seems to have borrowed liberally from both the Pagans and the Jews when sculpting its Higher Power for the masses (another pun intended). It rolled out a Zeus-like father figure who gladly accepts sacrifices, grants favors (miracles) and dispenses final judgments from a throne at the center of a cloud kingdom. Always in the male form (traditionally, if not annoyingly, the dominant culture always gets the privilege of making paradigms) he is considered the One - except of course when he’s the Three, as in Father, Son and Holy Spirit. (And you have to know there are no coincidences when examining this particular dynamic and the use of trinities in earlier Pagan cultures.)
While God has not always been the spokes-icon for The Catholic Church, where he has shown up has left little to the imagination (or to the gender of those who have been doing the imagining). Again, he is often portrayed as an elderly (and therefore supposedly wise) male, bearded, dressed, presumably muscular, seated in a position of ultimate authority and judgment. (Or not: Family Guy)
So spread the Tarot deck and take your pick: did you need The Disappointed-Daddy God or the Merciful Throw-You-A-Bone God? The Ruler of Olympus or The Heavenly Sovereign-as-counter-point-to-that-thoroughly-evil-Lobster-God-of-below?
Judaism offers something entirely different: nothing. Of course, I don’t mean an atheistic void but rather a monolithic (ha ha! yes I'm here all week) Question Mark, an Unknown, perhaps the greatest of Unknowns. There are no stained glass portraits or altar statues of the Sovereign of the Universe in any temple or even a preschooler’s sketch of HaShem in your local synagogue. And good luck trying to find some archeological evidence of Judaism's El Shaddai. Sorry, doesn’t exist. Never did. In fact, a great many Jewish thinkers from across the ages believe that to apply any human characteristics to God - even in terms of gender and emotions - is to be guilty of idolatry.
And, you know what? I get that, I really really do. Because I truly believe the moment we humans believe we can imagine something we try to categorize it/tame it/control it/render it impotent against us. You might reason that after thousands of years of matrimony we would kinda think otherwise. Evolution, apparently, is slow.
Still, what makes perfect theological sense can be quite the conundrum in reality. I don't know about you but in there have been plenty of times in my life when I have needed to imagine my Higher Power in the flesh per se, have some sort of mental picture to either hug or throw darts at, wanted some cosmic coat-hook to hang my fears or joys or praise upon. Sometimes I have needed the universe’s largest shoulder to lay my weary head upon, or have the Eternal Protector watch my back, or just have the Cosmos's oldest entity as a traveling companion along Life’s more lonely paths.
So what does Judaism’s faceless and genderless G-d leave for me to hold onto instead? If I can't pull a ready card out of Judaism's Tarot, what am I left with?
Coming from someone who is converting, my answers may sound limited. Or, if you will, evolving.
Here’s what I know. Instead of imagining a deity whom I can physically recognize and therefore think of as one day being equal to I am forced to reexamine my humble place in a larger cosmos. Instead of figuring out how to please/supplicate/satiate (and therefore second guess) some cloud-based supernatural being/pantheon I must now learn how to relate to my human community, of which I am inescapably a part of, here on earth. Instead of focusing attention (and money) on statues/tapestries/stained glass I am left to direct my thoughts and emotions on Torah and my Jewish family.
Hmmm. Is that what HaShem intended all along?
But then as a Jew I know better than to think I would have that answer.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Sarah, Ruth & I...: Catching Up, Part 3: August 2010
Sarah, Ruth & I...: Catching Up, Part 3: August 2010: In which I learn just why "Shalom Rav" and "Am Yisrael Chai" matters
Sarah, Ruth & I...: Catching up, Part 2: July, 2010
Sarah, Ruth & I...: Catching up, Part 2: July, 2010: In which I leave safe housing, wander the desert of Boston, and find a Jewish community
Saturday, January 1, 2011
A Jew on New Year's Eve
Shalom.
Today is January 1st, 2011 and 25 tevet.
I was wondering how I would deal with that New Year’s Eve/Day and Shabbat dichotomy since both were falling on the same date this year. My weary spirit already felt ground down beneath the heel of a seemingly endless Catholic holiday season (or at least my newfound heightened awareness of said religion’s dominance in this culture). I cringed at the thought of going into that inescapable intersection between the holy and the profane where once more the secular and my Judaism was going to collide. Awesome!
So then imagine my relief when I entered Temple Israel Boston yesterday evening to find one of the rabbi wearing a bow tie and tux jacket, tuning up his guitar for service. I had to smile, even laugh. That Shabbat service ended up striking a perfect (and for me, necessary) chord, sounding a Reform song of Jewish tradition with a nod towards the Gregorian calendar. It should come as no surprise to learn there was the option of champagne instead of wine for the Kiddush which started the oneg Shabbat.
I took a glass and raised it, not only for a blessing of wine but for the blessing of being a Jew on New Year’s Eve.
Shavua Tov!
Today is January 1st, 2011 and 25 tevet.
I was wondering how I would deal with that New Year’s Eve/Day and Shabbat dichotomy since both were falling on the same date this year. My weary spirit already felt ground down beneath the heel of a seemingly endless Catholic holiday season (or at least my newfound heightened awareness of said religion’s dominance in this culture). I cringed at the thought of going into that inescapable intersection between the holy and the profane where once more the secular and my Judaism was going to collide. Awesome!
So then imagine my relief when I entered Temple Israel Boston yesterday evening to find one of the rabbi wearing a bow tie and tux jacket, tuning up his guitar for service. I had to smile, even laugh. That Shabbat service ended up striking a perfect (and for me, necessary) chord, sounding a Reform song of Jewish tradition with a nod towards the Gregorian calendar. It should come as no surprise to learn there was the option of champagne instead of wine for the Kiddush which started the oneg Shabbat.
I took a glass and raised it, not only for a blessing of wine but for the blessing of being a Jew on New Year’s Eve.
Shavua Tov!
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