Adventures Accompanied by Aaron

            Shabbat is about an hour away, and I am fully wiped. This week has seen me completing my work for the semester, visiting Tel Aviv and Haifa, riding over 50 miles, taking over 150 pictures, cooking three different dinners, and so much more. Oh yeah, and the arrival of Mr. Aaron Alexander Mosher.

            Aaron and I have traversed this country in just a few days, taking just about every kind of transportation imaginable (bus, sheirut, taxi, train, bike, foot) and covering many miles. Yesterday we were in Haifa to see the Baha’i gardens, and we got a surprise by running into Carly and her boyfriend, Jonathan. The four of us went to lunch after the tour, where Aaron and Jonathan got into a discussion about engineering and Carly and I discussed Rabbinics. However, the most fascinating conversation regarded a Jew marrying a convert. Our discussion revolved around the idea that a convert did not grow up Jewish and therefore doesn’t necessarily know about all the traditions, songs, or childhood activities. No matter, we were all engaged and all made to think about what was discussed.

a little bit of the symmetry of the gardens

            However, let me return to the gardens for a brief moment. The symmetry and cleanliness that abounded in the gardens was absolutely magnificent. Everything had its equal match, demonstrated by looking from one side to the other. Aaron also noticed that on almost all the tiers, there was only one rose left on each side. Our guide said it was accidental, but neither of us were so sure. The 18 levels, nine on top and nine on bottom, represent the 18 initial followers of Baha’u’llah starting in the mid-eigtheen hundreds in Persia (present day Iraq). The religion was founded under the auspices of eliminating warfare. There seemed to be so much destruction and war in the world, and these men and women simply wanted peace and humanity to exist as one. Baha’i followers believe in the institution of marriage, as the foundation for how we learn and grow, and stand for equality between men and women, as well as among all people of the earth.

            These beliefs resonated with me, as ways in which I want to live my life, how I want to go about changing the world. Yet, I feel so strongly about Judaism that I am not sure that this other faith would be possible. Especially because the Baha’i prayer practice is individual, can take place anywhere, and only necessitates two or three prayers, said 2-3 times a day, depending on the person and the practice. In addition, there is no specific time necessitated for it.

            After considering my options (I am in Rabbinical school after all…), I recognize that I agree with the message, that all men are equal and deserve opportunity regardless of their age, race, religion, nationality or any other identifying factor. However, I can enact change right here in Judaism as well, as a Rabbi and as a person. I may not be an extremely charismatic leader, but I do have passion. I love Judaism, I love life, I love people, and I love helping. Those four things, mixed with another of smaller adventures and additions, can help me build a world that will be better than how I found it. That is the most important thing. I spiritually and religiously connect with the Jewish tradition, and will continue on my current path. But I recognize the importance of taking the time to consider other options, other messages, and truly hear what they have to say and how they are said.

            Leaving Haifa, Aaron and I returned home to race through the shuk in time to pay my landlord. Once he left, we made an incredible white wine lemon chicken and garlic bread. The icing on top of the cake was the fact that we were able to just sit and talk for hours (about 3) and just be. We weren’t at dinner or anything and there were no distractions. Plus, we also had chocolate lava cake with whipped cream (so truly, almost icing and cake!!)

Aaron and I at the gardens

            Today dawned early, with me thinking this head cold had taken an even stronger grip. After a shower and some time, I felt good enough to accompany Aaron and Oren on the bike ride to Yad Kennedy. Although Aaron was full of energy and gleeful like a child, I was more subdued, just enjoying being alive.

            We came back, both of us tired. Except it was now time to start preparing for the 13 guests coming for dinner. We made challah (after ruining the yeast two times), apple-strawberry crisp, lentils, and will have salmon. Re-arranging the apartment took some time, as did cleaning up so there would be room for everyone.

The door is open. I'm coming in!

            As I said, it is now 15:48 and the Shabbat siren will go off in about 20 minutes. 

 

The future holds many things, none of them certain. I just look forward to opening the window, and then the door, feeling my way in the dark until I find the light. The light will come, maybe even has come. Regardless, I know I have many people rooting for me, ready to lend me a hand when I fall, or laugh with me along the way. Aaron is one of those people. Ken Yehi Ratzon!

Connecting to God through prayer

Honestly, we often just go through the service without looking at what the words mean. although I do it, and feel something from the practice, I don't necessarily feel as though I am connecting to God. Because for each person, God looks and seems different.

To me, I get release, a sense of calm from praying the Amidah. When beginning, I often question why I am there. Praying is silly and I don't know that I believe in it. However, going through the process means I have a specific outline which I can follow as reference. When I reach the end, with אלוהי נצור, i feel that weight lift. Whatever has been bugging me and therefore weighing me down is no longer as pertinent. Each time I reach this part of the Amidah, I say this prayer to watch my speech and then head into a personal, silent prayer. In this prayer, I always request aid for those in need of God's help and support. Continuing, I acknowledge the blessings in my life and thank God for those blessings. Even more than that, I ask for assistance in finding the tools to keep my life and self in a good place.

Before I began Rabbinical school, I wasn't sure I believed in God. Yet, I continents to engage in worship and silent prayer. My prayer did not include the name God. Yet now, God is the entity at which I direct my prayers. Although personal connection may not exist (God has never spoken through me or anything like that), I do find that determining that connection is important. And now, the words penned by a 17th? Century rabbi make up the bulk of that. It reminds me to guard my lips, making sure I am remaining true and not speaking ill of others. However, God is the one indicated here. I am not one to say God does all and I have no free will. I cannot take the will away from myself, because then, why bother? All ability is then detached from my onus. That onus is what allows me to continue to work, to follow this path. My path is in conjunction with God, not because of God's will.

This prayer gives people a starting off point, a place to find support for prayer without completely taking away the desire for free will. Congregants can use it to come to terms with a lacking belief in God, or a confused one, and use it to engage in conversation with clergy or self

Why I am a Reform Jew

It's been a while since I've written. A regular update to come soon, as so much has occured (I just attended the Israeli rabbinical ordination, last week I spent 2 hours talking with people in the West Bank....). But for now, just a simple essay we had to write for one of our classes entitled, Why I am a Reform Jew

            Choice. Freedom. Growth. Passion. Adventure. Discovery. Reform Judaism, in its many facets, has afforded me the opportunity to explore both who I am as a professional and as an individual.

            As a Reform Jew, I have the ability to choose what practices work best for me. I can daven with an Independent, Egalitarian Minyan or with an ultra-Orthodox congregation. The doors of any synagogue, especially in Jerusalem, are open to me and offer a unique prayer service. However, my knowledge base was not strong enough to allow me the opportunity to attend my choice of service. Yet, as I explored the customs and traditions that grew from generations past, I became aware of an immense beauty in the amorphous liturgy. Reform Judaism gives me the opportunity to learn from this plethora of institutions, and then truly decide which place works for me. Although I appreciate the traditional Ashkenazi shul, with a high mechitza separating the men from the women of the congregation, that is not the place for me. I like an Egalitarian service, but one that goes through the entire service, reads the entire Torah Portion. I like knowing what the full service looks like, with all the different pieces and parts. The experience of knowledge enables me. Without it, I cannot choose what I want because I am not in possession of all the individual pieces. Reform Judaism allows me to then piece together the aspects of tefillah that most resonate with me and find the passion within myself. I get a feeling of kesher, connection, to the generations.

            Reform Judaism has a huge base in aggadic tradition, looking more to moral and ethical guidelines than to the ones prescribed in the Torah, as supposedly given by Moses on Sinai. The options are endless for how a Jew may choose his or her practice, and my life is no exception. I can dress modestly (which I explored for a short time), I can choose to keep strict Biblical Kosher and wait a certain amount of time before I eat. I can decide that I do not want to touch men until I am married, and then only my husband. And those are just a few examples of outward signs of what Judaism might look like. However, I do not personally choose all of those things. I want to explore them, to potentially understand how those practices might enhance my life, but as a Reform Jew in the twenty-first century, I am able to make a choice. I choose to keep Kosher, but only to the point where I do not mix milk and meat. Keeping two sets of dishes does not necessarily resonate with me. I will wait until the table is cleared to eat dairy after meat, but not an hour or 6. I choose to touch men now, for two reasons. One, that I want to know what I’m getting into before I marry and because it can enhance a relationship or be a significant part in discovering if a connection between me and another person is sound.

The symbolism of how a person interacts with their environment is often a telling way of ascertaining what their beliefs are (especially here in Israel, where a kippah or skirt deems someone as religious). However, as a Reform Jew, my Judaism is fed from within. I am proud to be a Reform Jew when I lead a worship service that utilizes guitar, piano, and pure voices. I am proud to be a Reform Jew when I see the power the Union has to assert help for the victims of Hurricane Sandy on the East Coast. I am proud to be a Reform Jew when I go to Ethiopia, to Haiti, and see the immense continuing relief work that the JDC engages in on behalf of the Jewish people.

            Education and synagogue attendance may not be the highest they have ever been, but those who are engaged in Jewish education and who attend t’fillot regularly are ones I am proud to be associated with. They are passionate about what they are learning and even choose to pass on the knowledge to others, ensuring that Judaism will live on! I get to be a part of that. Not only that, but the passion and spiritual depth of the youth of this Movement will carry Reform Judaism (and every strand of Judaism) into the next generation. I look forward to the fact that I will one day teach these young people, bestowing upon them the same sense of adventure and love of learning that NFTY and Jewish camping instilled within me. I am a Reform Jew because NFTY and the URJ Camps, specifically GUCI, inspired me and continue to offer so many the opportunity to see Judaism in action, to live Jewishly, even for one month and a few weekends out of the year. The discovery that occurs at camp, helping children understand how special Reform Judaism is, demonstrating to them that Judaism is a living breathing entity that they are indeed apart of; that is my inspiration. Just walk into a chadar ohel after any meal at most URJ camps and the amount of ruach, spirit, is overwhelming. That inspires me and keeps me going, pursuing Reform Judaism and the Rabbinate in particular.

            Not only that, but Reform Judaism doesn’t go away. It isn’t pushy about what people should and shouldn’t believe and allows people to create their own personal path. My congregation at home instituted a program called IJP: Individualized Jewish Path. This project helps individuals or families figure out what their most profound Jewish journey is and what steps they individually need to take in order to see it to fruition. Although the number of individuals who took advantage of this opportunity was not public knowledge, the direct impact was that many more lay leaders emerged within the congregation. People started planning their own personal Mitzvah projects, creating a Mitzvah garden on the synagogue grounds or developing a Mitzvah tree, with different Mitzvah opportunities available for congregants to do. Passion evolved and demonstrated the power of individual choice on a congregational basis. Each time I came home from school, I saw more people at services, more people eager to take control of their own Jewish journey. I am proud to be a Reform Jew because I am both part of that movement and that people. I have seen the inspiration of many a person and been personally instilled with a sense of responsibility for not only my fellow Jew, but my fellow man. I am a Reform Jew because we, as Jews, care about all people and take pride in being both willing and able to help anyone in need. We help those individuals explore their personal connections and aspire to assist them in as sincere and singular a way as possible, in order to allow them to pursue their dreams and desires.

            The path of conversion used to be something that was kept a secret. Not only that, but if you were homosexual, there wasn’t an option to be a part of many congregations. Now, due to the hard work of the then UAHC and the CCAR, both converts and people of any sexual persuasion are accepted into the Reform Jewish world. I welcome everyone to daven, to learn, to engage in Tikkun Olam with me, and cannot be more appreciative and respectful of the stand Reform Judaism takes.

While dating someone who was not Jewish, I began feeling a stronger desire to go to services. I wanted to learn more and be able to engage in deeper discussions about the meanings behind traditions. Even more than that, he constantly asked me questions about a particular practice and what it meant. I would get frustrated, feeling that he should know the answers. Yet, now that he has developed a deeper understanding of the ritual and the tradition, he pushes back and engages in a dialogue all his own.  He encourages me to understand my practice and why I do it, not because he doesn’t understand, but because his practice is so different from my own. Reform Judaism allows us to engage in a dialogue about the future, about him becoming Jewish and what that looks like, of him having a woman help him through the process of conversion. Reform Judaism is the reason he is choosing to be Jewish and therefore I am incredibly proud be find my home here! Although we are no longer dating, he has continued to explore Judaism on his own and hopes one day to convert. I saw first hand the power that Judaism can have in someone’s life as well as how much I personally enjoy teaching it. As a Reform Jew, I have the opportunity to do that!