Why I am in Rabbinical school #5

You know you're in Rabbinical school when you get incredibly excited about finding books for your final paper in the library, because you end up with five instead of 2...

Books can come in all shapes and sizes

It turns out I am a nerd. Now, this is not a new fact by any stretch of the imagination, but I need to put it out there for the entire world to be privy to. In addition, this is not a bad fact or characteristic to demonstrate. Rather, it allows me to fully take advantage of the life I am currently living, because (surprise, surprise) I am in Rabbinical school where it is practically required to be truly enjoy school and relish learning. Fortunately for me, I am reminded of this fact often enough that the amount of class I am forced to slug through on a daily basis, and then the homework I stare at blankly for hours afterwards, become less daunting and more of a small hindrance.

But, back to the topic at hand: learning! I ventured into the library to procure a book or two in order to write my final paper for Israel Seminar. Having chosen a topic of Mt Herzl, collective space, and Yad Vashem (surprising, I know, to find that I chose to write about the Holocaust, or at least death, in any case), I looked to two different places in the library and came across a veritable plethora of treasures. Almost all of the books were on Israeli Judaism and/or civil religion in Israel. In and of itself, a fascinating topic; I could have remained among the old spines for hours, whispering with them and determining their not so ancient secrets of this secretive people (Israelis).

Not only was my adventure within the narrow alleyways of the library part of my mental stimulation, but my lunch partners previous to this were just as engaging. Andrew and Justin had spent the morning visiting Mea Shearim, Ben Yehudah, and Machene Yehudah; peeking into bookstores and chachky stores alike, looking to see what secrets these opposing universes held. While one was full of black and white, a disparate neighborhood just waiting for a welfare board to come in, the other is packed full of food and shops, the hustle and bustle here one of productivity and prosperity. Oddly enough, having been in Mea Shearim yesterday, the comparison seems rather hollow. Both places are alight with productivity, seemingly like bees abuzz. Both are crowded with bodies, moving every which way, noises ricocheting off the construction, store counter and cars alike. But the backbone of the places is inherently different. One is based on religion, on commandedness. The other, on culture and social society.

Regardless, Andrew and Justin were leaving a venture into both worlds, one after the other. We met up for lunch at Mandarin, to enjoy yet another culture experience, that of Chinese. Over egg drop soup (for me) and vegetable Lo Mein (for them), we discussed Hebrew as a language, philosophy of religion, the future of the Reform movement (as well as all the movements), and again touched on monogamous versus 'accepting' relationships, and where the biblical basis for this comes.

Piggy backing on the discussion we began last night, on whether or not it is permissible to be in a relationship with one person, but then have extra-marital sexual relations with another, if it is previously agreed up, we continued discussing. Although I am not one for multi-partner monogamous relationships, both gentlemen made a decent argument. I disagreed, but a fragment of my being can see their point and appreciate where they are coming from. However, I then remember that the entire conversation began talking about arranged marriages in the Orthodox world and the whole conversation changes. Therefore, I suggest, if you are not part of that Orthodox world, that it is worthwhile to find a partner with whom you agree and can be satisfied without the necessity of an outside, third party interloper.

Market day on the side of the road in Ethiopia

Regardless of where this conversation began, we ended up talking late into the night last night, almost like I was back in college, at least what it would have been like if I wasn't in bed by 11:30 most nights...Anyway, we discussed adventuring the world and communicating with people, showing them who you are and learning about how to read people, how to understand the pain and suffering seen in the world, or at least steps to take in order to alleviate that pain [read: Elana talked about her time in Ethiopia and the pain and suffering she saw and began to work to combat]. We discussed the horrors that I saw there, the open wounds and the pain and desolation. The scent at the Mission, where I went for almost two weeks straight and often spent time with the children, making up games and languages, has stuck with me to this day. However, I met a man who showed me that the impossible is never that. There is always a way to do more, to make changes. That man, Dr. Rick Hodes, was the first one who really demonstrated to me that I need to persevere in this world if I truly want to make changes. I have always kept that teaching and those lessons in mind, even as I struggle to do a daily task.

Dr Rick Hodes, with his son Mesfin, in Addas Ababa

In the midst of that conversation, we all three realized that the work each of us want to do will change the world for the better. We are working to become positive role models for the coming generations, each in our own way (Rabbi (Elana), clean energy engineer (Justin), educator (Andrew)), but we all knew from an early age that we wanted to make a change in the world. As I told the two guys last night. You can teach someone what they need to know. You cannot teach compassion. Nor can you teach passion. Passion is something that burns within. And that is the motivating factor that ultimately underlies the work each of us will do to change the world.