For all the good Jews out there, most people spent today, Christmas, with their family and saw a new movie and ate tasty Chinese food. This year, unlike all the times in my past, I did not. No, it wasn't because I didn't think of a good movie to see. And, no, there are plenty of kosher Chinese places around me in Brooklyn. So why didn't I celebrate Christmas like a Jew is supposed to? Well, actually... I did....
This year instead of going out with friends (or family) and going to see a movie and eat Chinese, I celebrated Christmas the traditional way- by observing nittil. Nittil is when European Jews abstain from learning Torah on Christmas Eve until Christmas morning. In Europe during the Christmas season, Christians would come back from Church and start pogroms, where they killed Jews and beat them, stoned them, and destroyed their homes and properties. If we were caught studying Torah, all the more reason to kill us.
It may be silly to think that I, an American in 2012, would still observe this "nittil" idea, however, after studying Christianity the last few weeks, I have found myself very uncomfortable. This uncomfort has very little to do with Christians; in fact, it has more with the American Jewish population today.
Today, I saw some of my old Rabbis of the Reform movement wishing their friend's a "Merry Christmas" and I saw all of my friends from Jewish camp, Israel, and youth group talking about how they either celebrated Christmas with their Christian family or the "Jewish" way. I am not opposed to being nice to other people from different religions and cultures, but why are we celebrating the day Christians decided to not only convert all idolatrous pagans to Christianity (historically Jesus's birth took place in March/April, but they changed it to the Winter Solstice in December, in order to convert pagans), but also to slaughter Jews left and right for killing their gd?
I may get opposition from many people who say that Christmas is just an American holiday and Christianity isn't like that anymore. I dare these people to look up Canon Law (that is an irrevocable Christian law, which is seen as coming from Gd's mouth himself). It basically states that we, Jews are the Devil and will be punished and oppressed for all eternity to pay for our sins. That's why the Pope didn't stop the Holocaust when he had the chance. Even if you think that it's only the corrupted Pope and the Catholic Church that claims Jews are the Devil, simply look at the New Testament in John 8:39-47 (linked). Many people also misinterpret Protestantism for being more "pro-Jew" then the other Christian sects but Martin Luther himself wrote is his work The Jews and Their Lies, "Wherever you hear a Jew teaching, do not think otherwise than you are hearing a poisonous Basilikus... know, my dear Christians, that next to the Devil you have no more bitter, more poisonous, more vehement an enemy than a real Jew...".
Don't think I am trying to paint the typical Christian as a Jew-hating war-monger. Luckily, in America, most (if not all) the Christians I know are good, sweet-hearted, and loving individuals. And, B"H, they also don't know what their own books reads, for if they did, we would be in huge trouble. My point, however, is why are we, the Jewish people, celebrating Christmas? We should be ignoring it, if not protesting it. But to join in the "merrymaking"? It actually repulses me because on this day literally thousands of Jews have been attacked, killed, and abused because of the holiday. And here I am supposed to celebrate it?
Growing up as an "American", I loved Christmas because it's when EVERYONE was being nice. People gave to charity, more adults smiled, and everyone seemed more upbeat. Even though I also felt very left out when all my friends got a Christmas tree and presents. I told myself, no worries! I'm Jewish, so I get Chanukah instead! I got eight nights of presents and a menorah (also a "light"). But the funny thing is, this Chanukah I learned what the true meaning of it was: anti-Hellenism. Chanukah is a time to be a Maccabee and stand up and protest the surrounding culture. The only person I want to be, today, is me! Rivkah Zissel Aviva Morris, a Jew. And the fact I didn't know Christmas was today made me proud. But it also made me aware of what so many secular Jews truly don't understand: There are so many great and wonderful and beautiful things about being apart of this American nation. We get to finally be ourselves and practice our own religion! Being Jews, starting with Avraham HaIvri (Abraham the Other), we have always challenged the world and remained unique. And now, we get to not only remain unique individuals from Gd's nation, but now we don't have to be oppressed and killed for our beliefs!
And this is why I celebrated nittil this year. I find it tragic that we have come to be like everyone else, celebrating Christmas (even if it is movies and food) and having trees (call it a Chanukah Bush all you like) and fitting in with everyone else because we want to be like them instead of ourselves. I may have celebrated Christmas in a non-orthodox way this year, but I think that is because in the end, I really wasn't celebrating anything at all.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Torah Spin: Desensitization and Social Tolerance
I don't watch the news anymore. I used be absorbed in the news, watching CNN and occasionally FOX and reading five different newspapers from the American New York Times and the Wall Street Journal to the Israeli papers Yedioth Yisroel and the Jerusalem Post, and even some Arab-world newspapers sporadically. I felt that being informed was vital. As it turns out, the news has gotten progressively more and more sensational and now I can't watch it. In fact, the only reason I found out about the recent school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary, was because I walked into a Dunkin' Donuts with a TV. But that fact I found out about it didn't upset me nearly as much as when the media was clearly exploiting it for viewers.
Nevertheless, the commentary on exploitation has also been pretty killed by secondary media, such as facebook, twitter, and blogs have been concerned. We get it- people die, news exploits it, people react to the unjust exploitation, people try to make stricter gun laws and anti-violent video games, and still, NOTHING GETS DONE! The hipsters and indie underground love talking about the "machine", but they are in an exploitative wave of their own. Why is it the gun industries' fault? The mental illness sector's fault? The violent video-game industries fault? Hasn't any one realized it's all our fault?
Letting our society become desensitized to violence is our problem. Not video games, not movies, not the access to guns, and not the very few and understaffed mental institutions' fault. It's the people who walk into Game Stop and are not throwing up when their ten year old is asking for the new war game.
I just heard a story today of one of my Rabbi's friend's bringing his veteran father to see the movie Saving Private Ryan. In the first scene is the depiction of body parts flying on D-Day. His father walked out of the movie, sat down, and was silent for a full ten minutes. When his son finally got a response, it went something like this: "That's how it looked. That was D-Day." I just want you to imagine what it must be like to see your friends, comrades, brothers being blown up. Body parts flying, heads being blown off. No man can go into war with out ending up insane, if even only temporarily.
Let's talk about war in the Torah. There is a concept of "Yafeh Toar." While I will not get into the gritty details of this law, the reason rape on the battle field will not be prosecuted by Torah Law is not because it's abhorrent (which it makes clear). It's because you cannot try a man who was temporarily insane. War makes people insane. Who wants to bring insanity into their home?
I'm not worried about my friend's playing Nazi Zombies or Call of Duty and then going out to shoot someone. That is ludicrous. But the fact that people can play it and think their sense of morality is intact IS INSANE. War brings insanity, if it doesn't, you are desensitized. People can tell me that it isn't real war, so insanity can't possibly apply. I bet you the veteran father didn't think what he was seeing was real either. Reality is up to the idividual's perception.
The Jews got Torah on Mt. Sinai 3,300 years ago. During this time there was a very small group of people who commit a grave sin: idolatry. Gd literally just took them out of Egypt, with his own hand, and a group of Jews had the nerve to make a golden calf, chat ha'egel. The sin of the golden calf was momentous. The Levites slaughtered everyone involved (about 3,000 people). However, it is noted that the Jews suffer today for the sin. Every time we have great joy, not everything goes according to plan. Why would we, the non-involved (remember there was some 3 million people, 3,000 is 0.1% of the entire nation), be punished for something that happened 3,300 years ago and didn't even involve a fraction of us?! It's because WE WERE ALL HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR LETTING IT HAPPEN.
This idea of social tolerance does not need to be as wide-spread as the school shootings. What happened to Kitty Genovese, or, more recently, to Ki-Suck Han (who got pushed on the subway)? Were people on the platform so removed and comfortable seeing someone in distress that they would do nothing? It makes me scream: WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO OUR SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY?!
Tolerance of this behavior is what happened to our social responsibility. Columbine shouldn't have happened. But now that it has, Virginia Tech should of never been a thought in our mind, forget Sandy Hook Elementary. Every one wonders how we could stop it. And I can tell you: stop telling people violence, in any form, is okay. And that is hard.
Tell people when they are playing a violent video game it's disgusting. What is so wrong with telling someone that killing someone (real or virtual) is nauseating? I think people are afraid to use that word. Forget about the word "wrong." I don't even think "wrong" exists in American Society once you leave math class. If every one is right, tell me why killing children is wrong? The pathway to hell is paved with good intentions. And "inherently good-intentioned people," who think killing some groups of people is "good," are acceptable in American society!... As long as they don't take action. Shouldn't this be the definition of wrong? Or is that just me?
In America, being a consenting adult gives you licence to do what ever you want. And I am not talking about gay marriage here, I'm talking about R rated movies, gun and car licenses, and even the age of consent. Age in America tells people now that they have lived a certain number of years, they can do what they please. In the fine print, America is telling you now that you are older, nothing will effect you.
People need to step up and tell the world if their going to smoke three packs a day, they are going to die. If they drink a handle to themselves, they are going to die. If they desensitize themselves to violence, they will die. They will die if they go to the movies. They will die if they go to high school, and now, they can die if they go to elementary school. They will die if they walk outside too late at night. They'll die. Just like not every smoker dies from smoke, not ever desensitized member of society dies from violence. But their chances of survival continues to wane.
Violent video games isn't the only socially acceptable type of violence. Guns are most often used and protected legally by hunters. I don't care that hunting is socially acceptable, the idea of killing a living being for game is abhorrent. If you kill for food, have fun! But don't think that it doesn't affect your sense of morality. If you own a gun to show off to your buddies, have fun. But never forget that this is a tool to kill. That is what it was made for and that is what it is meant for. And when it goes off accidentally and kills someone, why are we surprised? There was an incident recently where a tiger or lion attacked a small boy and killed him. People thought killing the tiger would bring justice. If a tiger is born to kill, why is it punished when it kills? It was the zoos fault for not making the cage taller, not the tiger's. With guns, the same things goes, it's not the gun's fault for killing someone but it IS societies fault for letting people keep this figurative tiger in their homes.
The reason violence happens in our society is because it is allowed. I feel that if people would stop numbing themselves to violence through entertainment (movies, video games, hunting, ect) school shootings will stop. But to tell someone what they are doing is wrong has become taboo in American society. I think Sandy Hook is just another shooting in a sea of many to come. Hopefully people will start to wake up and say that violence needs to stop. All violence need to stop NOW.
Nevertheless, the commentary on exploitation has also been pretty killed by secondary media, such as facebook, twitter, and blogs have been concerned. We get it- people die, news exploits it, people react to the unjust exploitation, people try to make stricter gun laws and anti-violent video games, and still, NOTHING GETS DONE! The hipsters and indie underground love talking about the "machine", but they are in an exploitative wave of their own. Why is it the gun industries' fault? The mental illness sector's fault? The violent video-game industries fault? Hasn't any one realized it's all our fault?
Letting our society become desensitized to violence is our problem. Not video games, not movies, not the access to guns, and not the very few and understaffed mental institutions' fault. It's the people who walk into Game Stop and are not throwing up when their ten year old is asking for the new war game.
I just heard a story today of one of my Rabbi's friend's bringing his veteran father to see the movie Saving Private Ryan. In the first scene is the depiction of body parts flying on D-Day. His father walked out of the movie, sat down, and was silent for a full ten minutes. When his son finally got a response, it went something like this: "That's how it looked. That was D-Day." I just want you to imagine what it must be like to see your friends, comrades, brothers being blown up. Body parts flying, heads being blown off. No man can go into war with out ending up insane, if even only temporarily.
Let's talk about war in the Torah. There is a concept of "Yafeh Toar." While I will not get into the gritty details of this law, the reason rape on the battle field will not be prosecuted by Torah Law is not because it's abhorrent (which it makes clear). It's because you cannot try a man who was temporarily insane. War makes people insane. Who wants to bring insanity into their home?
I'm not worried about my friend's playing Nazi Zombies or Call of Duty and then going out to shoot someone. That is ludicrous. But the fact that people can play it and think their sense of morality is intact IS INSANE. War brings insanity, if it doesn't, you are desensitized. People can tell me that it isn't real war, so insanity can't possibly apply. I bet you the veteran father didn't think what he was seeing was real either. Reality is up to the idividual's perception.
The Jews got Torah on Mt. Sinai 3,300 years ago. During this time there was a very small group of people who commit a grave sin: idolatry. Gd literally just took them out of Egypt, with his own hand, and a group of Jews had the nerve to make a golden calf, chat ha'egel. The sin of the golden calf was momentous. The Levites slaughtered everyone involved (about 3,000 people). However, it is noted that the Jews suffer today for the sin. Every time we have great joy, not everything goes according to plan. Why would we, the non-involved (remember there was some 3 million people, 3,000 is 0.1% of the entire nation), be punished for something that happened 3,300 years ago and didn't even involve a fraction of us?! It's because WE WERE ALL HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR LETTING IT HAPPEN.
This idea of social tolerance does not need to be as wide-spread as the school shootings. What happened to Kitty Genovese, or, more recently, to Ki-Suck Han (who got pushed on the subway)? Were people on the platform so removed and comfortable seeing someone in distress that they would do nothing? It makes me scream: WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO OUR SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY?!
Tolerance of this behavior is what happened to our social responsibility. Columbine shouldn't have happened. But now that it has, Virginia Tech should of never been a thought in our mind, forget Sandy Hook Elementary. Every one wonders how we could stop it. And I can tell you: stop telling people violence, in any form, is okay. And that is hard.
Tell people when they are playing a violent video game it's disgusting. What is so wrong with telling someone that killing someone (real or virtual) is nauseating? I think people are afraid to use that word. Forget about the word "wrong." I don't even think "wrong" exists in American Society once you leave math class. If every one is right, tell me why killing children is wrong? The pathway to hell is paved with good intentions. And "inherently good-intentioned people," who think killing some groups of people is "good," are acceptable in American society!... As long as they don't take action. Shouldn't this be the definition of wrong? Or is that just me?
In America, being a consenting adult gives you licence to do what ever you want. And I am not talking about gay marriage here, I'm talking about R rated movies, gun and car licenses, and even the age of consent. Age in America tells people now that they have lived a certain number of years, they can do what they please. In the fine print, America is telling you now that you are older, nothing will effect you.
People need to step up and tell the world if their going to smoke three packs a day, they are going to die. If they drink a handle to themselves, they are going to die. If they desensitize themselves to violence, they will die. They will die if they go to the movies. They will die if they go to high school, and now, they can die if they go to elementary school. They will die if they walk outside too late at night. They'll die. Just like not every smoker dies from smoke, not ever desensitized member of society dies from violence. But their chances of survival continues to wane.
Violent video games isn't the only socially acceptable type of violence. Guns are most often used and protected legally by hunters. I don't care that hunting is socially acceptable, the idea of killing a living being for game is abhorrent. If you kill for food, have fun! But don't think that it doesn't affect your sense of morality. If you own a gun to show off to your buddies, have fun. But never forget that this is a tool to kill. That is what it was made for and that is what it is meant for. And when it goes off accidentally and kills someone, why are we surprised? There was an incident recently where a tiger or lion attacked a small boy and killed him. People thought killing the tiger would bring justice. If a tiger is born to kill, why is it punished when it kills? It was the zoos fault for not making the cage taller, not the tiger's. With guns, the same things goes, it's not the gun's fault for killing someone but it IS societies fault for letting people keep this figurative tiger in their homes.
The reason violence happens in our society is because it is allowed. I feel that if people would stop numbing themselves to violence through entertainment (movies, video games, hunting, ect) school shootings will stop. But to tell someone what they are doing is wrong has become taboo in American society. I think Sandy Hook is just another shooting in a sea of many to come. Hopefully people will start to wake up and say that violence needs to stop. All violence need to stop NOW.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
What Am I Doing?
What am I doing? I ask that almost every single day when I wake up and say Modeh Ani (the prayer for being thankful for waking up), get dressed (where are my jeans?!), when I eat (is this ha'adama or ha'eitz?), and even when I come out of the bathroom (I am always missing a word or two in Asher Yeztar- The prayer thanking Gd for a functioning body). Just like Gd recreates the world every day, I am constantly accosted by the realization I am recreating myself. Unlike most people, however, my "recreation" isn't staying the exact same with a slight twist. Eg: I am not doing what I normally do plus driving to Shul one Friday out of the month; or deciding that maybe I'll avoid bacon from now on. I literally changed my dress, my language, my surroundings, and my outlook on life. And these things, like everything else, aren't "permanent" fixtures. Every single time I say Modeh Ani or Asher Yetzar or eat food, I am making an active decision, a "choice" per say. When was the last time you looked into your closet and decided if you were wearing what you were because you "like it" or because it was in style? Or you eat what you eat because you enjoy it or because it was cheap and available? What about your language? Do you speak a certain way (slang or otherwise) because you chose to or because it's automatic? How about where you live?! I'm not asking these questions in order to go on my "do you live your life or let it just happen to you" rant. I'm asking them because at the end of the day, I am amazed how I am able to recreate myself... but at the same time I wonder: What am I doing?!
What I am doing often comes along with the realization, who am I doing it for? While deep in my heart I know I have changed and undertook a constant path of growth for myself, I often throw in the towel and say "I'm doing it for Him." Him being Hashem. Many people may scratch their head, because it would seem more logical for me to have done it for the opposite motives (Him on the deep level, and myself for the superficial). Nevertheless, I still have a lot to grow religiously and this is the reason: I still miss a lot from my past. I miss some of the friends I have become estranged from ( because I'm now "weird"(-er)). I miss lots of the things I used to do. I miss waking up and throwing on jeans and a t-shirt and eating what ever and where ever I felt like eating. I miss doing what ever I pleased. I miss a lot more then I really should.
When I comes down to it, I am happier now then I was in the past. Correction, I am now happy. Before, I was unhappy and felt life was meaningless and pointless and I didn't really want a part of it. While I used to throw on jeans, I never really liked what I wore. I did it because I could blend into the background, unnoticed, and comfortable. Now, I like what I wear and look much more put-together. To my mother's elation, I also look much more feminine (try looking like a boy in a skirt!). When I eat, it may not be convenient, but every time I eat I feel special. Seriously! I started keeping kosher (I'll admit it: kosher style) when I got back from Israel at sixteen years old. I wasn't observant in the slightest, but by keeping kosher style, I felt Jew-ish at least three times a day. Now, debating between what hecsher (kosher certification) I should hold by or if I should become Cholov Yisroel (a kosher stringency concerning dairy products), I not only feel "Jewish" I am purposely declaring that is exactly what I am. I am Jewish and this makes me special! This, though, is mostly internal.
When I am doing a commandment, I am doing it for Gd's sake even though I know it's "good for me". If Gd came to me today and told me that I could eat bacon, wear whatever I liked, and get a tattoo, you best believe I'd be sitting in a tattoo shop with a cheeseburger, wearing jeans and a short-sleeve t-shirt, in twenty minutes flat. Actually, scratch that, I know the person at the tattoo place down the street- I could make it there in five. Point is, I often ask myself what am I doing?! And I answer: I'm doing what Gd wants me to do. But deep down inside, I know I'm doing what makes me happy and fulfilled. I can't believe I'm the person I am. I wish I could go back to the eighth grade version of myself and say, "Hey YOU! Look! We are amazing!" Because I, honestly, feel amazing. Every detail of my life has meaning. What more could I ask for? What more could I want?
What more could any one need?
What I am doing often comes along with the realization, who am I doing it for? While deep in my heart I know I have changed and undertook a constant path of growth for myself, I often throw in the towel and say "I'm doing it for Him." Him being Hashem. Many people may scratch their head, because it would seem more logical for me to have done it for the opposite motives (Him on the deep level, and myself for the superficial). Nevertheless, I still have a lot to grow religiously and this is the reason: I still miss a lot from my past. I miss some of the friends I have become estranged from ( because I'm now "weird"(-er)). I miss lots of the things I used to do. I miss waking up and throwing on jeans and a t-shirt and eating what ever and where ever I felt like eating. I miss doing what ever I pleased. I miss a lot more then I really should.
When I comes down to it, I am happier now then I was in the past. Correction, I am now happy. Before, I was unhappy and felt life was meaningless and pointless and I didn't really want a part of it. While I used to throw on jeans, I never really liked what I wore. I did it because I could blend into the background, unnoticed, and comfortable. Now, I like what I wear and look much more put-together. To my mother's elation, I also look much more feminine (try looking like a boy in a skirt!). When I eat, it may not be convenient, but every time I eat I feel special. Seriously! I started keeping kosher (I'll admit it: kosher style) when I got back from Israel at sixteen years old. I wasn't observant in the slightest, but by keeping kosher style, I felt Jew-ish at least three times a day. Now, debating between what hecsher (kosher certification) I should hold by or if I should become Cholov Yisroel (a kosher stringency concerning dairy products), I not only feel "Jewish" I am purposely declaring that is exactly what I am. I am Jewish and this makes me special! This, though, is mostly internal.
When I am doing a commandment, I am doing it for Gd's sake even though I know it's "good for me". If Gd came to me today and told me that I could eat bacon, wear whatever I liked, and get a tattoo, you best believe I'd be sitting in a tattoo shop with a cheeseburger, wearing jeans and a short-sleeve t-shirt, in twenty minutes flat. Actually, scratch that, I know the person at the tattoo place down the street- I could make it there in five. Point is, I often ask myself what am I doing?! And I answer: I'm doing what Gd wants me to do. But deep down inside, I know I'm doing what makes me happy and fulfilled. I can't believe I'm the person I am. I wish I could go back to the eighth grade version of myself and say, "Hey YOU! Look! We are amazing!" Because I, honestly, feel amazing. Every detail of my life has meaning. What more could I ask for? What more could I want?
What more could any one need?
Monday, December 3, 2012
I've Got the Whole World In My Hands
I'm sitting here eating a bag of party/trail mix, blasting some Ben Harper (can I used the term "blasting" to define folk-rock, or should I keep that term for my post-hardcore music?), looking for my lip ring, avoiding homework, and informally wondering about the world.
About half an hour ago, my brother and I had a nice conversation about the Orthodox Community and how it just keeps getting smaller and smaller. As we hang up, I check my email to get a message from a nice lady who thought I (and you- my readers) would appreciate her new book (a little shameless advertising for others doesn't hurt!): Becoming Frum: How Newcomers Learn the Language and Culture of Orthodox Judaism (Rutgers University Press, Nov. 2012: http://
I sat down and read some of the book's excerpts online and started to laugh. How perfect does this world run? Here I am, writing a blog that had transformed from a mere daily diary to avoid repeating myself to both my parents and extended family... and now it's read by my family, friends, and complete strangers from America to Israel to Germany (-yeah, I was surprised about that one too). While reading this book's excerpts, it was talking about religious/cultural ties. My last blog dubbed "Unorthroprax" was explaining the often sixth-grade-level awkwardness while trying to enter the religious community and "fit in." The blog your currently reading, "Perpetually Perplexed," is supposed to be about how, despite my new found "Yeshivish (English/Hebrew/Yiddish)" lingo and tznius (modest) attire, I still stick out like a sore thumb in the religious community, still on my quest to grow religiously and personally. Her book, Becoming Frum, was talking about these very same things, only in a more scientifically researched way. But, nonetheless I thought it newsworthy to write about because if you think maintaining who you are when all your trying to do is change is easy, become a Baal Teshuva!!!
Otherwise, I was going to go off topic and rant about some cool torah-thoughts I heard recently, but I have psychology papers to write before midnight, so expect some soul/body connections soon!
About half an hour ago, my brother and I had a nice conversation about the Orthodox Community and how it just keeps getting smaller and smaller. As we hang up, I check my email to get a message from a nice lady who thought I (and you- my readers) would appreciate her new book (a little shameless advertising for others doesn't hurt!): Becoming Frum: How Newcomers Learn the Language and Culture of Orthodox Judaism (Rutgers University Press, Nov. 2012: http://
I sat down and read some of the book's excerpts online and started to laugh. How perfect does this world run? Here I am, writing a blog that had transformed from a mere daily diary to avoid repeating myself to both my parents and extended family... and now it's read by my family, friends, and complete strangers from America to Israel to Germany (-yeah, I was surprised about that one too). While reading this book's excerpts, it was talking about religious/cultural ties. My last blog dubbed "Unorthroprax" was explaining the often sixth-grade-level awkwardness while trying to enter the religious community and "fit in." The blog your currently reading, "Perpetually Perplexed," is supposed to be about how, despite my new found "Yeshivish (English/Hebrew/Yiddish)" lingo and tznius (modest) attire, I still stick out like a sore thumb in the religious community, still on my quest to grow religiously and personally. Her book, Becoming Frum, was talking about these very same things, only in a more scientifically researched way. But, nonetheless I thought it newsworthy to write about because if you think maintaining who you are when all your trying to do is change is easy, become a Baal Teshuva!!!
Otherwise, I was going to go off topic and rant about some cool torah-thoughts I heard recently, but I have psychology papers to write before midnight, so expect some soul/body connections soon!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Conflict and Citizenship
I just wanted to quickly post a short segment on the current situation in Israel. Over a hundred (if not hundreds) of rockets have been fired over into Israel in the last few weeks. I pray to Hashem that the Israelis, and especially the IDF soldiers, remain safe and healthy. I also wanted to add that despite the ceasefire, there is a war going on against the Jews and the West by extreme militant Islamists. I hope that America and Europe will wake up and realize that this is not a P.R. war, where the best pictures win. This is a serious conflict in which terrorists are shooting missiles and rockets (and blowing up buses) to KILL Israeli citizens, and then hide behind their own children's schools and hospitals.
While I am not a warmonger, I want these people out.
As Golda Meir said best, "I can forgive them for killing my children, but I cannot forgive them for making me kill theirs. We will only have peace with the Arabs when they love their children more than they hate ours."
I want peace. I want peace now. But I believe true peace will only come when we recognize each other's humanity. In order to do that, we need to help the victims of both sides. Whether it's sending toys and medical aid to the children of Sderot or Gaza City, or setting up support groups for victims who've lost limbs and family members... These are the things that will bring about peace.
Other things that will bring about peace are liberating the Palestinians from their true oppressors- the Arab nation. The Arab states have refused to let the Palestinians have a state of their own. In fact, their Arab captors have literally hijacked the Palestinians' land, east of the Jordan River, and continue to suppress them in order to use them as a political pawn in order to "Drive Israel into the sea." They would kill every Palestinian in order to get rid of Israel. When will the real oppression stop?
With this said, this is the perfect time to make my announcement. Tomorrow, I meet with a Nefesh B'Nefesh representative to talk about getting my
Israeli citizenship.
Despite it being a time of "war" in Israel, I stand firm with my home.
We have survived a dozen wars and three exiles...
And we will continue to survive until the Moshiach comes.
But, instead of following the Moshiach into Israel,
I'll be welcoming him in.
Mar Cheshvan (Bitter Cheshvan)
The entire month of Cheshvan (10/17/12-11/14/12) has been a wacky month for me. Its name has often been dubbed "Mar Cheshvan" (or "Bitter Cheshvan) is because its lack of holidays or special mitzvot (commandments). Additionally, Cheshvan was when the Mabul (Noah's Flood) started and ended (one year later). I'd like to cover all the events of my "bitter" month, but I'll start a little earlier with Sukkos.
I had a dynamic time during the first days of Sukkos! I love the family I stayed by and had a very nice time. But y'know when you get those bad feelings? I had been sitting in the living room reading a book about the Jewish super-natural. One chapter of the book discussed life after death, and retold a few stories of people who came back to life after a prolonged clinical death. But, this book didn't read like a fairy-tale. Sitting on the couch, I read the story of an Israeli soldier who had died in a car accident on his way to reserve duty. The story should of been typical. It should of been a ghost-story to tell my friends when I got back. More than that, it should of been inconsequential or simply an easy read. But while reading this story (mind you, I had read approximately fifteen similar stories before) I started to cry. I had gotten to the part of the car accident when I got this flood of unexpected emotion and when I was about to get up to wipe my face, my body turned cold.
Before I stood up, I froze. I felt like I wasn't alone. In fact, I felt a presence next to me. Now before I continue, I hope you know I was reading this super-natural book because I thought it was just cool ghost stories. I believe in the after-life, reincarnation, heaven and the rest of the Jewish shebang. But, as far as ghosts and presence goes I'm not the medium-type. I'm sure they can come, but I doubt they do it for fun. I also think it's weird and creepy and I don't like the idea of any of it (unless it's in the abstract). However, I was sitting on the couch and I felt the presence of my grandmother sitting next to me.
I don't really know how I knew this (I wasn't "seeing" anything... I just felt it). And I'll be the first to admit, I don't like admitting it one bit. But once I thought my Bubby was sitting next to me, my unexpected tears from the story of the car accident became a flood. I ran to the bathroom, cleaned up, and came back to the living room, but before I sat back down I read tehillim to make me feel better (and I'll admit, I don't typically do this either). Once I collected myself, I sat down and continued reading. I finished the story of this solider recounting his judgement in Heaven's courts and how he got a chance to come back. When he woke up disoriented in his hospital bed, his sister wrote down everything he had said and that was what made it into this book. I started to feel a little calmer wondering if I had imagined the entire events from before (me randomly starting to cry when hearing about the car accident then feeling my Bubby's presence) and shrugged it off. As the sunset, I debated if I should drive home that night. For some reason, I had a bad feeling.
I got in the car, despite my bad gut-feeling. And as my mind started to wander, I realized my feeling may be a real threat and started to pay close attention to the car in front of me. Oh man, I was too close! So I eased up in the gas and got about five car lengths behind it; after all it was a rainy/foggy night. Then, while going under a light, I saw the car go forward, the light go yellow, and the car slam on the brakes. Following suit, I break hard, surprised by the sudden stop. Unnervingly, though, my brakes don't get traction on the wet ground and I realize I'm going to hit the car in front of me. I see the car in the lane right of me is not slowing down, so I veer left to avoid a full-on crash. Unluckily, the shoulder wasn't big enough so my front right of the car went into their car pushing them into the intersection. CRAP!
Well, it turns out the person I hit didn't have insurance, adding insult to injury. And my poor car was totaled. However, I was okay and the couple driving in front of me were fine. It was then I realized if I hadn't had such a bad feeling about driving this night, I would have probably been too close and gone straight through their car. I had an angel watching me- that's for sure.
A week or so later, I am back to my day to day schedule (no car) and I decide to come down early for a visit. I also had to go to court for the ticket the cop gave me for "careless driving" (... the irony hurt). But, coming down days before my court case, was due to the FIRE that occurred in my apartment. Yeup, add insult to injury- my apartment's boiler decided to combust, leaving the basement nice and smokey smelling. After the entire Brooklyn fire department left, I decided to go home and just take a break. I head on down to Jersey and a nice HURRICANE decided to great me (thank you Sandy). I got stuck in Jersey for two weeks!!! I had a fun time with my friends, but I was missing out on school, my college started THAT week (good timing, eh?), and on top of it all, it was dark and very cold. So cold in fact, a Nor'easter came and blanketed the down trees and power lines with snow. Oh, and my court case was canceled.
All in all I'm grateful for everything I have... but boy, did I have a bitter Cheshvan.
I had a dynamic time during the first days of Sukkos! I love the family I stayed by and had a very nice time. But y'know when you get those bad feelings? I had been sitting in the living room reading a book about the Jewish super-natural. One chapter of the book discussed life after death, and retold a few stories of people who came back to life after a prolonged clinical death. But, this book didn't read like a fairy-tale. Sitting on the couch, I read the story of an Israeli soldier who had died in a car accident on his way to reserve duty. The story should of been typical. It should of been a ghost-story to tell my friends when I got back. More than that, it should of been inconsequential or simply an easy read. But while reading this story (mind you, I had read approximately fifteen similar stories before) I started to cry. I had gotten to the part of the car accident when I got this flood of unexpected emotion and when I was about to get up to wipe my face, my body turned cold.
Before I stood up, I froze. I felt like I wasn't alone. In fact, I felt a presence next to me. Now before I continue, I hope you know I was reading this super-natural book because I thought it was just cool ghost stories. I believe in the after-life, reincarnation, heaven and the rest of the Jewish shebang. But, as far as ghosts and presence goes I'm not the medium-type. I'm sure they can come, but I doubt they do it for fun. I also think it's weird and creepy and I don't like the idea of any of it (unless it's in the abstract). However, I was sitting on the couch and I felt the presence of my grandmother sitting next to me.
I don't really know how I knew this (I wasn't "seeing" anything... I just felt it). And I'll be the first to admit, I don't like admitting it one bit. But once I thought my Bubby was sitting next to me, my unexpected tears from the story of the car accident became a flood. I ran to the bathroom, cleaned up, and came back to the living room, but before I sat back down I read tehillim to make me feel better (and I'll admit, I don't typically do this either). Once I collected myself, I sat down and continued reading. I finished the story of this solider recounting his judgement in Heaven's courts and how he got a chance to come back. When he woke up disoriented in his hospital bed, his sister wrote down everything he had said and that was what made it into this book. I started to feel a little calmer wondering if I had imagined the entire events from before (me randomly starting to cry when hearing about the car accident then feeling my Bubby's presence) and shrugged it off. As the sunset, I debated if I should drive home that night. For some reason, I had a bad feeling.
I got in the car, despite my bad gut-feeling. And as my mind started to wander, I realized my feeling may be a real threat and started to pay close attention to the car in front of me. Oh man, I was too close! So I eased up in the gas and got about five car lengths behind it; after all it was a rainy/foggy night. Then, while going under a light, I saw the car go forward, the light go yellow, and the car slam on the brakes. Following suit, I break hard, surprised by the sudden stop. Unnervingly, though, my brakes don't get traction on the wet ground and I realize I'm going to hit the car in front of me. I see the car in the lane right of me is not slowing down, so I veer left to avoid a full-on crash. Unluckily, the shoulder wasn't big enough so my front right of the car went into their car pushing them into the intersection. CRAP!
Well, it turns out the person I hit didn't have insurance, adding insult to injury. And my poor car was totaled. However, I was okay and the couple driving in front of me were fine. It was then I realized if I hadn't had such a bad feeling about driving this night, I would have probably been too close and gone straight through their car. I had an angel watching me- that's for sure.
A week or so later, I am back to my day to day schedule (no car) and I decide to come down early for a visit. I also had to go to court for the ticket the cop gave me for "careless driving" (... the irony hurt). But, coming down days before my court case, was due to the FIRE that occurred in my apartment. Yeup, add insult to injury- my apartment's boiler decided to combust, leaving the basement nice and smokey smelling. After the entire Brooklyn fire department left, I decided to go home and just take a break. I head on down to Jersey and a nice HURRICANE decided to great me (thank you Sandy). I got stuck in Jersey for two weeks!!! I had a fun time with my friends, but I was missing out on school, my college started THAT week (good timing, eh?), and on top of it all, it was dark and very cold. So cold in fact, a Nor'easter came and blanketed the down trees and power lines with snow. Oh, and my court case was canceled.
All in all I'm grateful for everything I have... but boy, did I have a bitter Cheshvan.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Torah World-Wide
I formally apologize for ranting in my last post, but I'm still stupefied by people's chosen ignorance and outright bias. Moving forward, I have one of the most interesting topics in the world to discuss: Torah.
Torah has been copied and transmitted for two thousand years and not a letter has been written in error (the Dead Sea Scrolls help historically collaborate that fact). From Israel to China and Europe to Africa, Torah is the same world-wide. But one thing I have been noticing in seminary, is that it is not taught and learned the same world-wide.
I have been having trouble in seminary this year and not in the typical way. When learning Torah in Israel, I breathed it in. I absorbed it through the air, through the land, through classes, teachers, and friends. I absorbed it at an exorbitant pace. But here in America, it is not the same. It feels like it has become a book. Not a way of life. And I have been having trouble adjusting to the differences in learning.
I love my classes and teachers, but in no way is it comparable to the learning in Eretz Yisroel (Jerusalem, nonetheless). Before coming to America, people had warned me that an hour of Torah learning in Israel is equivalent to studying a day in America; that a day of studying Torah in Israel is equivalent to a week; that a week of studying in Israel is a month of study in America. And how right they were!
Luckily, I feel that I am in the best seminary in America (Ateres Naava). The students are incredible (and incredibly diverse), the teachers are phenomenal, and the classes are engaging. While the learning is not as easy and as encompassing, I'm happy with the choice to continue my Jewish education and bizrat Hashem it will never end.
Torah has been copied and transmitted for two thousand years and not a letter has been written in error (the Dead Sea Scrolls help historically collaborate that fact). From Israel to China and Europe to Africa, Torah is the same world-wide. But one thing I have been noticing in seminary, is that it is not taught and learned the same world-wide.
I have been having trouble in seminary this year and not in the typical way. When learning Torah in Israel, I breathed it in. I absorbed it through the air, through the land, through classes, teachers, and friends. I absorbed it at an exorbitant pace. But here in America, it is not the same. It feels like it has become a book. Not a way of life. And I have been having trouble adjusting to the differences in learning.
I love my classes and teachers, but in no way is it comparable to the learning in Eretz Yisroel (Jerusalem, nonetheless). Before coming to America, people had warned me that an hour of Torah learning in Israel is equivalent to studying a day in America; that a day of studying Torah in Israel is equivalent to a week; that a week of studying in Israel is a month of study in America. And how right they were!
Luckily, I feel that I am in the best seminary in America (Ateres Naava). The students are incredible (and incredibly diverse), the teachers are phenomenal, and the classes are engaging. While the learning is not as easy and as encompassing, I'm happy with the choice to continue my Jewish education and bizrat Hashem it will never end.
She's of the Brainwashed and Backwards
(Warning: this is a rant of the worst kind. Beware if you are easily offended.)
When will the American youth realize they have been indoctrinated more than any jihadist? When will they wake up from their perpetual sleep and realize they haven't been told the truth? When will they figure out their answers to life were misled by asking the wrong question? Or worse yet, not asking any questions at all!!!
I am angrier than any metal band screaming about injustice into the microphone. I am angrier than protestors out in the rain. I am so furious I feel my heart racing, wanting to implode.
I am of the ones who have washed my brain, clean. And if backwards means opposite of where this generation is going, count me in!
I am so sick of people calling me brainwashed, as if they haven't ascribed to the biggest farce of them all: the 'american machine.' Even the rebels have a box of their own.
Democracy? Why is it the best form of government? Look at the Arab Middle East- totalitarianism was working much better.
Capitalism? Why is it the best economic system? There are people dying from hunger in the wealthiest countries!
Feminism? Who said men were the ideal? Maybe they should emulate women- wear skirts and be expressive! That will show you your lopsided equality!
Am I the only one that thinks all these "isms" are being perverted and worshipped like gods?!
Even Judaism has gone into the wild, we are no longer a UNITED NATION and instead a DIVIDED RELIGION. Who gave YOU the right to change our Torah, pervert it and preach it?! And I'm NOT talking about the Christians and Muslims...
I'm furious at the generations who refused to wake up and ask questions. Why are you no longer fighting for truth? When did comfort and connivence become placebos?
I'm aggravated because if I see one more post insinuating Orthodox Jews are backwards, brainwashed, and archaic, I'll go postal.
When did complacency become a placebo for the truth?
When did complacency become a placebo for the truth?
When did our youth stop to ask if what they are being taught is right?
When will America realize they have been indoctrinated?
When will they wake up and stand up?
When will they figure out their answers to life were misled by asking the wrong question?
....Or worse yet, not asking any questions at all!!!
I am of the ones who have washed my brain, clean. And if backwards means opposite of where this generation is going, count me in!
gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... I'm losing sleep over this... I'm going into Kiruv
Monday, September 24, 2012
Welcome Home
Some artwork later, and I'm still not able to pound out my artistic rendition of Yom Kippur. Every holiday comes new and inspiring lessons, resulting in my sketch pad being filled with pictures depicting how I see the up-coming holiday. But for this Yom Kippur, I can't find myself with an idea. I guess I have some Aish articles to read, haha. But, I'll share the most inspiring thing I have heard so far:
Before Rosh Hashana (the Jewish New Year) the principal of my seminary gave a lecture on what the holidays in Elul (the Jewish month) mean in the form of an allegory. He said, "Imagine you and your mother got into a terrible argument...
"After the argument you storm out of the house in a burst of fury, and unlike all the other times- you vow not to speak to her again. And unlike all the other times, you keep your vow of silence and find that five/ten years down the road you haven't spoken. In this time, you get married and have a few good kids and one day you wake up and realize where your mother was coming from, now that you find yourself in her position. You get up the nerve and you call her.
"Girl's," he broke the allegory, "what are the first two word's you'd say?" After someone suggested I'm sorry, he continued: "I'm sorry? You haven't talked to her in five/ten years and you think you going to bring up what the argument was to rehash old wounds in the first two words?!
"You would dial her number and wait anxiously as the dial tone goes bring, bring, bring. And when you hear hello, who is this from your mother's voice your going to say, "Hi mom." Once you say these first two words, you will both start bawling.
"So this is what Rosh Hashana is- it's "Hi mom." Except in this instance it's your parent in heaven, Hashem. And on Rosh Hashana we tell Hashem, Hi, I want a relationship. But first you pick up the phone with a clean slate and with the past behind you.
"And then, maybe after an extended period of time of being on your best behavior, you may finally bring up the original argument and apologize for whatever it is that made you storm out of your parent's lives. This is the idea of Yom Kippur, where we tell Gd that we are sorry and that we're going to do it better this time." And the Rabbi paused, "Even if it's only small baby steps."
This imagery of arguing with your actual parents doesn't escape most teenagers, like myself. So after listening to the Rabbi's allegory, I had a new appreciation for the holidays where I may have not before. Guilt-ridden and nervous for Judgement Day, most people (even religious Jew, even Jews who had been religious all their life) come to Gd in fear thinking that they will be smote on the spot for every sin they have committed over the year (and from my bucket-list, that's a whole lot!). Instead I think I'm prepared for Yom Kippur in a new and more enlightening way than in past years. In the past, I figured Yom Kippur was the penance for being a non-Jewish Jew and that once the fasting and 8-hour service were over I had paid my dues. Now, it has become less torturous and more meaningful, in that instead of looking at it as a day of teshuva (most often translated as repentance), I look at it as a day of true teshuva (lit. "returning" to an estranged parent, which through error, I had lost contact).
I hope if you celebrate Elul (the month of teshuva [read: returning]), and Rosh Hashana, and Yom Kippur, you get back on the right path and find yourself starting with a brand new slate for your brand new year. But before I say my parting words, I'd like to mention the best part of this month. At the end of Elul there is another holiday called Sukkos (the holiday of Booths). We set up booths (you guessed it!) and this symbolized Gd protecting us in the desert as we left slavery in Mitzrayim (Egypt). But fitting in with the allegory from before, another teacher had mentioned today a fitting fact. In order to have a "kosher sukkah" (a proper booth), it needs to have two complete walls and a third of at least a hand-breath size. If you draw it out, it looks like a bent arm. "Sort of like," my teacher mentioned, "how a mother cradles her baby in her arms." On Sukkos, Hashem is telling you, "come home." And like most parents... I don't think he minds how long it's been since you've been back last.
Before Rosh Hashana (the Jewish New Year) the principal of my seminary gave a lecture on what the holidays in Elul (the Jewish month) mean in the form of an allegory. He said, "Imagine you and your mother got into a terrible argument...
"After the argument you storm out of the house in a burst of fury, and unlike all the other times- you vow not to speak to her again. And unlike all the other times, you keep your vow of silence and find that five/ten years down the road you haven't spoken. In this time, you get married and have a few good kids and one day you wake up and realize where your mother was coming from, now that you find yourself in her position. You get up the nerve and you call her.
"Girl's," he broke the allegory, "what are the first two word's you'd say?" After someone suggested I'm sorry, he continued: "I'm sorry? You haven't talked to her in five/ten years and you think you going to bring up what the argument was to rehash old wounds in the first two words?!
"You would dial her number and wait anxiously as the dial tone goes bring, bring, bring. And when you hear hello, who is this from your mother's voice your going to say, "Hi mom." Once you say these first two words, you will both start bawling.
"So this is what Rosh Hashana is- it's "Hi mom." Except in this instance it's your parent in heaven, Hashem. And on Rosh Hashana we tell Hashem, Hi, I want a relationship. But first you pick up the phone with a clean slate and with the past behind you.
"And then, maybe after an extended period of time of being on your best behavior, you may finally bring up the original argument and apologize for whatever it is that made you storm out of your parent's lives. This is the idea of Yom Kippur, where we tell Gd that we are sorry and that we're going to do it better this time." And the Rabbi paused, "Even if it's only small baby steps."
This imagery of arguing with your actual parents doesn't escape most teenagers, like myself. So after listening to the Rabbi's allegory, I had a new appreciation for the holidays where I may have not before. Guilt-ridden and nervous for Judgement Day, most people (even religious Jew, even Jews who had been religious all their life) come to Gd in fear thinking that they will be smote on the spot for every sin they have committed over the year (and from my bucket-list, that's a whole lot!). Instead I think I'm prepared for Yom Kippur in a new and more enlightening way than in past years. In the past, I figured Yom Kippur was the penance for being a non-Jewish Jew and that once the fasting and 8-hour service were over I had paid my dues. Now, it has become less torturous and more meaningful, in that instead of looking at it as a day of teshuva (most often translated as repentance), I look at it as a day of true teshuva (lit. "returning" to an estranged parent, which through error, I had lost contact).
I hope if you celebrate Elul (the month of teshuva [read: returning]), and Rosh Hashana, and Yom Kippur, you get back on the right path and find yourself starting with a brand new slate for your brand new year. But before I say my parting words, I'd like to mention the best part of this month. At the end of Elul there is another holiday called Sukkos (the holiday of Booths). We set up booths (you guessed it!) and this symbolized Gd protecting us in the desert as we left slavery in Mitzrayim (Egypt). But fitting in with the allegory from before, another teacher had mentioned today a fitting fact. In order to have a "kosher sukkah" (a proper booth), it needs to have two complete walls and a third of at least a hand-breath size. If you draw it out, it looks like a bent arm. "Sort of like," my teacher mentioned, "how a mother cradles her baby in her arms." On Sukkos, Hashem is telling you, "come home." And like most parents... I don't think he minds how long it's been since you've been back last.
May this New Year find you peace. May this Yom Kippur find you peace of mind. And may this Sukkos fill you with Shalom Bais (peace of the home).
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Our Family Tree
School is progressing, and I have to say, I couldn't be happier with my learning. As we get deeper into the sefer (book) Misillas Yesharim (or Path of the Just, written by Rav Luzzatto) I find myself being energized by the school's ongoing theme of (intentional or not) character growth.
All the Judaic classes deal with hashkafa (Jewish points of view), halacha (Jewish law), mussar (things we know but often overlook), and seferim (judaic books) which ALL are about how to build yourself as an individual. Not so bad with the upcoming New Year, right? But, during the first class of Derech Hashem (The Way of Gd) , the teacher, who is fantastic, introduced the author and the background of the book. This is the class that sparked my intrigue this entire week.
Being Jewish is a nice title or identity, but the root of it is ancestral that traced back to Adam and Chava (Eve). If we follow the line, we get to Noach (and his flood) ten generations later. Ten after that, Avraham (Abraham) comes into the picture. Then his son, Yitzhok (Isaac), and grandson, Yaakov (Jacob). Yaakov and his twelve sons [Yosef (Joseph) and his multi-coloured coat anyone?] entered the land of Mizrayim (Eqypt). After a few hundred years of slavery we come to Moshe (Moses) and his siblings, Aaron and Miriam. Moshe and approximately three million of us accepted the Torah from Gd at the mass revelation on Mt. Sinai. Moshe's deciple, Yeheshua (Joshua), led us in battle where we became reestablished in the land of Israel and set up the monarchy, leading to King David. Post King David, we had the prophets and then we entered the Rabbinic era, in which we find ourselves today. So why is this short history lesson relevant?
As the Rabbi finished his introduction to Derech Hashem and the time period that it was written in (1700's, if you were curious), he proceeded to pull out a rolled up poser. Hmm, I thought curiously to myself. Being invested in my Judaic studies has spilled over to my artwork. During class, I often find my notes taking forms of abstract sketches summarizing the lesson. So, seeing this rolled up poster had me wondering what beautiful work was about to be displayed. And that's when my heart flooded with pure... glorious.... jealousy.
It was such a deep-seated jealousy that took hold of my heart and crushed it. Holding back tears that were welling up in the corner of my eyes, I saw the most stunning picture I have ever seen. The paper was old and crumbled at the corners. Obviously a photocopy of the original piece of work. And the Rabbi proceeded to explain what, exactly, he was holding.
This paper was, in fact, a smaller replica of a large chalk-board sized family tree. This family tree was of my Rabbi's. The last name on it was his great-grand father. And who was the first name? Adam. After Adam, the names got unbearably small- leaving room for each mother and child to be written in until my Rabbi's great-grandfather finished the page. The exquisite way it was made! The fantastic artistry it took! And the most heartbreaking thing of all? The unbroken line of father and mother to child. Each line of names winding down the page had our greatest prophets and talmudic sages. The tree extended to the man holding up that very same piece of paper- my teacher. And I had to hold back tears of a green heart.
My Rabbi explained how pre-World War II, his family had collected all the records of his ancestry and commissioned a very talented artist to make it, in which that artist did with immaculate precision. Names that appeared larger, were notable Jewish figures, and the lines falling down the page accounted for generations of father's teaching their son's Torah, and mother's teaching their daughter's halacha. Something, my family, decided to stop about four generations ago.
As the Rabbi spoke on about the unbroken chain- I couldn't help uncomfortably seething and writhing in my chair with a unique anguish I had never before experienced. As a proud Baalas Teshuvah (returnee to observant religion) I have never had any regrets about my decision to become religious. I was proud for being a rebel to my society- breaking every social norm and deconstructing every philosophical farce in order to find truth and Torah and the way of my nation. I was putting myself through uncomfortable situations to do what I thought was right- and I am so proud of myself for having the wearwithall to continue on my quest for emes. But it never dawned on me that my fight may have been avoided. Of course I sometimes wish I grew up religious, but I never once wished it as a plausible existence. It is just one of those things that you can't change and have to appreciate for what it was. But here, my Rabbi stood in front of me for being proud of NOT having to fight his way back to Torah. Instead, he was showing us that he got the most beautiful gift, Torah, from his parents. His parents gave him the most beautiful gift in the world, like their parents gave to them. This happened a thousand times, or more, back to when we stood at Mount Sinai and received it from our Father, the creator, Hashem.
I sat in class looking at this map of heritage. And it wasn't the beautiful art that made me jealous. It wasn't the fact that I hadn't created the piece of art or was a name within it. What tore me up was that the common factor of passing Torah from father to son was absent in my family tree. To see proof that Adam and Chava actually existed via their children and their children's children was nice. But to realize that this- this beautiful gift... my parents decided not to give me. I had to go to my distant cousins and learn what their parents taught them. It made me want to cry as I sat in class full of Beis Yaakov girls who got it from their ima's and abba's, tatti's and mommy's.
But as the expression goes, "The apple doesn't fall [too] far from the tree." And only three or four generations after Torah was lost in my family, my older brother uncovered it and dusted it off. And a little while later, I found it too. Maybe we didn't get the Torah directly from our parents... but they instilled in us a love for Judaism that helped lead us back. And here is where I make the corny segway back into my Derech Hashem class: In my Derech Hashem class I found myself literally looking at the Tree of Life.
With this family tree in front of me I thought about Torah, family, and trees. Not to mention apples and honey (after all the Jewish New Year, Rosh HaShana, is this Monday). And I thought about all the character traits I'm working on to enhance myself for the upcoming year. And I thought about the person I'm becoming and where I came from. And as I'm thinking about these things, my teacher announced that class was ending but added, "This is your family tree, too. We are all connected and every girl who asks me to find out about their ancestry has a family member on this page, even some just a few generations ago. So after Rosh HaShana you can find out. " And that's when my heart lightened up and I realized this is going to be a very good year.
All the Judaic classes deal with hashkafa (Jewish points of view), halacha (Jewish law), mussar (things we know but often overlook), and seferim (judaic books) which ALL are about how to build yourself as an individual. Not so bad with the upcoming New Year, right? But, during the first class of Derech Hashem (The Way of Gd) , the teacher, who is fantastic, introduced the author and the background of the book. This is the class that sparked my intrigue this entire week.
Being Jewish is a nice title or identity, but the root of it is ancestral that traced back to Adam and Chava (Eve). If we follow the line, we get to Noach (and his flood) ten generations later. Ten after that, Avraham (Abraham) comes into the picture. Then his son, Yitzhok (Isaac), and grandson, Yaakov (Jacob). Yaakov and his twelve sons [Yosef (Joseph) and his multi-coloured coat anyone?] entered the land of Mizrayim (Eqypt). After a few hundred years of slavery we come to Moshe (Moses) and his siblings, Aaron and Miriam. Moshe and approximately three million of us accepted the Torah from Gd at the mass revelation on Mt. Sinai. Moshe's deciple, Yeheshua (Joshua), led us in battle where we became reestablished in the land of Israel and set up the monarchy, leading to King David. Post King David, we had the prophets and then we entered the Rabbinic era, in which we find ourselves today. So why is this short history lesson relevant?
As the Rabbi finished his introduction to Derech Hashem and the time period that it was written in (1700's, if you were curious), he proceeded to pull out a rolled up poser. Hmm, I thought curiously to myself. Being invested in my Judaic studies has spilled over to my artwork. During class, I often find my notes taking forms of abstract sketches summarizing the lesson. So, seeing this rolled up poster had me wondering what beautiful work was about to be displayed. And that's when my heart flooded with pure... glorious.... jealousy.
It was such a deep-seated jealousy that took hold of my heart and crushed it. Holding back tears that were welling up in the corner of my eyes, I saw the most stunning picture I have ever seen. The paper was old and crumbled at the corners. Obviously a photocopy of the original piece of work. And the Rabbi proceeded to explain what, exactly, he was holding.
This paper was, in fact, a smaller replica of a large chalk-board sized family tree. This family tree was of my Rabbi's. The last name on it was his great-grand father. And who was the first name? Adam. After Adam, the names got unbearably small- leaving room for each mother and child to be written in until my Rabbi's great-grandfather finished the page. The exquisite way it was made! The fantastic artistry it took! And the most heartbreaking thing of all? The unbroken line of father and mother to child. Each line of names winding down the page had our greatest prophets and talmudic sages. The tree extended to the man holding up that very same piece of paper- my teacher. And I had to hold back tears of a green heart.
My Rabbi explained how pre-World War II, his family had collected all the records of his ancestry and commissioned a very talented artist to make it, in which that artist did with immaculate precision. Names that appeared larger, were notable Jewish figures, and the lines falling down the page accounted for generations of father's teaching their son's Torah, and mother's teaching their daughter's halacha. Something, my family, decided to stop about four generations ago.
As the Rabbi spoke on about the unbroken chain- I couldn't help uncomfortably seething and writhing in my chair with a unique anguish I had never before experienced. As a proud Baalas Teshuvah (returnee to observant religion) I have never had any regrets about my decision to become religious. I was proud for being a rebel to my society- breaking every social norm and deconstructing every philosophical farce in order to find truth and Torah and the way of my nation. I was putting myself through uncomfortable situations to do what I thought was right- and I am so proud of myself for having the wearwithall to continue on my quest for emes. But it never dawned on me that my fight may have been avoided. Of course I sometimes wish I grew up religious, but I never once wished it as a plausible existence. It is just one of those things that you can't change and have to appreciate for what it was. But here, my Rabbi stood in front of me for being proud of NOT having to fight his way back to Torah. Instead, he was showing us that he got the most beautiful gift, Torah, from his parents. His parents gave him the most beautiful gift in the world, like their parents gave to them. This happened a thousand times, or more, back to when we stood at Mount Sinai and received it from our Father, the creator, Hashem.
I sat in class looking at this map of heritage. And it wasn't the beautiful art that made me jealous. It wasn't the fact that I hadn't created the piece of art or was a name within it. What tore me up was that the common factor of passing Torah from father to son was absent in my family tree. To see proof that Adam and Chava actually existed via their children and their children's children was nice. But to realize that this- this beautiful gift... my parents decided not to give me. I had to go to my distant cousins and learn what their parents taught them. It made me want to cry as I sat in class full of Beis Yaakov girls who got it from their ima's and abba's, tatti's and mommy's.
But as the expression goes, "The apple doesn't fall [too] far from the tree." And only three or four generations after Torah was lost in my family, my older brother uncovered it and dusted it off. And a little while later, I found it too. Maybe we didn't get the Torah directly from our parents... but they instilled in us a love for Judaism that helped lead us back. And here is where I make the corny segway back into my Derech Hashem class: In my Derech Hashem class I found myself literally looking at the Tree of Life.
With this family tree in front of me I thought about Torah, family, and trees. Not to mention apples and honey (after all the Jewish New Year, Rosh HaShana, is this Monday). And I thought about all the character traits I'm working on to enhance myself for the upcoming year. And I thought about the person I'm becoming and where I came from. And as I'm thinking about these things, my teacher announced that class was ending but added, "This is your family tree, too. We are all connected and every girl who asks me to find out about their ancestry has a family member on this page, even some just a few generations ago. So after Rosh HaShana you can find out. " And that's when my heart lightened up and I realized this is going to be a very good year.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Getting Started
Settling into my Brooklyn apartment wasn't so time-consuming or challenging. In fact, I could make my home anywhere, as long as you give me a place to sleep and a few minutes to organize my thoughts. But, I have found it challenging to occupy my spare time. I plan on signing up at a pool to swim before class and brought a guitar to figure out after school. But with the weather being kind of muggy (warm, sticky, and grey) going for exploratory walks have been postponed. Even doing activities inside are beginning to become a drag with a new world lurking outside.
Otherwise, my optimism is running high. Yesterday classes began. I liked the morning Judaic courses, but I decided to switch into another level because I wanted more text based learning. Being BT (ba'al teshuva aka: becoming religious) I have managed to absorb all these high-level, high-thinking ideas and hashkafa (veiws), as well a slew of other religious concepts but skipped a lot of the basics. Most notably, chumash (Torah with commentary) and major works such as Derech Hashem ("The way of Gd") and Orchot Tzadikim ("Path of the Righteous"). So in the other level I'll find myself learning these works. I'm actually really excited to get started.
In the afternoon, we have college classes- this month a speech class, which has proven to be extremely interesting by infusing religious and secular studies, is being given. And after the Jewish holidays, we start out courses online. After getting the four-one-one on all the classes and leveling, I feel much more at ease... but speaking about class I got to run (I always leave time for getting lost- it proved helpful yesterday!).
Otherwise, my optimism is running high. Yesterday classes began. I liked the morning Judaic courses, but I decided to switch into another level because I wanted more text based learning. Being BT (ba'al teshuva aka: becoming religious) I have managed to absorb all these high-level, high-thinking ideas and hashkafa (veiws), as well a slew of other religious concepts but skipped a lot of the basics. Most notably, chumash (Torah with commentary) and major works such as Derech Hashem ("The way of Gd") and Orchot Tzadikim ("Path of the Righteous"). So in the other level I'll find myself learning these works. I'm actually really excited to get started.
In the afternoon, we have college classes- this month a speech class, which has proven to be extremely interesting by infusing religious and secular studies, is being given. And after the Jewish holidays, we start out courses online. After getting the four-one-one on all the classes and leveling, I feel much more at ease... but speaking about class I got to run (I always leave time for getting lost- it proved helpful yesterday!).
Monday, September 3, 2012
College?
After a short, short summer spending time with friends and working as a private teacher (and home organizer) I'm starting school tomorrow. I got accepted to a shana bet (second year) program at Ateres Naava, where I'll continue my Jewish studies, while attending Bellevue University online, getting my Bachelors of Science in behavioral sciences.
After long arguments with my 'rents, I am surprised I ended up in college this year (in America, nonetheless). But, after settling into my Brooklyn apartment today, I am happy with my decision. I live in a frum neighborhood, enjoying the proximity to Manhattan and home. Plus, my apartment is close to the subway so I have unlimited access to where ever my heart desires. Not bad, eh? However, I do miss being in the heart of the universe- Jerusalem.
I know this year will probably bring great things, and despite being nervous, I'm excited to get started. And looking back at the journey that started in EIE Aviv '09, I can't believe where I am and who I have become. But one thing hasn't changed one bit: Homework... blech.
After long arguments with my 'rents, I am surprised I ended up in college this year (in America, nonetheless). But, after settling into my Brooklyn apartment today, I am happy with my decision. I live in a frum neighborhood, enjoying the proximity to Manhattan and home. Plus, my apartment is close to the subway so I have unlimited access to where ever my heart desires. Not bad, eh? However, I do miss being in the heart of the universe- Jerusalem.
I know this year will probably bring great things, and despite being nervous, I'm excited to get started. And looking back at the journey that started in EIE Aviv '09, I can't believe where I am and who I have become. But one thing hasn't changed one bit: Homework... blech.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)