An Orthodox Shabbat

Before this winter's alternative break trip, the most orthodox Jewish experiences I'd had were a couple of nights at the Chabad House on campus. Those were a good time but I didn't really participate in much, besides the eating. My friends and I would get into our own conversations and tune out a lot. When Shabbat arrived last week, all of us were clean and pretty by candle lighting time. We went to the reform synagogue (which I didn't like very much because it reminded me of church... not important) in town then came back to the rabbi's house for a traditional shabbat dinner. We began by singing Shalom Aleichem (except we skipped the last verse because of the rabbi's personal minhag (custom)), and then we all lined up for the ritual washing of hands before a meal. Since there is no talking allowed between that blessing and eating, we all hummed and dummed a niggun (melody that has no words) while we waited for everyone to finish. After Motzi and Kiddush we could eat, drink, and talk again and we had a lovely Shabbat dinner. There were about 16 people there so it was a grand time. We talked in smaller groups and all across the table with the conversation interspersed with songs. There's something about the Shabbat table that lets you get to know people in a unique way.

After dinner ended, we cleaned up a little. Most of us lingered in the house either starting up new conversations or continuing ones from dinner. Two of my friends from the trip and I got into a very interesting conversation with the rabbi. I know the relationships between the different movements in Judaism are complicated and I don't presume to judge, but occasionally I and my Reform friends will get the sense that the Orthodox don't think their (Reform Jews) Judaism is as good or as valid. So, I think my two friends that night were a little guarded at first when talking to the rabbi. It's understandable. But about three minutes into the conversation the walls came down because the rabbi's concern was whether Reform Judaism helped them connect to G-d. He is cool with the different kinds of Jews and Judaism there are.

What I loved most about talking to this rabbi was that he talked about G-d in mathematical terms. He has some sort of math undergrad degree so he knows his stuff. The thing he said that is missing from secular or humanist ethics is the value of human life. Since we are all made in the image of G-d and G-d is infinite, we also are infinite. Said mathematically, every subset of an infinite set is also infinite. So if each of us is a subset of G-d (hence the made in the image of) then each of us is a subset of infinity. Therefore, each of us is "infinite." The value of a human life can not be measured. This sentiment is conveyed in the Talmud but not by this mathematical proof. The reason I had such a hard time understanding G-d in high school was because I couldn't figure out Christianity and math at the same time. This rabbi's proof is a perfect example of the kind of thinking I went through to get to where I am in my understanding/belief in G-d.

Another great part of our conversation with the rabbi was how he talked to me. Earlier in the day he learned for the first time all week that I'm not Jewish. He asked me a simple yet complicated question. "What's your journey?" he said, "How did you go from a Catholic childhood to having dinner in the Orthodox rabbi's house?" He just wanted to talk to these young people about life, G-d, Torah, and Judaism, including me. I never felt included like that by the rabbis at school. I gave him a quick overview of basically this entire blog. And he asked us all how Hillel and Judaism affect each of us. The best answer I could give was that I love Friday night services because I can pray on a regular basis in a safe space. When I went to church, for my whole life, I prayed to G-d, just G-d, and everyone around me was praying to Jesus. I knew it and I felt kind of like a fraud. I wasn't doing what you're supposed to at church. But now when I go to Hillel, I'm doing the same thing as everyone else, of course in my own way. As with everything else, the rabbi said if it makes you a better person and connects you to G-d, then it's doing its job.

One final nugget of inspiration I took away was his view of Torah. He said that what separates him from other Orthodox Jews, particularly the ultra-orthodox, is that he doesn't just think that Jews have something to teach the world about Torah, he thinks that the world has something to teach Jews about Torah.

When we closed the night, the rabbi thanked us for sitting with him and talking to him about G-d because not many people are willing to do that. I thanked him for doing the same. The next morning at services, he gave me something no one else has been able to: permission to kiss the Torah. None of my friends knew if a non-Jew was allowed and I wasn't about to disrespect the Torah by doing it anyways. If an Orthodox rabbi says it's OK, then it must be OK. He has no idea that he'd truly given me the most amazing and memorable Shabbats, probably of my whole life. I know I'll never forget any of it.