An Accounting of My Soul: 10Q Edition

The High Holidays are upon us. While some Jews might dread this time of year, what with having to account for your actions in the last year, lots of time in shul, and having to miss a lot of work or school, I AM SO EXCITED. I love the High Holidays. They're just so Jewish (duh?). I love honey and I love fall. Recalling what we've done in the last year and thinking about how to be a better person is a really good exercise for the soul. This is known as cheshbon ha'nefesh which literally means "accounting of the soul." What better way to start this than to review my 10Q responses from last year!

10Q is a project that sends you a question every day during the Days of Awe. You respond and then the answers go into a virtual lockbox for the next year. You don't have to be Jewish to participate by any means, but the calendar does run on the Hebrew calendar. I have two responses I want to share with you.

Day 4: 

Describe an event in the world that has impacted you this year. How? Why? 

Your Answer: 

The killing of Osama Bin Laden - I remember find out in a way through twitter. I didn't find out the details but I remember knowing something big happened and i turned on the news. And there they said it "Osama Bin Laden is dead." I called out [my roommate] into the living room and called my dad and told him to turn on the TV. It was such a momentous occasion. We called and texted all of our friends and family. Then we saw on facebook that people were jumping in mirror lake. We drove over to campus and got out and frolicked around with everyone. It was so exciting. 

Sometime in the next week, I was watching the news again. The anchor had on a priest, a rabbi, and an imam to discuss the death/killing of Bin Laden. I found my self strongly disagreeing with the priest but completely understanding the rabbi's point of view. The priest sad that Bin Laden wasn't evil...? He said just because he committed evil acts that he himself wasn't actually evil. The rabbi said, no! when you commit evil acts over and over, you are evil. You are your actions. Now that made sense. Also, the very next day after the event, two of my Catholic friends posted a quote from the vatican that no Christian rejoices at the death of a man, blah blah blah. These two had been at mirror lake celebrating the night before! so, 1. hypocrites and 2. Bin Laden was our enemy and killed our people. why can't we rejoice at his defeat? Well, I read several articles from rabbis that week that said just that. The rabbis said it was possible for us to simultaneously mourn the loss of a human life, G-d's creation, and celebrate the defeat of our enemy who sought to destroy us, just as G-d permitted the Israelites to celebrate the defeat of the Amonites/Egyptians(?) (but did not allow the angels to celebrate). 

This was an important time in realizing and understanding that my heart and my mind naturally disagreed with Christianity and naturally agreed with Judaism.

Wow. Intense... I think I've always had a Jewish perspective when it comes to thinking about actions, I just didn't know it until a couple years ago.  Human emotions are very complex and I think Judaism honors that much more than Christianity. Honestly, I hate doing the whole compare and contrast thing with the religions, but sometimes that is just what happens. I was happy and I celebrated with the rest of my country when Osama Bin Laden died. That was our natural reaction. We didn't stop to think about it. That's just how we felt. Judaism honors natural human inclination. But the next day we think about it a little more, and it is sad that a human life was lost. Our enemy is gone but so is part of G-d's creation. We can be sad and happy at the same time. Part of the reason we all celebrated was because a dark period in our nation's history ended with Bin Laden's death. We have every reason to celebrate. Certainly, terrorism has not come to an end, but a major leader in the movement can no longer lead or cause harm to us. So I think the celebration comes from the era dying not so much that individual person.

Today, I don't think I am conscious of "this is the Jewish perspective on X event." I think my perspective just naturally agrees with the Jewish one. Well, that's pretty easy when the Jewish perspective can be one of a hundred things. But you know what I mean.

Day 6: 

Describe one thing you'd like to achieve by this time next year. Why is this important to you? 

Your Answer: 

I want to know the prayer service. If I don't have a transliteration in front of me I want to still be able to participate. I also want to know the whole Hebrew alphabet, know number values, and several Hebrew words, both in prayer and in conversation. I hope to find a synagogue to go to when I don't go to Hillel, possibly a rabbi to convert me. Unsure of the specifics on that right now. 

I'd also like to take the GRE again and score much higher on the verbal. This means improving my vocabulary a great deal. 

I want to be working toward getting something published if not already by this time next year.

So, the only goals I achieved this year were my Jewish ones. Oy. I don't know if this is bad or good. Technically, I am working toward getting something published, but I've been working on it since March. Things keep getting in the way. I don't know if it will ever happen. I haven't even finished the article yet, so there is no publishing possibility in sight. I have no intentions of taking the GRE again. I've become completely disenfranchised from the concept of standardized testing.

I know the prayer service. In fact, at Hillel's summer shabbat in July, I was the one reminding everyone of the order of things, saying things like "Now we remain standing for the hatzi Kaddish." I didn't mean to memorize the Reform Hillel service; it just happened. I don't need a transliteration anymore because I can read Hebrew. I think I went above and beyond in achieving that goal. Well, maybe I originally meant that I wanted to memorize the service. I know the basic order but I truly think it's better not to memorize everything because then I am more engaged in the prayers. I have to think to participate.

If you've been reading my blog over the last month, you know that I found a synagogue and a rabbi to convert me. Check.

I am excited for the next 10 questions to be sent out, even though it can be difficult to answer some of them. Some of the questions and my responses are a bit to personal too share here. But Judaism gets personal.

Do you 10Q?

Acts of (Inter)Faith

I just finished reading Acts of Faith: The Story of an American Muslim, the Struggle for the Soul of a Generation by Eboo Patel. And I actually got to meet and hang out with him for a few hours last week end. He is so down to earth and one of the most inspiring people I've ever met. He founded the Interfaith Youth Core which exists on college campuses but also works with high schoolers and the basic idea is for kids of different faiths to do service projects together and have dialogue about it later. The dialogue of course revolves around their many faiths. Through out his book, Eboo shows how all religious traditions exemplify two things. One of which we always think about when we think religion, and one of which we never think when we think religion. 1) All religions consider themselves unique and the best in some way. Religious particularity, if you will. 2) All religions take interfaith relations into consideration. See, that second one throws you off guard. But he really shows in his book how cooperation can be reached if we work at it and that all religions espouse these things. We can respect each other and work together in harmony. Interfaith work is supposed to make you more committed to your own faith.

I loved reading this book and I find it so relevant to today's America/world. But at times, I found myself outside the story. He talks so much about finding his own roots and others finding their roots. When you study other religions, that should bring you closer to your own. He studied Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, and Catholicism which only led him to be a more committed Muslim in the end. If I had been able to get him alone for just five minutes this weekend (or if I had a real email address of his now) I would have asked him "How do converts fit into your idea of interfaith development?" He was so open and vulnerable with himself, that I wouldn't have been afraid to ask him. It was just everyone else around him all the time. I would have outed myself. We weren't really in a religious setting, but a leadership setting, so that wasn't a place I felt comfortable being myself (I should say my Jewish-ish self). I really would love to know his answers because the entire time I was reading those parts of his book I felt like he was telling me to go back to Catholicism. And I wanted to scream back, "But I CAN'T!" What if you can't? What if Jesus isn't the savior? What if the same reason you don't subscribe to Christianity is the same reason I don't want to? How do I fit into the interfaith movement then?

I'm wording it in a childish way, but it is a serious question for me. I very much believe that interfaith is the movement of our time and that we have a responsibility to learn how to coexist. How do converts fit into the interfaith movement? Often, I get remarks from Jews about my Christian background. They range from harmless jokes to a stab right through the center of my soul. They have no idea what it's like to feel responsible for children getting molested. So, no those jokes aren't funny. And no true Catholic supports those priests either, just as no Jew supports the rabbis who behave in the same way. I've dealt with the pain that I put on myself. I don't need others putting it on me. Part of my issue of being in the interfaith movement is the lack of converts to Judaism. We confuse people. People convert to Christianity and Islam all the time. It's totally normal. More than that, it's welcomed. But Jews, in general, don't know how to deal with converts. The fear then becomes how will born Jews react when they hear me discussing another religion. My sincerity is already being questioned. An interfaith discussion can't possibly help. But should I forego my comfort for the sake of interfaith cooperation?

To be honest, I've never really done anything interfaith but I am about to make my family interfaith. It's kind of ironic. I've studied other religions, but I don't think that counts as interfaith study. When I did that, I was looking for something. I was looking for myself in those religions, to see if I could fit. When I saw I didn't fit, I walked away. The only religion I have studied beyond that is Christianity. I have studied for classes, for the sake of my parents, for the sake of understanding where I come from, where I don't come from, where the world is headed, and for the sake of understanding history. But it's always a little uncomfortable for me. I wonder if I really could do the same for other religions. I'm guessing studying Islam or Hinduism wouldn't make me uncomfortable since I wasn't raised in either of them and don't resent them for anything. But a stranger question is, are converts (in Judaism) even allowed to be a part of the interfaith movement? Would a rabbi seriously approve of me partaking in interfaith activities, studying other religions and experiencing different rituals? He would probably tell me I have to wait until after I converted. My guess is, for the foreseeable future I am going to be kept out of the interfaith movement.

Welcome the Stranger

In case you haven't read it a zillion other times on other Jewish convert blogs, don't call someone a shiksa. Period. End of story. There's no arguing. It's offensive. It derives from the Yiddish word for dirty and is meant to slur non-Jewish women who are dating or could one day date  Jewish guys and thus produce a non Jewish children. These women pull men away from Judaism and the Jewish community. Therefore, they ruin the Jewish community. Well, it's 21st century America now so this concept isn't the same as it once was in Eastern Europe. But it's still an offense term. Don't use it.

A girl I spend a good deal of time with likes to use it a lot. She's not really my friend. She's friends of my friends and we also work on Holocaust Awareness stuff together. And she's a fairly offensive person in general so I'm not that surprised by it. What I am always surprised by is the number of other Jews who say nothing to her. I said something to a friend once, along the lines of "Why does she think that's OK?" "Because Jews say it all the time." Oh, really? And that makes it OK? If white people start saying the n-word a lot does that make it OK? Oh, wait, plenty still do, and guess what? Still not OK. It just blows my mind that my friends who would be equally offended at someone slurring a black person, a hispanic person, a Muslim, a Christian as if they themselves as Jews were slurred, are perfectly fine with someone slurring a non Jewish woman.

This same girl who likes the word shiksa a lot also made up a fun new way to describe me: a Jew groupie. "Mary's such a Jew groupie. Hahahahaha." Do you see me laughing? No. Do you see my friends laughing? Yes.

Let me explain. I love my Jewish friends. A whole freaking lot. I meet lots of Jews I like and Judaism is awesome. But. I. Am. Not. A. Jew. Groupie. Jews are fantastic in many, many ways. But I in no way intend to follow them around, bother them, ask for autographs, or throw my underwear at them. I will not faint if I touch a Jew and don't spend a great deal of time fantasizing about meeting Jews. Why? Because Jews are normal people, and if I want to be one, I can freaking be one. It's very demeaning to call someone who's working to become a Jew, a Jew groupie. I hang out with Jews because I like them. They're my friends. And I love Judaism a great deal. That does not give anyone the right to call me a groupie or be rude to me because they're a Jew and I'm not.

There is a reason it's a mitzvah to welcome the stranger. We have a hard enough time finding our way into the community. Don't make it harder, please. You might be fascinated by us, but don't be rude. You don't have a right to call us names (shiksa or otherwise) or ask inappropriate questions. These questions include but are not limited to:

• What are you doing here [at this synagogue, Jewish event, Jewish place]?
• Oh you're not Jewish? So you're Christian? You love Jesus and all that?
• Are you converting to Judaism?
• Why are you converting to Judaism?
• When are you converting to Judaism?
• You're converting? So you have Jewish boyfriend?
• Do you want to convert because you have a Jewish boyfriend?

I realize that these are based on my experience but I am pretty sure you could replace boyfriend with girlfriend and represent many other people's experiences. If you have a friend who is converting and he or she opens up to you, then you could ask the questions. Ask them in a much more sensitive way. And if you're Jewish and you know someone who is converting, you don't have any right to know why. It's deeply personal. Would you open up to someone about losing your virginity? Same kind of personal. If someone shares with you, be honored because it is very hard to put into words. It's hard to explain a connection to G-d that's driving you to do something because G-d is beyond comprehension. People converting to Judaism convert for many of the same reasons you embrace your own Jewish identity. We love Judaism for the same reasons you do. And remember:

Speech has power. Words do not fade. What starts out as a sound, 
ends in a deed. -Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

Conversations on Conversion, part 2

During our first talk about conversion, the rabbi said something interesting. So interesting that I decided it needs its own post. When we were discussion Christianity, my experiences with it and my currently feelings toward it, she said something to the affect of, "Don't be running from something. Well, you can but eventually be running toward something. We want you to be running toward Judaism." This is actually a great way to describe the process I think I am in the middle of. It reminded me of this article I read a while back about college kids converting to Judaism. Hillel rabbis have commented on the surprising number of students who approach them about conversion. Some rabbis don't think this is a good thing; they think that kids wanting to convert to Judaism is a response to fundamental Christianity. I think they couldn't be more wrong.

Converting to Judaism is not a reaction to the growing fundamentalism among conservative Christians. Militant atheism is. If I wanted to do the opposite of what evangelical Christians do, I would be an atheist skeptic. I would spend my time pointing out all of the inconsistencies in Christian scripture and theology. I would be a huge debbie downer about Christmas and mock Easter. That's not what I want. That doesn't sound very fulfilling to me. Yes, certain things about Christians drive me nuts. Yes, there are times I'd really like to point that out. But, what is the point? I will not change their minds. I can't waste time talking to people who won't listen. Converting to Judaism is its own unique journey that cannot be described as going in the opposite direction of Christianity.

I'll admit it: I've run from Christianity. I've run fast and hard, circled back, run some more and then sprinted out. For most of that time, I didn't know where I was running. I just kept going, kept wandering. I've traveled a lot of places to check out the scene, but I know that toward Judaism is where I'm headed. But I'm not running anymore. I'd say I'm walking at a slow pace, moseying, if you will. I'm taking my time getting there. But I keep checking back over my shoulder, making sure nothing is coming after me. Something might have followed me out when I ran from Christianity.

I'm taking my time with Judaism because I am afraid. I'm afraid of what will happen when the door is closed completely on Christianity. If I don't have closure - if that's what I even need - I'll never find peace in Judaism. I'm afraid of that small tug of betrayal I feel whenever I read about the current affairs of the Catholic Church. The biggest question I am dealing with now is, will that feeling ever go away? It's painful, and I'm tired of dealing with it.

Was this a bad idea?

I've been starting to think that this blog was a bad idea. All the other blogs out there already have an end in mind. Either people start writing once they've officially begun converting to a new religion, or they start after they've joined the new religion, or there are the atheists who explore religion for the sake of mutual understanding and furthering interfaith cooperation. It would seem from the looks of things, that this blog had me going toward converting to Judaism. I love learning about Judaism and doing Jewish stuff, I really do, but how do you really know that you want to be a Jew, forever? Being non-religious and leaving one's parents' religion is so different from changing religions. I'd be going from the high school me who said all religion is bad, outdated, and not for me to a me who, basically, says no, it's just your religion, Mom & Dad, that is not for me. I've read about people converting, not just to Judaism but to Islam and Christianity, and not telling their parents (or waiting until after their parents have passed away... even worse). I can not for the life of me imagine doing this. Unless you have a terrible relationship with your parents and don't talk to them, how can you not be honest about yourself and your life? What if my parents wanted to come visit me one weekend in the fall and they wanted it to be a surprise and it ends up being the High Holidays? What a mess that would be. What if my family one year got crazy and went to church again on Easter and asked me to go? Well, I'd be busy with Passover so that'd be another sticky situation. What if I have a son and my grandparents expect a baptism but end up at a bris? Then there's this whole mess of converting to Judaism: someone somewhere is always going to say you're not a Jew, no matter what you do. The Orthodox will say you're not Jewish if you go Reform or Conservative. But you can't convert Orthodox unless you believe Orthodox things and plan to be Orthodox forever. And if you go Orthodox, you'll have the ultra-orthodox saying you're not a Jew. Granted, most of them are in Israel, but still. And this is a real problem for women since the same problems will be passed onto your children. Oy. When I have children I don't want them to be frustrated like I am. That's why I started looking for new religions in the first place. But now it seems the frustration is inevitable, so why even bother converting?

So the question I'm posing to all of you reading, whoever you are, was there a moment when it all came together for you? Whether or not the religion you chose is Judaism, how were you sure converting was the right thing to do? I just don't imagine it magically falling into place with a sunset telling me it'll all be OK. Did you make a pro-con list? What did it look like? And what did your parents say when you told them?

Judaism

When I first realized Judaism might have a little bit of room for me, I sat around and considered this religion from my limited and fairly ignorant perspective. Yeah, Jews have some fun and interesting holidays and they tend to involve great meals. But fun and food does not a religion make. Today, I know that there are countless things that make Judaism great. Last year, I didn't know half of them. So this post is about the few ideas that I came up with that made me say, OK I'm really going to investigate what Judaism has to offer.

Why are there so many Jewish doctors? No, this isn't turning into an antisemitic rant, I promise. But there are lots of Jewish doctors, professors, non-profit workers, and on and on. I just couldn't help but think that there must be something in Judaism that makes people reach for greatness. That might sound a little cliche. But is it a fluke? Judaism's focus on study, learning, repairing the world, and individual responsibility must have something to do with the professions that Jews pursue.

The name Israel means to wrestle with G-d. Each person has to figure out G-d for him/herself. And the point is to ask questions! I can't tell you how often I've thought and how often I've read from other people that it is such a relief to come into Judaism and be able to argue with the Rabbi. You can't argue with a priest. You can hardly ask questions of a priest... rephrasing a question does not count as a new question, just a repetition of the original. Basically, I just love asking questions and learning, whether it's in the classroom or just learning about a person's life. I don't understand how people could go through life without asking questions of everything. I've been told by a few people that I think way more than other people and my brain never mellows out.... not a bad thing in Judaism.

There are no roadblocks in getting to G-d. You pray straight to G-d all the time, every time. This is not a slight to Christianity, but I don't understand praying to saints. Well, the argument that you pray just so saints will help you out because they're closer to G-d, is somewhat logical. But I don't believe that there are saints hanging out in heaven with G-d, so that doesn't really work for me (see the afterlife). I just want to communicate with G-d directly, that's all. Also, there are no intermediaries between people and G-d in Judaism. Rabbis are teachers and the only one who can forgive sins is G-d, Himself.

Judaism doesn't hinge on miracles. Yes, there are miracles in the Torah and in holiday narratives. But if you take those away, the religion still stands. Maybe Moses didn't physically part the Red Sea like in the movies, but he still led the freed Hebrews out of Egypt and across a body of water. And even these miracles are more practical, if that can be said of a miracle. They're small and are much like the kind of miracle I believe my aunt's life to be (see Mary). Oil lasting for eight days instead of one is a little easier for me to believe in than say, Immaculate Conception. And if you happen to find a miracle you just can't believe in, there's still plenty to work with in Judaism to help you grow as a person and in your relationship with G-d.

Hinduism is to Krishna as Buddhism is to the Buddha as Christianity is to Jesus as Islam is to Mohammed as Judaism is to ....? Moses? But Moses isn't the only major prophet in Judaism. And wasn't the Torah given to the Children of Israel, i.e the Jewish People? The analogy doesn't work, and for a reason. Judaism truly is about a people, rather than a person. Following in the footsteps of Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, or Mohammed is totally cool. As long as it makes you a good person, I have no problem with that. But for me, I have a hard time only being able to look to one person who lived way back in day for an example.

Jews don't say "Cheers!" they say "L'Chaim!" which means to life! And I absolutely adore this seemingly small phrase. Jews and Judaism are concerned with this life and with living it to its fullest. In Judaism, you don't really do good works so you can get into heaven. You do good works because you should. I do the right thing because it's the right thing to do. Like I've said before, I believe this life is all there is, and I love life and so do Jews.

Finally, Judaism and science are completely, 100%, compatible. Thus, there's no choosing between religion and science, G-d and fact.

Questions, Doubts, and The Trinity

I'm not gonna beat around the bush here, people. No one told me Jesus was supposed to be G-d. Yeah, sure, the nuns and teachers said "Son of G-d." But "Son of G-d" and "G-d" are a hell of a lot different. One can easily be a metaphor. We're all supposedly G-d's children; I just thought that Jesus was the best behaved or something, a shining example of who we should strive to be.

It wasn't until the junior high years when I started catching on to this idea, and by that point it was probably too late. I had spent at least ten years thinking of G-d as G-d and of Jesus as a human being named Jesus. How was I supposed to reconcile the two? You better believe I asked questions about the trinity at CCD. I remember telling my eighth grade CCD teacher that if Jesus was supposed to be a piece of G-d on Earth, then after he died he should have just become one with G-d again, and his separate entity of Jesus should have ceased to exist (I think this was pretty impressive logic since not one adult helped me get there, although I of course no long believe it to be true).

This may come to a shock to readers of a non-Christian religion, but asking questions is not a good thing, especially in the Catholic Church. Some Catholic teachers might say they encourage their students to ask probing questions and think deeply about their faith, but that's not the standard practice. Probably 90% of the people who've left the Church as a result of childhood/teenage experiences will cite their frustration at not being allowed to ask questions. To the Church, questions=doubts. Maybe sometimes the questions do stem from doubt. But other times the questions may come from a genuine curiosity to understand just what the hell they're talkin' about. Either way, questions shouldn't be discouraged. But that certainly was my, and my best friend's, experience.

I can't think of a specific example from my own life to illustrate just how discouraged questions are in the Church, but I have a great story about my best friend. Let's call this friend Suzy. Suzy had the same general experience I had with the Catholic Church: went to public school so she did weekly CCD classes & went to church with her mom & sister on Sundays. Suzy didn't/doesn't understand the trinity either. So during her eighth grade year (the one leading up to confirmation) she keeps asking questions about it. The teacher tries to brush her off or explains in a rushed and annoyed manner. Suzy just says flat out, "How is this possible? I don't get it!" After a while she started to get sent to the priest to discourage these questions. Someone might try to interject here and say, "Oh! No, they just sent her to an 'expert' so she could get better answers." To whoever is thinking that, you're wrong. The priest did try to discourage her from asking questions and from "interrupting" class. He asked Suzy, "Don't you want to marry a Catholic?" [because the only way she could is if she is a confirmed Catholic] Suzy replied, "I don't know." An honest answer. Then the priest asked, "Well, don't you want to get married in the Church?" The priest thought he had her on the ropes, that she would give in, say yes, and stop asking questions. Wrong. Suzy said, "No, because I want to get married outside." Then the priest gave up.

In my opinion, the fierce discouragement of questions probably drives many young people, who would otherwise be faithful Catholics, away from the Church. For me, it is just one on a long list of reasons.