Just Mumble Under Your Breath

There's always that one person who asks too many questions at all the wrong time, even in your conversion class. But, besides that, the first class was good. I love that there is a couple in my class who is not Jewish and has no intentions of becoming Jewish. They just want to learn about the religion of their neighbors. I love that Judaism is open to everyone, not just Jews. There is light and learning for all.

As you might have picked up from earlier posts, my rabbi didn't turn me away three times as the tradition dictates. I was surprised how open he was, even for a Conservative rabbi. But, as he said, he doesn't make conversion easy by any means. We have 100 essay questions to answer by the end of the course in May. Some of them are simple. Some of them are not. I know most of the answers and have already started writing them out. If I finish very early and get bored I may ask for more. That's very nerdy of me but the point of learning with a rabbi finally was so I wouldn't be bored with my learning, so I don't want to go back to that point. The shul does this really nice partnering thing where everyone in the class who's converting is paired with a regular at Saturday morning services to help them along. Once the rabbi brought this up he looked at me and realized he never assigned me one. He seemed a little distressed but I clearly am not. I've been on my own in Jewish services for well over a year; we don't have to rush too much getting me a partner, though it might be nice to have someone's brain to pick whenever I have a random question. 

My rabbi is hilarious, which shouldn't surprise anyone, because he's a Jew. Basically, he made us a book for the class and he wrote several documents as well as including articles and prayers. The "Bluffer's Guide To Going to Shul" made my and several of my friends' day. The third point in bluffing your way through shul includes:

When putting on the tallit wrap it around your head for a few seconds while mumbling under you breath.

Fact. No one will ever know what you're saying because everyone mumbles it, so just mumble something. Mumbling can actually get you by in many situations... But, I digress.

Finally, our rabbi reviewed how his conversions are viewed. The reason his conversions stand in Israel is because he doesn't put the letter on the synagogue's letter head. If they don't know immediately it's a conservative synagogue, they just don't care. Clearly, they're not worried about "kosher" conversions, but politics. He also refuses to have a woman sit on the beit din because of the situation in Israel. He doesn't want to cause problems for his converts. When things in Israel and interdenominational relations change, he will gladly have a woman sit on the beit din. Amein.

Mashiach ~ משיח

I remember being in Sunday school when I was about four or five and learning for the first time that Jesus was a Jew. The teacher told us that Jesus was a good little Jewish boy: he respected his parents, loved G-d, and prayed at the Temple. I'd never heard this word, "Jewish," before. I asked my mom later in the car, "Mom, if Jesus was Jewish, why aren't I Jewish?"

"Well," she told me. "The people who accepted that Jesus was the Messiah became Christians, and the people who didn't stayed Jews."

"Oh. So who's their Messiah?" 

"He hasn't come yet." 

"When's he coming?" 

"I don't know. They don't know." 

"Oh, well... I hope he comes soon!"

I had virtually no understanding of what the Messiah means in either religion. I just wanted Jews to have their version of what we had. It's only fair. I was a kind child in that sense, wanting equality for all. When I grew up, I still really had no idea what Messiah meant but I knew that Jesus supposedly had saved us from something. But it didn't makes sense that he didn't save everyone. Why would he only save the people who believed he saved them? Anyway, in those fights I had with my parents about religion, church, and Jesus I remember yelling, "What good did Jesus even do the world? There is still war and starvation. Terrible things still happen. We weren't saved from anything!" I wasn't cognizant of it, but I knew what the Messiah meant, and Jesus wasn't him.

As an adult, I still only knew about the Christianized telling of the Messiah, the one where the Messiah was the Son of G-d and Savior of man kind from the fiery pits of hell. I justifiably thought there was no Messiah and there never would be. I thought Jews were as delusional as Christians for waiting for something so unrealistic. But then I really discovered Judaism, real Judaism not just Channukah, the Rugrats Passover special, and the Christian explanation of the Messiah. Jewish beliefs about G-d and humanity are so sound, practical, and meaningful. I worried that I wanted to be a part of something that had a nonsensical belief hiding at its core.

When I went to buy my first introduction to Judaism book at the bookstore, I saw in the table of contents of Judaism for Dummies the page with the question "Why don't Jews believe in Jesus?" I knew all of my concerns could be addressed by reading this page. I was scared to find out that Jews really do believe in the coming of the Son of G-d. But they don't. When I finally read that Jews do not believe that one person could be the son of G-d, I sighed a huge sigh of relief, knowing there could be a space for me in Judaism.

The messianic age will mark an age of peace on earth in which every day is like Shabbat. Sounds fabulous!

Now, I still don't know how I feel about a personal Messiah. Reform Judaism believes in a Messianic age that will be brought about by humans' collective actions. The Orthodox believe in a person who will come redeem the world, a man from the line of David. The Conservative Movement believes it is up to each person to choose what he or she believes. Since I most identify with the Conservative Movement and will be working with a Conservative Rabbi, I get to choose what I believe. I like what the Reform movement has to say. It is much like what the Kabbalists teach: each person has a messianic awakening inside of him/herself. I think that is not only possible, but truly necessary to peace among people.

At first, I totally rejected the traditional Jewish belief about an individual Messiah. I found it too similar to the Jesus idea. But after a long time learning and thinking, it's not similar to Jesus at all. I learned that Paul, the guy who spread Christianity, was actually a traditional, practicing Jew who rejected that Jesus was the Messiah. Then he went out in the desert, had a vision, and reimagined the meaning of the Messiah. And that's how we got Christianity as we know it today. So the traditional, ancient, Jewish belief that a human being as one of G-d's many children will lead humanity into an age of peace doesn't freak me out. It's just  I just think about the Messiah in terms of practicality. How will anyone know if this person is from the line of David? The only tribal affiliations we know about today are Levites (and their subset, kohaines). There are no Judahites, only Israelites. Second, in order for the Temple to be rebuilt, the Dome of the Rock has to be destroyed/removed/renovated. There can't possibly be peace on earth with that happening.

I would really love for the messianic age to come and it can't hurt to hope for it. But I am very compelled by the idea that we shouldn't wait around for someone to save us and to redeem the world. We each have to work hard at tikkun olam to bring about the coming of the Messiah.

Side note: for those of you considering converting, the tradition says that once the Messiah comes there will be no more conversion to Judaism. Take your time considering and studying, but don't wait forever! I mean, if you believe in that sort of thing. 

Reading Hebrew and a Conservative Minyan

First of all, school has been so crazy! I can't believe it's been two weeks since I last blogged. Second of all, I'm making some pretty great progress on my Jewish New Year's resolutions.

Do you remember what it was like when you first learned how to read? Maybe you've been around a little kid the first time he or she put all the letters together and realized they make a word. It is so terribly exciting for little kids when they first read. They go around reading everything and on some level, they know that the world just opened up to them so much. Maybe I'm just a huge nerd, but that feeling doesn't go away as an adult. Of course I am referring to reading in Hebrew. For the last two Shabbat services at Hillel, I've been able to read the prayers in Hebrew. I was so excited and proud of my self that I was reading everything, even the stuff I know by heart.

Most things in a Reform prayer book are transliterated, but not everything. So last week, we get to a prayer/song that is one of the few we do that doesn't have a transliteration. And I could finally sing it! I knew a few words here and there from listening for so long, but now I have access to this prayer because my awesome friend taught me to read Hebrew. I thought I wouldn't be able to follow along for a long time, but following along with something you're already familiar with actually helps a lot.

Almost nothing in a Conservative prayer book is transliterated. Tonight I went to the Conservative service, and it wasn't closed off to me the way the High Holiday services were. Yes, there were more prayers that I didn't know how to chant, but at least I could follow along. Don't get me wrong, I got lost a lot. But I wasn't nearly as lost as I was during the combined Torah service on Rosh HaShanah. To say the least, I was very happy with how tonight went.


After going to tonight's Conservative minyan, I have been to all three of the main movements' services. It's safe to say, I am more comfortable in the liberal movements (Reform and Conservative). Granted, one of the best d'vars or sermons I've ever heard (that includes any Christian sermon) came from the Orthodox Rabbi in Alabama, but the prayers are all but impossible to follow if you haven't grown up that way. The men mumble... a lot. Even though they tell you what page number you're on, you don't know what they're saying so you can't follow in the book easily. Reform I like because it's super easy to follow along and, at least at Hillel, the services are more upbeat and fun. I like singing along with the guitar (because I suck at singing but in prayer it's fine to suck), but most of the time my favorite prayers are the traditional chants. Enter Conservative service. The leader of tonight's Conservative service didn't call out page numbers very often so I had to watch the girl next to me. I enjoyed chanting the prayers I know and listening and following along with the ones I don't. My head hurt from working so hard to read during the service, but I think the next steps in this journey are to learn more of the prayers in a Conservative service.

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.

Shabbat Shalom

So after my first Shabbat, I met with one of the Hillel rabbis to tell him what my deal was and, basically, to make sure it was OK for me to come to Hillel. He asked me about my past religious experiences and about G-d, and how He factors into my life. I told him some of what's written in this blog, and as for G-d, I relayed an experience I had in the middle of my freshman year that made me change my major instantly.

 I have been planning to become a teacher since I was 16, but it was always as a high school English teacher. During my freshman year I tutored in an inner-city middle school in English and in Math. Then one winter day, one of the boys, Micah, just looked at me and said "Why don't you come here every day?" And to me, the question wasn't just limited to Micah and his class. The question was "Why don't you teach math every day?" When I got back to campus I went straight to my adviser's office, got a math content worksheet, and I haven't looked back. How can I think that moment, that question, was anything other than a sign from G-d?

The rabbi said "Wow," and nothing else for a minute. I don't know if he was shocked, impressed, or confused, but I felt the conversation change after that. I think he took me a little more seriously after he realized I wasn't kidding about believing in G-d and needing to do something with that belief. But then he said, "Now is a good time to also think about your own religion..." (how typical). That's when I explained to him about my trial period with the college church and so I'd already done that. Besides telling me he doesn't do conversions as a college rabbi, he didn't try to deter me any further. As far as the conversion statement, I was perfectly fine with that. I wasn't ready for any more major changes in my life. Later, he emailed me a list of 3 books on Judaism, which I have read most of each since then. (The books are listed at the bottom of my blog, btw.)

After my conversation with the rabbi, Shabbat just eventually became a part of my life. I got excited for it, I looked forward to it, and I was sad when it ended. I made a new friend (or two) every week at Hillel. Eventually, I found an awesome group of friends there. They teach me about Judaism but that's not all. They're not just my Jewish friends, they're my friends. And I'm so happy to have found them.

Where do I go from here...?

So now what do I do now that I'm finished with the Church? Just go back to being a wandering agnostic/atheist type? Wrong. C'est pas possible. I can't be an atheist after all that wrestling with G-d! That would be nonsensical....

About seven or eight months ago, I was on one of my intense wikipedia sessions (the ones where you start of reading one article and click on the little blue words over and over until you're at a completely unrelated topic. yeah, you know what I'm talking about...), and then all of a sudden I'm at a page about Jewish thoughts on the afterlife. Then I go to another page and another page reading more and more Jewish philosophy, theology, etc. And I'm just taking in so much of this information, thinking to myself, "Damn. That's what I think." It was so surprising to me that so many things that I took months and years to figure out, are already apart of an established religion.

To be perfectly honest, I would have never had considered Judaism as a religion for me because of it's relation to Christianity. I guess I just always thought of them as being so similar. Anyone who knows anything is thinking right now "What a dumby. They're so totally different." Yes, I know this now. But as a teenager who just generally despised organized religion, I didn't consider that Judaism might be completely different in its theology and philosophy from Christianity.

So after many days spending hours and hours reading online about Judaism, I decided I was gonna talk to an expert. That's right. I Facebook-messaged a Jew. He lived in my dorm freshman year and identified himself as a Reform Jew on his profile. And I asked him straight up, "What's the deal with being a Reform Jew?" He explained to me some of the basic differences between Reform and Orthodox Judaism and we talked about some other Jewish ideas. Of course, he then asked me why I was so interested. I told him, "I don't wanna be in my parents religion anymore but I believe in G-d. So I'm figuring something else out." He was impressed by this because, according to him, so many kids "lose religion" if they disagree with their parents. Then he invited me to the Hillel on campus for a Friday night service.

I will never forget my first Shabbat service. It was Reform and even though I had trouble finding the English translations of the Hebrew songs and prayers, I'd never felt more connected. I felt connected across time and across the world to everyone who's ever said those prayers. And I felt connected to G-d, for Hebrew is the language that the Tanakh, which has given religion to 3/4 of the world, is written in. No matter how few people pray in this language today, it has had an unmistakable influence on the world. I've talked to other non-Jews who've visited Hillel and just feel overwhelmed and intimidated by the Hebrew prayer service. I guess that I've just been challenged enough by religion that learning a new language doesn't seem like a big deal.

That first night at Hillel was truly a life changing experience for me. I went back the next week and almost every week after that, until school ended for the year. [I also went to the Chabad house twice, for a very traditional Jewish evening ;) ] I made so many great friends, who upon learning that I'm not Jewish instantly started teaching me whatever it is they feel I need to know at that moment. The great thing about Jews is, they love questions. For once, I don't have to be scared to be confused or just curious.