The Enigma

"Why?"

"What exactly was it that made you change your mind?"

"How did this happen?"

Living in a small town community has its challenges for any Jew, I know. We're isolated from Jewish culture centers and inundated with messages that Christianity is the real religion (I was surprised to realize the other day that "Judeo-Christian" really means "Christian with some heritage" when in common usage around here). With this in mind, why would I be at all surprised to find that Christians are baffled at the thought of conversion to Judaism from Christianity? After all, I am well aware that the prevailing thought is along the lines of "Christianity is Judaism perfected." Why wouldn't Christians question my decision to "go backward?"

Even a couple years into this journey, I still find these surprises lying in wait for me, just as they still scratch their heads. I am the enigma to my friends, family, and acquaintances. I am the problem they discuss when religion is the topic of conversation. I am the human Rubik's cube that they continually fidget with and fuss over, hoping to find the one part that clicks and unlocks the puzzle.

It sounds so self-centered, but for my nearest and dearest, it's generally accurate. I think the dailiness of Jewish life, the weekly coming of Shabbat, the frequency of the multitude of Jewish holidays on the calendar, along with the Christian admonitions to bring back the wanderer and evangelize to the unsaved, keeps this paramount on their list of to-dos. My seeking and studying has been boiled down to the terse "are you still doing that Jewish thing?"

Well, yes, I am. Thankfully, "doing Jewish" is a great way to put it, so the question makes me smile rather than frown. Yes, I'm still trying to live my life Jewishly, do Jewish things, celebrate Jewish holidays, doing that Jewish thing.

Even holding conversation after conversation, the questions continue to emerge: why would you go backward? Why would you turn your back on your upbringing? What did it?

I think they want as much to know "what was the clincher" as anything. I don't know whether it's due to a concern that a similar situation might affect them the same way, or whether if they could just know what to attack and argue against, they might have a chance to change my mind. It's as if my convictions are in code, and if they could just break the code, they could reorder my thoughts. So what on earth was I thinking?

In all honesty, it's been long enough that the original catalyst has long gone fuzzy in my mind. I remember the feeling of wholeness I found in the synagogue that first Simchat Torah, but I don't remember the arguments that caused me to question the upbringing I received. I remember the feeling of opening up a door when I began Hebrew lessons and could follow along in the siddur during services, but not the words that might have made me open to the experience. Apparently, the first inklings will have to remain an engima to us all. What's important to me is my continuing identification with Jewish life and the Jewish community. How and why did it begin?

I honestly don't know. But I'm glad it did.

Couldn't have said it better myself...

We Jews are, ideally, a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, a light unto the world - who would not want to be a part of such a nation? That is why I am Jewish.

Our national history teaches us to love our neighbor as ourselves, to not shun the stranger - for we were strangers in the land of Egypt. Who better than to carry the torch of social justice, to set a positive example?

To us Jews, faith is important - but deeds are much more so. That is why I am Jewish. I am Jewish because I am the descendant of people who were not content merely to pray to God, but had the chutzpah to bargain with, argue with, and cajole Him.

I am Jewish because we need no intermediaries between us and the Almighty, an ineffable Spirit who does not need to incarnate Himself in order to understand the deepest thoughts of His creations, who created them without sin or blemish (and without perfection) - but with Free Will. That is why I am Jewish.

Plus...gefilte fish!

Jack: Why be Jewish?

I can't really say I want to be Jewish thanks to the gefilte fish...it's sad to admit, but I'm not much of a fish eater at all. The rest of this quote from Jack's blog is so much what I think...who wouldn't want to be part of such a nation?

Jack sought the opinions and thoughts of many, many Jews across the blogosphere in order to form his post, "Why be Jewish?" The answers are fascinating. I highly recommend reading it if you haven't already.

A Break for Girly News!

I am old enough to remember when American Girl books and dolls came out. Naturally it was the books which first drew me in, and I can remember waiting for the newest installments to come out all through elementary school. As I aged out of the series, I continued to keep an eye on the dolls. Those beautiful dolls, so expensive for a working class family, but so exciting with all their accoutrements! It's amazing how much one doll can collect (because you know you're not collecting these things yourself, don't you?).

Now with a daughter I continue to watch the American Girl dolls, but never really thought they were worth the expense...until now. Meet Rebecca Rubin, the newest American Girl!

I am excited about this doll for a number of reasons. First, as a history major and a parent the ability to introduce history in my child's toy (as opposed to "The History of Strawberry Shortcake" ) is a large draw. According to the Times, the historicity of Rebecca's story seems to be on target, which is the first question I always need answered. Second, as a developing Jewish family the ability for my daughter to find a doll she can identify with religiously (as opposed to "Christmas for Samantha" and other holiday stories) is promising. Especially living in a rural area without the Jewish flavor that might be found in a larger community, any chance to help my daughter see Judaism around her is one worth taking.

The third reason is the doll itself. Not only is it a historical, Jewish doll, but my daughter looked at the picture and said "it's me!" She also has the light brown hair with auburn highlights, which until last week fell to the middle of her back. Knowing that I was secretly planning to purchase this doll for her birthday, I had to grin when she followed that observation up with a question: "Does she come with challah?"

Why, yes, my dear, she does! I can hardly wait till Miss Rebecca Rubin goes on sale next week. A hat tip to both Chaviva and Frume Sarah, as they both have featured this new arrival on their blogs before me.

Chag Sameach Shavuot!

Mental Block

Call it exhaustion, call it performance anxiety, call it fear of rejection...call it whatever you like, but the fact is that I have completely frozen on my Beit Din essay.

I was saving this till after the end of the semester, sort of a 'saving the best for last' thought because I knew that I wouldn't be searching things in books or online, footnoting or fact-checking with this essay. It would come from the heart and I already knew the answers, so how hard could it be?

Turns out, pretty darn hard. I know how I came to this point, but to sit down and put in black and white that "oh, I just kinda all of a sudden decided that Christianity was wrong and Judaism was, like, AWESOME," isn't exactly what I think the Beit Din wants to hear. It's not really how things happened, either, but it's the Cliffs Notes version. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I got to this point. Was it really the Introduction to World Religions class? After all, my professor reassured us at the beginning that he had never, in all his years of teaching religious studies, had anyone convert from their religion to another due to what they learned in class. That doesn't mean it wasn't the reason, obviously. There's always a first time (and may I just add a disclaimer, I'm actually looking forward to getting back in touch with him and letting him know that I'm his first. What can I say, it just makes me chortle with glee). Was it because my mother once upon a time was interested in Messianic Judaism/Christianity and we had intertwined Jewish and Christian motifs in our home? (By the way, I still want to find that dreidel!)

Is it because I like to be different? Is it a rebellion against everything in my life that's the norm? I'd like to hope not, since normalcy and comfort are something I'm really craving right now during this deployment.

I am so stuck. I want to be able to explain myself, but I'm not sure I fully understand in the first place.

I suppose the only thing to do is to take the bull by the horns and begin to write. I have no excuses to put it off any longer, and what's the worst that could happen? I could break a nail or have a breakthrough! I guess this means full speed ahead.

Taking a quick blog break...

Things have been extremely busy in the last month or so...school work has been an all-encompassing occupation, along with the final few meetings of my Intro to Judaism class. My major paper of the semester is written and Sunday will be the final class and final exam for Intro, so I am taking a much-needed break and trying to catch up a bit on my favorite blogs. No blogging experience would be complete without checking out this week's Haveil Havilim, hosted currently at Ima on the Bima's blog. It was through HH that I found this gem of Passover hilarity:

The Facebook Passover Haggadah

Huge hat-tip to the Tikkun Olam blog for this post, which brightened my afternoon considerably. There are several other wonderful posts in this week's HH, so please go check them out!

Getting out of my head

I had something of a revelation today. Yesterday my rabbi recommended a combined relaxation and meditation exercise before reciting the Shema at night. I didn't think much about it, but thought it would be a nice way to prepare myself mentally for rest while adding to my Jewish practice.

Today two people touched me through words and experiences, making me realize that while I was nodding along and adding the meditation and Shema to my mental "to do" list, I wasn't feeling it.

First, I was told by a dear friend that she is amazed by me for the religious search I've undertaken, and the type of faith that requires. It seemed to her that it would take a great deal of fortitude to do that, and of course she's right. In order to stay the course, I will be facing many challenges above and beyond what I've dealt with to this point. But more than that, I need to nuture what she would call my "faith," my connection with G-d and the Jewish community.

Second, tonight I paid a visit to a favorite blog of mine, Amanda's Just Call me Chaviva. Since I've been busy trying to catch my own tail lately, I haven't been able to keep up with all of the blogs that I normally find time for. I had several posts to catch up on, and one of them was a beautiful slideshow of a B'nai Mitzvah ceremony held on Masada in Israel, in which Chavi took part. The pictures were very moving, and I found myself with a lump in my throat at one point. When did I come to identify with these people in tallitot and kippot so strongly? I'm sure it's been a gradual process over the last year and some, but it just hit me all of a sudden that I was no longer feeling an outsider to this, I was viewing this through the inside lens.

It was in that moment of emotional identification and happiness for the joy on the face of Chavi that I realized I have been spending most of the last year operating from my head, not my heart. "Judaism" had become a cerebral exercise, something to conquer, a deadline to meet. I had lost that particular joy that first drew me to temple, that feeling of the awareness of Shabbat, the comfort in the sound of the prayers, the warmth of the shared Kiddush and Oneg Shabbat. I let things get in the way of my attendence at temple, and while I was still observing Shabbat by lighting candles, and saying blessings and kindling the Chanukah lights, it was still not reaching my heart.

Seeing the shared joy of the b'nei mitzvah on Masada, the austere beauty of the land of Israel, and the striking colors of the flag contrasting with earth reminded me of what I am missing. Now that I have felt the brush of that emotion again, perhaps I will be better able to find it in the future. You can be sure I'll be examining the state of my kavanah, my intent, as I go forward in my daily practice. This isn't a class exercise, it's life and connection. Just as with an electrical circuit, I have to be fully plugged in to make the connection work. Here's hoping.

A visit of happiness...

As reported on the Muqata's liveblogging for today (yesterday, Israel time), the Breslovers paid a visit to Israeli soldiers.

If you're unaware of the Breslovers/Breslevers, also known as Na Nachers, here's a small piece of information from the Wikipedia article:

Na Nach Nachma Nachman Meuman (Hebrew: נ נח נחמ נחמן מאומן‎) is a Hebrew language mantra used by some sub-groups of the Breslov group of Hasidic Jews. The complete phrase is Na Nach Nachma Nachman Me'uman. It is a sound poem based on the four Hebrew letters of the name Nachman, referring to the founder of the Breslov movement, Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, along with a reference to his burial place in Uman, Ukraine.

One teaching of the Breslover Rebbe was that it was a mitzvah to be happy always, thus the connection of happiness with the Na Nachers. For me, it's just wonderful to see a show of support on film rather than rockets, bomb shelters, or casualties.

Please keep all involved in your thoughts and prayers.