faith – Page 2 – Don't Gel Too Soon

YOM KIPPUR – REDUX

This is Safat – a mystical city in Israel — with the sun setting on a summer evening. Tonight is Yom Kippur and so I offer this lovely photo along with wishes for a happy and healthy year whether you are Jewish or not.

Last year I wrote about the holiday – I’m repeating it here because it says most of what I feel and believe about this day.
Here goes:

September 26, 2006

Where I grew up most people were Catholic and so I know a bit about
Confession in those terms, but what we do is a bit different. We must
seek forgiveness from those we have harmed – and take responsibility
for our sins. It is our duty to give extra charity and to fast and to
seek a better self beyond the confession of past transgressions. If
you take it seriously it’s a valuable exercise.

I have been fascinated in my now three year adventure with a more
religious lifestyle – to notice the similarities between Judaism and 12
Step programs. I’m involved with Al-Anon – for people affected by the
alcoholism of others – but here are some of the 12 Steps from AA – they are remarkably similar to redemption within faith:

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

I guess it makes sense – there’s a reason AA works and it’s probably got
a lot to do with the same phenomena that enable us to find true penance
on Yom Kippur or the other rituals of penance in other faiths.

Anyhow, it’s a beautiful fall day, I’m working on my penance and the privilege
of a new year – and wish you all the pleasure of the autumn sunshine
and a peaceful heart.

A NEW YEAR, A 36th WEDDING ANNIVERSARY, A LOT TO THINK ABOUT

Tonight begins Rosh Hashanah – the New Year celebration that launches the holy season of the Days of Awe that continues until Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement. It’s also a huge day for me – in more than one way. Rick and I were married 36 years ago today. On a boat on the Monongahela River. We’ve been through a lot – maybe more than most couples – but we’ve hung on and we’re reaping the rewards of a shared history. So to have this remarkable landmark fall on the eve of a holy day of renewal is really something.

This is another anniversary, too. Our third living an observant life. We first came here for Rosh Hashanah services 4 years ago, met our remarkable rabbi and began the journey that has led us to a new, moving, inspiring, frustrating, challenging, occasionally painful, sometimes completely uplifting life. We share new feelings, new friends, new aspirations to goodness and a sense of God, new challenges and inspirations. AND we’re still sharing them with each other. That too is remarkable.

Now as we move toward observance of these days, toward prayers and meals and friends and — especially joyful – a visit from one of our sons and his girl friend, I am both grateful and anxious. We are supposed to think about debts and obligations, sins and redemption. I still carry a painful family resentment – toward someone I love but who has hurt me deeply and , I suspect, believes that I hurt her. I need to deal with this but am still struggling to figure out how. But I know I will – that I must. That’s the other gift of this season – a confrontation with the personal flaws that impede our prayers and our happiness. My dear one, if you read this, know how much I love you and that we will find our way past this – I promise.

To those who have offered us so much guidance and support, with whom we’ve had such fun and such meaningful prayers (and meals – and visits) I wish you the gift of as much goodness as you’ve brought us – an enormous deluge of joy. To our dear rabbi and his family a special thanks for being our gateway to this new life and all that it has meant.

And to Rick, my partner, love and best friend, eternal gratitude to you for your courage and determination, love and generosity, talents and humor and incredible incredible soul. Happy anniversary. Thanks for the memories, the adventures, our amazing children, and this astonishing, still emerging journey. L’shana tova.

REBIRTH OF WONDER (REDUX)– DEATH AND LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI

One more deadline, one more rerun- the last for a while, I promise.

In A Coney Island of the Mind, San Francisco poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti wrote of a search for a rebirth of wonder.* It’s out there – that wonder — sometimes in the strangest places.

Here is what I know: Some things in life surprise us — not with shock but with wonder. Today we flew to Boston for Rick’s dad’s funeral. It was a beautiful day – sunny and almost as warm as spring. With Rick and me traveled not only our remarkable rabbi, but also two of Rick’s dearest friends. Despite the mid-week madness of Washington, they had chosen to leave their work and fly north to support us. In addition, the sisters of two friends unable to come arrived as their surrogates. That was the first wondrous thing.

An Orthodox funeral is deceptively simple. The coffin is a plain pine box held together with pegs. As it leaves the hearse it is borne by the mourners to its place over the grave. On the way, Psalm 91 is recited and the procession stops seven times. Once the coffin – reverently referred to as the "aron" is in place, the service proceeds.

With our rabbi leading the service, each step along the way was accompanied by warm and loving exposition: Why do we do this? — How should we participate? — What is the blessing of bearing the aron and seeing to its burial? As he led the prayers and answered these questions, it was with such love and individuality that participation became a privilege and a comfort. That is the second wondrous thing.

As the service moved toward conclusion the rabbi explained the final act. We, not the cemetery employees, would bury the coffin – my husband’s father. One by one, we took up the shovels and poured earth into the grave. Not until the grave was full and the coffin covered did we leave… and then, all those in attendance formed a double line so that Rick and his brother could pass through, moving from the funeral to the initial mourning period, or Shiva.

This last, loving duty is perhaps the most remarkable of what an Orthodox Jewish funeral offers mourners. At the funerals of each of my parents, way before we moved into this new life, the cemetery distributed little envelopes of "dirt from Israel" which attendees dropped on the coffin. We all left then, and the cemetery employees finished the job.

I told my sister about the custom that mourners fill the grave, thinking that she, who is not thrilled with our decision to live a more observant life, would be appalled. Instead, she said "That’s so great – leaving them covered and at peace. I felt so badly leaving Daddy there so exposed…." That’s probably the most critical. Imagine the difference, at the close of such a painful day, filled with loss and grief, if you knew you’d bid a farewell that leaves your loved one cared for and at peace. Imagine, too, that those you love – beloved friends and family members – have all left a part of themselves there in the grave; that the final resting place includes their loving labor. That’s the final wondrous thing.

We’re nowhere near the Age of Wonder, that’s for sure. But we are occasionally given a peek. Today the window opened and a bit emerged — not quite a rebirth but present nonetheless — just enough to help us see what’s possible. If that’s not wonder, I don’t know what is.

*I Am Waiting
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting for someone
to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder

HATS OFF (???) Part 2

You thought we were finished with this, didn’t you? Sorry. Laura Shaw Frank (scholar of such magnitude and teacher of such openness) this weekend continued her lectures on the issue of modesty. She made two points which greatly enhance this conversation — which follows from this earlier post.

The first was that the term "modesty" which includes not only hair covering and clothing but also a gender-neutral moral, ethical and spiritual modesty, is meant to bring us closer to God. So, although many of the most conservative Orthodox Jews set what appear (to me) to be unjust and unnecessary conditions, as we consider what’s modest and what isn’t, where, how and if to cover hair and why, we need to remember the overarching concept of a private relationship with a higher power, enhanced and empowered by a modest body AND spirit; as we consider how intense the rules should be – and indeed why they must exist at all — we need to do so in the context of the intent — male or female — of living modestly.

The second issue she raised was about something called "habituation." "Habituation" is change in social climate – in habit, really. Does the fact that so few women cover their hair make it no longer a form of "nakedness" to leave the hair uncovered? I have to tell you – half of me boils over still at the idea that we even need to have this conversation. In fact, at the discussion, one of my friends asked why she had to listen to rules and Talmudic interpretations of how women should behave, proffered by men. Frank cited valid, respected sources on both sides. Some say that many of the most critical prayers may not be recited in the presence of a woman with uncovered hair; others say that "since most women go that way now, it has become like an exposed part of the body." In other words, "It’s all around you so why would it harm your thoughts or seem like nakedness? You must be inured to it by now."

The thing is – if modesty is also a key to internal connection to God, what is the point of defying the concept? Why not find a way for men and women to pursue modesty as part of the pursuit of God? What Laura Frank maintains is that as we decide how to apply these ideas we need to know the sources. To struggle or condemn rules, as I am wont to do, only by applying current political standards without understanding of the deeper intention is not fair to those who interpret the rules or to oneself. You need a historic and biblical context.

Beyond that – the biggest question: IF WE DO ACCEPT THE CONCEPT OF HABITUATION – WHERE DO WE DRAW THE LINE???? You may remember my link to Cooper Munroe’s site – BEEN THERE, where she posted a New York Times piece called Middle School Girls Gone Wild. It’s a troubling description of very suggestive dance performances by tween-aged girls. No sensible person wants that for her child; it’s that end of the spectrum that underlines the question of "how far do we habituate? How do we maintain the decorum we do seek? Must the slippery slope govern everything?"

I realize that to non-Orthodox Jews this is probably a bizarre post but the idea behind it – living a life without showiness or improper behavior as each of us sees it — is not limited to our small community. The fact that the TIMES story was one of the "most emailed" for some time proves that.

It’s the end of the year. Our first (at least half of it) in this house. We waited a long time to be able to live here – and still face difficulties. But, as the song says, it’s “A very, very, very fine house.” Both of our kids love it — although they’ll always come to visit and probably never live here. Sabbath dinners are lovely and comfortable. All around us, the vibe is good.

We moved here, walking distance from our synagogue, with trepidation as we came further and further into the new, observant lifestyle that has so transformed us. Last night we had dinner with friends of a similar age who moved into the community just last week. “I feel like a different person.” said one of them. Me too, I guess, but in my case it’s really that I feel more like the real self I always knew was in here someplace.

So, on this last day of the year – as we face continued earthly difficulties with our house and its predecessor (don’t ask) I sit, at dawn, sleepless, but thankful for this new opportunity – maybe privilege, that’s been granted to us. As we move to 2007, the 61st year I’ve lived on this earth, the 15th since I quit smoking, the 31st I’ve been a mother, 36th I’ve been a wife and 9th I’ve lived with both my parents gone, I ask – hope – pray for a good long time for Rick and me to follow this path together, for health, happiness and peace for the two of us, our magnificent sons and those they choose to love — and for the loving, generous and exemplary community that has helped set us on this remarkable journey.

IS THIS KOSHER?

WARNING: WHINING (completely without merit, I might add):

We were in Orlando all weekend at an advocacy training. It was my husband's journey and I went along for the ride. He had asked for kosher meals – it had worked fine on our last trip — but these were some of the worst food I have ever eaten. To the point where I was actively angry – angry! that this had become part of my life. They were in boxes, sealed with cellophane so the kashrut could be guaranteed. The first night the hotel sent them up with a wonderful bellman named Nelson and a tiny microwave where he heated them for us. The meal was called Buffalo Chicken Wings with Rice and Corn. It was a mush of rice, corn and way way waaaaay overcooked chicken wings. And tomato sauce. Plus it was spicy which I hate. Somehow this became very important to me – not sure why.

In the morning we were able to eat hard boiled eggs on plastic plates w/plastic silverware. Not so bad. Lunch brought spaghetti with weird meat-balls and tomato-flavored library paste. I took some salad from the conference buffet – which included – but was unavailable to me — rye bread (not kosher), cold cuts (not kosher) and cheese (not kosher.) We had Sushi for dinner which is ok and was good.

I often quote our friend MONK – "Here's the thing." I have spent a lot of time working on learning the rules of kashrut and often spend Friday evenings reviewing the rules (the books here [How to Keep Kosher and the Spice and Spirit Cookbook] are the best I've found) but it's just hard both to figure out and to execute on the road. I only buy food for our home with a hechscher (that U with a circle around it at the top of this post) and I know now to cook. As I've said before, the home stuff is fine – comfortable and real.

I think that the real problem isn’t the food it’s the exclusionary nature of this portion of the observant life. I’m going to have to learn how to manage it and keep writing about it until it feels better because right now it feels lonely in some odd way. Then I go to an event or to services at our synagogue and realize why I’m doing this. My husband calls it “the yoke of heaven” and reminds me that I’ve chosen it and will find a way to live within it. I know that’s true and that whether I eat crummy spaghetti is really not the issue. Reading the New York Times travel section and knowing I really can’t eat in most of the restaurants there is more the issue. OR wander into a Guatemalan hole-in-the-wall on 16th St. or a Greek place downtown or a Vietnamese place in Paris or even a steak house in Chicago!

HOLD ON!! I know as I read this how spoiled I sound. I’ve spent my life in amazing adventures in travel AND food and it’s not like I’ve never had these experiences. I am just really struggling with surrender I think. In some circles they call it “turning it over” to God. Our rabbi says “There is a God and it’s not me.” If I accept that then I have to accept the observant principles that inform the faith and the peace it offers. Most of the time I can. But boy it’s a bumpy journey.

PATTI SMITH, CBGB AND AN OBSERVANT LIFE

I’ve never been to CBGB OMFUG. Why do I care about a punk music club whose entrance was always spattered with graffiti and most of whose musical appearances were by people I knew almost nothing about — except Bruce Springsteen [he wrote this with Patti Smith] , Patti Smith [two favorites: People Have the Power, Peaceable Kingdom], Joan Jett [I Love Rock and Roll] and a few others? (I don’t t know the lore all that well – but it always seemed to me that women really got a crack at center stage at CBGB.) I think it was just nice to see it there – waving its fist in the air. It has closed – maybe to reopen, maybe not – and I’m just kind of sad to see it losing its lease to what some have called "the suburbification of Manhattan."

Patti Smith, whom I had the honor to meet at last year’s Media Reform conference in St. Louis, was a real CBGB heroine and I felt, meeting her, a deep connection. We’re the same age. She’s a heartbreakingly honest person who lost her husband way too soon (and wrote People Have the Power partly at his instigation) — a mom and a singular human soul. The music she made was remarkably articulate (she is a poet after all) and inspiring. I’ve linked above to two of my favorites — one of which, People Have the Power, was an anthem of the Vote for Change election tour in 2004.

So what do the final days of a gritty music club where I never went have to do with my life as an observant Jew? Believe it or not – plenty. Both of them were fascinating universes I always observed from the outside and wondered about. Both stood for making one’s own way to truth. That search has taken me, for some reason I’m still grappling with, to the Orthodox Jewish community where I’ve found a home and spirit that brings a new kind of meaning to my life.

At my last big birthday I complained to a friend about my age and her response was "but you’re completely reborn in this new life – you’re not old AT ALL!" In some ways she’s right. I certainly feel that there’s a universe I’m traveling through that’s new, moving, inspiring and mysterious. Sometimes though it’s also a pain. For the past several weeks, from Rosh Hashanah (the New Year) to the end of Simchas Torah (Ending the annual, week-by-week reading of the Torah: the five books of Moses – Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy and beginning again) the holidays consumed days of time: in synagogue, inviting guests to meals and going to meals at friends, building and dismantling a sukkah and observing the prohibition on driving and work. Since this year many of these days fell on weekends it meant NO catching up on work on Sundays and no farmer’s market. (two weird examples, I admit.) Since it’s the end of tomato season that last was sad though not critical to the future of the human race or my household. Even so, all these small requirements, which I try to follow since I’ve made this commitment, can consume time and tax serenity and spirituality. I’ve come to love the prohibition on the Sabbath and enjoy the quiet days reading, taking walks, visiting, napping and sharing ideas. But the surrender to and acceptance of all these rules is a peculiar experience and I grapple with it daily. Even so, the quest, like that of the young rebels who put CBGB on the map, is a great adventure – and the learning is exhilarating.

Go listen to People Have the Power whether this post makes sense or not. It will make you happy on a Monday – although that’s easier here today since it’s the third amazingly gorgeous fall day in a row – with leaves turning and leaf smells beginning to fill the air. Which, I just realized, takes us right back to faith and gratitude for the world’s beauty when it shows up.

Repentance, the New Year and Friends of Bill

If you’re Jewish this is a particularly important time of year. We just celebrated Rosh Hashanah – the New Year – and now are in the ten days between the New Year and the Day of Atonement – Yom Kippur – the holiest day — the day of repentance. It’s interesting to have an opportunity once a year to examine one’s life and seek improvement. Where I grew up most people were Catholic and so I know a bit about Confession in those terms, but what we do is a bit different. We must seek forgiveness from those we have harmed – and take responsibility for our sins. It is our duty to give extra charity and to fast and to seek a better self beyond the confession of past transgressions. If you take it seriously it’s a valuable exercise.

I have been fascinated in my now three year adventure with a more religious lifestyle – to notice the similarities between Judaism and 12 Step programs. I’m involved with Al-Anon – for people affected by the alcoholism of other – but here are some of the 12 Steps from AA – they are remarkably similar to redemption within faith: