Judaism – Page 6 – Don't Gel Too Soon

ART AND POLITICS

Just to the left is a famous mosaic of Tel Aviv scenes that’s stood in the middle of town since the early 70s. We went with our friends Joel and Nurith to the Nahum Gutman Museum and saw photos of the work, which I loved. Naturally, Joel immediately decided that we had to go see it. And we did. It’s a dear. lovely, loving and evocative work of the three columns you see here, surrounded by a ring of more scenes that serves as a kind of frame — really lovely.

The museum currently features a retrospective of the work of Duda Geva, an Israeli cartoonist who died recently, quite young. His work was kind of disconcerting; much of it joking about the absence of God. He appeared prominently in Israeli newspapers — and the tiny museum was jammed. It’s so fascinating, in a Jewish country, that this very secular man had such a wide following. Typical of the enigmatic nature of Israel in the 21st century – battling between the disproportionately powerful 15% who are super-orthodox and the rest of the country and of the frightful battle for the soul of the country between militant, militaristic right and the progressives. There is such pain and despair — on both sides. I’m going to try to write about it some here in future posts — after two years in progressive and highly secular Tel Aviv we go to Jerusalem tomorrow where religion and more conservative politics rule.

SAFE ARRIVAL

We’re in Tel Aviv (that’s our view on the left) after a lovely set of VERY long flights. The kosher food theme could emerge once more if I let it; horrible on United from DC to Frankfurt — much better from Frankfurt to Tel Aviv. I’ve got to get over this. It’s clear that I have a food thing; it’s certainly partly about surrendering power over what I’m eating but there has to be more since I’m totally fine running a kosher home. I think from now on I’m bringing food — a nuisance for someone who already looks like a refugee when boarding – with laptop, a couple of books, crocheting (on long trips) and more. AND I have to get into the issues that are doing this to me – whatever they are. We’re so happy seeing friends we first met thirty years ago — more details when I’m completely through time changes….

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.

MAD MAX[INE] – KOSHER ON THE ROAD

This is the first time I’ve tried to eat only kosher food on the road. We called the hotel where we were going to stay (they have been really nice so I’m not saying where) and the guy asked if we needed a special dining room too. (No, we aren’t germ-averse, just food-specific) We got the dinner we had ordered and it came in paper containers (soup) and plastic plates (bread, good rare rib roast slice and green beans) and Styrofoam (tea.) I asked about the caterer — it was the local Jewish Home for the Aged! Lunch is later today so can’t report on that.

I’m having trouble getting used to this.

I want my mobility. I want my connection to the rest of the world through food. I want to walk into a diner at the beach or a middle eastern place in LA and just sit down.

I want — that’s the issue, isn’t it? I have to learn when to slam the “I want” into the drawer and just go with the rules. I’m perfectly comfortable doing it at home – but I don’t have to give anything up to do that, really. It’s just a matter of careful logistics. On the road it’s different. I feel the pull of the “outside world” that keeping kosher seems to limit in some ways. I need to learn how to handle this – and I don’t want to write too much about it right now. I just wanted to document this experiment in kosher road warriorhood. And to mention that in a hotel where they had no idea of the scope or reason for our requests they went out of their way to make it pleasant. That’s a lovely thing. If they can bother – I have to learn how to bother too without complaining.

If I’m really honest I have to say that my biggest fear is imposing anything on my non-kosher kids. They were not raised in all this and there’s no reason to expect then to live as we do. But I’m afraid it will become a burden between us – — not because of them — they are caring and considerate and will help us to do what we need — but because I’ll be guilty and apologetic and make everything harder for all of us by overcompensating – both at their homes and at ours. I know I’ll figure it all out but some days I’m more aware than others of the “giving up stuff’ side that is part of what has brought us to all the peace and beauty of this new life.

OUT OF THE CLOSET

I sometimes write about the beginnings of this Jewish life I am trying to live. Today a piece I wrote this summer appears in the Orthodox Union magazine – called Shabbat Shalom. It’s about the day I made our home kosher. It’s pretty straightforward but for anyone who wonders how I can write about Patti Smith and observant Judaism in the same post, it will be interesting. Actually, I’m pretty proud of it. Here’s a preview – then you can go read it.

October 18, 2006 I Have a Kosher Home

Today I kashered my kitchen. Well, actually – a lovely Tunisian friend named Riadh and his catering team did the work. I just designated things milk, meat and parve and called the Rabbi to ask if I had to get rid of all my knives and whether you had to polish the silver before kashering it (you don’t.) Strange things happened. The idea of giving up my mother’s bread knife had me close to tears. The idea of never using my blue mugs (now dairy) when I served dinner on our white china (meat) made me angry. Was I sure – I asked myself – that this was the right decision – a commitment that, once made, I would honor as a matter of principle as well as faith

I wrote it because I was asked to – but it was valuable to have to describe something about our Orthodox life in concrete terms. There’s a 12 step saying "fake it til you make it." I’ve discovered that it works well in a quest for faith too. When Woody Allen said 90% (or 85 or 95 depending on the source) of life is just showing up." he was right. If you’re not there trying you aren’t going to get very far.

So take a look and let me know what you think. This has been an important passage for me and it flies in the face of the secular nature of the political and social circles in which I’ve always lived. So many people are moving in the other direction – Europe – always a place I felt supremely comfortable – is mostly secular now. So is the progressive universe in which I spend most of my time. Even so I feel a sense of peace that I haven’t known before as I make my way slowly toward more and more observant living. Probably part of the reason is that no one is pushing me — my husband and I determine the speed and nature of our evolution and it’s often not at precisely the same rate. But we’re getting where we need to go and learning to accept the discipline. Our children have come, I think, to at least respect what we’re doing; at the same time, we need to remember to respect their right to decide their own spiritual lives even if the decision differs radically from ours.

That’s enough. Read the piece and comment here, will you? I want to know how it looks from the outside.

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.

Spirit, Sukkot and Love

I’m in the middle of considerable chaos. If you’re an observant Jew you spend this week eating all your meals in something called a Sukkah. It’s a sort of four-walled canvas room with a roof made of branches or corn husks or bamboo because you have to be able to see the stars at night from inside. The idea is to remember the Jews wandering the desert living in "booths." It sounds so weird it’s hard to explain but it’s also lovely and romantic and a great way to have company in the crisp autumn lunches and evenings. It’s all lit with sparkly white lights (like Christmas decorations) and great fun.

The chaos comes from the cooking and planning. I had a big lunch last Saturday and because it was the Sabbath had to cook it all in advance. It was damp and chilly but fortunately someone had lent me a crock pot so I put the soup on low just before the Sabbath started on Friday night and it was still hot for lunch on Saturday. One of my guests was a vegetarian so I also made salmon, tabouli, eggplant casserole and salad. A friend brought brownies and I made banana bread. But it took FOREVER and learning how to arrange everything to serve outside added to the stress. Everyone loved it but I was exhausted.

One friend of mine does 16 people at a time (I had 11 counting us) and I’m damned if I know how. I am still learning how to do all this -especially in a kosher kitchen. The food DOES matter – it’s a sign of respect both to God and the holiday and to those who have entertained us so graciously as we made our way into all this so I get great satisfaction once the chaos has subsided but it’s tough along the way. I am blessed in having friends to guide me and answer stupid questions like "can I use a "meat" infusion blender and still serve fish?" Kosher niceties…

The funny thing is that the life we’re building now, around religious observance, sukkahs, fasts and prayers, builds a community that feels like the first real one since our days in the peace movement. The goals are strangely similar too, a better world, better selves and great, common goals.
I guess part of all this is the deep loss I have felt as those feeling dissipated in our days since the Civil Rights and Anti-War movements. How amazing that the route back to them goes through the oldest of pathways.

ATONEMENT, APOLOGIES, AMENDS

Tonight is the beginning of a very holy day in Judaism – the "shabbat of shabbats" – the day of atonement. The saying goes "On Rosh Hashanah ( the New Year – last week) it is written, on Yom Kippur (tonight and tomorrow) it is sealed." God inscribes us in the Book of Life for another year.

You ask to be forgiven for all your sins and turn to those in your life to apologize, not just to God. You have to mean it. We are told that God knows we are not perfect and seeks our pursuit of virtue and repentance from our failures in those pursuits.

I have to say until the past couple of years, when I’ve been involved in observant Judaism (yeah I grew up Reform) I never felt the impact of the day, really. Now though, it is something I take fairly seriously — including fasting from sundown to sundown. Tonight we have some families having pre-fast dinner at our house and then we will all walk to services together. Three kids under two will be among them. The presence of children really brings home the value in trying to live a good life. They will be inheriting so much that is bad in this world that any move we can make toward virtue is a plus.

I haven’t really done the human to human apology as I should I don’t think. I hope by next year – my third in this new life, I will be comfortable doing that. I have however, tried to be honest within myself and move toward real efforts to behave ina better way.

I’ve written about this before but the other thing that fascinates me is the similarities between the 12 steps and observant Judiasim. Again here, the steps include listing all one might have harmed and "trying to make amends to them all" unless an approach might do damage (I guess reveal secrets to others etc.) On Yom Kippur we make the same approach to God.

If I can get myself to feel that I’ve moved in that direction – I know I’m far from spiritually ready to carry out the whole journey – it will be a wonderful way to move through the new Jewish year, appreciate the beauty of the changing leaves and the silvery winter to come. Shanah tovah.

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:

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.