When I first got involved in observant Judaism, I was appalled at a lot of what I saw.  Without any background or knowledge I was ready to condemn rules from keeping kosher to circumcision to the bedecken in a marriage ceremony to Jewish education.

I’ve changed my mind about many things (though not all) but more important than any single issue is the larger lesson of this lengthy and complicated transition: you can’t judge anything until you really understand it.  It’s so easy to laugh off a traditional life, modest clothing, 613 commandments (and I still struggle with many of them and remain, I know, ignorant of many others.)  But as each rule and ritual is placed into context, its importance emerges, if you let it.  Not for everything, certainly, but for more of this somewhat exotic existence than I ever expected.

Last night I went with friends to celebrate their son’s receipt of his first siddur – prayerbook.  It is a remarkable event.  In advance, parents come to school and decorate the books’ cover; the kids wear crowns with prayers on top, there’s a long performance full of the child’s version of many of the traditions and they dance and sing and tell us what they will contribute to the future.  Parents and siblings and sleeping infants and grandparents are gathered to watch, in a balloon-decorated room with cupcakes and apple juice waiting in the back.

Of course, all this is a kind of indoctrination.  But what I’ve realized is that I think any child rearing of merit imparts values as this ceremony does.  In this case, the gift of prayer is celebrated, and being old enough to become, at least a bit, master of one’s own prayers is pretty cosmic.  Most Orthodox ceremonies I’ve been part of celebrate this gift and the journey of our emerging relationships with God, each in our own way.

But as I remember taking my kids to marches, and boycotting Nestle, and raising them on Pete Seeger and the Weavers and politics all the time, well – that was a form of indoctrination too.  And we were determined that they would receive the values that we thought most important, and be raised with a keen sense of right and wrong in political as well as personal terms.  Now, of course, they’ve modified all that to suit themselves, as they should.  But they had a set of values to push up against, as their father used to say.  Instead of prayers, the signs in their school said “Each one, teach one” and every kid had a task to contribute to the community.  Not so different, just not Godly.

I know that we are a secular nation, and that many American Jews live highly secular lives.  I did too.  But somehow, we found our way here.  Tonight I’ll light Sabbath Candles and feel the quiet peace that comes with them.  And I’ll be grateful not only for that but for the grace and love of the parents who invited me to share in their son’s celebration, and who have so often provoked me to think harder and struggle more to understand this life I’ve chosen.  And have taught both of us so much.  Believe me, I’m at least as surprised as you are by my reactions, but as long as that continues, I know I’m keeping faith with the name of this blog, along with the larger faith I seek.

Shabbat Shalom.