More Questions

I've been thinking a lot about my religious practice since coming to Israel, not surprisingly, but it has been more on the front of my mind now that I am returning to the States in about 2 weeks. After spending Shabbat in Ra'anana (a small city north of Tel Aviv) with a friend, I have realized how ambivalent I am about the question. I know that Judaism plays a central role in my life and that religious observance is important to me, I am just not quite sure how I see that playing out. I don't think I really identify as a Reform Jew anymore, but I also do not feel bound by halakhah. I do know that I love traditional kabbalat shabbat services, and I'm not sure where I will find that in Seattle. I also know that I will not be able to continue being shomer shabbat in the US. I'm not even sure I would want to, if I felt that I could.

In a previous post I wrote about some of the wonderful non-egalitarian services that I have attended here, but I am realizing that it is not so easy to find in Israel, either. I went to two different shuls in Ra'anana and I had problems with each. Again, it wasn't the mehitzah that I found troubling, it was the atmosphere and, I think, the role that women play in the Orthodox community. On Friday night, it was a side-by-side mehitzah, and on Saturday (at a South African synagogue) women sat in the balcony. I was really frustrated with the fact that the women hardly participated in either. I could only really hear myself and Deborah singing (aside from the men, of course). And I could not see, and could barely hear, the guest rabbi's dvar because he was speaking to the men's side of the room. I found the energy at the South African shul to be much better, but I had trouble getting past the fact that I was above watching the men, making me feel as though I was not really involved in the service, but a mere observer.

I think I was also turned off by the South African shul because of the shiur given by the rabbi after the service. The portion was Jethro, and he juxtaposed Jethro to the Amalek kingdom from the previous chapter. He basically said that these are the two ways in which gentiles can act towards the Jews, the former being those who look out for the best interests of "Am Yisrael" (the people of Israel) and the latter being those who try to destroy the Jewish people. He then compared the Nazis to Amaleks and talked about the disproportionate reaction by the international community to Israel's actions in Gaza. I got really frustrated with his comparison to the Holocaust, not because I think it is unfounded. I'm not entirely sure why it frustrated me so much, perhaps it has something to do with how the Holocaust is so much a part of the Israeli consciousness and it acts as such an emotional trigger for most all Ashkenazik Israelis. I felt as though the rabbi could have just as easily made his point without the reference.

I was also frustrated with his crticism of the international community. He seemed to imply that the criticism was based on anti-semitism and completely unfounded, that Israel was unfairly being portrayed as the "bad guy" but really had no choice in its actions. This position is common throughout Israel, so I'm not surprised that he said it, but I take issue with it. At the very least, I take issue with the fact that any criticism of Israel is automatically associated with anti semitism or a wish for the demise of the Jews. It leaves no room for discussion.

Going back to the question of religious practice, it seems clear that I know what I like (and don't like) in terms of praying, but I am still trying to figure out my level of observance in everyday life. I have been thinking about this a lot, but I think after this Shabbat I am able to articulate it much better. I love the idea (or the essence or the purpose) of Shabbat - a day of rest - but I tend to find it to be much more stressful when I am in a traditionally observant setting. Why? I thought it might be because I didn't know everything that I could or could not do. But I have been in the situation enough times now to be comfortable with what is kosher.

I have decided that what I find most problematic (and now that I say this, it sounds like a "well, duh" sort of statement) that the effort of separating Shabbat from the rest of the week has gone too far. If I am going to follow the letter of the law, it will be impossible for me to capture the spirit of it. If I have to make sure to have pre-ripped toilet paper or not to rip or cut my finger nails, it has gone too far. I slept in the living room over Shabbat and the lights were on an automatic timer, but they couldn't remember when the timer was set for. The lights went out just before midnight, but I basically had to wait and hope that they would actually go out. And then, what if I had wanted to keep reading? I guess I could have gone to the bathroom because that light stays on throughout the night.

I love that I make a conscious decision not to worry about my scholarship essays and that I go for a day without checking my email, but all of the small injunctions meant to sanctify the day often end up creating a level of tension that I find off putting. It is helpful that I've been able to define what I like more concretely and that I will have the flexibility to create a Shabbat space that I feel comfortable with in the States. With this approach I could easily be accused of just picking and choosing, that I am just doing what I like or what is convenient. I guess my argument would be that I am doing what is spiritually fulfilling, what deepens my connection to my faith. It is not necessarily what is easiest, it is what is most meaningful.