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ruchikoval

Uncategorized January 26, 2012

Inside the Mind of an Orthodox Worrier

Did you think that if someone has faith in God, they stop worrying?  Oh me oh my no.

I happen to have been blessed without the worry bone.  Sometimes I wonder if I am, in fact, a Jewish mother.  (As it turns out, I am.)  But I find that many, many folks have it, big time.

Here’s how the mind of a religious worrier works; by way of explanation, the word “Hashem” is used herein to denote “God”  – it’s a respectful Hebrew reference.

From an email I received last week:

This morning I was thinking about this adorable newborn baby I saw
in Macy’s last week. He was in a stroller, hat falling down over his one
eye and he was just watching me as I walked by. It really struck me how
this baby has no worries whatsoever. He doesn’t know that there is
anything in life to worry about and all his needs are currently being
met by his loving parents who were both by his side. 


So I said to myself, this is how we are suppose to feel when we
know (really know) that Hashem [God] is taking care of us, just like a loving
parent. We shouldn’t worry, right?


Then I started thinking, at this newborn’s young age, he really
doesn’t have free will and therefore his parents (provided they are
normal) wouldn’t punish him in anyway or deprive him of anything. 


Then I started thinking that I have free will and therefore how
Hashem relates to me depends on my free will choices; whether I get His
blessings or a nudge to move me in the certain direction, or G-d forbid,
something much greater then a just a nudge to propel me in a completely
different direction.  (G-d forbid, loss of job, change in health, divorce
or death, G-D FORBID!).


So unlike this newborn whose parents only shower him with love and
good things, what Hashem showers me with all depends on my free will
choices.


Emuna [faith].. it’s all ultimately in Hashem’s hands, but I have to use my
free will to make the best choices all the time so that Hashem will
treat me favorably. 


On the other hand, I’m taught that if I’m meant to lose my job,
I’ll lose it regardless of how good a job I do and vice-versa. 
Several
years ago, my boss kept me on when from a practical standpoint most
employees would have laid me off because work was so slow. I thought he
kept me on because he figured I’d get busy again and then he would have
an experienced employee on staff (not so easy to find in my field). Maybe
that was his thinking. A religious friend of mine said maybe he kept you on
because Hashem felt paying me was like his tzedakah [mitzvah of charity].


When do I ever know if I’ve used my free will properly or to the
fullest? Have I been kind and sensitive enough to my family, co-workers? Have a given my employer his money’s worth? Have I used my money in
ways that Hashem wants me to? Have I used my speech properly, have I
davened [prayed] enough? Have a taken good enough care of my body, this vessel
that He has given me on loan?


I believe that Hashem controls everything and I believe that
everything is for the good. But doesn’t my free will effect how Hashem
chooses to treat me? 


I kind of feel like I’m going around in circles with my thinking.
So…does faith make worry easier, or more complicated?

Uncategorized January 25, 2012

Holocaust Survivor Grandparents and Being Orthodox

Poll:
1. Are you Orthodox?
2. Are your grandparents survivors?
3. If you’re not Orthodox, were your grandparents born in America?
I’m trying to decide if there’s a correlation.
What do you think?

(Scroll to the end of the comments for my findings.)

Uncategorized January 23, 2012

Half-Judaism

Some Jews say:

Why do I need to worry about all these commandments?  I’ll just be a good person and not bother others.  I don’t steal, kill, or commit adultery.  Really, that’s what matters in the grand scheme of things. 

Other Jews say:

The important thing, what makes us Jewish, is our relationship with God.  Prayer, kosher, Shabbat – these are the central Jewish tenets and hallmarks of religiosity.

I say:

You’re both half-right, and you’re both wrong.  You’re both incomplete.  And you’re each only tapping into half-Judaism.

Uncategorized January 23, 2012

The Roseto Secret of Longevity

Date trees, in isolation, produce dates that are sterile,
not sweet, and not marketable.  Date
trees planted in groves, specifically where the branches are intertwined,
produce sweet and delicious dates.
In Roseto, Pennsylvania, a startling discovery was made in
1966.  People in that town were living
significantly longer than in any other city in America, even in adjacent
Pennsylvania towns.  They died of heart
attacks at a rate only half of the rest of America.   
What gave? 
 
They weren’t eating healthier or exercising – but the residents of this
town had one thing its neighbors did not: community.  This was largely a town of Italian
immigrants, where the elders sat out on front porches and everyone took
responsibility for one another.  This
appeared to be the direct cause of the remarkable longevity of the people of
Roseto.
Dates, people: we need each other.  Our very survival depends on it.
On my recent trip to Israel, I decided to stay after the
tour was over for two extra days to shop, pray, and visit.  I didn’t make firm plans with anyone,
preferring to be an independent agent and let my day unfold organically. 
The first day, I was heady with freedom.  I walked wherever I wanted, ate wherever I
pleased and whenever I was hungry, reveled in having no one expect me to be
anywhere.  For a working mom, this was so
completely and radically different from my daily existence that I was quite
literally drunk with joy.
 
The second day, I tried the same gig.  But it didn’t feel good anymore.  I felt unloved; unmoored.  Unneeded, ignored.  Anonymous, even rejected.  I craved my peeps.  When I made my way to the airport much later,
I practically hugged every one of my friends at the airport (okay, I did
actually hug them all).  I felt like a
hungry person who just found a meal.  A
warm, hot meal, cooked with love and served on a pretty plate.
Hey, I get that I’m an extrovert.  An introvert might enjoy the solitude for
longer than I did.  But I suspect the
feelings I experienced would eventually surface as well.
Dates… people…
What are your experiences with living in a community?
With
appreciation to Dr. David Pelcovitz, a remarkable human being, and his poignant
words at the AJOP Convention last week in Stamford, Connecticut.
Uncategorized January 19, 2012

My Jerusalem

My Jerusalem is
gold
wet stones
copper sunshine in the morning
prayerful words, fighting their way to my lips.
Grapefruit and pomegranates, and
the most passionate people of the four corners of the earth
converging, colliding, headily.
My Jerusalem is
Ma nishma?
Yalla!
Boker tov!
My Jerusalem is
raw emotion, tears – from where??, a soaring love that
threatens to break out of me,
beautiful people and beautiful art,
soulful words, scribbled on construction sites.
Taxis filled, bursting, with the personalities of their
oh-so-colorful drivers.
My Jerusalem is
Shabbat Shalom
and
Baruch Hashem.
My Jerusalem is
far.
Away.
Uncategorized January 18, 2012

Ask the Rabbi

I’m a huge believer in everyone acquiring a mentor for
themselves – in spirituality.  I have a
number of mentors.  Some are men, some
are women.  Some are relatives, some are
friends, and some are neither.
But I have only one Rabbi.
The word “Rabbi” is an English word that comes from the
Hebrew word “Rav.”  Rav means “great.”  It refers
to someone that is great – great in Torah knowledge, great in character traits,
great in wisdom and great in kindness.  Torah
leadership is characterized by the synthesis of those features: Knowledge and
ethics are indivisible.  The Torah is
full of character sketches of those that were great in Torah knowledge but not
character – they are not our heroes.
Our Rabbi is wise, humble, self-effacing.  He is spiritual and lives oh-so-simply.  He is straight as an arrow.  Ethereal, yet totally gets our world.  I honestly cannot imagine life without his guidance.  We ask him questions ranging from a point of
minutiae in Jewish law, advice on budgeting for our new home, whether it’s
ethical to forward an email without permission, and how to navigate family
conflicts.  We ask him how much to push
our kids and when to chill out, how to balance our adherence to Jewish law with
the widely divergent observance level of our friends, and whether it would be a
violation of the laws of lashon hara (not to gossip)
to share a story for a greater cause.
In the Orthodox world this concept is known as daas Torah – literally, the wisdom of
Torah.  It refers to the special insight
a person cultivates when they learn and live Torah.   Likewise, there is a broad range of how
often and how much any given person relies on their Rabbi’s advice and
guidance.  In the Chassidic world, there
is a more intense and closely bonded relationship, whereas in other points along the Ortho-spectrum the relationship might be less intense.  
It may come as a surprise that the Rabbis don’t control the
intensity of the relationship – the “student” does.  As well, the “student” controls who his/her
Rabbi will even be.  I remember people
asking me whether my Orthodox Rabbi “allows” me to do this or that.  I laughed; my Rabbi doesn’t allow or disallow
anything.  He is a public servant, not
its taskmaster.  My Rabbi only tells me
what to do if I ask and then I can go home and do whatever I want.  Nope, no 1984-type surveillance as far as the
eye can see…
So how to choose a Rabbi?
Many people choose their Rabbi one of two ways: by
inheritance (who married your parents or officiated your bar mitzvah).  Or, by association with a synagogue.  People join a synagogue for lots of reasons,
and the Rabbi comes along with the picture. 
Few actually “Rabbi-shop,” in search of a life mentor – but that’s the
course I recommend.
What to look for when Rabbi-shopping?
1.      
Character.
Any Rabbi worth his salt ought to be a
living example of Torah.  This includes:
honesty, kindness, scholarship, wisdom, selflessness, truth, humility. 
2.      
Spirituality.
I want a Rabbi that has a closer
relationship with God than I do.  I want
a Rabbi who talks to God on a regular basis, who continues his education daily,
pursuing Torah study (as a student, not just as a Rabbi), who recognizes that
Jewish learning never ends.  I want a
Rabbi whose faith is so strong and unwavering that when I need encouragement
and strengthening, he reminds me, both in word and in shining example, what a
man of faith looks like.
3.      
Respect.

To maintain a relationship with a
Rabbi-as-mentor, there must be mutual respect. 
I must feel that my Rabbi respects me, wherever I happen to be on my
Jewish journey, and that I respect him.

4.      
Accessibility.

If I am going to be relying on my
Rabbi to help me navigate life decisions, my Rabbi needs to be accessible.  My Rabbi in particular happens to be of the
more old-fashioned variety – my husband walks into the study hall where he
studies Torah and asks him questions any day of the week.  Or we just call him at home.  He’s come over to our home on a dime to
discuss an issue.  A Rabbi that is not
accessible is like a fabulous diamond locked in a safe.

5.      
Life’s wisdom proven over time.

True Torah leaders are neither
elected nor hired.  They arise
organically, by virtue of one person at a time recognizing brilliance, caring
and greatness.  Each time we ask our Rabbi
a question we are overwhelmed anew with his sheer piety, insight, and spiritual
connectedness – as well as his genuine caring for us and our small issues.  Each encounter is another layer of gift wrap,
reminding us how very blessed we are to have a person like this in our lives.

—-

Who is my Rabbi?  I shan’t tell.  He would never want to be publicly praised,
and I surely would never want to embarrass him. 
But with this I’ll close: if you are fortunate enough to have a Rabbi
that fills the above criteria, please know that you have a precious treasure in
your midst.

And if you don’t, please know that
the quest to find one is possibly the most important one you’ll ever undertake.

Uncategorized January 17, 2012

Poll Results: How many Orthodox people do you know?

My month-long poll on the homepage just ended, and here are the results:

88 people responded.

Of those, 27 people (30%) say “most of my friends and relatives are Orthodox.”

37 people (42%) say “I know a number of Orthodox people well.”

15 people (17%) say “I know a few, but not well.”

And the smallest group, 9 respondents (10%) say “none personally.”

I find this very exciting, because if 27% of the respondents are saying they don’t really know Orthodox Jews personally, hopefully this blog is an opportunity to learn about us Orthodox folks in a real way – not in media-hyped or Hollywood-puffed fashion.

Also: the comments that those very 27% post, are being read by the 72% who are very comfy in the Orthodox world, which means the insight is traveling both ways.  (For the number-geeks out there, the percentages are rounded, hence the 99% total.)

And that, my friends, will hopefully be the beginning of the Bridge… the one that will draw us nearer to one another as a People.

I can hardly wait.