Sorry, readers, for the LOONG lag in blog posts. Between Passover, my kids being off, getting back to all my responsibilities after the long break, and getting to my spring cleaning that I didn’t choose to do before Passover – I haven’t actually even sat in front of a real computer in days. Thanks to those of you that let me know you’ve missed my posts – that means the world to me!
Tuesday evening I taught a class for a local group of young Orthodox women in their early 20’s called “Finding and Keeping Your Soulmate.” I started the class by asking them, “Why are we here on this earth? What’s the point?” They knew the answer I was looking for: to grow.
What does it mean to grow? To be a grower? To get into the mind of a “grower,” here is an unsolicited email I received from a friend of mine who became religious in her adult life. She had had a great day, and just wanted to share it with me and few friends. It tells clearly what the life of a “grower” looks like. [Note: “Hashem” is a Hebrew term for God.]
for an amazing day. I didn’t go anywhere special or meet anyone famous
and actually it was a very difficult, stressful day, but the greatness
and the pleasure was in the difficulty and “ordinary” day.
to get to work. I discovered this past year that I have a very strong
work ethic, which is good. A top priority in my life is to stay on top of my work, give my clients top service, try to get as much done in a
day as possible and bill as many hours as I can (to make money). I
realized yesterday when I was davening (but while my thoughts were on work) that if I put 1/100th of the drive, passion and energy into serving Hashem and grabbing mitzvahs,
as I do trying to satisfy clients and bill, I’d be in a lot better
shape. SO, I was/am so grateful to see this so clearly. Now I have
to figure out how to channel that drive into my service to Hashem.
appointment when someone from my office called to tell me she made a
major mistake and sent out 28 letters over my signature that should not
have gone out. At first I was like “OH NO” and then I just dealt with
it. When I got to the office a few people were talking to her, so she
and I didn’t talk. She left work shortly after that and I didn’t get to
even say hello to her. I called her because I wanted her to know that I
wasn’t avoiding her or upset with her. I’ve made lots of mistakes in my
lifetime and wanted her to know that it was just a mistake. I left her a
message and she was so appreciative. If the roles were reversed and she
hadn’t said hi to me or spoken to me about the mistake, I think I would
have felt so much worse.
tooth was “hot.” I needed a lot of Novocaine and some of it dripped down
my throat causing a sensation (or perhaps reality) that I couldn’t
swallow. It was a very scary feeling. When I spoke, my voice sounded to
me like I swallowed helium, although the dentist said I sounded like my
normal self. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I started
talking to G-d. I asked for His help and told Him I knew He was with me.
I pictured that image that is often used of Him holding me in His arms
and comforting me like a baby. Thank G-d, there was no panic attack and I
got through it ok. It’s painful today physically, but I felt such a connection to Hashem.
weeks, so the stress (that I put on myself) is pretty high right now. I davened that Hashem
should give me the clarity to work through a complicated matter at
work and do so efficiently. To my great surprise, I had an awesome day
at work! Hashem gave me clarity in areas that I didn’t have before and I was able to get a lot done.
birthday today. I stepped out of line only for a minute and when I got
back 2 people pushed my cart aside and went in front of me. I was upset
for about a half a second and then realized, it’s an express lane,
moving quickly, I left my cart, they had no idea how long I’d be
gone and they had every right to go ahead of me. But I decided to go to
another lane anyway, which was now shorter.
heavy man with a cane in a wheelchair cart in front of me. I wasn’t
sure how he was going to get his items onto the conveyor. I’m never sure
if I should offer help in these situations or not; does the person
appreciate the help or do they want their independence? I leaned over
and asked him if I could help him and he was so appreciative. The person
in front of him took quite some time to check out so he and I had such a
nice conversation. We laughed about a number of things and talked about
his favorite candy bar, as I got one off the shelf for him. I was
thanking Hashem privately for giving me the opportunity to have this interaction with him. It felt so special. I really felt I was living Hahem’s will.
which he shared with me in depth. I felt such pleasure and pride in him
and the way he handled the challenges. I was feeling so blessed to have
him as my husband (which thank G-d, I feel often).
SO, I went to sleep, reliving my day and thanking Hashem for all of it. It felt like a day that Hashem was very happy with. I know I was!
I don't know if the email describes religious growth. It certainly describes a person who has developed an ability to deal with situations in a clearheaded manner, who is kind and understanding towards others, and who is able to see the glass as half full (one of my favorite cliches, no, really). If religion can help her achieve this level of maturity, that's wonderful, but I don't think religion is a prerequisite for this kind of "growth".
Personally, I need Torah for this. I wasn't looking at life this way before and didn't view my choices and reactions the way I do now. Torah keeps me striving for growth. Secular life didn't at all.
I think a big difference in how I experienced the day was the tremendous pleasure I felt looking back over the day. Before I was observant I would have thought "what a lousy day. Problems at work, a scare at the dentist's office, allot of pain, didn't get through the grocery store as fast as I wanted, etc.". But as I laid in bed that night (in allot of pain from my trip to the dentist), I experienced such deep pleasure and found myself thanking G-d for such a great day.
I can imagine that Ruchi considers this "growING" and not finished "growTH" because the writer constantly makes an effort to reframe things to see the good opportunity in them, mostly by way of seeing it as God giving her that opportunity and benefit. I can see how viewing the events in one's life as God-managed would make it easier to perform that reframing, kind of automate it even. But still it sounds like a lot of effort in this email.
My relatives in Alcoholics Anonymous try to think this way too, I notice. Sometimes I feel like they are trying to 'reprogram' themselves to be this way. I don't mean 'reprogram' pejoratively (I see myself as someone who is 'programmed' to think negatively), but I do mean that it is a sort of attempt to remake one's own way of looking at things from the outside in. Maybe this is what religion does, Jewish or otherwise? I don't know. I guess, thinking about it, that the people I know in AA are the most spiritually committed people I know, period.
Do Os go to AA? It has a really strong basis in Christian theology, from what I understand, although you don't officially have to believe in any God, they say. But a lot of the moves are pretty Protestant I think.
Well, no one is done growing. As long as there's life, there can and should be growth.
As far as AA, it's interesting you mention that. I find that when (non-O) Jews have been through it, they are so much more likely to consider Jewish spirituality. As far as Os, yes, they go, but some are uncomfortable meeting in churches, so that can be a sticking point. Larger Jewish communities now have Judaism-based 12-step programs for all kind of addictions.
I don't remember people around me talking about growing before I became religious. Now they do. Of course, I'm older now and so are my friends, so maybe that's the difference. But even now, the non-religious people I know don't seem to talk about it. It seems to me that being open about wanting to improve is more common in Orthodox society, and being around people who are openly trying to improve encourages me to try as well. Although there's nothing exclusively Jewish about self-improvement (and AA is definitely a program of growth and self-improvement), Judaism demands it. It tells us that we have a responsibility to grow.
If you want to know about how 12-step groups fit in with Orthodox Judaism, read something on the subject by Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski. He's a psychiatrist specializing in addictions, and he's written many, many books about self-esteem and self-improvement. He's all in favor of 12-step programs, which he considers relevant even for non-addicts (obviously with some modifications, but the principles are the same). I don't know the theology behind AA, but his version is extremely consistent with Judaism.
But even now, the non-religious people I know don't seem to talk about it. It seems to me that being open about wanting to improve is more common in Orthodox society, and being around people who are openly trying to improve encourages me to try as well.
I don't know- I'm not Orthodox, but I've had regular conversations with other, non-Orthodox people about personal growth and improvement, both in the sense of religious observance and in the sense of mussar-type stuff. I think that is very much dependent on the company you keep- the non-Orthodox (and non-Jewish, for that matter) world is large and diverse, and self-improvement is a huge focus for a lot of people.
It also depends on how you define "religious." It is NOT synonymous with Orthodox, as we've discussed often here. But I wonder if the key is in DG's qualifier "openly." I do think that religious people (of all faiths) are more comfortable being open about the concept of "growing" even with people they don't know very well. Would you agree?
Thank you for clarifying, Ruchi. Yes, I did mean religious and not Orthodox. Also, Diplogeek, my guess is that converts are more interested than average in growth. After all, if you want to stay static and be governed by inertia, you're unlikely to convert.
Touché, Ruchi and DG- you would think that I of all people would keep in mind that "religious" isn't synonymous with "Orthodox" (after all, it isn't in my own case). And that's probably a fair point about converts, although in my case, I'm certainly as tempted by inertia as anyone else.
That said, I do have friends and acquaintances who are completely secular and largely non-Jewish, and a lot of them do place an emphasis on personal (and often professional- we hear about this one a lot in my line of work) growth. It's just articulated differently than it tends to be in religious circles (any religious circles, Jewish or otherwise). I think in the secular milieu, growth tends to be couched in terms of self improvement, self esteem and community service. I'm thinking in particular of things like volunteerism, weight loss, making healthier lifestyle choices and so on, but it can apply to all kinds of things. Look at the concept of a "bucket list": what is that if not a secular method of setting goals for personal growth? The approach and verbiage is different, but the ultimate goal- new, usually challenging experiences for the sake of bettering oneself and, often, the world around us- isn't entirely different from what we're talking about in the Jewish context. I'll also acknowledge that I'm in a field that tends to attract a high percentage of highly-motivated, Type A people who may be both more inclined toward goal setting and self-improvement and more interested in positively engaging with the world around them.
Now, whether these similarities are the result of individual agency or G-d's nudging everyone, religious or not, in the direction of growth because that's what he wants for all human beings is a different question.
Well, professional growth seems to me more selfish-oriented, like with its own external rewards. Which is not bad at all, but not what I had in mind as far as being a "growing" person. Nor, tesyaa, did I intend to mean "growth" in terms of ritual Jewish observance. There was nothing in the original post about that. And bucket lists can easily be quite selfish-driven.
My bucket list, for instance, is probably half-selfish (I want to see all 50 states, learn to play the guitar) and half "growthful" (volunteer for the Jewish burial society).
Sometimes you have to be selfish to grow, though, including religiously. If I start fully keeping kosher, for instance, or being stricter in my kashrut observance, that presents a huge inconvenience for a number of people besides myself: my family, at whose homes I can no longer eat without doing some serious preplanning, my friends, who have to be willing to go to a kosher place (which is usually significantly more expensive) if we want to go out to dinner somewhere, my (hypothetical) husband and kids, who have to be willing to adjust to multiple sets of dishes, no longer purchasing certain foods without hechshers, et cetera. Particularly if someone doesn't "get" why you're making this decision, it comes off as hugely selfish to a lot of people. Just not eating pork and shellfish, on my part, forces my friends to worry about what they're ordering if we go out to dinner- they're all great about it, but the fact is that it inconveniences them in a way they wouldn't be if I were willing to just eat whatever.
Shabbos observance is similar. "Sorry, I can't keep doing stuff with you on Saturdays, unless you want to come to my place." Or, in the case of Yom Tov, "Sorry, we can't visit during Pesach anymore, even though we know it makes you really happy, because between the kashrut and Yom Tov issues, it just won't work." Now, of course, we don't see that as selfish, because it's people growing in observance and doing what G-d wants them to do, but ultimately, if you're going to make a lot of the aspects of Jewish observance work, you eventually have to reach a point where you decide that your personal standard of observance, and your relationship with Hashem are more important than how much your parents might be hurt if you no longer eat at their house or how much your family might miss having you go to their synagogue on Yom Kippur, or whatever. You see these struggles playing out on places like Beyond BT and Jew In the City all the time. I had to make a selfish decision to convert because that was what I needed spiritually, even though I know it hurt my mother that I was rejecting the religious upbringing she had given me. Does that mean that my conversion was not an instance of personal or spiritual growth?
I don't think that focusing on your development as a human being, be it religious or otherwise, is necessarily an inherently selfish thing, because who you are is going to affect everyone who interacts with you. Gaining a better understanding of cultures by traveling, while obviously beneficial to the individual, is still ultimately productive on a larger scale if you act on it. In my case, professional development as a diplomat means that I'm better equipped to help American citizens abroad, have a better understanding of the laws surrounding visa issuance, which are designed to protect my country and so on.
Wait, so does your final paragraph suggest that even religious growth that inconveniences others is still actually unselfish?
I'm saying that personal growth, even if it is focused primarily on oneself (i.e. weight loss, keeping kosher, et cetera) as opposed to one's interactions with others, is not automatically selfish. Someone who loses a lot of weight may be better equipped to play with their children or support their family. A physician who learns a new surgical technique and improves herself professionally is better equipped to save lives. I don't think it's as black and white as you make it out to be- it's not a binary equation. As far as religious growth that inconveniences others, I think that for people who take that route, the decision to be selfish about those issues and prioritize one's religious needs over, say, a family member's desires, is outweighed by the belief that they are doing what Hashem wants of them. But certainly, people make selfish decisions based on religious motivations all the time- just look at that last post about whether or not to go to the father-in-law's shul. But I don't think it's a terribly popular position to take, pointing out that making the choice to place religion over family or other people is, in some aspects, a selfish decision.
I also don't think that religious people are necessarily more open or spend more time thinking about growing as human beings than secular people- in some cases, the religious people I know are more hesitant to push their own boundaries and have new experiences for fear that something will conflict with their spiritual worldview. I think the terminology in the secular world is slightly different than it is in the religious, but the drive toward improving oneself and one's interactions with others is ultimately the same.
Right, I agree, but I think ANY growth that's admirable has to be holistic. If the religious person is hurting others with his growth and doesn't care, that's troubled growth. If the physician who learns a new surgical technique is ignoring his family's needs while saving the world, that's troubled growth.
But what if you do care but do it anyway because you think keeping kosher or saving lives is more important?
if you think that you are growing, and you are getting pushback from other people in your life that it is negatively affecting them, then you need to turn to a trusted objective person in your life who can help you decide if this is growth or selfishness.
I (unsurprisingly, contrarian that I am) disagree, again, because I don't think it's that black and white. In my case, I first brought up the prospect of conversion to Judaism with my mother when I was about fourteen. It did not go well. At all. In retrospect, I could have picked my moment better, probably, but the exchange had enough of an effect on me that I tried to sublimate my need to be Jewish for almost five years afterward. I went to church, I tried everything I knew to convince myself to buy in, I did everything I could, but it didn't work. I didn't believe, a church wasn't where I needed to be, and as soon as I went to college, I started going to synagogue.
I agonized over the decision to convert- not because of any doubt as to what I was supposed to be doing or where I was supposed to be or who I was supposed to be, but because of what I thought it might do to my mother and my relationship with her. I actually would have gone to the mikvah and not told her (at the time- obviously, I wasn't going to keep it a secret) if it weren't for a phone conversation that we happened to have about a week before my beit din. She started bringing up the religion issue again, and I finally told her that if we were going to continue to have a meaningful relationship, she was going to have to accept this aspect of who I am, because I couldn't keep fighting anymore, either with myself or with her. This is ten years of thought and consideration and inner turmoil we're talking about here- and to my mother's credit, she has been much more supportive since then, which I know hasn't always been easy for her.
So… what do you call that? "Troubled growth"? Selfishness? Should I have just abandoned Judaism, something I can't imagine living without- something I somehow knew that I was drawn to when I was eight years old- because it upset my mother? I don't think so, and I've thought about this a lot. You can give as much thought and consideration as possible to the feelings of other people, but ultimately, if you can't live with yourself, you're probably not going to be very much help to anyone else. And my case is one of the better ones- I know a number of converts who were disowned by their families as a result of their decision to convert, and much of the language was the same: you're being selfish, why won't you think of us, how can you do this to your parents, et cetera.
First, a word of deep respect for your journey.
What did you disagree with? Once again I think we agree. I said, "If the religious person is hurting others with his growth and doesn't care, that's troubled growth." Clearly, you CARED. And even when you decided to proceed anyway, you CARED. That's not troubled growth.
Diplogeek, this is a really impressive story. What a lot of reflection went into your conversion. I wonder what about Judaism was so attractive to you at such a young age (and where you encountered it).
To this day, I really can't explain it. I didn't grow up in an area with many Jews at all- I think there were maybe two in my grade in school, and I wasn't BFFs with them or anything. I have a crystal clear memory of reading a book about the Shoah, of all things, while riding home on the school bus at eight years old, and I just had this flash of… I don't know what. "Revelation" would seem to be overstating it a bit, so I'll just say that it was a sudden understanding that I wanted to be Jewish. I couldn't have articulated the conversion part then, because at that age, I had no idea that converting was something you could do- I just assumed that if you had the good fortune to have Jewish parents, great, but if your parents were Christian or Hindu or whatever, that's what you were, so you had to bloom where you were planted. I found out about conversion at age thirteen or so, when I had been growing increasingly frustrated with Christianity. The more I read about Judaism, the more I found myself saying, "Wait, I've always believed that! And I've always believed this other thing, too!" and I knew that conversion was what I wanted to do, but both my mother's reaction and life circumstances got in the way for a long time.
I think what finally pushed me to pull the trigger, already, beyond understanding that I couldn't just keep doing the semi-Noachide, living in limbo thing anymore, was when I got into the Foreign Service. This was right around the time several Consulate employees were murdered in Ciudad Juarez, and I remember reading about their deaths and thinking, "You know, I could be sent anywhere. I could go somewhere and die. And if my time is up, and I'm going out like that, I'm at least going out Jewish." I was e-mailing rabbis before I even went to D.C. for training. The incident in Benghazi and the recent death of Anne Smedinghoff have reinforced a certain sense of relief that whatever frustrations I may have on occasion with trying to live Jewishly in China or with the Conversion Issue™ or denominational infighting or whatever, I know I'm Jewish, Hashem knows I'm Jewish, and if something awful happens (G-d forbid), that's really what matters. Although admittedly, it's easier to keep that in mind at some times than at others.
And I guess the source of my disagreement is that if you asked my mother, there was a long time when she probably would have said that I didn't care about what my religious decisions were doing to her or how they were inconveniencing other people, when in fact nothing was further from the truth. But I'm not a super emotive person, most of the time, so maybe it didn't show, or I did a poor job of articulating my feelings (much as I think I'm doing a poor job of articulating my point here). So what can present to others as "troubled growth" may not actually be that. It's easy to say, of course, that people should communicate better and such, but sometimes it isn't that straightforward, either because the person who's growing can't clearly explain what's going on (there was a while when I definitely couldn't have given my mother a bulleted list titled, "Why Diplogeek Needs To Be Jewish," and in some ways, I still can't, because my religious experience, while highly academic and logical in some ways, isn't that way in its entirety), or because the person observing this growth isn't ready to hear it.
I really loved reading this.
That sounds so amazing, to know what you are and want to be even without knowing why.
In some ways it was (well, is). That experience, along with a handful of other incidents, is probably the primary reason that I believe in G-d. There's no other explanation for my reaction to that book, or none that I've considered that make more sense to me than some kind of…. I don't know, cosmic plan, or something (which sounds a little woo-woo for me, honestly, but I've definitely become more of a believer in the idea that sometimes things line up the way they're supposed to for people, even if it doesn't seem that way at the time).
On the other hand, it can be extremely difficult and gut wrenching. Something like that didn't give me any way to articulate why I felt so deeply that I was supposed to be Jewish- the closest comparison I can make, and this based only on conversations I've had with others, would be coming out and telling your family you're gay. It's not like you can say, "Oh, well, I've evaluated the various options, and this sexuality is best for me because of X, Y and Z." It's just part of your make up and who you are, and you couldn't change it if you wanted to. It would have been so much easier, in a variety of ways, if I had been able to say, "Well, here's an outline of why I'm choosing Judaism." And certainly, I can give lots of theological examples of where Judaism is (to me) more theologically sound than Christianity or Islam or whatever, but for me, the bottom line was always that I didn't choose Judaism so much as Judaism, for whatever reason, seemed to choose me. It's strange because usually, I'm more of a person to list out pros and cons and approach things fairly academically (and Judaism's academic bent is one of my favorite things about it, actually), but my initial move toward Judaism was very much an emotional one. I seem to remember telling someone once (maybe my rabbi?) that in a way, that actually made me take those feelings more seriously, because it's not often that I feel a pull like that, so it seemed like something that deserved my attention.
I actually still have that book that first piqued my interest in Judaism- I packed it out with the rest of my stuff a few months ago. And shortly after I converted, I happened to be at shul for evening minyan or something, which we sometimes hold in a smaller chapel that doubles as the library. I was looking through a shelf for a siddur, and there, plain as day, was that same book (which I think I got from some Random House book order form, which was why I had it on the bus). A little freaky, that!
Diplogeek, for those readers who aren't delving this far into the comments, may I interview you for a future post? I think people could learn so much from your experience.
Sure, that would be fine. You may already have it, but in case not, I'll send you my e-mail address.
I associate the self-conscious goal of "growing" with AA and new-age spirituality (to which I believe it is related), but maybe because that's the spirituality I have most contact with (not on purpose but by living situation). Still I wonder if "growing" isn't a relatively modern way to frame what religion and OJ is supposed to help us do. It just sounds so . . . modern. Like when people talk about "being on a journey" for (as Diplogeek indicates) weight loss or life in general. The language of growing and journey is old, but taking that language as THE model of what we do feels so new.
I'm not saying that Jewish practice wasn't always about cultivating aspects of our lives and soul (and as always on here, what do I know anyway), but "growing" feels like such a friendly, up-to-date, me-oriented way to describe that. Do Sephardi Jews elsewhere have that kind of angle? Chassids in Israel? Is it an American way to describe what you are trying to get people to do in increasing their Jewish practice?
In my experience, "growth" in Orthodox Jewish usage applies directly to increasing Jewish practice (as you say in your last sentence). Growth in tznius (for women), growth in chessed (for women), growth in learning (for men). But the post Ruchi put up describes an increase in maturity, acceptance and awareness of the needs of others. As I said in my first comment, that doesn't have to be related to religion. The original poster, a baalas tshuva, basically said in her response that she personally needed Torah to reach those levels of maturity and awareness. The fact is, she is also older and has been through many other experiences since she became religious. She attributes her "growth" to religion (and religion might have helped her "grow", certainly), but I don't think one can deduce this post that being more religiously observant leads to personal growth.
That opening explanation makes a lot of sense. The use of the term 'growth' instead of 'increase' or 'intensification' in Jewish practice makes it sound like an organic way of coming into what is natural and proper for us, as opposed to an artificial imposition onto natural ways of being. It fits with the O metaphysics, i.e. if you "grow" in some Jewish practice it is where you 'naturally' ought to be moving toward.
Maybe. Or maybe you are constantly fighting your nature, as many Torah texts both society and contemporary describe. Yes, SBW, the word "growth" in this way is contemporary, but I have found ancient Torah concepts of personal development to be remarkably contemporary. I can even remember, vividly, specific moments in my religious education where I was breathless at the cool contemporariness of some of the stuff we were learning. That's probably when I fell in love with Jewish learning.
Grrr auto-correct. That shoulda said "Torah texts both ancient and contemporary."
Tesyaa, I'm used to hearing Orthodox Jews talking about growth in terms of character development as well as greater religious observance. I agree with you that increased Torah study and modesty don't necessarily lead to character improvement (although they can be related to self-discipline and self-control, for instance). I think the idea is that character improvement is part of what Judaism expects of us, so it is religious growth.
SBW, I don't think it's natural at all. For me at least, it's natural to keep doing what I've been doing and give in to my emotions and desires.
DG, I guess I'm just pondering the word "growth" here. It does have a connotation of nature in my view, since living things can only "grow" into what they already by nature can become. Otherwise it would be better to use "increase" or "intensification" or "more observant" or just "more". "Growth" implies more in the sense of more of what should be the case. I can't figure out whether this is only a semantic issue or part of what rubbed me a little the wrong way about the post. Just a little, not a lot.
Sounds like a semantic issue, although if you're talking about "what should be," Judaism teaches us that we should improve, so maybe it still fits. It just isn't automatic.
"A major distinguishing feature between humans and animals is that animals are created in a state of completion, and their growth is essentially in size and strength. Their maturation follows a life cycle which is instilled within them, and any changes which may occur are the result of their genetic composition. Animals are unable, by volition, to make any material changes in themselves.
"Man has the capacity to make changes in himself. He is not an unalterable product of his genetic makeup…. In contrast to animals, man is not helpless insofar as his character is concerned, and he can make salutary changes in himself, even radical changes….
"Self-improvement presupposes that we know what the function of a person is. If his function is dependent on his physical prowess, then self-improvement will consist of increasing his muscular strength…. It is evident that implementing the capacity of self-improvement is dependent on … one's goal in life."
(Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski, MD, Twerski on Spirituality)
SBW, think of it in terms of "growing your skills as a musician," for example. Is that "natural"?