Forgive Me for my Drunkeness

     Though Purim is two days done, I still wanted to mention an interesting experience I had (and I'm not just talking about partying in Nachlaot). I had this incredible time dressing up and exploring the streets, seeing the religious communities I live in and often visit, in a more colourful light. I was happy to see happiness... something I often get drained from when only seeing black and white. But what made this Purim a truly inspiring event, turned out absent from my all my notebooks.

     After classes upon classes (from dissecting the Megillah to the halachot) and reading books on my own time (I loved The Miracles of Purim Part I and II by Rav Shlomo Brevda based off of commentary by the Vilna Goan), I was catching Rabbis and friends off guard with my new found knowledge. I felt great that in two weeks I had learned SO much about Purim I was teaching OTHER people. Not bad for a new Baalat teshuva. But, honestly, I was missing something. I didn't like how everything was so unilaterally focused on getting smashed, or conversely, the holiness of the day. I felt a disconnection between what I was learning and the festivities. I was told by some Rabbis that it had to be this holy, heightened and semi-normative experience OR by other Rabbis it was supposed to be this drunken chaotic mess. Either way, I was feeling a huge disconnect, and it was only growing the more I learned this day is supposed to be about Jewish unity. 

     And that's when Gd stepped in... and by Gd I mean that's when I serendipitously went to Rabbi Refson Jr.'s class, the last class before Purim break. Rabbi Refson sat down and started speaking about the spirituality of Purim. I was busy organizing my more... solid.... notes, while listing in on his passionate speech. Eventually, I focused my attention on his speech, as opposed to fiddling with my notes, because what he was saying to me started to seep in and resonate. 

     The sun fell, and Purim came in. I dutifully went to hear the entire Megillah, from first word to last, in all of its entirety, like I was taught. Instead of being tested on the ideas, Hebrew, and halcaha that I knew, I was tested in a much more interesting way. Ten minutes into this reading I was getting overwhelmed. I stifled a surprising swell of emotion and tears and had to stand up and pace in the back of the room. I often say the hardest thing about becoming religious is not being able to take back so many of the things I have seen or done. But more specific than that, it is the deep ball of regret that weighs you down. It is in the pit of your stomach, tearing at your insides. Even all the Yom Kippurim in the world can't lighten or relieve this feeling. That's why, when I heard the Megillah, I had to hold back this flood gate of tears. 

     Rabbi Refson had said that Purim is one of the holiest days of the year. In fact, after the Moshiach comes, the only two holidays that will be celebrated are Yom Kippur and Purim. I understand Yom Kippur, our day of repentance, but why Purim? Purim is the day when Hashem looks at us and says he accepts our prayers and loves us no matter how much we screw up (like the intermarrying and idol worship that took place during the time of the Purim story). Gd loves us and wants us to enjoy the world He has created and will save us when we seem unredeemable. So, while listening to our story, I realized even when I mess up pretty badly, and feel like all the Yom Kippurim in the world can't and won't fix my mistakes, I still have Purim to realize Hashem will always love me and THAT made my mistakes and regret a lighter load to carry. 

Shades of Gray

HOW I FEEL RECENTLY:

A Thousand Words

Sometimes I'm not in the mood to write all about what I'm learning, but still want to express it:

"Kotel Cries" 

I was davening at the Kotel, for the fifth day in a row, during Sukkos. I got to the Shmona Esrei, and as I was enunciating the Hebrew at a painstakingly slow rate, a women right next to me began to bawl her eyes out. I was annoyed. I was trying to daven! I couldn't concentrate. Eventually, I took a breath to look up and saw a small, newborn's hand in the crying woman's hand.  She was touching and kissing the wall. She took her baby's hand and put it against the cold stone and brought it to the infant's lips. It was a really beautiful sight, so a few days or weeks later, I found myself drawing the scene. 

"Kiddush Hashem- Rabbi Mintz"

Sometimes you think so hard during the day, your mind wanders off. As this great Tzadik spoke to us on kiddush Hashem, I couldn't concentrate on his words, so instead my notes on the subject ended up being a portrait of him. Close enough,

"Stone Flag"

Doodle of the Israeli flag layered with the kotel, and the prayer you say at the Kotel.

"People are always looking for the city of Happiness, but don't realize it is a state of mind."

-Rav Pam

"Metallic Malach" Oil and sharpie on Canvas. 

Represents an angel with six arms and six (metallic) wings holding a baby and overseeing the world. If your interested in why this picture came to me... in class we were talking about the "creations of Gd." But I began to think... a robot is a creation of man, just like a child is a product of man... robots have no choice, while humans have freewill. So whose stronger, human or robot? This parallels to Gd's servants (the angels). Who runs the world? Man or the Metallic angels?

Eilat

I was at the top of a mountain, looking towards a crystal blue sky, and mountains towering over two cities nestled into the beaches of the Yam Suf (Red Sea). My feet stood in Israel, but I could see Jordan ten miles off to my left and Egypt two miles off to my right. In the distance, where the sky met the sea, I could make out red and brown mountains which were the tail of Saudi Arabia. Four countries in one sweeping panorama. Taken aback from the marvelous view, I glanced toward the sea. Even on the mountain top, I could see the edge of the coral reef, unhindered by the distance and water. The rippling in the water caused vast shades of cerulean blue to mingle until it faded into the same white as the sand underneath the edges of the beach. The hotels and buildings towered over the edges of the beaches, looking like they were going to join their patrons for a swim. As the clouds started to block the late morning sun, we started down the mountain where the borders of all the countries became larger and larger, and I was swimming in a sea of rocks and dust as the view slowly started to fade away.

The Family Wish-Wash

I keep my blog tab open on Safari, but recently (aka: the last two months of my disappearance act) I haven't had much I wanted to publicly say. A huge struggle with becoming religious is the family and friends that you've "left behind."

Not so long after my last blog, I got in a huge argument with my 'rents and siblings. It felt like my world was crashing. It's really hard to be a teenager who is struggling for independence... but also understanding. I even felt alienated from my older brother, who also became religious, because he doesn't get me either. People can look from the outside and have an idea of how you feel and why your doing what you do... but ultimately everybody carries their unique baggage from the past, and is on the walk alone.

Long story short, I got in a fight with my parents over university and independence. Nearly got disowned... religion took the back seat this time. And while we, B"H, fixed everything, it's has been a very "emotional" two months for me, trying to work out my past and get a gage on where I'm headed. The one thing I think people forget to tell the newly religious, is that in the end... it's not the people you can't touch or the food you can or cannot eat in your parents house that causes all the strife. It's the turmoil left inside from your past experiences.

You can never un-see that movie you once saw. You will never be able to take back your first kiss or your last words. You can never change what made you who you were. FFB (frum from birth) kids have an advantage of being sheltered from certain things and experiences (to a degree). And while I CANNOT believe the words "sheltered" and "advantage" just came in the same sentence, out of my own thoughts, I have realized a frustrating truth.

No once becomes religious because everything in their life makes sense or is going perfect. You don't fix what ain't broken. And I think that outside my curiosity, I was looking to fix things with my family. I've always been a truth seeker and quite frankly, all truth seekers are rebels. I had my secrets and mischievous shenanigans going on while growing up, outside of family turmoil. But now, as I have found a solid platform to base my life off of (Judaism) I have been fixing some unresolved consequences of my rebellious nature. But the baggage I buried was never actually "out of sight, out of mind."

A while back I blogged a post called, "You Don't Need Therapy, You Need Yeshiva."Now I'm eating my own words. Torah is all about improving ourselves and humanity. But in order to do any of it, you need to look inside yourself. You can't help your neighbor if you can't help yourself. You can't connect to Hashem, if you can't see His presence within you. So, now, in the month of February, the midpoint of my year, I have come to a place where I am no longer learning for learning's sake... I'm learning to improve the world.

I have been blessed to have made a stronger foundation for my future, and while mapping out and moving all these "building blocks" is a pain, I am so happy I have made it through the dark winter months. Tu B'shvat was today, and in the spiritual nature of the holiday, the lifeline ("sap") of the trees is equivalent to the lifeline and direction where we are headed for the entire year. A good rain during winter, provides a strong sap to get the trees going the rest of the year. And I have had a good wash out of the negative stuff during the winter, and during the month of Shevet (the "whipping rod" month) I'm starting to effectively change what I don't like and improve what I need to.

Hopefully, the last fifteen days of Shevet will also give you the push and shove where you need to go in life to reach your full potential. May this find you all in good health.

Matisyahu and the Chanukah Story

I know I haven't been writing all that much recently. It is an amazing experience when you feel time contract and look at your watch wondering if you missed opportunity. I am currently working on a few blogs (one that is taking some time and another that needs more research). But what prompted me to write today was some interesting news: Matisyahu shaved off his beard.

The month of Kislev is the month of Orion, for you astrology fans, and of the tribe Binyamin. At the Sea of Reeds leaving Egypt, both Yehudah and Binyamin (with a strong sense of mesirus nefesh "self sacrifice") awaited a miracle from Hashem. Yehudah, however, preferred Hashem's presence to be displayed in a natural manner, while Binyamin wanted to extol Hashem's glory by having Hashem preform open miracles which transcended nature (Ryzman, The Wisdom in the Hebrew Months). But, this month is named after Binyamin, why? Hashem "moved the sea with a strong eastern wind and the entire night" (Shemos 14:21). With the open miracle taking precedence, so too does the rest of the month where the celebration of Chanukah occurs.

Matisyahu and his sons had the same type of mesirus nefesh as Binyamin, and declared a war beyond the physical battle. Hellenism was more or less today's version of "secular society." Or if you prefer something that doesn't touch too close to the American home, Communism of the early 1900s. The whole idea of these three types of society, is that it eradicates Torah [read: the fundamentals of Judaism] and institutes a nationalistic pride of Judaism, if you are lucky. But unlike the more recent influences, the Hellenistic battle was fought and won by none other than the famous Matisyahu (no, this time I'm not talking about the reggae rock star). When I speak about the battle of conserving Judaism, I mean the Judaism that has kept us Jews thus-far. Many Jews Hellenized and their descendants are still living, I'm assuming, however who can tell? They are now goyim, of the other nations. And of these other nations that have risen and fallen, Judaism is still here. It was saved during the era of Matisyahu because of Hashem, his will, and mesirus nefesh. And is celebrated because of the open miracles.

Speaking about miracles, Matisyahu, and Hellenism, the reggae rock star shaved his beard. I know, I know, I mentioned it before. But why do I bring it up in a blog about me, a Baalat Teshuva, and on a post that deals with Chanukah? To the non-frum viewers I guess I can explain the fight for Judaism in a different light (Chanukah pun). The physical battle against the Greeks was grand, and the spiritual battle over Hellenism was marvelous. Yet, just because we survived didn't mean everything was over. Over the centuries Jews have been maintaining their identity by internal cultural influences. If these cultures outside of us are trying to take away our beliefs, our Torah, then we fight by making our own culture. Nu? Following? So, we had our own language Hebrew, but on the streets Yiddish, Ladino, and the entire list of Judeo-*insert other language that surrounded the Jews here* were spoken. A certain dress style was adapted and the yummy cholent and lahoh followed (depending on country of origin). Judaism isn't an ethnic group or a culture. We are a nation united under Torah who created a variation of cultures to keep our identity.

However you choose to practice is quite frankly none of my business, but the things a Jews does effects the entire community. Way back in the day I went to a Reform summer camp called Eisner. When we went on field trips, I wondered why my notorious... friend (the camp director) got up and said we cannot do anything stupid. Not only illegal, immoral, and unpolitically correct, but stupid. He made a point even as Reform Jews, we were wearing a Magen David (Jewish Star) on our shirts. If we are Jews, despite none of us practicing halacha (let alone knowing what it was) or "looking like a Jew," we were responsible for the negative associations with "our people." It was either, "look at those nice, polite kids" or "those Jews can't raise their children right."

As a Reform Jew of thirteen I was asking myself why I had to act a certain way if I wasn't one of them. I knew who them were. I knew they were the ones that my friends compared me to when I said I was Jewish. They were the ones my school friends joked around about when they "woopty-dood" their fingers next to their ears. The black-hats and the Chassidism, they were all the same to me, they were simply them. So why did I need to act proper for the sake of "us" what ever that was. Because as far as I was concerned, I didn't dress like them, I didn't eat the same foods as them, I didn't throw in the "oy's" and "kinderlach's" around like they did, and half the time if they spoke I wasn't even sure if it was English! I. Am. Not. One. Of. Them!!!

Well, I got over it. I became proud to be a Jew. I was rockin' out to Matisyahu on my new Ipod in sixth grade, enjoying the beat boxing and reggae with the Jewish infusion. Mann, was I proud to be a Jew! This dude became religious (I mean, did you SEE his peyos and beard?!). Next time my friends joked around about me being Jewish, BAM, I had THIS GUY backing me up. He was cool, well versed, and his music was right up my ally. Well, Hashem loves a good laugh. My baggy guy-shorts have been replaced by skirts and his verses such as

"You're a slave to yourself and you don't even know, 

You want to live the fast life but your brain moves slow, 

If you're trying to stay high then you're bound to stay low, 

You want God but you can't deflate your ego (King Without a Crown)" 

and  

"In the ancient days, we will return with no delay, 

Picking up the bounty and the spoils on our way, 

We've been traveling from state to state, 

And them don't understand what they say, 

3,000 years with no place to be, 

And they want me to give up my milk and honey, 

Don't you see, it's not about the land or the sea, 

Not the country but the dwelling of His majesty (Jerusalem)" 

are now understood. I mean, rocking out to them in sixth grade was nice... but it's seven years later. I'm religious now. I am no longer a slave to myself. I'm out of the fast lane. I'm struggling with my ego. Israel is my home. From Russia to America, traveling state-to-state, my fathers have been conforming to the societies for 3,000 years, forgetting why they fled. And now, after my El-Al flight watching my plane's shadow cast over the Mediterranean Sea approaching Israel, I realize it isn't about the country... it's about the shechina, the dwelling of His majesty! I listened to Matisyahu on the plane here... and I opened my eyes. The words I was spewing along with were no longer meaningless, they were POWERFUL and true. 


Matisyahu's music had become my gage in religiosity. It started off as music and became my expression. Now that he has shaven off his beard for a more "modern" look, I look back on the journey I have undertaken. I still wear my eleven piercings proud. They represent so much more than the rebellious look, they symbolize my internal struggle between the secular and religious cultures. I blatantly dislike both. The religious and secular lifestyles are two opposite ends, extreme in their own manner. My secular parents hate my piercings and so does my Haredi brother. But, ironically I love them because they are exactly in the center. My tznious (modest) clothing expresses my desire to follow Hashem and his ways [read: NOT live in the secular world which is sold on sex]. My piercings express my desire to remain an individual and to keep what little of my past that hasn't already vanished [read: NOT the yeshivishe world where girls are judged based on the thickness of their stockings and any mistakes becoming a chillul Hashem (Desecrating G-d's name)]. I straddling the fine line every BT walks. And though Matisyahu has ten years on me, I think he walks that same line. But as my facebook status says so concisely, "I'm curious to see if he is breaking free from the cultural standards of the orthodox community, or breaking from the community itself... (...DON'T LEAVE ME!!!)"

Secularism, Science, and Sinai

          The article "Jews Survived Thanks to Brit Milah and Niddah" (featured on Ynetnews.com on today, 23/11/11) gave me that slight pang of frustration and anger at secularism. Now, I feel the strong need to preface this post with the inner-most truths of my mind: I am not anti-secular. I am merely "anti-the-secular-scholars-who-keep-trying-to-prove-Gd-or-Jewish-nationhood/survival-with-science-that-is-irrelevant-but-people-believe-because-it-has-the-words-"science"-or-"study"-attached-to-it-even-though-science-is-Gd's-creation-and-doesn't-prove-or-disprove-him-and/or-his-master-plan." And I believe that with some of my strong criticism of the Reform and secular Jewish movements people may have me pinned as "anti-secular," "anti-reform," or anti-what-have-you. Which, in truth, I am not. (In fact, I apologize for the excessive (possibly constructive) criticism on the secular movements in addition to my excessive this-ing-with-the-dashes). My point however remains, more simply put, as a question: What is with this constant "disproof" of Gd with science?

           Having suffered over a decade of public school, I have seen the vast majority of Atheists back-up their claim of a Gdless world by crying "science." Once I came to seminary all the teachers prove Gd with science and probability. Interestingly enough, I have learned more science (for better or for worse) here than I have in the last twelve years of public school (... don't get me started on the American public eduction system). However, I question the validity of science being the big call to Atheism, secularism, and doubt. Transitioning from the article's scientific angle to a more subjective style, by the author, this part in particular caught me off guard:

          "In Israel today you can be completely secular without affecting your Jewish identity. In the Diaspora there is no such thing. In recent generations, secular Judaism has been a way out of Judaism. But three things have allowed the existence of the Jewish people in the past, and in the future: The people, Torah and Gd."

          I was a little more than shocked to read this at the end of the article seeing as the man proving Jewish survival by science, Melvin Konner, had formally introduced himself as a man who grew up religious and went "off the derech." Which was even more shocking because he started off his findings by framing Jewish-survival on the premiss of Darwinism. Konner previously mentioned his distaste for extremism of any kind, which also had me questioning his polar stances from start to finish. Opening up with scientific research seemingly to disprove a relationship between Hashem and the Jewish nation's survival, his last quote ends off the article by claiming the people, Torah and, most interestingly enough, Gd as the reason for Jewish existence. Now, the author of the article, Tzofia Hirschfeld, merely introduced Konner's findings, but the way she worked her way from science to Gd, by quoting Konner, got my mind turning.

          One of my favorite classes taught by Rabbi Kelemen, a Harvard educated teacher and author, uses science and physics and math and probability to prove the rational in believing in Gd. Believing in Gd is rational? I was relived to hear that! I thought I was just "following my gut feeling." Anywho, the way he proves the rationality in living a life of belief and Gd is astounding, but I won't give his shiurim-secrets here. When science proves Gd exists, I wonder what the people who use it to deny Gd's existence thinks. I'll have to debate this with one of my well-versed friends sometime. But, I have crossed a certain line recently. I won't try to preach Gd or religion to people who are not interested. Because you can prove the mathematicians wrong; you can prove the scientists wrong; you can prove the whole world wrong; In the end you can only hope your following what's right if you've proven it to yourself. But hey, since this is my blog and you've decided to read it I can stand on my soapbox and yell and scream what ever I want. So to that I say, the people, the Torah, and Gd are all what keeps my nation alive. And I'm proud of it. If you want to be apart of this nation, go ahead and do what you'd like. But if you want your children to be apart of it, remember what has been keeping it alive for so long.