It's that time again. Rosh Hashana has come and gone and soon it will be Yom Kippur. The High Holidays bring up all kinds of issues for Jewish Atheists. Do I go to work? Do I attend services? Which rituals do I observe and which do I skip?
These aren't significantly different, of course, from the questions any Reform Jew asks at this time of year: once you make religion a matter of choices, then everything requires thought. I suppose the new question is why?
But let's begin with the what. Here's what I did:
1) A pre-Rosh Hashana brunch at my parents' house. We ate apples and honey and a round raisin challah, and it was my job to explain to my brother's kids, who are growing up "culturally half-Jewish" what it was all about.
2) Dinner at home with the fam for Erev Rosh Hashana. Mr. Jewess made fish, which is a bit of a treat since I went vegetarian a year ago (I'm trying to eat fish now because I haven't been getting enough protein) and we talked about our personal goals for the new year and our hopes for the world in the new year.
4) A morning family service for 3rd through 6th graders at our congregation, at which I read the prayers before and after the Haftorah reading.
5) Picked up some food at Whole Foods which we brought home and ate for lunch. I was hoping for kugel and brisket (and something vegetarian for me) but wound up with latkes and wheat berry salad.
Here's what I didn't do:
1) A formal dinner of any kind.
2) Erev Rosh Hashana services
3) Tashlich
4) A second day of Rosh Hashana.
Why?
Starting from the bottom, I've never celebrated a second day of Rosh Hashana and I see no reason to start now. I think it's a sign of the loss of focus I'm seeing within the Reform Movement that many congregations (including ours) now celebrate a second day of Rosh Hashana. We dropped it for a reason. For many reasons, actually, all of which had to do with logic. Now we're bringing it back because people want it. Okay, that happened with Bar Mitzvah before I was born, and I guess I'm okay with that, but if we're going to do it, there should be some reason, logic and meaning behind it.
The same goes for Tashlich. I've actually tried that, but it makes no sense and doesn't really move me.
We didn't get invited to dinner anywhere because my parents wanted to include my brother and he could only come for lunch Sunday. That's cool, although it was a little strange not having plans on Erev Rosh Hashana. I think if that happens again I'll plan something myself. I didn't go to services because Mr. Jewess didn't want to and I didn't care enough to argue.
Basically, I tried to bring meaning to everything that I did. Lunch Sunday, to me, was about family. I played in the playground with The Little Jewess and my niece and nephew and joked with my brother and his wife while we ate, so that was good. Lunch Monday was more complicated. I didn't really believe it was Rosh Hashana because I hadn't had "Jewish" (Eastern European) food. There's definitely that cultural bit there. But that's never been the whole holiday to me.
I think this time of year is one of the most healthy things about the Jewish calendar. It's a really good thing to think about what you can do better, and how you can help make the world a better place. The service I went to also drew some attention (just a little) to how we can be better parents. But I sat in services and thought about the prayers and what that word "God" means to me. I still find the prayers valuable, but I'm not sure to do when the prayers are particularly God-focused. Some of the prayers are asking God to help us. That's cool with me because I can just scan past the God bit and think of it as a metaphor, and then concentrate on the bit I want help with, realizing that I need to help myself or ask for help from other people. But thanking God for making me a Jew is a bit harder to comprehend when you no longer believe in God. What's left to believe in in that sentence?
So that's what it comes down to: What's a holy day when you don't believe in holy?
Which I guess is the point of this whole blog, really. Thoughts?
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Man Seeks God
I recommend Man Seeks God, by Eric Weiner. It's a really interesting memoir about a man who searches around the world for something he's missing. In the book, Weiner explores eight different religions (although mainly the mystical branches of these religions) in an effort to "find his God." In the end, he concludes that his premise was wrong, but he's much more comfortable with religion, specifically Judaism, than he was at the beginning.
He comes to Judaism (his family's faith) through Kabbalah, which he studies in Tsfat in Israel. I find Kabbalah fascinating because it is an individual approach to Judaism, but I can't subscribe to it myself because its focus is a direct connection to God. However, some of Weiner's conclusions about Judaism really resonated with me. For example, he points out that because Judaism is so old and has survived so much, it is flexible. That so much of Judaism involves questioning and challenging, not subscribing to a creed. I think this is why so many famous scientists have been Jewish.
He also points out that if people like him (and me) leave Judaism, then the only people left will be the ones who focus on doctrine to the exclusion of everything else. And he emphasizes again and again that "Truth is what works."
So even as I take the first step towards becoming a Humanist Celebrant, I am comfortable remaining a Jew, a Religious School Teacher, and an active member of a Reform Congregation.
So many things in religion are what Weiner describes as "post-it notes for the soul--" things that remind you to pay attention, to help others, to take care of yourself. These things are good even without God (and without a soul, even.) And recently, while listening to a podcast about money, it occurred to me that if money only works because we believe in it, maybe other things can be evaluated the same way. Sure, I understand that the paper in my wallet has no intrinsic value, but I believe in it because thousands of times in my life I have handed it to someone and gotten stuff in return.
Prayer works for me, too. I never believed in prayer really. I didn't think that if I prayed for something, God would do it. But prayer has always worked for me. I love the ritual and community experience of services. I like the way it feels in my body and the way it focuses my mind. I like learning something new as my focus changes because of the vocabulary I've been teaching at school or the experiences I've had that week. And silent prayer is a chance to list the things I want for myself--peace, generosity of spirit, the ability to forgive. I think that meditating on these things is a useful task, even though nobody else is listening. Focusing my attention on the ways I want to improve has to be a good use of time. So in that way, it works. So why not?
And there's something to be said for participating in rituals that have supported my ancestors for thousands of years. Sure, I understand them in a different way, but I understand freedom in a different way from the Founding Fathers, and I still consider myself an American. I am a Jew. I can't run away from that, whatever I do. Humanistic Judaism doesn't seem like the place for me, so like Weiner, I'm going to have to find my own path.
He comes to Judaism (his family's faith) through Kabbalah, which he studies in Tsfat in Israel. I find Kabbalah fascinating because it is an individual approach to Judaism, but I can't subscribe to it myself because its focus is a direct connection to God. However, some of Weiner's conclusions about Judaism really resonated with me. For example, he points out that because Judaism is so old and has survived so much, it is flexible. That so much of Judaism involves questioning and challenging, not subscribing to a creed. I think this is why so many famous scientists have been Jewish.
He also points out that if people like him (and me) leave Judaism, then the only people left will be the ones who focus on doctrine to the exclusion of everything else. And he emphasizes again and again that "Truth is what works."
So even as I take the first step towards becoming a Humanist Celebrant, I am comfortable remaining a Jew, a Religious School Teacher, and an active member of a Reform Congregation.
So many things in religion are what Weiner describes as "post-it notes for the soul--" things that remind you to pay attention, to help others, to take care of yourself. These things are good even without God (and without a soul, even.) And recently, while listening to a podcast about money, it occurred to me that if money only works because we believe in it, maybe other things can be evaluated the same way. Sure, I understand that the paper in my wallet has no intrinsic value, but I believe in it because thousands of times in my life I have handed it to someone and gotten stuff in return.
Prayer works for me, too. I never believed in prayer really. I didn't think that if I prayed for something, God would do it. But prayer has always worked for me. I love the ritual and community experience of services. I like the way it feels in my body and the way it focuses my mind. I like learning something new as my focus changes because of the vocabulary I've been teaching at school or the experiences I've had that week. And silent prayer is a chance to list the things I want for myself--peace, generosity of spirit, the ability to forgive. I think that meditating on these things is a useful task, even though nobody else is listening. Focusing my attention on the ways I want to improve has to be a good use of time. So in that way, it works. So why not?
And there's something to be said for participating in rituals that have supported my ancestors for thousands of years. Sure, I understand them in a different way, but I understand freedom in a different way from the Founding Fathers, and I still consider myself an American. I am a Jew. I can't run away from that, whatever I do. Humanistic Judaism doesn't seem like the place for me, so like Weiner, I'm going to have to find my own path.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Acting like God
SO...just when I think I've decided that Reform Judaism is for me (or at least something I can live with) and that I should stay where I am, I get an e-mail from The Little Jewess's Hebrew School teacher saying that she's teaching the children that we do good deeds to emulate God.
I think that is a stupid thing to teach. First of all, I don't want The Little Jewess to act like the God of the Hebrew Scriptures. He's got really bad manners, he's jealous, he throws tantrums and he's a bully. Second, if you tell kids that the reason they should be good is to emulate God, what happens if they stop believing? And where is the room for thought and questioning?
So I checked in with the Rabbi and she said this is definitely the new direction of Reform Judaism. She said one of her goals is "to help Jews find the language for their spirituality." I'm OK with spirituality, but I'm not at all comfortable with this kind of God talk. I don't think I'd have been comfortable with it when I believed in God (or thought I did) but that doesn't really matter because I know I don't believe in God now and that's my Little Jewess in that classroom.
And Mr. Jewess isn't happy about it either.
The search goes on...
I think that is a stupid thing to teach. First of all, I don't want The Little Jewess to act like the God of the Hebrew Scriptures. He's got really bad manners, he's jealous, he throws tantrums and he's a bully. Second, if you tell kids that the reason they should be good is to emulate God, what happens if they stop believing? And where is the room for thought and questioning?
So I checked in with the Rabbi and she said this is definitely the new direction of Reform Judaism. She said one of her goals is "to help Jews find the language for their spirituality." I'm OK with spirituality, but I'm not at all comfortable with this kind of God talk. I don't think I'd have been comfortable with it when I believed in God (or thought I did) but that doesn't really matter because I know I don't believe in God now and that's my Little Jewess in that classroom.
And Mr. Jewess isn't happy about it either.
The search goes on...
Monday, January 16, 2012
Souring on Dawkins
I'm not sure I can finish The God Delusion. Or rather, I'm not sure I feel like finishing it. Dawkins begins with the premise that the only sensible position on the existence of God is agnosticism, because although science cannot yet prove whether or not there is a God, we should be able to prove it someday. Then he proceeds to write an entire book attempting to prove, scientifically, that there is no God.
Why spend an entire book proving something that can't be proven? Why spend that much effort trying to deny comfort to the faithful? I think he spends far too much effort in the wrong direction, which is why I prefer the efforts of Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Dan Savage, Greg Epstein and Penn Jillette. The point is not that everyone needs to disbelieve in God. Faith is faith--it defies logic and it defies science. The question is, what are you going to do about it?
I could vote for someone who believes in fairies, for example. However, if that person insists that the fairies talk to him, and he does what the fairies tell him, that's a different story. It's one thing to believe in God if God, to you, is a benevolent force in the universe that may answer prayers, or if you believe that God is love. It's another thing to believe that the Bible (whichever bible you follow) is the word of God and must be taken literally, or if you believe (as George W. Bush asserts) that God acts through you and that gives you the right to start wars.
It is the laws of God, not the existence of God, that we should argue against. Belief in God is fine insofar as it brings comfort to people in distress or a useful metaphor for teaching children right from wrong. God becomes dangerous when people use God for dangerous things. When one's world view is limited by a belief in God, that is bad. The same can be said for money, however, and I don't see Dawkins arguing against the existence of money. Money exists; perhaps God does to. Neither is the problem. People are the problem, and people can be the solution.
Likewise I see nothing wrong with studying sacred texts. In fact I find them incredibly useful much of the time. I find it unlikely that any problem I might face has never been faced before by any human, or in fact by many people. So I often find it helpful to consult the writings of the past to see how those problems have been solved before. Sometimes I find wisdom in literature, or in talking to an older person, or in reading history (or more likely, watching a documentary on TV.) But the Torah, the Talmud, and the other Jewish sacred texts were written for precisely this reason, and so I often find wisdom there. I don't take any of this literally. I don't believe any of these texts were written or dictated by a deity. But where I find wisdom and useful advice, I use it.
Of course it's essential to take all of this in context. The dating world changed drastically between the time my mother was dating and my own teen years, so it would have been foolish for me to do exactly what my mother did when she was young. But this doesn't mean I couldn't learn from her: of course I could. I just had to consider her stories in their own context and discuss with her how the things she learned from her experience applied to my own situation. I suppose it's a bit harder to do with the Torah since I can't sit down with its writers, but I can take the stories in the Torah in their context and find useful lessons in them.
The stories only become dangerous when one suggests that women can't run their own lives or gay people can't get married because of them.
I guess what I'm saying is that we shouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater. God is okay, for those who find comfort in the concept. And texts are harmless, in and of themselves, just as matches are harmless as long as they remain on the shelf. Careless reading is as dangerous as playing with matches, and that is where our arguments with the faithful lie. Believe in God if you wish. It's believing in the Bible that I would fight against.
So why did Dawkins waste his time?
Why spend an entire book proving something that can't be proven? Why spend that much effort trying to deny comfort to the faithful? I think he spends far too much effort in the wrong direction, which is why I prefer the efforts of Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Dan Savage, Greg Epstein and Penn Jillette. The point is not that everyone needs to disbelieve in God. Faith is faith--it defies logic and it defies science. The question is, what are you going to do about it?
I could vote for someone who believes in fairies, for example. However, if that person insists that the fairies talk to him, and he does what the fairies tell him, that's a different story. It's one thing to believe in God if God, to you, is a benevolent force in the universe that may answer prayers, or if you believe that God is love. It's another thing to believe that the Bible (whichever bible you follow) is the word of God and must be taken literally, or if you believe (as George W. Bush asserts) that God acts through you and that gives you the right to start wars.
It is the laws of God, not the existence of God, that we should argue against. Belief in God is fine insofar as it brings comfort to people in distress or a useful metaphor for teaching children right from wrong. God becomes dangerous when people use God for dangerous things. When one's world view is limited by a belief in God, that is bad. The same can be said for money, however, and I don't see Dawkins arguing against the existence of money. Money exists; perhaps God does to. Neither is the problem. People are the problem, and people can be the solution.
Likewise I see nothing wrong with studying sacred texts. In fact I find them incredibly useful much of the time. I find it unlikely that any problem I might face has never been faced before by any human, or in fact by many people. So I often find it helpful to consult the writings of the past to see how those problems have been solved before. Sometimes I find wisdom in literature, or in talking to an older person, or in reading history (or more likely, watching a documentary on TV.) But the Torah, the Talmud, and the other Jewish sacred texts were written for precisely this reason, and so I often find wisdom there. I don't take any of this literally. I don't believe any of these texts were written or dictated by a deity. But where I find wisdom and useful advice, I use it.
Of course it's essential to take all of this in context. The dating world changed drastically between the time my mother was dating and my own teen years, so it would have been foolish for me to do exactly what my mother did when she was young. But this doesn't mean I couldn't learn from her: of course I could. I just had to consider her stories in their own context and discuss with her how the things she learned from her experience applied to my own situation. I suppose it's a bit harder to do with the Torah since I can't sit down with its writers, but I can take the stories in the Torah in their context and find useful lessons in them.
The stories only become dangerous when one suggests that women can't run their own lives or gay people can't get married because of them.
I guess what I'm saying is that we shouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater. God is okay, for those who find comfort in the concept. And texts are harmless, in and of themselves, just as matches are harmless as long as they remain on the shelf. Careless reading is as dangerous as playing with matches, and that is where our arguments with the faithful lie. Believe in God if you wish. It's believing in the Bible that I would fight against.
So why did Dawkins waste his time?
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