This really got me going. See, dinosaurs are really important to me for lots of reasons. I have a kid. My dad is a Biologist. Oh, and my dad works as a Fossil Explainer at the American Museum of Natural History.
But even before he started working there, The Museum (as we call it) was always a special place to me. When the new dinosaur exhibit (as we still call it) opened in 1995 (no, I didn't have to look that up) it was a big deal in my family. My mother and brother got to see it the first day. I had to wait, but I got there as soon as I could and to this day I am amazed by what I learn there.
And then there's evolution. The article I linked to is partly about the evolutionary evidence found in the fossil record of dinosaurs specifically. They have taught us so much about how the world and animals developed that it's mind-boggling. Which is why Creationists are trying to suppress that science.
Which brought me back to my job. I teach religion to third graders at a Reform Jewish Congregation. Before school started, I decided it was time to come out to my boss. I didn't do it last year because my revelation (anti-revelation?) happened in the middle of the school year, and I wasn't sure, when I started this blog, where it would end up. But since I'm staying (for now anyway) in my congregation, I decided to keep the job that I love. Because I really do love discussing religion with children for two hours every week, and I love watching them make progress in Hebrew reading the other two.
So I sat down with my boss and told her that I now identify as a Humanist but I still also identify as a Reform Jew. And I don't believe in God. (I said it with a capital G out of respect for her. She's a good person, and a friend, and God is important to her.) I told her about this blog and all the work I've done and will continue to do figuring out what I believe.
She was interested in that stuff (as I said: good person, friend) but what she really wanted to know, as my boss, is whether I can still do my job. And it came down to this: my job is to impart a sense of wonder and connectedness to God to my students.
Really?
Oh, and when you taught them the real story of Chanukah--that the Jews were celebrating Sukkot because they had their Temple back, so they lit up the whole city of Jerusalem for eight nights, and THAT's why we light an 8-armed candelabra, not because of a stupid oil miracle--that pissed of the Rabbi. Don't do that anymore.
But...the kids asked. They wanted to know the scientific explanation behind the menorah miracle. Since when does the Reform Movement deny science and endorse miracles? I feel like the whole Movement has shifted.
Yes, says my boss. It did.
This opened a pit of fear in my stomach, but I had to ask.
What about Evolution?
She told me to leave the question open, because "we don't really know."
Yes, we DO really know. Feathered dinosaurs!
Crap. When did the Refom Movement come to this? Why, oh WHY would we want to side with the fundamentalist crackpots on ANYTHING?!?!?!
I'm hoping this will pass, and won't really come to anything. I'm hoping that I will find a way to gather the Progressive folks in my area, or in my congregation, so that we can stick together and stay Jewish and keep the Reform Movement Progressive. If this is the tip of a spear, though, it might be the wedge that pushes me out of the Movement.
This hurts.
Showing posts with label Temple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Temple. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
High ???? Days
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?
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?
Saturday, January 21, 2012
The other problem
Maybe it's the real problem, actually. Mr. Jewess doesn't have friends at our Temple. I have a friend who's rapidly becoming a good friend, but her husband is always at work so we've never met him. And I also hang out with the Rabbi, Cantor and Educator who are all women. Mr. Jewess isn't afraid to be friends with women but like most men, he prefers to hang out with other men, and he doesn't have any male friends at the Temple.
This means that we don't have any families that we are friends with. And that means that the Temple can never really be a social center for us.
It's a problem.
This means that we don't have any families that we are friends with. And that means that the Temple can never really be a social center for us.
It's a problem.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Reform Again?
I had a really good day at the Temple yesterday. It felt great to be there, my family was there, The Little Jewess was happy, everything was good. I'm not sure I can give all that up, which means two things:
1) I need to find a way to develop a community that is either within the Temple or in addition to it, and
2) I need to find a way to live with integrity within the Temple.
You may have noticed that this blog is anonymous and (thus far) has no followers. That's partly because I don't need to be broadcasting my identity all over the internet, and The Little Jewess deserves some privacy. (Mr. Jewess is a grown-up and can deal with the consequences of marrying me, one of which is existential blogging.) But it's partly because I worry what might happen if it got out in my current congregation, where individual relationship with God is the understood norm, that I'm a Humanist. Would people still trust me? Would I be able to pray in public (do I want to?) Would my every action be judged?
There's already some stuff that's making me uncomfortable. For example, I've decided I'm not going to bow to a God I don't believe in. But I don't think most people notice or care. But if I came out, they might. And I feel uncomfortable about the God language in services and in Religious School. Even little things--yesterday, a teacher was teaching about Jews around the world, and she said, "Wherever they are, they say the same blessings to start Shabbat," and she began the traditional blessings. I felt like saying, "Wait! Stop! What about the Reconstructionists? And the Humanists? And the Jews who don't know the blessings and the Jews who write their own blessings and the Jews who don't say any blessings?"
Can I say that? What would happen if I did?
I guess I'm uncomfortable with that statement anyway, said to a class of children who mostly don't say blessings on Friday night. How can you tell a class of Jewish kids, "This is what Jews do," when you know THEY don't do it? It's like telling them they're not Jews. Other times, I feel like that is their parents' problem. Inevitably, these kids are going to ask why they're there, and the parents are going to have to answer. When The Little Jewess comes home saying "Jews do this," or "Jews do that, and why don't we?" I tell her that we're Reform Jews and we make our own choices. I've also told her that we're Jewish Humanists, so I guess I can rely on that in the future as needed. But I need a way to explain the differences to her so that she can live with it as she grows and also understand the choices she will have to make later.
Maybe what I need is more a support group than a Congregation. I have a Congregation, and there are a lot of things I do like about it. But a basic disconnect on the issue of God is kind of a big deal.
Suggestions?
1) I need to find a way to develop a community that is either within the Temple or in addition to it, and
2) I need to find a way to live with integrity within the Temple.
You may have noticed that this blog is anonymous and (thus far) has no followers. That's partly because I don't need to be broadcasting my identity all over the internet, and The Little Jewess deserves some privacy. (Mr. Jewess is a grown-up and can deal with the consequences of marrying me, one of which is existential blogging.) But it's partly because I worry what might happen if it got out in my current congregation, where individual relationship with God is the understood norm, that I'm a Humanist. Would people still trust me? Would I be able to pray in public (do I want to?) Would my every action be judged?
There's already some stuff that's making me uncomfortable. For example, I've decided I'm not going to bow to a God I don't believe in. But I don't think most people notice or care. But if I came out, they might. And I feel uncomfortable about the God language in services and in Religious School. Even little things--yesterday, a teacher was teaching about Jews around the world, and she said, "Wherever they are, they say the same blessings to start Shabbat," and she began the traditional blessings. I felt like saying, "Wait! Stop! What about the Reconstructionists? And the Humanists? And the Jews who don't know the blessings and the Jews who write their own blessings and the Jews who don't say any blessings?"
Can I say that? What would happen if I did?
I guess I'm uncomfortable with that statement anyway, said to a class of children who mostly don't say blessings on Friday night. How can you tell a class of Jewish kids, "This is what Jews do," when you know THEY don't do it? It's like telling them they're not Jews. Other times, I feel like that is their parents' problem. Inevitably, these kids are going to ask why they're there, and the parents are going to have to answer. When The Little Jewess comes home saying "Jews do this," or "Jews do that, and why don't we?" I tell her that we're Reform Jews and we make our own choices. I've also told her that we're Jewish Humanists, so I guess I can rely on that in the future as needed. But I need a way to explain the differences to her so that she can live with it as she grows and also understand the choices she will have to make later.
Maybe what I need is more a support group than a Congregation. I have a Congregation, and there are a lot of things I do like about it. But a basic disconnect on the issue of God is kind of a big deal.
Suggestions?
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