L'Shanah Tovah

I watched a remarkable documentary series this past weekend.  It was called the Jewish Americans (of which, of course, I am one).  It was a look back at the history of Jews in America, starting with their arrival in the 1600s up through the present day.  It was a high quality story, for sure, but I didn't really appreciate the impact of it until the last 15 minutes of the final part of its three parts.

As you might expect from PBS, it was a well produced and in some ways a frightening story that spent much of it's time examining the nature of anti-semitism in this country--it's ebb and flow over the last 350 years.  There were no real surprises, except that for the first time in my life I was able to put the entire timeline in some kind of perspective.  I was able to place myself in the continuum for the time I have been alive and it was illuminating to  finally have a sense of place in the flow of Jewish life in America.

Over the years I have been what I now realize is a secular Jew.  Sure, I know the basic service at the synagogue and remember the songs and melodies that have been a part of me since childhood, but my family were not 'temple goers'.  My Mom and Dad were part of that massive migration of Jews to the suburbs in the 1950s and I grew up in a small town in New Jersey where most of my friends were Jewish and we all went to Hebrew School together.  The Temple was more of a social instrument than a religious one.   I was Bar Mitzvah-ed and then.... sort of cut loose from the bonds of higher learning at the Temple.  All my friends were Jewish. (although I was smitten with a shiksa goddess named Linda Scarlett in 1st Grade!)  But all through my post Bar MItzvah life, my attachment to the Temple was virtually non-existent.  I went to Temple on the High Holy Days, but never felt the draw of being a religious Jew who prayed every Saturday.  I never felt like I was missing anything specific, but I always had this nagging kind of anxiety that I was somehow not really being what I needed to be as a Jew.

I remember when I was studying for my Bar Mitzvah, my Uncle George, who was an imposing figure and very learned, kept reminding me that on my Bar Mitzvah day he was going to ask me why I was proud to be a Jew.  I lived in fear of that moment because I never could formulate an answer that I knew would satisfy him, or myself for that matter.  He passed away before my Bar Mitzvah, so I never had to answer the question, but the question still haunts me today.

As I watched the program, I was especially moved by that final part of the episode that described what has happened to Judaism and our Jewish life experience here in America over the last 30 years.  As a student, the details of the holocaust and the role of American Jews in the creation of the State of Israel; in the Civil Rights struggle; in the effort to save Soviet Jews were all well learned during my school years, but the collection of film, photographs and narrative and the way they were presented gave me a deeper understanding of the role we Jews played in the unfolding American Story of the last half of the 20th Century and the beginning of the 21st.   I  was able to fine tune my place in the story.  The last segment of the program took the position that Judaism has changed and is always changing. 

The wonderful thing about Judaism is that it celebrates life.  It encourages questions and study.  It is not about sin, but rather about living a life according to the laws of Torah and seeking a connection with God by being joyful and celebrating life.  I was surprised to find out that the Orthodox movement has seen the largest resurgence of membership in literally hundreds of years.  Yet even the young Orthodox Jews had contemporized  Judaism by relating it constantly to our life experience now--what is happening to us as a culture now.

There was a segment about a young boy who had the same kind of upbringing I had.  He had the same questions I did about who he was and what his place was.  He was a musician, and had a rock band as a teenager (just like me), but his passion was reggae music.  His idol was Bob Marley.  He listened closely to the lyrics of Marley and heard stories and references to the Old Testament throughout all his music.  It was a touchpoint for him, and he started writing his own lyrics using the Old Testament as his inspiration.  Today, he is Matisyahu, an American Hasidic Jewish reggae musician.  He has transformed himself into an Orthodox Jew and his passion is to relate the teachings of Torah through the most unlikely of mediums--reggae music.  But he is incredibly popular, not only with non Jews, but with Jews as well!  To listen to him perform and describe his journey to the place he is now is to understand the meaning of Judaism for our time.  It gives me comfort to know that my own sense of my own Jewishness is valid.  I have become a Jew for my time.  And I am proud to be a Jew, Uncle George, because I finally have a sense of the value and intrinsic beauty of being a human being that is comfortable in his own skin.  I can be Jewish in my time.  There are all kinds of new ways we can express what it means to be Jewish.  We can all take a deep breath and feel free to create whatever comes out of the interaction between our inherited tradition and the culture we are living in.The words of one of the prayers that I remember so well says it all:

"Blessed are thou O Lord our God who has given me life, has sustained me in life and has brought me to this moment. "

I think the key is to realize that there is a preciousness to this moment.   Being a good Jew, and a proud Jew,  is to realize the preciousness of each moment that we have.  Judaism is not one size fits all.  However, the constant throughout our history is our celebration of life and all its blessings.

L'Shanah Tovah, everyone!