This morning, for the first time since I can remember, I went to Saturday morning religious services, with my mother and brother, at his conservative Jewish temple in Bethesda, MD. We walked there, like good Jews, echoing the more Conservative practice of not working (nor driving cars) on the Sabbath.
With decades of distance between me and any practice of organized religion — other than as a tourist at the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, or at a ceremony and celebration of life those recently and dearly departed — I had fresh eyes to observe some particulars of Jewish religiosity.
First, some context: There were about 50 people in the sanctuary, socially distanced and masked, in a space that could hold 250. The two hour service consisted of Torah readings, singing, chanting, and a guest sermon from a Rabbi delivered via Zoom.
While there was one main focus — say, this morning’s reading from the book of Numbers — there were many other distractions: the Rabbi walking off the bema (altar) into the congregation inviting someone spur-of-the-moment to do a reading; people talking with each other at what they thought was low volume, and hugging and kissing; people standing up and walking out, or new people arriving. The Conservative and Orthodox traditions also feature davening, what sounds like murmuring, looks like rocking back and forth, and is an an individual response to the Rabbi’s call.
It’s not like a play or movie with a quiet, rapt audience, nor like a classical music or stage performance that attempts to minimize interruptions by clustering attendees at an entrance until a segment is complete. In fact, it felt more like participation, interruptions, and commentary are expected.
One page from the Bomberg Talmud
Maybe even required, given the actual content of the service and structure of sacred Jewish texts. The Torah and the haftorah both contain commentary and footnotes. The Talmud — the most holy of Jewish books, the genesis of Jewish laws, and the primary source of rabbinical training — has a page layout that accommodates source material, no fewer than five sources of commentary on the source material that’s been compiled over the centuries, two sidebar locations to cross-reference other material, and even printer’s notes [see image]. So it’s not surprising that one Saturday service, even after years of absence, would embody this hodgepodge of simultaneous commentary and confusion.
I was raised in the Reform tradition and became a Bar Mitzvah at the traditional age of 13. Although that ceremony marks the transition out of boyhood, it wasn’t until years later that I became free to make my own decisions about religion. What I appreciate about Jewishness is the space created, in texts, for interpretations of the stories, allowing for resonance and meaning. With that approach as my guide, what follows are some of the traditions I appreciate:
On most Friday nights after a long week of work, a delicious candle-lit dinner, and a special grace-like blessing over food and wine becomes Shabbat.
Even as a kid I loved Sukkot, the agriculturally-oriented harvest holiday, where you hold woven-together palm fronds, willow branches, and a myrtle bough in your hand, along with the fruit of a citron tree, and wave them north, south, east, and west, to honor and bless mother earth.
Tzedakah, in my interpretation, is giving — typically financial donations — to those less fortunate, and without expecting anything in return. Sounds like the gift economies of a certain burning man I know, and generally exuding kindness.
Music. Because I was born in the 70s, I have many memories of singing Jewish religious songs in small groups accompanied by guitar and clapping, in lieu of the more formal professional cantor or organ. Even this morning I could recall many of the melodies, and I’ve written previously about my experience singing my Torah portion.
Food. Grandma Mollie’s chicken matzoh ball soup, Grandma Moo’s brisket, hamantaschen cookies, pastrami on marbled rye with mustard, rugelach of any variety (but mostly the apricot walnut ones from La Farine), and on and on.