Wednesday, March 31, 2010

My summer...

I debated about what to do this summer for a while. At first, I wanted to go to Israel and study, but then my bank account gave me a reality check. Then, I thought that I wanted to apply to be the Director of Jewish Life at the new URJ sports camp opening at AHA. The process was going to take longer than I could wait, and once it seemed like I was going to be an AHA fellow for a second year, I wanted my vacation to be off campus. Then, I found the Brandeis Collegiate Institute (http://bci.ajula.edu/)- a highly subsidized three week retreat for Jewish adults to explore their Judaism through the arts in a pluralistic setting. Did I mention that it is in California?! The program is for people ages 18-26, so I knew that if I didn't do this now, I probably never would. As I started to explore the program I learned that several people involved with AHA worked and/or attended BCI at some point. A few weeks after I applied, I learned that I was accepted! I'm very excited to be a part of a pluralistic community and hopefully translate what I experience there back to my work at AHA next year.
I have one friend from Binghamton who has also been accepted, and I know two of the people on faculty. I'm looking forward to being able to share this experience with people from different parts of my life before AHA, and hopefully meet a lot more new people to learn from and grow with.
To clarify, I am not artistic. I can't draw, act, or dance. I also am not the type to embrace the great outdoors. All things I'll be expected to do this summer.
It will be good for me to do something a little out of my comfort zone...

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Laser Pointers, Powerpoints and Shabbat

I am often asked why I do certain things as a Jew. Most people who have known me for a while assume that I am a Reform Jew, and are confused when I say things like 'I can't go out until after Shabbat is over', or, 'I prefer more traditional liturgy.'

I am shomer shabbat. I am not shomer shabbat out of the feeling that I am obligated to do so. I am shomer shabbat for many different reasons. I started to explore a more traditional way of observing Judaism when I transferred to Binghamton and got to know the Hillel Rabbi and his family. He was one of the first people I got to know who was deeply connected to Jewish tradition and practice, but was totally connected to the outside world. I had lived a very sheltered Reform Jewish life up until that point. Little did I know that my involvement with the Binghamton Jewish community would lead me to make friends with Jews from all walks of life. My closest friends identified as Conservative, Orthodox, Zionist, Jewish without a label, etc. I found myself a part of a shomer shabbat community, and loved it. I looked forward to the quiet and relaxation each week. I began to experiment with certain things on Shabbat. At first, I stopped doing homework on Shabbat. Then, I stopped using my computer on Shabbat. Next, I stopped using my phone and watching TV. There was something refreshing about disconnecting from the outside world. I had a whole day set aside for prayer, sleep, and friends. This eventually led me to choose to live with 3 other observant girls for my senior year of college, making the active choice to commit to an observant lifestyle.

The Jewish choices I have made over the years have made my life more meaningful. I haven't had many people or situations challenge my choices, until I come home. I don't come from an observant home. I am not part of an observant community. I am fine with living with people who choose to observe Shabbat in a different way (I have lived in a pluralistic house at AHA since August and have done just fine.) It is clear, however, that my family is uncomfortable with how I live my life.. The idea of doing anything for Shabbat is so off their radar. To them, what I do is crazy and to the extreme. What they don't see is that, for the past 4 years, I have found communities that encourage my exploration of Judaism and my choices to live a more observant lifestyle. I am not the only one doing this. I am not as alien as they think of them.

The use of technology on Shabbat has started to make me really uncomfortable. At one point a few summers ago I experienced a powerpoint Shabbat service done by Rabbi Billy Dreskin. At the time, I thought it was really interesting. Looking back on it now, I don't necessarily think that I loved the idea of using a powerpoint, but I did love his creativity and ability to think outside the box. He knew that for so many people, services as they are just aren't enough. I admire his desire to try and engage as many people as possible in prayer.

This past Shabbat I went to my "home" synagogue in NJ. We read Torah on Friday nights. To many, that's a foreign concept in itself. I always grew up doing this way, so it seems pretty normal to me. I really don't like the services there, but I happen to really like the Rabbi and the familiarity of seeing people from my old congregation...so I keep going back. It's really interesting to see the similarities between this synagogue and the Reform synagogue that I work for in Greensboro. Both synagogues strive to be warm and friendly synagogues. Both Rabbis have camp backgrounds. Yet, when it comes to services, so much of the service is not participatory, although it seems like that is what is intended. For both synagogues, so much of the service is the cantor or cantorial soloist singing by himself. I don't like it when people are watching one person pray. I like to do the praying myself! Okay, done with that rant.

Back to this past Friday night in my synagogue. During the Torah service the rabbinical student leading pulled out a laser pointer to read Torah on the projected Torah page on the wall. They took the Torah out but didn't actually read from it. I get that they were trying to make it accessible to everyone. I get that for some people, the technology is really exciting. For me, I just want to hear the Torah being read...from the Torah.

These next 16 days of vacation are supposed to re energize me for the remainder of AHA's school year. I am already looking forward to returning...

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

On Loss and Faith

This weekend marks the first yartzeit of Jonah Dreskin, an integral part of the Kutz community. I met Jonah's parents at Kutz before I really had the chance to get to know Jonah himself. Jonah's parents are the kind of people who, for me, scream Kutz. They are innovative, passionate people alway available to serve the communities they are a part of. My heart broke when I heard the news of Jonah's death. His parents are the type of people who I would feel comfortable turning to in a time like this. What happens when those people are the ones who need support the most? I often wonder, as an aspiring Rabbi, how one balances personal challenges in a public role.

I clearly remember sitting in the Hillel office about a year ago, and seeing an e-mail from Kutz in my inbox. I figured an e-mail announcing the death of someone from the community would mean perhaps an elderly alum had  died. I scanned the e-mail, shocked to read Jonah's name. I first met Jonah when I was working at Kutz in the winter and he was participating in a NFTY-NAR event. Always the one everyone looked up to, Jonah really found his place in NFTY. I watched him transform from that young NFTYite to a confident Kutz staff member. During my last summer at Kutz, there was a time during staff week when the dining hall manager became sick, and I was asked to step in and keep the dining hall running. Jonah was working as kitchen staff, and finding it challenging to work with a particular co-worker. At one point, a screaming match erupted. Instead of engaging in a fight, Jonah approached me for help. His maturity and genuine desire to just do his job well was extremely impressive.

When news traveled that Jonah had died, I felt so far away from the rest of my camp community. Kutz had a sort of mini memorial service via conference call before Shabbat came in that weekend. I sat alone in the Hillel lounge, listening to familiar camp voices on the conference call, crying and full of questions. Following the conference call I attended KESHER services at my Hillel. Several students who knew Jonah at different points in his life attended the service. We spent some time sharing memories, and finding some comfort in each others company. While we all knew Jonah from different places, we each had those same bits of Jonah memories to make us smile (and cry.)  I couldn't help but start asking questions, during that service and so many times more in this past year. Why do young people die? Why would God let something like this happen? Weeks following, I sat up late at night wondering if Jonah was okay, wherever his soul was now.

 As the days, weeks, and months passed, stories of Jonah floated across cyberspace. It is incredible to watch Jonah's memory stay alive so strongly. Pictures, videos, music, and stories keep Jonah's spirit with us. I hope that Jonah's close friends and family are comforted by memories and love that surrounds them. He has left me with the desire to make the people most important in my life know just how important they are to me. The Kutz community is near and dear to my heart, and a loss like this leaves makes such an impact on each and every one of us.

This weekend also happens to be the yartzeit of my Mom's best friend. She had a two sons, and and a deceased stepdaughter and deceased husband. So much death in such a short time to one family. I used to to firmly believe that everything happened for a reason. My Mom's best friends family was like our extended family. We used to spend a lot of holidays together, and I have fond memories of Passover seders where her husband designed a personalized seder, managing to incorporate everyone and their personalities into the meal. There is no way that this was meant to be. So much sickness and pain for one family- I just can't believe that this was God's plan. Does that mean that God wasn't there? God didn't care?

These loses in my life have really changed my view on God, and my relationship to God. I don't believe that God chooses who lives and who dies. I do, however, think that God provides the love, support, tools, and community one needs to learn how to live, grow, and honor the memory of their loved ones.

May Jonah and Amy's memories be for a blessing.