Bespoke Religion

I’m seeing, mostly through social media, how Judaism, orthodoxy included, is being expressed in so many new and different ways. I love this and think it’s a very important development. Growing up in a provincial orthodox Jewish neighborhood which was part of the New York/New Jersey rigidly religious machine, it seemed that anyone who dared deviate from the blueprint was judged, ridiculed, ostracized, and labeled. There was simply one way of doing religion. That idea to color within the lines goes against any sense of individuality, and in my opinion, goes against God. If God wanted us to all be the same, he’d have made us so. What is the point of handing out different personalities, thought processes, and DNA just to wind up with an army of clones? I understand that throughout history, especially post Holocaust, there was a need for the control of sameness (this is nothing but an illusion, but still). To reestablish ourselves after such mass destruction and the threat to our very existence reasonably manifested in a more homogeneous approach to religious and cultural life. Humans often find comfort and safety in the predictability of rules. Rules calm the mind (again, an illusion but still) and provide order. Anyone that is a threat to such a system of order is very often cast as a black sheep. This happens on a micro level, say within a family unit like mine, or on a macro level in greater society.
Lately, it has given me great satisfaction to see that it’s becoming more and more acceptable to honor and uphold religious practice in unique ways. For instance, a friend’s orthodox son spent Passover alone in nature. Without a synagogue, community, or special food prepared, he hiked, prayed on snowy mountains, and ate permissibly kosher foods. Nothing was sacrificed yet all was done atypically. Another friend, who is strictly orthodox as well, told me his best Passover ever was spent in Mexico with friends. They prayed together, found kosher food, and had a great time while connecting to the holiday on a beach. Why not? It seems the days of celebrating the Jewish holidays in one way only are thankfully waning. I think it sends a very weak message when religious practice can only be upheld in a black or white manner; it’s as if we are teaching people that without THIS or THAT the system will collapse. If one of life’s goals is to be more open and flexible, shouldn’t this include worship, too? God is enormous and vast; should it be that there’s only one way of connecting to Him? Think about it; as parents we aim to encourage our kids to find themselves, express themselves, BE themselves. It’s like, “ Be yourself and express yourself EXCEPT when it comes to one of the most central themes of your life. Then you must stick to the script”. On social media there have been wonderfully interesting moves from sects of all branches of Judaism on how to honor our heritage. Heritage and religion are two very different concepts, and it’s so refreshing to see so much creativity coming from the ultra orthodox to traditionally cultural. Jewish farmers, musicians, rappers, artists, bakers, holistic healers (like a cousin of mine), just to name a few, have made Jewish expression an endeavor of the heart and spirit over the outdated, fixed ideas of the mind. One of my zen teachers, a Soto zen Buddhist monk, is Jewish. Through him, I’ve participated in a number of Jewish programs with Lab Shul, deeply celebrating Shabbat and holidays in new and exciting ways. Instead of the old teaching that it’s this or nothing, can’t we focus on the newer concept that everything is everything? Not doing Judaism the same way as our community or parents doesn’t mean we aren’t doing it. It means, most likely, we’ve actually stepped back from our programming to examine our intentions, practices, and goals in feeling Hashem in our lives. For instance, I feel more connected to my personal piece of Judaism by incorporating Buddhism into my life. There has been a widening that has made me think deeply and carefully about my Jewish life and how I want it to be. On Yom Kippur I’m probably the only person who refuses to strike my chest during prayers. That practice feels unhealthy to me so I stopped a few years ago. In no way do I feel less connected on Yom Kippur, and in no way am I suggesting my way is right. All I’m saying is that there should be, and must be in changing modern times, room to build our relationship to God in a way that truly serves our heart. I believe this is the point to this whole gig, because a healthy, loving heart makes for a healthy, loving individual. A healthy, loving individual allows us to better do God’s work. It all comes full circle when practiced with joy. Without joy and connection there is a blockage to all our experiences. If praying alone in a forest brings one joy, then how great is that? We, as a community, must encourage and support this new religious elasticity, having faith that true connection only creates more room for all types of expansion. These interpretations will never be viewed as threats by those who feel firmly rooted in their connection to Hashem. A strong foundation has room for growth. As a parent who greatly values my Jewish history, heritage, and culture, I want to teach this very notion to my children; don’t ever be afraid that God doesn’t love you for exactly who you are. I don’t want my kids to be clones of me, their dad, or each other. Preaching the idea of identical religious practice will only become a hindrance in their growth as individuals. If they arrive at the traditional conclusion, I hope it’s from their own exploration and not this archaic idea that coloring outside the lines is a problem.