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Home Presentation for Yom Kippur Symposium 5764, October 6, 2003
Others who have participated in this service in past years have thanked the Rabbis for the honor of being on the bima on this holiest of days. I too want to say thank you-- not only for the honor, but for the challenge of searching within myself so I could accurately address the topic, "The Impact of Judaism on my Life."
I didn't consider it cheating on my assigned task to ask my husband, Bob, and our three adult children what impact Judaism has had on their lives. Each one of them responded in his/her own personal way, but all the responses were very much a reflection of my own feelings. We all agreed that basically Judaism gives us three things: the freedom to be ourselves, a system of Jewish values and a community of people with whom we share these values.
So let me speak to those three principles and how they have shaped my life. First, the freedom to be me. According to my Judaism, I am free to wear a kippa and talit or not. I am free to kiss the Torah as it moves down the aisle or not. I am free to attend services, to say kaddish or not. I am free to accept the bible stories as fact or as parable. I am free to disagree with our Rabbis. Liberal Judaism is inclusive, and without following all of its tenets, I am still a Jew and a good Jew.
Judaism has a system of values transmitted through everyday life, not only by Torah teachings or words from the pulpit or from the Jewish writings but also by the actions of Jewish people whom we respect. For me those values are reflected in a Commitment to Family, Respect for and Service to others, an Openness to Question and Learn, and Continuity of Jewish Tradition.
How I come to these beliefs begins with birth to a family that lived these values, although sometimes in what could be called non- traditional Jewish ways.
My family and Bob's family were what has come to be called "Classical Reform" Jews. We called ourselves "Xmas tree Jews." And that Xmas was spelled X. MAS. – we never included the Christ in Christmas, which speaks to the ambiguous feelings we had about celebrating a religious holiday that belonged to our Christian neighbors.
I moved to San Antonio from Cleveland, Ohio with my parents in November of the year I was eight yrs. old. Come December, we put up our tree. Imagine my parents' embarrassment when the doorbell rang and there stood Temple Beth-El's then Rabbi, Ephraim Frisch, who had come to welcome us to town. Rabbi Frisch glanced at the tree and said, "Nice Chanukah bush." Although I was too young to realize it at the time, this was an early lesson for me in the inclusiveness of our liberal Judaism. Rabbi Frisch respectfully included us newcomers in the Temple family even though what we were doing–-that Chanukah bush--- was very much against his concept of our religion.
Many times in my life I've sat in this Temple, looking at the words across the ark and trying to figure out just what "Thou Shalt Love thy Neighbor as Thyself" really means. Even as a child I knew these were important words or they wouldn't be inscribed in such a prominent place in the Temple, but being young and literal in my thinking, I figured I was supposed to love my actual neighbors, the Thornes and the Smythes and the Freemans. That was easy, they were nice folks.
Of course, with a little maturity came the realization that these words above the ark have a much more complex meaning, and that neighbor includes my community, my nation, of course my family, and humanity throughout the world, or as Rabbi Hillel said: "If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, then what am I?” Interesting how those words apply here as they applied so beautifully in Rabbi Block’s sermon last night.
As for the meaning of "love," in Thou Shalt Love Thy Neighbor, Jewish love is not just kiss your spouse and hug your children, it encompasses caring for those who cannot care for themselves. It is respect. It is understanding - or trying to- others who may be different or think differently than I do. It is, of course, tikkun olam...repair the world...or at least a tiny corner of the world... by my efforts.
That's what my Dad was doing with his enthusiasm and intense devotion to building Golden Manor Jewish Home for the Aged. That's what my Mom was doing in the years she spent studying braille so she could transcribe books for the blind. I have tried to live this concept of love thy neighbor by whatever service I've been able to give.
Love also means Love of God. Many, perhaps most of us have gone through periods of questioning God. We ask, “Is there a God?” “Why me God?” “Where was God when I needed help ?” Etc.
In the early 1940's at a Jewish Federation dinner in the basement of this Temple, my mother was having a conversation about religion with the man who was sitting next to her. He maintained that there is no proof of the existence of God, therefore intelligent people have no basis for a belief in some ephemeral being. Mother disagreed and said, "No matter how we question, there are two times in life that even you believe in God. Those two times are when you say, "Please, God" and when you say, "Thank God."
After dinner, mother who was wearing a hat in the fashion of the times with a huge feather that swooped down one side of her face and who smoked, took out a cigarette. The man with whom she'd just had this discussion about God, reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette lighter and lit her cigarette. In so doing, he also lit the feather on Mother's hat which burst into flames. He grabbed the hat off her head, threw it on the ground, stepped on it to extinguish the fire and asked, "Are you hurt?" When Mother assured him she was fine, he said, "Thank God!" And Mother answered, I'm sure with a grin, "As I said, there are times when we're all believers."
Perhaps because this story was part of the fabric of my growing up, the concept has stayed with me and carried me through times when I too have doubted and questioned–-- how could a loving God allow the Holocaust ? Or allow little children to suffer and die? Or allow poverty, hunger, slavery? I've never received answers that truly satisfy me, and I still question, but I also Thank God and ask Please God on a regular basis.
A large part of what endears Judaism to me is the feeling of belonging to a community of people who share my Jewish values.
The first year Bob and I were married, I began playing bridge with a group of Jewish women. This was no ordinary bridge game. For 25 years we met once a week around the bridge table, raised our children collectively and used each other as sounding boards/counselors/ psychologists. After a couple of us took full time jobs, the bridge game itself ended, but long before then, the relationships had been cemented. Our children are connected. Still today they call themselves "the bridge game kids," and fondly recall when one or another was substitute parented by a bridge game mom or dad.
Included in my Jewish community are intimate friends whose grandparents were friends of my grandparents, whose parents were friends of my parents, whose children are friends of my children and now the 4th generation, our grandchildren, are friends.
How different would these friendships have been had we not been Jewish? I don't know. I also don’t know why I feel a kinship to so many in this congregation, but I do know the Jewish values we share contribute in large measure to the closeness of our relationships.
Three years ago our granddaughter, Courtney, was bat mitzvah in Colorado Springs. In 2 ½ weeks (please God) our grandson, Jacob will be bar mitzvah, also in Colorado Springs. Many members of this, our community traveled to Colorado in 2000 and most will go again in 2003. These folks, who will be sharing the continuation of Jewish tradition in our family, are the same folks with whom we have shared joys and adversities for more than 50 years. They are our extended Jewish family, and we love them.
So there it is– freedom to be me and to be a Jew in my own way, the Jewish values inherent in Thou Shalt Love thy Neighbor, and a bonded community.
I have come to realize that being Jewish is an integral part of who I am. To me, Judaism is more than a religion, it is as Rabbi Philip Bernstein suggests, "a way of life-a way of living."
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