I struggle with my faith -- I think every religious person does, which is often a surprise to secular people, who may presume struggle indicates lack of faith.
There are a few things I find particularly difficult, especially this time of year:
The Nine Days -- the traditional period of mourning, right now, in the first nine days of the month of Av, leading up to the fast of Tisha B'Av, commemorating the destruction of the two Holy Temples and many other tragedies besides. I am fine with mourning the Temples etc.; why must we make ourselves sad in a time which is often the best time of summer? I can't stand the traditional restrictions, and I've noticed myself and other people bending the rules a bit.
Niddah -- the traditional period of separation between husband and wife during the wife's period and for a week thereafter. I love the laws of family purity; I do not mind the period of abstinence, and I think the ritual of bathing in a mikvah (ritual bath, with natural water) before reuniting is one of the most beautiful traditions in any religion. Yet I find the enforced separation infuriating, because it interferes with the need for tenderness and touch between a married couple.
Sefirah -- another period of mourning, from the second day of Passover until the Jewish holiday of Lag B'Omer. Again, I get why we do this; it's sort of the Jewish version of Lent. Yet I don't know why we have to make ourselves unhappy for so long; I just want to enjoy life and think about positive things. I guess life is full of tragedy, and this tames that a bit, perhaps preparing us for the unanticipated losses that everyone experiences from time to time.
Tachanun -- the traditional prayer of regret and mourning, offered during weekday services. The first time I saw people doing this -- putting their heads down on their arms, mumbling prayers of lament -- I could not stand it. I guess I'm sensing a common theme in my own complaints: I don't like periods of enforced sadness. I don't like being made to feel mournful in collective circumstances. I want to live life freely. This is what I wrestle with in my faith.
That's... about it.
Things I find easier than I imagined they would be, before I became more or less fully observant: keeping the Sabbath; keeping kosher (with a few exceptions, like fruit and vegetables, and occasionally fish, at non-kosher restaurants); keeping the holidays generally; putting on my tefillin for daily morning prayers.
The story of Noah is familiar; the details, less so.
Noah is often seen as an ambivalent figure. He was righteous -- but only for his generation. What was his deficiency?
One answer suggests itself: knowing that the world was about to be flooded, he built an Ark for the animals and for his own family -- but did not try to save anyone else or to convince them to repent and change their ways (the prophet Jonah, later, would share that reluctance).
Abraham, later, would set himself apart by arguing with God -- with the Lord Himself! -- against the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, saying that they should be saved if there were enough righteous people to be found (there were not).
Still, Noah was good enough -- and sometimes, that really is sufficient to save the world. We don't need heroes every time -- just ordinary decency.
Hi all -- as I noted last month, I'm going to be closing down my Locals page, at least for tips and subscriptions -- I may keep the page up and the posts as well, but I'm no longer going to be accepting any kind of payment.
Look for cancelation in the very near future. Thank you for your support!
An interesting weekend -- one of the last of Daylight Savings Time -- in which there is much to celebrate, much to contemplate, and a bit to worry about.
The Gaza peace deal is shaky, but holding, after the living hostages returned; the shutdown is still going on, with no end in sight; the China trade war is heating up; and the confrontation with Venezuela continues to escalate.
The "No Kings" protest was a dud, despite the media's attempt to inflate it. What I find fascinating is that the Democrats have basically stolen the rhetoric and the imagery of the Tea Party protests, circa 2009. They claim they are defending the Constitution -- just like the Tea Party did.
On the one hand, this is good. How wonderful to have a political system in which both sides, bitterly opposed though they are, articulate differences through the Constitution -- and not, as in so many other countries, outside it.
On the other, this is sheer hypocrisy for the Democrats. Not only did they malign the Tea Party as ...
